Did you do anything for Poetry Day? (1 Viewer)

I thought this might be a cool story to share and an interesting topic to bring up:
So apparently, yesterday was Poetry Day. Who knew? I didn't. I had absolutely no idea and no plans on celebrating it. For me every day is Poetry Day. But funnily enough it ended up being more poetry related than planned. I started my day off by picking up some print copies of my poetry collection and then went for a walk. I was planning on selling some books on the street and using the proceeds to buy beer later that night. Instead of selling any books, I ended up buying a book from a second hand bookstall I past. Typical me. I came back with less money than I had to begin with. I met a model down the southbank. She was in the middle of a photoshoot but I decided to ask if she would model my book. She kindly obliged and her photographer snapped away while she posed with my book. He directed her in trying various poses with it and even asked her to read some out loud while he took her picture. Here is a photo I took on my phone.

spontaneousshoot.jpg


After that I went home and found out that it was in fact 'Poetry Day'. It then dawned on me that it had been a pretty poetic day after all, at least in terms of activity. It's funny how things work out like that as It was quite the fateful coincidence.

So my question to you is- intentional or not, did anything poetry related happen to you yesterday?
Be it reading, writing, listening or otherwise:
did you celebrate it deliberately? or if you were like me and were completely unaware of it's occurence, did poetry somehow gatecrash your day without you even realising it, now that you come to think of it?

in closing I'll leave this quote on poetry by the mighty B.
'as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.'

peace folks.
 
Pretty cool. I had a poetically horrible day and wrote a poem, the first (poem) in months, and whether or not it's a good poem, I am glad I did and it cleared my head when I re-read it 3x in a row right before bed. Poetically horrible? What the hell does that mean?
 
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