What was the last culturally significant poem?

Cafe Society
1

So a random thought, it occurs to me that for most of the history of literate human civilization, poetry has been pretty much the premier form of human culture. But for the last century or so it’s been superceded by other forms of media.

So when was the last really “culturally significant” poem? For the purpose of this thread I’m defining culturally significant as a specific work (or series of works by a single artist), that is well known and has cultural influence for a long time after its release (in society as a whole not just a small group of hardcore fans). I’m thinking of stuff like Star Wars, The Godfather, Harry Potter, Sergeant Pepper, Game of Thrones/A Song Of Fire and Ice, Nirvana Nevermind, Andy Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Cans, etc. Stuff that is known and has cultural influence for a long time, in society as a whole, not just a small clique. When is the last time a poem did that?

2

Are you counting poems that are set to music? Because that’s the vast majority of poetry, nowadays.

3

Are you including or excluding:

(1) poetry in the form of a song
(2) children’s books written in rhyming verse

I think the most recent poem-written-as-a-poem that I learned growing up, outside of school and outside of finding it on my own, was In Flanders Fields.

4

Possibly “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou?

5

No, not for this thread. While I’d agree they have taken over the cultural niche once filled by poetry i would say they are not actually poetry.

6

Hmmm that’s an interesting one. I’d say no, not poetry.

7

Oh yeah that’s definitely a contender

8

Interesting question. I’m wondering if poetry ever occupied that sort of cross-cultural, long-term space. Perhaps an example of a no-brainer might help, even if not terribly recent?

9

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills;

For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths — for you the shores a-crowding;

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;

The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;

From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won; 20

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Cptain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

The Ride of Paul Revere would be a good one or Twas the Night before Christmas. Several Poe Poems. "Do not go gentle into that good night " by Dylan Thomas.

Speaking of which, to deny that Bob Dylan wrote poetry as he set it to music seems odd to me.

10

Beowulf. The Odyssey. The Canterbury Tales. The Decameron. The Bhagavad Gita. Psalms.

ETA: More recently,

11

How about Amanda Gorman’s “The Hill We Climb,” from Joe Biden’s inauguration? I’m not sure if it truly fits what you’re talking about, but it’s the first thing that came to mind.

12

The obvious example to me is WW1 poetry e.g. For The Fallen (“Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning. We will remember them.”) and Dulce et Decorum est (“The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori”)

Also all of Kipling’s poems and The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats (“Things fall apart, the center will not hold”)

13

I also thought of that, but I’d be hard pushed to describe it as being influential for a long time.

14

I know I completely forgot it already.

15

I think @What_Exit’s examples are more on the mark, and I hadn’t thought of them. You cite brilliant poetry, but do they (or did they) compare to the type of Star Wars / Nirvana / etc. impact you mentioned?

Perhaps they do…

16

The apology poem by William Carlos Williams “This Is Just to Say”: This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams - Poems | Academy of American Poets

17

When my parents were young (1930s), Longfellow’s The Song Of Hiawatha was required reading in high schools. People decorated their homes with paintings of scenes from it. It was parodied in Bugs Bunny cartoons.

When I was young (1970s), it had been tossed down the Memory Hole.

18

That the one I thought of too. I have it in book form.

19

I suspect that a lot of culturally significant poetry was traditionally sung, or at least, chanted.

https://www.npr.org/2016/08/25/491389975/the-sound-of-ancient-greek-in-the-illiad

All the Hebrew prayers come with tunes, usually both traditional tunes and a variety of other options.

The Psalms were sung – they are attributed to David, who played the harp, and according to Wikipedia:

The Psalms were written not merely as poems, but as songs to be sung. According to Bible exegete Saadia Gaon (882–942) who served in the geonate of Babylonian Jewry, the Psalms were originally sung in the Temple precincts by the Levites, based on what was prescribed for each psalm (lineage of the singers, designated time and place, instruments used, manner of execution, etc.), but are permitted to be randomly read by anyone at any time and in any place.[49]

Poetry that’s not set to music seems like an artificial category to me.

20

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—

Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.