John Green Reads Poetry

So many poems to listen to!

Hey, there’s a missing poem!

Hi! This website is an ongoing labor of love inspired by John’s self-proclaimed love of poetry ¹ and the mission of Ours Poetica

We’re working very hard combing through the vast amounts of online content John and Hank have created ³ — and continue to create! — to find every instance of John reading poetry.⁴ Most of these were short poems that used to appear as an opening segment in the Dear Hank & John pod.⁵

Check out our growing list of missing or lost poetry-related John Green media:

We have a long way to go, and are using the posts’ dates as a way to organize everything chronologically with relevant tags to make everything extra useable!

So if you have a suggestion of something we missed or would like to share a piece of poetry-related media you’ve found…

  1. This is also a recurring riff in many of the opening segments of Dear Hank & John
  2. A lovely play on the Latin phrase Ars Poetica (“The Art of Poetry”)
  3. Examples: 1 | 2
  4. And, occasionally, someone else, such as his wife, his brother, or a poem inspired by one of Hank’s rants. Admittedly, some things are qualified as ‘poems’ rather loosely — John has read lyrics, and other nontraditional items as poetry, and that’s a wonderful thing!
    Because poetry is, always, what we make it.
  5. And are still missed by Nerdfighters everywhere!

Related Resources

Dear Hank & John

Or as he likes to call it: “Dear John & Hank”

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Also called “Epitaph on my own Friend”

The brothers’ related banter…

Hank: Oh, ugh jeez, wow, we’re bad at this! You also have to do the poem, don’t forget about the poem!

John: … I also forgot that generally, here in the beginning of the podcast, uh, I read you a short poem.

Hank: Do that! 

John: … Uh, I was thinking recently, Hank, you know, we had, uh, two unexpected weeks of grieving David Bowie, uh, and then in the interim, lots of other people died. I don’t want to say that 2016 is the year of celebrity death, but, um, I don’t know. It seems like an unusual number of people are dying, but then again, January is the number one month for death in the world. Um, anyway–

Hank: Huh!

John: Alan Rickman died, uh, and of course, uh, just earlier, uh, yesterday as we’re recording this we heard about the death of the great character actor Abe Vigoda, um, who was ninety-four years old. Lived a great, uh, long and complicated, uh, interesting life. It reminded me of this poem by Robert Burnes, the eighteenth century Scottish! Very important, to, uh identify him as Scottish, uh, poet, who was not English. OK, this uh, poem is called Epitaph On A Friend, by Robert Burnes.

(Reads poem)

John: Epitaph On A Friend, by Robert Burnes.

Hank: Lovely! Uh, John, do you know that interestingly, January is the number one month for–for death? Apparently, I didn’t know that, but you did. But February is-is the last month for death. It is also last place in the amount of beer drinking per month and last place in the amount of money spent per month because… it has fewer days

John: I was gonna say, that’s the least interesting statistic possible. The shortest month is also the least deadly month.

Hank: [laughs]

John: But yes no, January, partly because it has thirty one days, but partly because there just seems to be something about winter that kills us. January indeed is the deadliest month. also there’s some thought that people really like to get through the holidays… at the end of their lives. Anyway, let’s move on to- away from the darkness toward the questions from our beautiful listeners.

Hank: There’s also I think a-uh there may be a tax advantage to having people die die in January rather than in December and so occasionally doctors who see their patients die on the thirty-first, on the last day of December will just say that they died on January first because it’s just like, it’s a good thing for the taxes of the family of the person so that is an interesting thing as well.

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Dear Hank & John | Ep. 033

An honest man here lies at rest,

(not included line)

As e’er God with His image blest:

The friend of man, the friend of truth;
The friend of age, and guide of youth:
Few hearts like his, with virtue warm’d,
Few heads with knowledge so inform’d:
If there’s another world, he lives in bliss;
If there is none, he made the best of this.

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