I was happy to hear that Joy Harjo is our new United States Poet Laureate. Her life of being a multitalented artist–poet, musician, and playwright, and her poetry all speak to me resoundingly. I’m sharing one of her poems and a video below of another.
And, as it’s our Summer Solstice weekend I have a poem to share about my thoughts on our climate in relation to the solstice.
SPEAKING TREE
By Joy Harjo
I had a beautiful dream I was dancing with a tree.
—Sandra Cisneros
Some things on this earth are unspeakable: Genealogy of the broken— A shy wind threading leaves after a massacre, Or the smell of coffee and no one there—
Some humans say trees are not sentient beings, But they do not understand poetry—
Nor can they hear the singing of trees when they are fed by Wind, or water music— Or hear their cries of anguish when they are broken and bereft—
Now I am a woman longing to be a tree, planted in a moist, dark earth Between sunrise and sunset—
I consulted the month and double checked the date, I wondered… and pondered… Why, season start so late…
I looked up to the sky finally full of leaves, My eyes wanting hope disbelieving disbeliefs.
I returned to nature for her guiding knowledge, She’s here in disguise, open your eyes, acknowledge.
Weather hadn’t foiled flowers despite the cold and rains, Although, pollinators are low with these constrains.
Come now all you humans, you like flowers, birds–bees… Does our climate know it’s Summer? Help her out Please.
The talented and creative Linda Mitchell at her blog:A Word Edgewise is our Poetry Friday host this week, thanks for hosting Linda! Linda’s asked all of us to offer up a line of poetry “that has not seen the light of day” and have it available to exchange with a poet friend. Here’s my line:
Looking forward to feeling the warm sun of summer…
I’m reflecting on Father’s for Father’s Day and focusing on Father’s who are no longer with us.
DAD
In a wink the light of life is out, But between that wink lay a lifetime of memories… Remembering my father and the emotions that filled his life, his unconditional love for family and humanity floats to the top and swelled within his heart, a love that grew deeper as he grew older–
His eyes if deep with sorrow, outwardly mirrored strength of character, and pools of passionate hope.
His thoughts ever filled with financial din, were always open to those oppressed.
His mouth, which marveled to move loquaciously, carried his loving voice, seeking an ever constant connection to others.
His heart with which he felt so powerfully the joy and pain of others, touched us all and spilled over with a profound pulsing love towards all.
I think I may have shared the poetry of Li-Young Lee before or even this poem, but here it is again… He has such a sensitive way with his thoughts and words.
Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads out there and all those remembering their Dad’s too!
Be sure to buzz on over to Laura Shovan’s blog Laura Shovan, she is our Queen Bee Poetry host rounding-up all of us worker bees this week for the Poetry Friday Roundup! Thanks for hosting Laura!
On Saturday, April 27, 2019, I had the privilege and honor of hearing Tracy K. Smith, our 22nd US Poet Laureate at theChicago Public Library’s Poetry Fest. A compelling poet, she is as warm, sharing, and inviting as all her images portray her. I was captured and moved by her talk and poetry readings.
She read from Life on Mars, 2011, which received a Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. Her book asks these questions, ” What do we belong to?” and What are we?” She also read from Wade in the Water, 2018. Wade in the Water includes poems from letters that black soldiers wrote to family members and to the President; correspondence between slave owners; threats to the environment, and more.
WADE IN THE WATER
By Tracy K. Smith
for the Geechee Gullah Ring Shouters
One of the women greeted me.
I love you, she said. She didn’t
Know me, but I believed her,
And a terrible new ache
Rolled over in my chest,
Like in a room where the drapes
Have been swept back. I love you,
I love you, as she continued
Down the hall past other strangers,
Each feeling pierced suddenly
By pillars of heavy light.
I love you, throughout
The performance, in every
Handclap, every stomp.
I love you in the rusted iron
Chains someone was made
To drag until love let them be
Unclasped and left empty
In the center of the ring.
I love you in the water
Where they pretended to wade,
Read the rest of the poemhere and listen to Tracy K. Smith recite it below.
I also want to share one of Tracy K. Smith’s recordings from The Slowdown.The Slowdown is a podcast done weekdays by Smith where, she “delivers a different way to see the world – through poetry. Produced in partnership with the Library of Congress and the Poetry Foundation.” Below I’ve included the last portion of the poem, Beehive, by Jean Toomer, Here’s a link to The Slowdown site, look for the BEEHIVE recorded on May 30, 2019.
I wanted to write a poem that would complement some of the poems I’ve shared here. I felt a pull to write about the tragic life events that came sharply in focus last week with another mass shooting– Tracy K. Smith weaves life both contemporary and historical into her poems, sometimes subtlety and sometimes frankly–my poem follows more of the later form. In her talk, she also shared a bit about her system for writing, which included, (paraphrased) … start your poem with a “question or itch,” try and get traction, see if the sound or image can move forward. Here’s my itch…
SEEING SUMMER’S GREENS
It’s almost summer Greens growing everywhere Flowers of all colors have finally come out
Breathing sighs of beauty
Waiting for your breath to breathe in, But the guns never seem to go away…
12 lives lost in Virginia Beach Take a minute think about them– Their brother, mothers, friends, Another mass shooting Guns Kill–that’s their purpose Take them away and they can’t kill. How can we sweep this aside– Life moves on– Your daughter texts you about getting home But the guns never seem to go away…
7 lives lost in Chicago Over Memorial Day weekend. With 43 individuals shot –Individuals– we need people Seen and to see themselves As individuals, with value and worth. Chicago has a new woman Mayor She said of this event, it’s going to take a long time… We all have to “dig down deeper and ask ourselves what we can do to step up to stem the violence.” But the guns never seem to go away…
Guns Kill–that’s their purpose Take them away and they can’t kill. Take them away and individuals might Start seeing some of summer’s greens
Waiting for their breath to breathe in,
Waiting for their breath to begin to breathe…
Register for one of my Summer Art Classes at the Evanston Art Center, they begin in one week, on June 10, 2019. I’m offering the following classes & workshops. For Registration and info visit the Evanston Art Center or call 847-475-5300.
Happy Poetry Friday! Our Host this week is Mary Lee Hahn. Mary Lee is celebrating Naomi Shihab Nye–and asked us all to join in. I took this idea and ran with it. In addition to being an inspiring and accomplished poet, Nye is our new Young People’s Poet Laureate! Thanks Mary Lee for hosting and suggesting to feature Naomi Shihab Nye! Visit Mary Lee’s blog A Year of Reading, for more poetry and some inspiring prompts…
KINDNESS
by Naomi Shihab Nye
Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness. How you ride and ride thinking the bus will never stop, the passengers eating maize and chicken will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness
Read the rest of the poem here. Listen to her talk about and read KINDNESS below, along with another video on Teaching Poetry.
Mother wind wrap your
drifting blankets of clouds around me…
Caress me between your
chartreuse and sap green
sea of sprouted spring leaves,
and silvery edged ceruleans kissing the sky
catching the last late afternoon dancing light.
Between squirrel’s ca-ca-ca, Robin’s chee chee flutter chee, Crow’s relentless caw-caw-caw, and the gentle waves of ginkgo branches
blocking the blinding rays of sun–
Let me breathe as if it’s my
first and last breath…
Let me send my sigh out to
all in need wanting a taste
of inalienable rights of life.
Let the hoofed, haired, scaled, and winged
animals walk the earth and set us humans
in our proper place appreciating what
this grand sky above us holds.
Let me close my eyes and
open them anew to your splendors–
New sprouts of milkweed unfolding
stories in each unfurling leaf.
Let me find a path that protects nature
even in a small way, protects you–
Let me never give up on you, Mother Nature…
Dani Graham Burtsfield is hosting this weeks Poetry Friday Roundup at her blog Doing the Work that Matters–thanks for hosting Dani! Stop by for your fill of poetry goodness.
PONDERING…
Scrutinize eye and hand, breathe… Slow down, look around, find a space of deep breathing, find a space of deep thinking, find a space of pondering…
Here’re some pics from my trip to NYC last week. Click on the images for a larger view. The Images include:
Sanctuary from the Museum at the Eldridge, in the Eldridge Synagogue; Books in the library of the Morgan Library; Les Paul Guitar belonging to Steve Miller from the exhibit Play it Loud: Instruments of Rock & Roll – Metropolitan Museum of Art, (Met); Women painted on Doors in the High Line; Ukifune’s attempt to drown herself, inspired by the painting Ophelia by John Everett Millais by Yamato Waki, 1992, from the exhibit The Tale of Genji, Met; Fashions from the exhibit at the Met: Camp: Notes on Fashion; Pomegrantes from the exhibit at the Met: The World Between Empires, Art and Identity in the Ancient Middle East; Painting and Sculpture from the Whitney Biennial 2019.
Happy Poetry Friday! I’ve been patiently waiting for the weather to warm. The flowering plants are waiting too… I’m sharing a dizain poem and painting about my peonies and their journey this spring. I learned about the dizain from Molly Hogan’s lyrically moving dizain called Rainy Spring Lament that she wrote last week and decided to try one, thanks Molly.
I’m taking a weekend get-away to see the Whitney Biennial in NYC and hope to catch some of the Poetry Friday posts on my return. Margaret Simon has graciously taken my place this week and is hosting the Poetry Friday Roundup at her blogReflections on the Teche. Be sure to stop by her blog for your fill of poetry goodness! Thanks for hosting Margaret!
PERSISTANT PEONIES
Ants on the peonies barely moving, robust buds slightly shriveled and forlorn, is their sweet nectar now disapproving, the weather’s been withdrawn and woebegone. And blooms–have they taken an about turn– Will we miss their fine feathery fanfare, their rich, enrapturing, awesome affair… I’ve waited all year for their dainty dance, delicate curtsy, and savoir-faire flare– Here’s hoping warmth’l enhance their meager stance.
Happy Poetry Friday and Happy Almost Mother’s Day!
I’m sharing some small thoughts for Mom’s and nature…
Elizabeth Steinglass is hosting this weeks Poetry Friday Roundup at her blog ELIZABETH STEINGLASS Poetry for Children and their Grownups, thanks for hosting Liz! Liz has a debut picture book in verse on soccer that’s coming out soon, it’s called SOCCERVERSE POEMS ABOUT SOCCER. Stop by her blog for more poetry goodness and to check out her book!
YOU LONELY, LOVELY ONE…
Does anybody like you, you’re a flower too. Like a sun fallen from the sky skirted in dainty ray florets– Some cadmium yellow dance around your middle while others flash a hint of lime green. Your jaggedy leaves add an extra bonus on our salad fairs, and your light ruby red stems add an extra flair of savoir-faire. You’re perfect in each and every way, a neglected stepchild loaded with oodles of essential potential. I’ll only collect a few of you, a sister, brother, aunt, and uncle, rap a ribbon round your center, and tie a tidy bow… My mother would be so pleased I didn’t take a tulip, daisy, or rose– But only you… You lonely, lovely one, darling dandelion for my Mother’s Day nosegay!
I’ve been hunting around for another Mother’s Day poem to share, and on my journey I found this poem Summer at the Orphanage by Laure-Anne Bosselaar. The poem is from my book If Bees Are Few A Hive of Bee Poems. As I couldn’t find it online, to share the rest with you, you’ll have to make a trip to your local library or bookstore to savor the rest, or let your fingers do the walking…
SUMMER AT THE ORPHANAGE
by Laure-Anne Bosselaar
The bee dozes in a lily’s yellow throat. July sighs over the convent’s garth where an old linden blooms & bees hover low –– exhausted by the loads of pollen.
I’m only five, but exhausted too: I know longing’s weight in my lungs & legs, so I shelter the bee there, in its buttery abundance, my shadow a dome over the bloom.
At dust, the chapel bells thorn the air. Swarms of uniforms flock toward that bronze authority. I’m alone. The courtyard is empty & large as absence suddenly –– silent as my mother, dark as her back & black car as she drove away, flicking her ashes out the window.
Light dies. I fear the bee might get caught here –– in this nunnery, like me ––so I stroke its belly from under the bloom’s throat & lazy, slow, it comes out golden as mother’s jewelry.
I wasn’t going to post anything this week for I am on my way out the door to a SCBWI Midwest Conference in the morning. But I read Jama’s lovely flowered filled post and wanted to add some more flowers to our chilly May beginning. Thank you for your lovely post Jama in words and images! Visit Jama’s blog Jama’s Alphabet Soup for some delectable strawberries, rich poetry, art, and more poetry listings. Hope to catch up with all the poetry offerings on my return. Thanks for hosting this week Jama!
For National Poetry Month, I’m writing poems inspired by art that I create or have created. Visit these spots on line to participate in National Poetry Month:Academy of American Poets, Jama’s Rattigan’s Blog for the Kidlitoshphere Events Roundup:Jama’s Alphabet Soup and#NaPoWriMo
