Friday, October 7, 2016

Rundel Oct. 13

see poems from Oct. 5

Blackberry Eating -- by Galway Kinnel
Persimmons – by Li-Young Lee
Blueberries by Robert Frost

+ House by Pablo Neruda
from list from Library Program Oct. 6 below:

the poet Galway Kinnell liked to use words that he said had “mouth feel.”
How does this line-up "taste" to you?
What makes a fine poem, a funny poem, an illuminating poem?
What poems do you recall as “glittering gems” filled with surprise and delight?
The first three all have fruit… Note: What looks to be a long poem in page-length, gallops along when spoken outloud.
I am hoping we will have time for the last two which were part of the program yesterday, and contrast sharply.

For those who couldn’t make the Poetrymusic: Colleen O’Brien and Chris Lee performed the following poems. I am curious how you felt the music and poetry with images worked for you.

1. House by Pablo Neruda :

Perhaps this is the house I lived in
when neither I nor earth existed,
when all was moon or stone or darkness,
when still light was unborn.
Perhaps then this stone was
my house, my windows or my eyes.
This rose of granite reminds me
of something that dwelled in me or I in it,
a cave, or cosmic head of dreams,
cup or castle, ship or birth.
I touch the stubborn spirit of rock,
its rampart pounds in the brine,
and my flaws remain here,
wrinkled essence that rose
from the depths to my soul,
and stone I was, stone I will be. Because of this
I touch this stone, and for me it hasn’t died:
it’s what I was, what I will be, resting
from a struggle long as time.
—translation by Dennis Maloney

2. Last Paragraph of Jack Kerouac: On the Road

3. 4 poems by Emily Dickinson: starting with : A Light Exists in Spring
ending with Wild Nights! Wild Nights!

4. The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

5. Daffodils by William Wordsworth:
6. Sonnet 28 by Elizabeth Browning:
7. Wave by Gary Snyder: the actual performance!
8. Autumn by Toshiyuku no Fijiwara:
the words on the screen and sung in performance were different:
To my eyes it is not clear
that autumn has come
but the chill whisper
of the invisible wind
startles me to awareness.
9. Sonnet 60 by William Shakespeare
10. Where everything’s music by Rumi:

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