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Wednesday, April 8, 2020

April 8, 2020

In The Car Ahead by Michael Mark (published in April issue of The Sun)
The Simple Truth  by Philip Levine (Levine reading, background of jazz here: The Simple Truth 
Thanks by W. S. Merwin  (discussed previously
Sempre Forte  by Alicia Hoffman (published in Spring issue of "The Shore"
Interesting Times by Mark Jarman (From Tracey K. Smith's site, "The Slow Down)
How to Survive This by Barbara Kingsolver


There is vibrancy now, in Spring and reminders that each moment we live is a treasure, an invitation to ask each other,
How do you see how we are part of all of this?  19 of us gathered via zoom to read aloud the above poems and discuss responses.


In The Car Ahead by Michael Mark
Discussion included how we adapt to new technology, like a man in a new car adapting-- and many other associations with driving such as "how did I end up here".  The title elicits a sense of sentimental cooperation "on the road" -- as opposed to a sense of impatience once you think the point of view is from a driver making judgements/suppositions about the car ahead.  There, but for the grace of God, go I...
clever last sentence which capitalizes on line break offering three discrete sentences, and yes, there is no period to separate them.
He needs more time to remember.
 he's driving and not dreaming.
he's driving.
He needs more time... repeated 6 times.  The first, fifth and final mention, those words are together; the second, third, fourth mention, a line break happens between  he needs/ and more/time with
the fourth mention not followed by anything else.
Small poem, long discussion.


The Simple Truth  by Philip Levine
Here, a longer poem and a long discussion!  The metaphors of potatoes, salt, work in the truth, which is not at all simple, but simply told about a complex situation.
What is it we do? don't do?  how does the woman who sells potatoes have the authority to say (but to whom? to strangers buying from her stand?  Or is it more personal?) "even if you don't eat I'll say you did."  "Can you taste/ what I'm saying?"  That is the one question in the poem.
He lays out details, like the mysterious "absence of light gathering/in the shadows of picture frames"-- whatever "this" his friend Henri and he arrived at.  What prevents us from saying the truth?  Is it only the timing?  Or that it needs to be stripped to only the picture "naked and alone"?  So much cannot be uttered, spoken as Levine offers us pieces of memory, spoken in haunting cadences.
It "lights a fuse to speak the unspoken" to quote Jan.

Thanks by W. S. Merwin  (discussed in previous years.)
We noted the escalation of thanks with the increase of gravity of disaster, from an ordinary table,
to illness and grief, to life in the city and damage to our planet.  Perhaps a sense of being on one's death bed, reconciling the richness of life, this opportunity to be alive, with the gravity of all that makes life so difficulty;  both reassuring and disquieting, where one could embrace either a sense of
desperation, a waving to signal help, or a signal of greeting.  Kathy reminded us of the poem by Stevie Smith, "Drowning not Waving" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FKHWEWOrL9s

Sempre Forte  by Alicia Hoffman 
The title, "always loud" means always loud... and the poem seems to etch a quest for coherence in a time of things falling apart.   John quoted  Stravinsky, "Where were you when the page was blank"--
We discussed some of the contradictions, the references to the epigram, "No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible", the one note, one snowflake, what gathered one by one before
Vesuvius erupted.  We were curious about how to understand the three repeated "As if".
David criticized the lack of coherence and felt it was overwrought.

Interesting Times by Mark Jarman (From Tracey K. Smith's site, "The Slow Down)
The title hints at a condemning Chinese proverb.  We were grateful for a strain of reassuring humor as a sense of sliding towards an unavoidable catastrophe unfolded.  Serious, yet funny at the same time, the discussion focussed on the sweep of history, the way things seem to appear one way, but leave us with uncertainty as to what is really going on.  Jim reminded us, indeed, the universe is expanding, and referenced the book Until the end of Time by Brian Green.   https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/549600/until-the-end-of-time-by-brian-greene/
How does the crow fly?  Straight, directly, no matter what it holds in its beak, or whether it hangs on to it, including the possibility of its own nest.


How to Survive This by Barbara Kingsolver
This final poem with such a promising title, does not provide solutions to the times in which we find ourselves.  Her poem echoes her fine scientific writing as she holds inquiry about our journey.
John provided reference to a young French surfer, Aurelien Bouche-Pillon, who lives for the chance to surf under the hardest
circumstances. https://vimeo.com/248534988
In this clip, he reminds us, if we do not ask "why", we are not truly living, expanding our horizons.
John also provided his take on not avoiding adversity as it avoids embracing the "whole catastrophe" of life.  "Tears are the river of redemption and survival".  

Sonnia asked what people thought of the following:  Does our society, or can any society prepare for adversity?

I cannot do justice to the rich flow of commentary, however, without a doubt, everyone concurs that poetry is one of our essential tools to help us live with our questions and wonderings and a source of solace. 

1 comment:

paul said...

I am sorry to be missing these Zoomathons..........I like Alicia Hoffman's Sempre Forte. My first approach to reading it was translating the title as Always Strong, since the musical Forte is accented over the "e". I do think that she meant the musical "loud",but I can read "strength" as another use for some areas in the work. Therefore, I must conclude in
Rabelaisian philosophical terms that the author made use of a double entendre and that my original perception of Forte was not without merit....n c'est pas ?