For while I'm gone:
Aug. 20: Elaine Richane
August - Mary Oliver; United by Naomi Shihab Nye;
Ghazal: America the Beautiful by Alicia Ostriker (maybe not?)
Day of the Refugios by Alberto Ríos
I Hear America Singing by Walt Whitman
Aug. 27: Bernie Shore
In Our Blindness, Chalked Up To Just Be Fate by Robert Lindley (11- 21-2019
Heavenly Length by Bill Holm (1943-2009)[1]
Carrying Paul by Ted Kooser
Opening by Tess Gallaher (from Poems from Is, Is Not)
Two poems by U Tak[2] 1263 - 1343
At the Fair by Edith Sitwell
September 3 : Elaine
Sept. 10
September 17
September 24 -- Bernie
Poems from Is, Is Not by Tess Gallager:
Recognition; Hummingbird-Mind; Blue Eyelid Lifting; Cloud Path
My Species, by Jane Hirshfield
Oct. 1
Oct. 8
[1] A popular contributor to Writers Almanac:
BILL HOLM was born to Icelandic immigrants on a farm north of Minneota, Minnesota in 1943. A long-time resident of Minneota, Holm lived with his wife Marcie and taught at Southwest Minnesota State University in Marshall from 1980 until he retired in 2007. He traveled widely, to Iceland on a Fulbright in 1979, and more recently to his summer home in Hofsos; and to China, where he taught on an academic exchange program in 1986 and again in 1992. The recipient of the 2008 McKnight Distinguished Artist Award, Holm is the author of several books of essays and poetry including, most recently, The Windows of Brimnes. Known both regionally and nationally as a humorist, writer, and prairie radical, Bill Holm passed away on February 26, 2009. -- Marianne CombsMarch 21, 2011 6:00 AM
[2] U Tak, born in 1263, was a Korean philosopher of neo-Confucianism and poet. He died in 1343.
Joy Harjo: Eddy's share: her book “An American Sunrise” and there have been poems that also mention “story” in a kind of metaphorical sense. One poem is “The Story Wheel” (photo below), and another is “Washing My Mother’s Body”, in which she says “The story is all there, in her body, as I wash her to prepare her / to be let down into earth, and return all stories to the earth.” And later, “I emerged from the story, dripping with the waters of memory.” Lastly, I interpret “Without” as Harjo expressing a desire to meet her “beloved rascal” again, maybe after death. The poem was written too early to be about this, but I believe her daughter Rainy Dawn Ortiz passed away in 2023. (A poem she wrote:
More Than Something Else
Something Else.
Some one else
Some where else
That place is here,
In my home,
We are here.
I am brown,
Brown hair,
Brown eyes,
Like cookies Feather tells me, and I like to think it’s perfectly
cooked Pueblo cookies.
My kids are something else,
9 different shades of brown,
All beautiful.
My grandkids are something else,
4 brown eyes, 2 blue eyes,
All Native,
Definitely something else, as I watch them be rowdy, be loving,
be here in this world.
We are here
On this earth
In this time and place
In our homes,
On our lands,
In the cities,
With our families, laughing loudly, cooking together, protecting
each other.
We are something else
With our songs
Our dances.
We pray with corn meal,
Eagle feathers,
Medicine bundles,
Burn some sage, make sure to acknowledge the four directions,
as the sun comes up.
We are the something else,
Who were here,
To greet Christopher Columbus
We were born from
This earth,
Crawled out of the center,
Of our mother’s womb, we are important, we are strong.
We are something else,
We are Pueblo people, Plains people, Forest People, Desert
people, Nomadic people, Cliff dwellers, Ocean fishers, Lake and
river fishers, hunters, medicine collectors, horse riders, artists,
speakers, lawyers, doctors, teachers, we are human beings.
We are something else,
We are Native People,
Indigenous to this land.
We are a proud,
Something else.
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