Lochan by Kathleen Jamie; This Morning I Pray for My Enemies by Joy Harjo 1951 –; Before I Was a Gazan by Naomi Shihab Nye 1952 Iris Song Rickey Laurentiis[1] audio -- includes commentary; You Reading This, Be Ready by William Stafford; An Aspect of Love, Alive in the Ice and Fire; Chocolates by Louis Simpson; Short History by Jonathan Everitt;
Lochan: I gave a small note for the two meanings of the word, both a "small lake" and in the Hindu tradition, a term related to "eye" or vision. It is helpful to know the poem comes from a collection entitled, Jizzen, yet another Scots term, albeit obsolete meaning confinement of a mother after birth of her child.
I love a poem that can be addressing a sweeping universal and a particular at the same time. So it is in the opening line: When all this is over, I mean... How many times do we say this, making promises? I mean is enjambed twice. Normally, we expect a re-definition or more details as opposed to what we intend to do. The poet surprises us by telling us what she means to do: travel north, find a quiet lochan. The line breaks and spaces between couplets give a lovely sense of breathing, enhanced by the anticipatory thinking. We wondered about the word "white"
implied perhaps in those mountain dog roses whose red can pale to white, perhaps the in the color of water lilies, and comparison of their reflection but certainly the word "white" in the last line for a boat. Here, it may not be chance that it is waiting as if part of a larger scheme, and under a Rowan tree which I associate with decorating with Christmas with its dark green leaves and red berries.
If one interprets the first line as meaning "after childbirth" all these details make me wonder if perhaps the poem is about the loss of a child?
Regardless, the poem slows us down, allows us to feel the travel from the "high/drove roads", those paths up into the hills where one drives the cattle in early summer to profit from the new grasses. And the Lochan? The word appears softly in the 5th stanza after imagining the physical landscape, launching a more metaphysical, meditative state of being before embarking on whatever lies in store.
This morning: In this 9 line poem starting with a question, there are no line breaks. Each line is a complete, unbroken thought, but escapes from feeling like a sermon or prose. Perhaps it is the shorter lines that confirm a sense of optimism: And whom do I call my enemy? The heart is the smaller cousin of the sun. It sees and knows everything. These short lines are not an answer
but direct the reader to the sun and the heart and the longest line comes as a surprise -- reversing the usual idea of "risk" as a positive. We would never say, "watch out! You might find or make a friend!" What a delightful way to mirror to us the labeling of "enemy" that interferes with friendship. In the discussion, people picked up on the indiscriminate nature of the sun which shines on us all, and undertones the Sermon on the mount. "Love your enemies; the sun rises equally on the just and unjust". As one person put it, the poem is wonderful because it contains both the sense of particular and general which applies to all of us and reaches our "poetry soul".
It was one of the proposed "poem in your pocket day" poems.
Here are a few more examples:
There is something about the innocence of 2nd grader who writes:
They say the moon loves love
and will smile if you lend your heart.
I know the galaxy loves me like the moon--
look up at that starry path--
you can feel its love in the calm silence.
**
Another poem suggested was this delightful Emily Dickinson:
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee.
And revery.
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.
Before I was a Gazan: This poem also was proposed for "Poem in your pocket" day.
The title subtly suggests the problem of labeling. We can imagine any boy, and can imagine the situation of being proud to arrive at school to show one has understood the homework. Using the metaphor of math, the "subtraction" hits hard, and the grief multiplies. How is it that what should be a normal day in the life of a child turns into a day of extinction of his friends, family, his life as it had been and will never be again. The poem calls us to feel this need to do anything for a solution to end all war everywhere. The poem was written in 2014, following the poet's interaction with literacy programs and children in Gaza.
Iris Song: I put a footnote that the poet Rickey Laurentiis is the author of Death of the First Idea (Alfred A. Knopf, 2025). The link to the poem shows a picture of Rickey, who identifies as transgender.
Listening to Rickey read one feels the importance of the role of a spoken poem which conveys through tone and rhythm a sensitive layering of language one might not receive only reading the words. The arrangement of visual cues by a poet do not always line up with how they are used.
We noted the conventional capitalization of each line which emphasizes for instance, 3rd line "Themselves". Whether this is intended to stress the role of a plural pronoun for a transgender person, I do not know. The repetitions are delicate. You matter. (end of line 4.) Line 5: Who in you is most material, so (line break to line 6)
You matter. One could imagine many different ways of saying, "so you matter".
One person noted gone as a possible contraction of going to pronounced as gonna, but also could be implying past tense,has gone. It sounded as if on lines 7 and 8 the word looking was omitted.
In the spoken commentary Rickey says inspiration came from Kanye West and Rue Mapp, founder and CEO of Outdoor Afro, a national not-for-profit organization she established in 2009 to reconnect Black communities with nature. [1]Rickey mentioned also Toni Morrison who argued that the "very serious function of racism is distraction". [2]
We wondered about the title: is Iris a person? Perhaps the "you" in the first line? Who is the "you" in the poem? The poet? fellow transgender people? fellow black people? Iris could be referring to eye, and black pupil. One person imagined adding a "k" pronounced thus, I risk.
You reading this: There are many ways of interpreting "you" in the title which might call forth different scenarios. I could imagine a hospice situation, or a letter written to someone in deep distress, or two intimate friends. However it is, I am glad that I am the "you" reading the poem with the reminder of the importance of mindful awareness. As one person summed it up, it's a gratitude poem. Another noted how the poem starts with two stanzas of questions and then it would seem gives advice for a turn in the journey, reflecting on this "interval" spent in a day... what someone called a reminder of the "dash between the years" only to return to a confirmation that whatever it is to be remembered about it, is best gift of all -- but expressed as a question.
Gathered in a room discussing poetry, whether at the library or Writers and Books, we are
beneficiaries of a beautiful sense of "now". At Pittsford, Graeme, who with his family, some of whom are in Australia, are in the middle of planning a wedding, received a "message ding". He
texted them back, Here I am at the Pittsford Intercontinental Macrocosmic Poetic Lovefest... but I should be able to make myself available after 2:30 or so. Imagine me, sprinting from the room mid-stanza. We have some deliciously complex issues to discuss. I believe that last bit was about the details of the wedding, but like to imagine our "poetic lovefest" embraces the same sort of discussion!
An aspect: At first, one think the author is LaBohem Brown, but scroll down, and you see that it is Gwendolyn Brooks. Is the "We" at the end of line one a collective noun for two, for a group or for all humankind? The versatility perfect to echo with the equal multi-faceted possibilities in the title. "Ice and Fire" immediately brought to mind the poem by Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice" penned in 1920.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
I believe that LaBohem is an invented character, but it is hard not to think of the Opera, by Pucchini. Other poems by Brooks come to mind as well: https://poets.org/poem/sonnet-ballad
and "Intermission" (By all things planetary I swear...)
One person summarized the poem as "snatched intimacy amongst chaos". It is highly charged and most seemed to capture the sexual intensity. The spelling of African with a K was a way to signal Black Pride.[3]
I look forward to continued conversations about this poem!
Chocolates: a delightful poem. One person remarked that Chekhov remarked a conversation about fruit jam might be a convenient distraction from addressing politics. The poet understands the fun of suc a ruse and deftly substitutes chocolate!
Short History: Although written from a prompt, it feels to be an important poem just by itself. If you were asked to think about "size" where would you go? Size of ego, of universe, or length
of history of the human race? Many liked the sense of a sense of omniscience, albeit not mentioned, but ending with our search for something that gives meaning to the greater scheme of life. We enjoyed as well the rhythms and repetitions of an adjective stretched to a comparison with an image... We were brief. Briefer... We were sad. Sadder... We were happy... happier.
The elements of randomness give this poem a "punchy feel". We enjoyed the 5 initial uses of the anaphor We were further repeated 5 times mid line.
Interesting that the final "sentence" starts with We read, which could be present or past tense.
**
Extra: Rick shared this site
https://michaeljerling.com/pdfs/TheyLiveOninWordandSong-brochure.pdf
and these lyrics
When Words Still Mattered ℗ 2018 Michael Jerling
When words still mattered
When we were young
Petals and pearls
Rolled off our tongues
In the ashes of Empires
The embers of change
We fought our battles
In the caffes
Oil on a canvas
Ink on a page
A bow on the strings
A turn on a stage
Perhaps we were too comfortable
We were to free
In between wars
And calling it peace
It came on us slowly
It came on so fast
Out of the future
And into the past
Take what you can carry
Pay all you can pay
I'm still a prisoner
Though I got away
When words still mattered
When we were young
Petals and pearls
Rolled off our tongues
In the ashes of Empires
The embers of change
We fought our battles
In the caffes
[1] Started as a kitchen table blog in Oakland, California, it has grown into a leading network with leaders in up to 60 cities.
[2] In a 1975 speech, she explained that racism forces Black people to waste time explaining their humanity and reason for being, rather than engaging in their creative or productive work. This distraction hinders focusing on deeper, natural, or creative pursuits.
[3] AI will tell you: African" is the standard English spelling referring to the continent or its people, while "Afrikan" (or "Afrika") is a conscious, political, and cultural spelling used to reclaim indigenous identity, rejecting colonial influences that replaced the 'k' with a 'c'. Using "k" often signifies Pan-Africanism
