poems for Oct. 9-10

The Rider, by Naomi Shihab Nye
Small Kindnesses by Danusha Laméris

 The Sound I Listened For by Robert Francis

Lemon Jam by Nicomedes Suárez-Araúz translated by Steven Ford Brown 

Buffalograss. by Jake Skeets

We started the class with listening to her poem, Kindness, and the story behind it.

Married for one week, she and her husband  were spending their honeymoon in Colombia, South America — and a gang came on the bus  they were riding… and took  everything — luggage, passport, money… and murdered an Indian man.  They realized that hadn’t lost everything.  They were still alive.   Later, once located in a town, a man noticed their distress and  asked them what was wrong, with such kindness in his face as he listened to their story.  She felt she only just understood this word at that moment.   That night, the poem announced itself  in her head and she found a pencil and scrap of paper to record the words.
The 13 line poem, The Rider, elicited a good 25 minutes of discussion-- and could have continued indeed! What makes the poem work?  That it had a poignant effect, perhaps is in the power of the   narrative, the personnification of loneliness, the idea of outrunning something which makes us feel disconnected (idea to which we all can relate... )
We noted the complexity of the set-up, a boy... speaking about outrunning loneliness; the speaker of the poem, wondering if outrunning could be done on bicycle... and then the final nature image,
where we are reminded, nature  is not self-reflexive, doesn't grapple with feelings... and the slowness of the falling of petals.  Every had a story, an association.
 George mentioned when he listens to the blues, he feels he can outrun any loneliness...
John brought up the danger of sentimentality and pity parties which was immediately countered by
defense of the poem which is neither sentimental, nor self-indulgent.  David brought up Robert Frost,
the wish (poem title?) and the dealing with what there is.
Martin brought up that we are never alone -- we always have our shadow.

Danusha Laméris's first name means “morning star” in Slavic and “bow” (as in “bow and arrow”) in Sanskrit.  Dutch father and a mother from the island of Barbados,  her family lived, briefly, in Beirut, Lebanon ... Her book was chosen by Naomi Shihab Nye.  Indeed, a similar sense to her poems.

The ends of lines feel like a breath;  We discussed small act of kindness as antidote to loneliness. gestures of connection… and Kathy brought up 

I see you.  I am here. S. Africa. Greetings in South Africa, and translation “I see you.”  response.  “I am here”  (perhaps after the session 10/16 we can discuss the words of connection.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ubuntu_philosophy

Thank you Kathy B. for the quote from Martin Espada about  Nicomedes Suárez-Araúz in the poem Lemon Jam translated by Steven Ford Brown

"any poet  who can look at  ground cinnamon and see the rusted armor of the conquistator has found the crossroads between imagination and history.”

And as always, thank you’s to everyone’s observations, sharing of background.  It is definitely the spirit of Ubuntu (see above) — I close with sharing Archbishop Desmond Tutu's definition in a 1999.

"A person with Ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, based from a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed.”

The Sound I Listened For by Robert Francis, a student encouraged by Frost, indeed has overtones of the "sound of sense" which governs the sonnet.   Francis takes us to a moment of partnership between man and horse with the sound of the mower,  like a musical score moving through time.  The line about patience running through the strength as voice and horses haul intrigued both groups.

Lemon Jam:  Kathy B. commented on Martin Espada saying this about the poet:

Nicomedes Suárez-Araúz:  "Any poet  who can look at  ground cinnamon and see the rusted armor of  conquistadors has found the crossroads between imagination and history/". 

How can you not love a poet who says

"Scrape away the peel of day" -- to squeeze the juice of it, make a syrup with it... and thus, with a sunrise, it is indeed, "sweet,/with no bitterness at all," and the contrast with the huts in the Amazon,

the invasion of the Spaniards which destroyed their life, is a crazy jam of paradox and highly effective.

to find out more about the yanomami:  http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/special/world/yanomami/

Buffalograss:

a lot of free association.  It helps to read the note first:   

About This Poem

 “This poem began as a conversation between the Navajo words anáá' and anaa'. Anáá' can be translated to ‘eye’ and anaa' can be translated into ‘war.’ The act of desire can become violent, especially between Native men. I imagined a man seeing another man naked in front of him for the first time; these men become engaged in wants of the eye, desires of the body, but also in an act of war. The couplet, a form that wants harmony between two lines, seemed to be the most perfect fit to speak toward this tension, this desire, this war.”
—Jake Skeets

The poem is perhaps meant to be unintelligible… secret. private.  We loved the reference of the cottonwood trees --
"the letter t vibrating in cottonwoods" which prepares the ear for the line 
" His tongue a mosquito whispering

its name a hymn on mesquite"

Nature Aria: exactly what it is and how what should be free of anxiety, is not, with a sense of menacing at the end.

Rundel will discuss more in depth : I cannot say I did not 

Pittsford : discussions of mother/daughter; eternal life, etc.