Poems for March 24

Miracles & Wonder by Alicia Hoffman

Sempre Forte  by Alicia Hoffman

Letter to My Great, Great Grandchild  by J.P. Grasser

Reapers by Jean Toomer

Rock Me, Mercy  by  Yusuf Komunyakaa                     

Easter, 1916 by W. B. Yeats

Nutshell summary:

Miracles & Wonder It was a pleasure to welcome back Alicia who read us two poems.  The title of the first, she explained, 

came from a Paul Simon song, from Graceland.  She collects words and phrases... which then find themselves into her poems without any preconceived plan.  I loved how the poem started out

with a "mission"-- and several people picked up on where the combination of daily news and the body's equipment led:  "I have no remedy for living".  The language continues to mesmerize (viz. "cabinetry of the brain" as opposed to the expected "chemistry"; the "storage drawer for petrichor") shifting into military mode, to "march into the day as inventory commander, sight supervisor -- with this mission:

to witness the astonishing.  The delight of the poem continues, reaffirming that wonder does indeed

exist... along with the wonder that will confront any disbelief, that we exist.

We all agreed how wonderful it is to have a word like petrichor-- that such a word exists... that poetry provides us with a manner of gifts, not least of which is the way words, well-managed, help shape our attitudes towards what might be routine, help us feel anchored to something miraculous.  

Sempre Forte: From the beginning epigraph to the metaphorical understanding behind a singular snowflake in a white field... the poems leads us through a meditation on significance... and an almost

antithetical response to "insignificance":  love it all, place no blame -- and the inescapable clamor

if the speaker of the poem indeed  (echoing the avalanche in the epigram) succeeds in the plan "to clash like a cymbal's clang into the landscape."

As if...(paradox with self: "as if crashing can ever be weighed by the brain's dull architecture" as if... 

(back to the snow crystal sliding onto this blank canvas) holding a moral code.

Refreshing images, beautiful pacing of the couplets, starting with the reference to music as silence between the notes, ending with "fleck of notation on the sheet of a score".  The Title's latin, "always strong", as musical direction.  Alicia mentioned how she couldn't remember how she came up with it,

a refreshing confirmation that sometimes things just happen and we can't remember, or perhaps do not know why.

Letter to my Great, Great Grandchild:  I mentioned Peter Jemison and his work now on display at the MAG, and the Seneca belief in being good caretakers and stewards to leave the Earth in as good a condition as we can for those not yet born 7 generations hence... We need to recognize the struggle between "progress" and the price paid for it... The poem's tone starts with a term of endearment, 

a gentle confession of what has gone wrong... with the lens of future generations.  Ice... dumped out... --

but then, think about what went into making it... and how natural ice is disappearing at the poles, and our disrespect of water. How dancing went on even in times of war... names of animals only preserved by cars named after them... the real dog and the plastic dish... the line break on "playing/dead".  All these details sift through the  couplets, small windows through which to view a long list.  The light irony illuminates

disaster in a way no lecture can deliver...

Reapers: Written in 1923, you hear the sound of steel... watch its use... the silent repeating, the accidental

murder of the rat... the way everything goes on.  Hard not to think of human life .  Who's next? How will 

it happen?  The use of sounds, repeated words; alliteration reinforces the multiple dimensions of  this short 8 line poem.  Perhaps the two parts allude to time, and  initial bl in black couples with blood, bleed, blade,

oh... uh... the squeal of ee, in the rhymed lines... n's shifting to d's... the end... and who's the next arbitrary (and unsuspecting) rat?

Rock Me, Mercy:  hearing Komunyaaka read this... with a beautiful pacing, as if loaded with silence between the lines... The River stones... the listening, the silence... the waiting... and finally he spoke it,

Mercy... please, rock me.

Our group was struck dumb.  We gave ourselves time to individually  review our own shock at the Sandy Hook School killing... and this past year, this past week... but in the comfort of each other's presence.

In essence, we are all walking each other home.  We spoke of how our need for connection has turned into a demand as we are pulled to be aware of everything...  of how we

have dealt with over a year of pandemic,  how we witness, survive. 

Recommendations: 

David Attenborough discusses humanity's impact on nature and the actions we can take to save the planet in A Life on our Planet.