March 30

Sic Terminus by Robert Pence

I Forgive by Carolyne Wright

Mercy by Stephen Dunn

The Cry by Ai Qing

The Mirror by Ai Qing

Sea and Tears by Ai Qing

 

two extras for the in person group:

Paul’s Puzzle (all palindromes, like racecar)

All will be revealed when smoke and mirrors disappear. The racecar driver will go backwards on the track from front to rear.

 

                                    Yo, Banana boy !

                                    

                                            Don't nod...

 

                                 Dennis and Edna sinned.

 

                                 Won't lovers revolt now ?

 

                             He lived as a devil, eh, Mom ?

 

                                            ( Wow!)

and I love This Land  by Ai Qing http://poetrypacific.blogspot.com/2014/08/3-poems-by-ai-qing.html

Sic Terminus:  Why the title in Latin?  Thus it ends... but the 3 stanza poem discusses  beauty, illusion, subjects which allow us through art, through the power of our thinking, to imagine a "thus" to be a multiple array of conclusions.  What would you list after the colon, "This is beauty:" ?

The poet carries out the metaphor of "illusion" of a river seeming to reverse, the rewinding and retelling of our stories, and the  "end" lying in the sea.  

The power of words to draw forth old associations works well in the opening stanza, setting an intimate mood-- the breeze "tousles" the river...  a friendly, intimate gesture.  Some might read "Ohio River"  and think of Pittsburgh, others might think of the north-south divide and slaves struggling to be free as they follow the "north star".  58 degrees and a tease of Spring in the notoriously fickle month of March (in the North).   Of course, as readers, we know the first stanza is a perfect example of only one possible set-up that can be associated with beauty! 

At first glance, the "reverse" is rather like looking into the mirror of time, the "tape" flowing backward like a rewind of a cassette... perhaps a measurement.  The poem does not provide any sound of the garbling of a tape played backwards, only the idea of retelling -- and the powerful tool of our story-telling which can provide a slant sense of truth (although this is absent from the poem) to how we see our lives.

Bernie went into a lovely reflection about illusion and beauty that "easy on eyes and heart" is a way of preserving a trust in beauty, a hope for the future.  Judith brought up  “close but no cigar” for the metaphor of "the tide returns"... 

 (and I learned  the expression "close only counts in horseshoes (and hand grenades)” ) The poem shows nature at work,  explores the art of story telling, and the gift of art to allow us to recreate.  Marna liked the idea of water providing the bread of a sandwich in 1st and 3rd stanzas, the one a particular detail, the other a larger universal, containing possibilities our illusions provide.

I forgive:  For the Carolyne Wright, the zoom group thought this was an amazingly poignant way to tell a story and got into the discussion of abuse— how one doesn’t know until the policeman asks what to do with the “abuser” (Whadda we do with him, lady?) that the speaker is a woman.  Is Roy Otis a stranger?  Or does she live with this man, a “wanted man” — is she making excuses for him, yet another time?

Judith's first response: "Frosting on the politically correct cupcake."

The discussion embraced the ambivalence… If there is mention of a “white cop” does that mean Roy is a “black man”… 

Does she want to protect him because of this?  Does she feel guilty if she doesn't for any reason? Do both sides want revenge?  Bernie saw the line, “I forgive my heart for being glad” as an indication of self-acceptance… Jan noted how she has used all her body… left hand, right arm (and our associations with right and wrong and arms of justice perhaps, although that didn’t come up); ears, eyes, heart…ending with the tongue.

How important our words are, pronouncing the final decision… Both groups admired how the poems provided  different shades of complexity.  

Mercy:  How do you say this word?  How many different contexts do you associate with it?  How many does the poem provide?

Delightful romp, " chock full of tidbits", a treasure trove of feelings, reflections and a recognizable situation of "I really wish I were elsewhere".  Welcome to the execution! The humor of the pun, followed by the enjambed "of a theory" doubles the pleasure.

Execution, both of the notes of music, and the “atonal hell” of cerebral exercise called “music”.  What about feelings? is it  just "the old-fashioned, I don’t want to feel anything"… and is this a problem?”  

Some music really grabs us -- and Judith shared the story about the opera fan providing the tenor part to Violetta’s solo: https://www.classicfm.com/composers/verdi/lisette-oropesa-tenor-audience-duet/

The memory of a meaningful moment of a full octave is a fine escape for whatever sounds of the concert (another sort of pun--

how can the music be better than it sounds if they are creating atonal hell?).  And he returned in time to applaud appropriately. 

What unresolved thoughts do we have?  How do we judge others fairly, without knowing what unresolved, possibly conflicting thoughts another has?  (I brought up Bryan Stevenson's work with justice in Alabama: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfZPl4CFEUc.  

Towards the end, he discusses choices, where circumstances are such that they force an action that would not happen should the circumstances be otherwise.   Is it "just a bad choice and he should know better" if a young teen take drugs, joins a gang, because s/he can escape the intolerable anxiety for a few hours from feeling constantly threatened, with no hope?

 

For the Ai Qing… 

The Cry: the quality of “piercing” — not how we think of a cry of life — but in the opening stanza, almost a hurtful  sound… 

The translation renders a triple repetition of "piercing", and anaphor of "where" with moving, spinning, flying to describe the universe.  It comes as a surprise  to find the contrast, twice of “from a place of darkness”… towards that glittering clarity leads us to the "cry of life".   Marna spoke of all the liquid sounds that lead to that word “life”.  This is spring:  rather like "this is beauty:"

 David mentioned the tree frogs near the pond where he lives. 

The mirror: The larger mirror of life, reflecting everything -- as Paul puts it, the mirror reverses... so we are looking at "anti-matter".  Perhaps you can read it and think, nothing new here...  But the very word draws us in with associations,

what we see, how hard it is to see for instance when shaving... Flat, unfathomable, and up to you to deal with the truth it shows.

The translator's note says this:  "The mirror in this prophetic and minatory work, is a metaphor for art, or, perhaps, the artist: within art one search to find oneself, although what is found may not be what was wanted.  If one is a true artist, it is hard to avoid the censure of those who wish to destroy the truth revealed."

Sea and tears:  Why the question?  What is it we need to understand about sea becoming tears and vice-versa?

The need for hope as hardship follows peace, as it does repeatedly in the history of Chinese dynasties, is underlined.

It is not "A day MIGHT come" -- but a day WILL come... there is a quiet reassurance in the wheel of life to continue to repeat and return. 

Antonia's Education: There are many disparate tidbits in this point....  Jan called on the roll of language — first reading Ukranian, the speaking Russian, the difference of the Aunt and the boyfriend who spoke “buttery words” as opposed to the German drilled by the Aunt which later, allowed her to speak in German to the guard.  Bernie’s comment on her surprise — perhaps like the poem, “I forgive” — the amazement was that she could care about her jail guard’s suffering… but then again — and this we did not discuss— is the “shhhh” to herself… don’t say that?   or the unsolvable complexity of being prisoner, given only a bite of food, yet human being knowing the grief of losing a son?

As always, we all appreciated the sharing of our explorations seeking insights.  Thank you all who attended. 

March 23

 Spring was definitely in the air for the March full moon 3/18 called the "Worm" moon.   It is also a time of great unrest and anxiety in the world, and makes me gladder than ever for these thoughtful weekly discussions.

There Will Come Soft Rains  by Sara Teasdale - 1884-193 (Thank you Judith)

COULD YOU EMBRACE THAT?( St. Thomas Aquinas) by Daniel Ladinsky

Amethyst Beads by Eavan Boland - 1944-2020

Every Mourning by Michael Kleber-Diggs

Marina Tsvetaeva  by Ilya Kaminsky

Not Once by Sharon Olds

The session started with quite lively sharings:

from Paul: 

Pact:  no trouble.  they sign.  No nervous cough

peace is  a moment when murder pays off.

 

He provided this from Ralph Waldo Emerson: stand-up comic.

I dream of a better tomorrow

for chickens can cross the road and not be questioned about their motives.

 

from Jim: 

Dust if you must : https://www.ellenbailey.com/poems/ellen_218.htm

https://www.ellenbailey.com/poems/ellen_218.htm

Sara Teasdale:  the poem is highly anthologized; https://www.bartleby.com/103/56.html

Everyone loved the sounds, the evocation of smell,  form where the rhyme flows without notice… As one person put it, a strong message in soft delivery… and how timeless! Looking at her dates, one thinks of her writing about WW1, after the flu pandemic and our current year…

Can you Embrace:I was bad about not putting Ladinsky as poet for the next one, l which got Mary looking up poetry by St. Thomas Aquinas (he did write lots).  That is only the title, which comes from Aquinas indeed.  Ladinsky's book "Love poems from God: 12 sacred voices from the East and West is highly recommended.   As for sides of God we do not expect... it came up that in Deuteronomy  apparently God shows his “back” …  Note the form of the poem as a chalice… The conversation veered to how we deal with horrors, stand up to tyrants, and attitudes towards negatives.   In one of the Hafiz translations by Ladinsky, (more renderings, than sticking to literal meanings) the question also comes out about how we can love even the most terrible thing in any "that".

Eaven Boland:  Kathy brought up her poem, The Pomegranate https://poets.org/poem/pomegranate where the first line mentions the Persephone/Demeter story was the only legend she has ever loved.  

Amethyst, known for its calming effect…and is the zodiac stone for February... ) Zodiac stone for February)

The "old simples" (archaic use to refer to herbs) for Martin provides a clue -- what magic do we need to survive -- promises, compromising, bargains-- what brings us back to light?  When something feels "right" we light up... see the world in a positive light perhaps.

Paul was reminded of Irish myths, Judith of Danish trolls dancing to switch places with children.  

In this different "twist" on the myth, the emphasis is on the mother-- but we know, this "I" is not just 

for Demeter.  It is a hard poem to read... and we were struck by "the well of the throat where tears start."

We also were struck by the repeated end line -- it is not a question. A child... Is it the child, the separated subject from "who will never remember this"?  The bond between mother and child... the ache of separation... and these amethyst beads as reminders, healers...  A good poem resists "explanation"-- and this metaphor of amethyst, "an old stress of crystal" ... "an impression of earthly housekeeping" where

the press of "stress/impress..." will almost rhyme with promise.

Every mourning:  Such a poignant coupling of grief with the quotidien in the title.  One person remarked the predominant feel of pronouns... I... she... I... she... and then the dividing  solo line, "Dear friends, I am the nicest man on earth."  The use of ants as metaphor follows... all kinds: weaver, carpenter, fire ants...

slaves of the pharaoh... and one little black ant, alone, alone.

This desire to belong, to be part of a colony, lighten/the weight of the day...

I highly recommend this documentary about Bryan Stevenson and his work in Alabama to bring  justice into the legal system, prisons.   

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfZPl4CFEUc He has created an amazing Legacy Museum which exposes the horrors of lynching and what it must feel like to be treated as 3/4 human, an innocent pawn thrown not just into jail, but mistreated there, on death row. https://joyofmuseums.com/museums/united-states-of-america/montgomery-alabama-museums/legacy-museum/

The poem is strong... the detail of the first part of his "feet" -- there are two, and they can breathe in the sandals, reinforces the contrast in the second part where he yearns to breathe...  The poem calls for stories... how stones are thrown at a woman walking too close to a synagogue; how a dog will remember treatment associated with a language and tone of voice... 

Marina Tsvetaeva: 

You may have heard Kaminsky's poem, "We lived happily during the war" -- https://slate.com/culture/2022/03/interview-ilya-kaminsky-poet-ukraine.html

I  listened to the Cornell program on 3/24— he ended with a terrific new poem, “I ask that I do not die” — I wish I had a copy! What keen intelligence he applies to powerful lyric.  His poem, Marina Tsvetaeva ( on poets walk) creates a feeling of dream— or perhaps she is creating the poem with him, as his muse.   The metaphor of "gull", (see Chekhov) as soul... coupled with the verb "torn" prepares the link between  soul… and pain.    The final stanza seems to have him genuflect… and we felt the break before the final line made the very window he wants… is he inside the house, looking out? outside looking in?  looking up at the “house” of his poem?   He takes his "human-ness" to see the world.  The poem elicited much discussion including the problem of turn of the century translation of  Akhmatova and Tsvetaeva's work in this time period of transition from czarist to soviet rule.   Of course Tsvetaeva’s life is tragic https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/marina-tsvetaeva… 

It was a coincidence that Jim’s wife knew Ilya, a student at Brighton HS, after immigrating with his family from Odessa. Partially deaf because of a misdiagnosed illness, he has a delightful Russian accent that he invites the audience to adopt to join in his expression of strong emotions, peppered with humor.  

Not Once: We ran out of time in the first group to discuss this.. 

Not once... never once... ... did she feel lucky... and through the chaos of falling in a hospital while tending someone else

we too struggle to understand what is going on.  Not until today -- a double realization: grateful for good fortune ... 

and understanding a certain numbness -- not just about her circumstances but applied to those "struck in her name" (i.e. as American and American war?)... 

Strike is a powerful verb...  to hit: as in deliver a blow; lightening strikes... but so does an awareness of an idea; The strike out...(baseball)  strike out on a trip (set out).  Here, she hits the floor... is struck by it... and reviews her expectations -- 

"as if to be struck by the earth" -- -- floating in space and struck by a wrecking ball?

A gleam of empathy for others struck...

We didn't discuss the  title... but Kathy offered some insight into the poet's life and experiences of  a series of bad strikes.

 

March 16

 A Blessing by James Wright

The Blessing of the Old Woman, the Tulip, and the Dog by Alicia Ostriker

Ode to a Thermostat  by Paul Brennan

Unknown Bird (1999) by W.S. Merwin

Term (1999) by W.S. Merwin

In the Beginning by Anne Pierson Wiese

Advice for Using Blood in a Poem  by Albert Abonado

Some weeks, I feel the poems chosen resonate well for everyone attending, no matter how wide the variations in understanding.  This week, we did not finish the discussion -- only briefly touching on the poem by Anne Pierson Wiese, Judith summarized as "ashcan school-like" and no time to address the implied "art poetic" of the final poem.  It is good to be reminded by Martin that when we read a poem that we don't like, or feels like the poet needn't have bothered to write it, we can ask ourselves, "what is it I have missed?".

The first poem by James Wright is familiar to many in the group, and a beautiful poem which creates a quiet peacefulness in a meeting between two horses and two people, in this case, Wright and his friend, Robert Bly. 

The humor of the Ostriker and Paul's poem offset the sense of struggle in the two Merwin poems which come from his earlier work.  

comments:

The Blessing: 

 In responding to James Wright’s poem, both groups discussed the power of the bond between animals and humans,  and the unplanned effect of witnessing two ponies, their welcome to Wright and his friend, as a beautiful blessing which confirms a sense of “agape”.  A larger theme of what poetry can do, how to receive a poem came up.

How does hearing a poem change it?  When does the sound feel intrusive to a quiet (silent) reading?

Depending on mood, how do we resolve what seems to be a highly subjective projection of the poet?

I love that poems are explorations, and our discussions allow us to delve in to understand them.

Some picked up  on the feel of oxymoron: the horses eyes "darken with kindness"; others felt an antithetical pull with "there is no loneliness like theirs" and yet, the two horses together love each other.  Certainly, Wright plays opposites of light/dark, solitude/union with others, male/female.

The romantic touch of a light breeze, the caress of a soft ear compared to touching the skin of a girl's wrist...  the personification of twilight, the quiet observation of spring, and a sense of trust-- the friends "stepping over barbed wire" and the almost eager reception of the horses, the sense of interconnectivity, indeed prepare the spiritual transcendence of the final line.  Although there is no formal rhyme, the light touch of alliterations, assonance and line breaks, particularly between line 9 and 10 and the last two lines give a special power to an unfolding of happiness.  

Paul was reminded of Patrick Kavanagh's poem: "Plough Horses" (Their glossy flanks and manes outshone/ The flying splinters of the sun.) Judith quoted from Papashvily, Anything can happen , "I was happy and full of prance" confirming the association of happiness and energy of horses.  Maura shared the story of Pedro, the burro (donkey) calling out the sheep

in answer to her asking him where they were; other's cited the science behind horses and their ability to demonstrate love of humans.  Indeed in the poem, there is something "completing" about this encounter.

The blessing of...

This poem gave us all a light-hearted laugh!  What is it to be blessed?  I invited participants to add their idea of what it means.  Marna came up with: "To be blessed said the bull, is to have a chat across a fence with your human neighbor".  David's beautiful summary of the three stanzas:

"the  analogy of organic process of milk transformed to God's love running through;  dynamite eroticism of the tulip;  dog's groove on scent".  

 The earthy sounds, of "slug of lust, up-ended",  are sandwiched by God in the first and third stanza. Who would not delight in this trilogy of blessings?! 

I add for myself, the following,  feeling the strength of our "poetry family" that comes together each week. 

To be blessed

said the moderator

is to live and work hard,

knowing there will be no end

of reading and choices,

and trusting that

whatever poems are chosen

they will offer their threads

for the needles

of the readers

to embroider!

Two Merwin poems: 

Kathy gave us background of these poems from 1999, and commented on  their difficulty which Merwin later resolves in Shadow of Sirius.  We all commented on the the liberty Merwin allows us as we navigate the lines and lack of punctuation.  

Unknown Bird: Both Jim and Valerie (representatives from in-person and zoom groups) both joined the final stanza with the enjambed "there/it goes again"

tell/no one.  This is tricky territory -- almost a desire to dwell on "another/existence there" 

and "tell" (as opposed to "tell no one").   Mary could hear the sounds of birds... and how birds tell us life is alive!!!The idea of "wild geese" as Irish refugees, leaving the homeland because of religious persecution came up.

We noted the alliterative effect of "dry days, dusty"; the "fluted phrase floating"... the "f" repeating in the final stanza with "foreign, filling ".  Intriguing questions: What do we want to hide? keep secret?  Where is this "somewhere else"? How to navigate two layers of "before" -- one for something new, one for what was...  ?

Term:  whether a literary term, a political term... the etymology of term implies a boundary... Paul kindly provided us a "golden shovel" technique of only final words on the line, to clarify: (my line breaks may need adjusting!).

A word is waiting be remembered

a household word, 

ordinary living considered afterward.

It was the one through circumstances of its own--

the only word that would do.

He mentioned you could try this with just first words as well.

Marna commented on how words change their meaning... how "bad" now is used to mean "cool".. 

David commented on how words become wedded, embedded; how a noun is often unable to shed the attachment of the thing in itself to the word.  Any word balances a fusion of what might seem arbitrary but fixed assignation and sound, with variations of pronunciation and meanings that morph with use.

Judith quoted the ridiculous nature of terms such as "heteronormative" and such in literary criticism.

She reminded us of the fun in 1066 and all that and the exercises -- ex.  "King John had no redeeming features.  Illustrate."

In the beginning:

Far from the biblical overtones, and story of planning gone awry, the two "lumps" of this poem seem to hinge on the enjambed stanza break:  Love displaces // everything. 

Judith brought up the zen koan, " show me your original face -- before you were born".

If you do not know the photographs of Walker Evans (1903-1975) they indeed merit a look. 

March 9

 O, in the Sour Cherry Tree Orchard Ukranien folksong translated by Hélène Turkewiecz-Sanko

My Father, The Astronaut  by Warsan Shire

It Bruises, Too by Kwame Dawes

Egrets by Kevin Young

Time Passes  by Joy Ladin

His poem, After the War went viral: See  https://slate.com/culture/2022/03/interview-ilya-kaminsky-poet-ukraine.html "we lived happily after the war" by Ilya Kaminsky.  His poem  on Poets Walk: Marina Tsvetaeva https://mag.oncell.com/en/poets-walk-she-awakes-as-a-gull-59520.html

Discussion:

We listened to the virtuoso skill of the Nightingale https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdlIbNrki5o

a perfect backdrop for a the love poem...

I interspersed a few thoughts from  5 poems by Kim Stafford about Ukraine: https://www.rattle.com/five-poems-for-ukraine-by-kim-stafford/

Sunflower seeds... just one... can spiral into 1,000 in a halo of gold... Where will you hide it so every seed may declare peace for a survivor's knees at a brother's grave?

Top hit:  You can kill a man.  Someone will make a martyr song.  And it will become an anthem in the streets, theirs, ours... in persons and soon children sing it.  You can kill 1,000s of men, but a song?

two poems by Ida Kiva https://lithub.com/february-get-the-ink-and-weep-contemporary-poetry-from-ukraine/

Both Marna and Judith filled us in about the shifts of borders, shares of language in what is now 

called Ukraine.  Book recommended by Judith: Lost Kingdom by Serhi Plokhy,

It made the first excerpt by Iya Kiva make more sense...

... and when it came my turn to be killed...

btw, Yanukas, are defenders of Sofia -- 

For the second poem, the first group discussed the image of "sewing the mouth shut"... the invisible of

white thread on white fabric (and the "disappeared" in Argentina)... the images are haunting.

What defines identity?  With such a cross-stitching of heritage and history, what is kept, mended? what discarded? what new aspect adopted ?  This poem allows us a more sensitive understanding of the difficulty of a war where people are forced to kill people who look like themselves. 

My Father... This poem appeared in the Atlantic on Sunday 2/27/22, but I am not convinced it was written for the Ukrainian invasion, although the first line seems that way.  Powerful images and extended metaphor.  Why astronaut in the first line, then Black cosmonaut on the 4th?  The spacesuit, which should protect, is slashed... the failure... the forsaken, dead astronaut hurtling through space... his eyes weeping blood... These are unforgettable images that underline the "vast desolate".  The turning of the adjective

into a noun reinforces the sense of a dessert of no opportunity.  It makes sense that Shire, born of Somali parents in Kenya, transported to London should feel Europe as removed as the moon.  One senses the perilous journey fleeing an unstable country.  Angels, who are messengers, have drawn back their wings... the sense of abandonment, hopelessness also confirmed.  Kathy felt there were two directions for the longing that slashes:  on one hand, longing for the home left behind... on the other, a longing for the journey to end...

This young poet is certainly deserving of her recognition as laureate in London.

It Bruises, Too: We don't know what the haunting is... but that stone, heavy in the bowels is indisputably real.  There are so many pronouns... us, we, I, you, back to we, etc.  In a way, I feel removed from the poem, only able to observe a part of a scene-- trying to imagine how silence bruises.   What is the penance to which he refers?  The note about the poem helps place it in the pandemic, and the silence we become used to, the awkwardness of meeting again after two years, after being used to isolation.  We had a sense of the meeting as a chance to break into blossom--  

Why in this crossing does the speaker cross into the gloom of the other and not towards the light?

We mentioned the guilds, from apprentice to journeyman, to master... but a journeyman is also he on a road, peppered with lovely King James language reminiscent of Psalm 23.  

We noted that the way Kwame read it, he gave no space for enjambments but read as an uninterrupted script.  This changes the feel of it. 

Judith felt it was his "letter to the world" -- unlike Dickinson, we are allowed to see it.

Egrets: Is it too clever to parallel birds, profiting from the paths of cows who rustle insects and frogs and the like into ready prey for the egrets, to horses arriving like "regret"... ? We definitely felt the James Wright poem, Blessing, here, the soul bursting into blossom. https://poets.org/poem/blessing

What does epiphany feel like? There is a dark undertone in the cows sensing slaughter... 

an appealing use of clear language, yet elusive.  The Poet starts with observing, rejects birds as source of soul... and an understanding of connection that creates the spark.

Time Passes: We enjoyed the personification of time... and loved that the last 4 lines do not have a subject... it could be time speaking, or the speaker of the poem.  Many of us felt we could substitute ourselves for time.  

Needing the Dragon:  indeed we do! Judith says: "On dragons:  in her book of essays The Wave of the Mind le Guin wrote:  People who deny the existence of dragons are often eaten by dragons.  From within."

We wondered if Ostriker had a series on the Old Woman, and this was one of them.  (The Old Woman, The Tulip and the Dog.)

We were running out of time... but would have wanted to wax philosophical...  What is real?  Has humanism replaced gods?  How do we deal with dragons?  Really as toys?  how as masks?

 Line breaks: 

A woman sits in my armchair and speaks:
We have slain the many gods
they were unreal
the one god in whom we say we believe
is also unbelievable
Humanism keeps the dragon
as a kind of toy
no
as a mask

Pear:  Not a particularly friendly pear tree -- nothing good comes from being so self absorbed!!! 

The details are so outrageous -- and yet we all have a dark side, and recognize it here... and admit...

failure is indeed part of being human... let's try to make better fruit!