Last post for 2024 -- with useful links!

 EXTRA LINKS!!!

Jim recommends the Astronomy picture of the day:  to receive it in your inbox:  http://apodemail.appspot.com/

 

 Some of you might know the blog below by Maria Popova -- https://www.themarginalian.org/newsletter/

Jan brought up Popova's extraordinary book of illustrated essays, The Universe in Verse.  Maria Popova, presents "a celebration of the human search for truth and beauty through the lenses of science and poetry." Each of the 15 essays is followed by a poem.  https://www.amazon.com/Universe-Verse-Portals-through-Science/dp/1635868831

 

You might enjoy her list of "best books" -- with tastes to sample of some of her favorite books...

https://www.themarginalian.org/2024/12/17/best-books-2024/?mc_cid=73985a9ea1&mc_eid=2e713bf367   Well worth spending at least half an hour to see the rich feast available that "fathoms"  life and celebrates the bond we feel with the joy of reading as a means to "deepen our way of living".

 

Emily shares this quote from Kurt Vonnegut

There is love enough in this world for everybody, if people will just look. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake.

 

 

 

Dec. 18

  

A Journey  by Nikki Giovanni; Telescope by Louise Glück; The Work of Happiness  by May Sarton; The Moon Burgled the House by Elizabeth Bishop;  In a Grain of Sand by Jesús Papoleto Meléndez

It is hard to believe that the year is coming to a close... Poetry has guided us through 50 weeks of discussions, prompted by poems-- providing us with consolations, ruminations, words which dig deep into layers seen, felt, sensed by experiences.  Hearing each other respond in multiple ways to just one poem magnifies the power of words to help us sort out our desire to find pattern, meaning.  What a gift as we listen and ponder, note, and marvel at the crafting of words, at their music, their arrangement on the page,

as they meet the task of rendering something universal about being to the particulars of a slice of life!

The first poem, is a tribute to Nikki Giovanni, (1943-2024):

A Journey.   The title is not, The Journey, or Journey, but A Journey which could mean just one of many, but quickly rectified by the repeat, "It's a journey . . .", as if to imply a way to label how to go about living.  Rose Marie commented on Giovanni's style, broken with suspension points and large spaces, which  marked exactly how she spoke in an interview with Krista Tippett in 2016.  

One could make suppositions about her style reflecting something about "searching for words", or perhaps giving space to the poem to go to work without her interference,  perhaps she is not sure of herself, but wants to share her search for words, or perhaps, she imagines the reader, and wants to involve us, invite us to take time to go from one fragment to the next, supplying our own details. She does not impose any proposal, does not specify if this is a journey from life to death, or a general description of going through life, which accentuates the idea of a journey which by definition, is a process which may or may not reach any goal, or  have a purpose in the first place.

Neil was reminded of the John Fowles novel, The Magus  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Magus_(novel) which in turn, sounds like one of the three Magi, and their reputed journey to follow the Star of Bethlehem.  

The poet indeed, may not assume the role of guide,  but a fellow passenger, and yet says she is Ra, the all-knowing Egyptian Sun God,  in a space "not to be invented but discovered".  This sounds otherworldly.  She reassures us, provides the adjective exhuberant to describe "autumn's quilt", tells us we are in charge of our own guide posts and shows her courage.  Does she make you curious  to embark on such a journey?  

The poem is enigmatic, intriguing, and one senses she is about to leap into the void-- and eager to do so.

I just heard the 4th annual session "Reading Rilke" held at the Poets Corner in Maine, with guests Krista Tippett, Padraig O'Túama and Mark Burrows. https://www.thepoetscorner.org/events/reading-rilke-today?ss_source=sscampaigns&ss_campaign_id=6759a96c4ffaad2b3280a8f7&ss_email_id=675eef262d3b4836ead2f005&ss_campaign_name=Join+us+for+First+Light+in+2025&ss_campaign_sent_date=2024-12-15T15%3A01%3A23Z  (fast-forward several minutes for a long introduction about the Poets Corner by Meg Weston.  You might enjoy hearing Padraig read some of Rilke's fragments which share the same quality of this poem "A Journey".  None of us really know what "being" is...  

Telescope:   Louise Glück: 1943—2023, deserves a long introduction.  We agreed that the crux of the poem is about relationship, since how we see things is constantly in flux.  A poet can make statements, for instance in the 2nd stanza, "you're in a different place/... where human life has no meaning" which sound like assumptions that may or may not be true.  Jim challenged her statement in the 3rd stanza, that stars should be coupled with the word, "stillness" and shared the Astronomy Picture of the Day: https://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ (The Crab Nebula shown on 12/18 might look still, but the universe is a violent place filled with exploding stars, swirling gasses and dust.) This brought up Arthur Clark's short story, "The Star" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Star_(Clarke_short_story)... which in turn brought up the fact that what we see in the sky is actually 40 billion years ago... and how do we start to even comprehend light years??? Looking at the last stanza, there is no mention of interconnection we so highly prize and mention about life on earth but rather a chilling sense of how removed "each thing is from every other thing".  Claudia brought up how how the poem moved from visual to an auditory plane of the silence of the night sky.  Later, in discussion of "In a Grain of Sand" , we discussed at length how poetry can work "visual" arrangements, how to interpret them which in turn brought up comments about jazz, and how differently "improvisation" can sound depending on who's working the tune.  (Oscar Peterson vs. Count Basie for instance, who "leaves out notes in the right place.").

This blogger gives a far more detailed discussion of the poem! https://hungerforpoetry.blogspot.com/2013/03/telescope-by-louise-gluck.html

Then again, you could spend a few days reading many more such reviews!!!!  How do we balance what seems to be a cold, distant universe with our own inner world focussed on ourselves?

The Work of Happiness: this poem brought up many stories about May Sarton, her biography by Margo Peters https://www.amazon.com/May-Sarton-Biography-Margot-Peters/dp/0449907988  and the fact that two people in the group had met her, Kathleen visited her house.  What is happiness?  What is the work of happiness and how does it work?  Sarton weaves a beautiful metaphor where the bottom line seems to be that happiness is growth and a sense of peace each of us find in our own way.  The discussion touched on the comfort of familiar objects,  and ways we relate to things perhaps as treasured hierlooms, perhaps as possession to show off.  Back to discussion of relationship (as in the poem, Telescope): some were surprised that in the poem, there is no mention of a person.  This led to the idea of home and what happens when it is taken away, whether through violence of bombing, disappearance, or when ousted from it for whatever reason.  One illustration was the mention of the 1996  movie "Twister" (and 2024 sequel Twisters.)  

I couldn't write down all the comments fast enough, but a recurring comment was an agreement that Sarton does not TELL us what happiness or its work is but rather through her meditation about it, allows us to think of what it might be for us individually. 

Moon Burgled: Bishop's dates are (February 8, 1911 – October 6, 1979), so I am curious why her poem was in the January 23, 2006 New Yorker!  

The poem was read and promptly dismissed. 

Paul's comment: (Jan. 10, 2025)     I was not present for the apparent disdain of Moon Burgled by the O  pen society. I Iiked it as a thought provoker, although the theme is fairly worn. I don't know why , but these thoughts were where it brought me.

    If she moved as a traveler, literally and metaphorically, through waves of emotion, as some critics would charge, then Moon Burgled is a dream drifting through the deathly demise of humanity, and to my thoughts of her thoughts, something quite different from what I have read of her other poems. 

    This sad, dark dream is a robust interpretation of what is coming, It has for her come and completed itself. It is the end of the world. Humanity dies gently and with a sigh of relief. She was timely ahead of time

In a grain of Sand:  The poet explains the visual style as "cascadance" -- more dance than cadence with the visual cascade of words as a flow of consciousness on a canvas.  Many referred to examples of performance, sign language, and how a playful style of repeated words, reversed, inversed, lends to level of acting that heightens the power of the words.  The Body is involved with the poem.  Judith brought up the visual power of negative space for an artist,  and Martha Graham's choreography.  She recommended seeing The Moor's Pavane -- Shakespeare's Othello set to choreography by José Limon: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Moor%27s_Pavane but with the caveat, not all performances are equal. 

December 11

 Features of the Modern Age  by Ashley Steineger; Permission Granted by David Allen Sullivan; Southbound On The Freeway; Louder by Eric Nelson (inspired by The House on the Hill by E. A. Robinson); Relic  by Jennifer Foerster; That’s My Heart Right There  by Willie Perdomo;  If I can stop one heart from breaking -- by Emily Dickinson

It is Friday night, the day after Santa Lucia, a beautiful holiday that celebrates light. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Lucy%27s_Day  I was reminded of it by my friend from Sweden who was an exchange student in my senior year in High School. She and I had a long WhatsApp talk.   This has been a week of many such beautiful connections, including a poem shared with me this morning by a very special older friend.  

"When Will You Be Back?"

A poetry prayer for the 2d Week of Advent

Yesterday I visited an old man in the hospital.

I was not the only one. We talked on the elevator ride down—

Has he gained any weight? Will he stay in that room?

Does he like the food? Has he called?

All the man wanted to know was, When will you be back?

We ask that question in a thousand different ways

every single day,

our hearts leaning over themselves, bending to get closer to love.

We say, Text me when you're home.

Call me when you're free.

One more kiss!

I love you all the time.

When will you be back?

What we really mean is

I can't go through life alone.

Please don't let me go through life alone.

Poem by Rev. Sarah A. Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC / sanctifiedart.org

This is what poems allow us... they hold our hands, or perhaps irritate us, baffle us, but it is another person behind them who is sharing.  Last night, as featured reader, I listened to the 30 odd voices along with the poems by the other featured reader.  Such a rich sharing.  I haven't had time to process all I heard...

I know I will miss the two weeks when O pen does not gather in person.  

First things first... the write up of the discussion of the poems Wednesday then send out of Dec. 18 poems.  

Nutshell:

Features of the Modern Age:  The poetess is a holistic psychologist and joins many fine environmental poets in looking at our current state of affairs and writing with honesty to touch people so they indeed are shaken out of complacency. Indeed guilt and blame sabotage and are not helpful. It serves no purpose to go back 70-80 years and cry out Rachel Carson warned us with her book Silent Spring, just as it serves no purpose to cry out warnings to leaders who insist on wars.  I'm not sure who offered these words which sound like a blues song:    "Riven with negatives, we can still sing little songs as we face great sorrows."   Judith brought up Alvin Ailey's ballet Cry  https://ailey.org/repertory/cry composed in 1971.  

In response to the third couplet, (the invention of a word for the painful loss of dark skies, noctaglia),

Neil brought up light pollution and the example of the light dome in Phoenix.  In his words: "Phoenix, the tenth largest US city with a greater metropolitan population of over 5 million is typical of other huge dense urban sprawls with its large polluting light dome of nighttime luminance that obscures the night sky. The famous Kitt Observatory, over 150 miles away in the desert to the SW has to carefully adjust their scopes to avoid these light pollution flares.

Tucson, a city of about a million residents, is only 50 miles away from Kitt, but since Tucson has strict light pollution laws that prohibit light sources directed towards the sky, it does not represent the same type of night light pollution that Phoenix represents."

People shared insights on astrology and the vocabulary in the poem referring to astronomy, such as retrograde.  https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/retrograde   This prompted quite a few references to Science Fiction, for example people live without sun, but know one day it will appear and they will be totally destroyed. I believe this might be it? https://medium.com/@digital.artistry.10/the-lost-sun-a-short-story-5483f7e84d0c

As for the poem itself, the title might provide insight to the mention of what is disappearing, but it is connected to the personal theme of our own death, and the unsettling thought that one will not be able to see the familiar constellation of Orion with those three distinctive bright stars for his belt where the mother pointed -- as reassurance, "when I die, that's how you'll find me."

(The myths and importance of Orion are fascinating: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orion%27s_Belt)

It is unsettling to think the night sky will become a foreign text... the stars untranslatable words.  It might be a depressing note on which to end, but points to the limitations of our understanding and ability to guide ourselves in "blinding dark". However, it also does no good to keep our heads in the sand, or stop trying to understand our constantly changing universe.  Perhaps the old system of beliefs needs drastic revision. 

Permission Granted might beg the question: "why is it necessary and by whom is it given".  Clever and by the 5th stanza one arrives at the crux of the matter:  "Each beat of the world's pulse demands /only that you feel it."  The poet uses the technique of coupling unusual adjectives and juxtapositions, such as "See the homeless woman following/ (note the enjambment... the following is interrupted) the tunings of a dead composer?  There is a hopeful note of "following her down, (enjambment, this time as suspension enhanced by a comma) inside, ( the commas contain the space of line break and the word inside-- which gives a sense of vastness), where the singing resides. 

Bernie remarked how it reminded him of Mary Oliver, Wild Geese https://www.poetry.com/poem/123017/wild-geese

Participants noted the personal self-help advice in the 5th stanza... free from the shackles of guilt and the news.

Eddie commented how the poem seemed to be written bty someone distant from his/her family who has found peace within himself. 

Southbound on the Freeway:  was to provide a sequel to the poem last about the automated cars.  Here, there is a feel of a sci-fi premise and the human characteristics quite apparent.  One person remarked how enjoyable it is to read poems which seem to say one thing, but actually say another as well.  This is such a poem.  Discussion brought up more Sci Fi, Sinclair Lewis and the worship of the family automobile.

I first read this poem in 1963 -- it was fun to re-read it so many years later, actually, unsettling to see how accurately Swenson captured humans as soft, brainless guts whose machines drive them!

Louder:  I placed this side by side with the Robinson villanelle with its refrain "Nothing more to say" which haunted Eric Nelson. The haunting refrain of not being able to tell what is said, the imminence of death, the sense of being an outside all weave through.

Relic:  A Native American perspective on America, in a dream, which counters the myth "everyone can live their dream".

It helps to know more about the poetess: https://www.jenniferfoerster.com/ 

I believe it was Paul who started the song, As I was going up the stair, I met a man who wasn't there..."  and Judith brought up Bartleby and his refrain, "I prefer not to"... https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bartleby,_the_Scrivener

That's my heart right there:  Elaine and I performed this as a duet... Blues gets to the point... and the repetition "right there" and rhymes with heart paint the power of love.

If I can stop one heart from breaking seemed to be the perfect antidote! 

December 4

 blake; Nálí, Her Solo  by Laura Tohe; Why Wouldn’t Autonomous Cars Cry at Night?  by Ryan McCarty; The Early Bird by Ted Kooser; Grading Rubric by Antonio de Jesús López; Two poems by M.J. Iuppa: https://thewildword.com/poetry-summer-mj-iuppa/ : God’s Eye View; Waiting for Nothing

Paul's comment:     "A Philosopher's overload, I'd say......McCarty's used cars, autonomously confused, rambling around over MJI's , "God's Eye View". Oh, the things that precurse the final understanding...."

  In the discussion, it came up how helpful it is often to know something about the poet. I always appreciate those who research the poets and add their background as further fodder for discussion!  For instance, knowing Antonio de Jesus Lopez is an activist and his poetry in his book Gentefication  addresses in the undertone of Gente, Spanish not just for "people", but a group, folk, dwellers... so not the usual gentry of "those who've made it" but specifically Latinidad success stories, and a whole system of "tokenizing" and survivor's guilt for those receiving scholarships and succeeding.  

 For those who are not familiar with Lucille Clifton, an important voice for 20th century, I hope you will read more of her work.  Clifton did not use capitals by choice, to challenge convention perhaps.  In a discussion of her poem, "won't you celebrate with me" the lowercase "i" in particular is perhaps a footnote to the challenges she faced  as an independent, confident Black woman.https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/69412/lucille-clifton-wont-you-celebrate-with-me 

Perhaps like me, you never had heard the name Laura Tohe.  You might be surprised to find out she is poet laureate of the Navajo Nation for 2015–2019, ( and Native American author and poet). She is a professor emerita of English at Arizona State University.  You might also enjoy finding out about Ryan McCarty, PhD, who teaches at University of Michigan, https://lsa.umich.edu/english/people/faculty/ryanmcca0.html.  

We are so fortunate to have such a variety of voices available in contemporary poetry!  I express my gratitude to all the journals, chance encounters and regular sources I consult -- and to all who offer suggestions!

NUTSHELL OF DISCUSSION

Blake: The title is the first word of the poem, and immediately one wonders if there is a specific reference to a poem by  William Blake, (1757-1827).  Polly puzzled if perhaps there were some relationship to Tiger Tiger burning bright, and Marna puzzled if perhaps there was reference to Blake's bird poem https://www.poetry.com/poem/39149/the-birds .  Jan mentioned Blake is a visionary poet which flavors this poem as well.  The once-mentioned "birds" is a way to connect writing (quill pens) and soul (angels) to address the hunger to create something.   It could be that Clifton is attracted to Blake's ability to be simple and direct.  Perhaps she has chosen "Blake" as the name of a fictitious black boy to express the difficulty of surviving racial exclusions, as well as  her acknowledgement of the fellow poet, who was not recognized as important in his lifetime, as she  searches to create her own poem.   

This beautifully crafted 11 line poem is replete with rhyme, slant rhyme, skillful enjambment, but also the  delay technique inverting the syntax so "they" is only revealed on the third line as angels, and the flight of words combining need, hunger the power of language to deliver hope and a sort of reckoning with who we have become.   The humility of asking for just one poem combines and contrasts with  sense of urgency  to deliver grace, knowing poems don't just fall out of trees.  It takes a visionary to find those angels ready to scribe. 

Nali: Like Lucille, Laura does not use capitals, but here, the title does not run into the first line.  The poet explains in the note that when her grandmother was creating something beautiful, whether the weaving or the notes rising, it was "like she was doing a solo".  This is a beautiful portrait that moves out of the poem, like music, as the Grandmother works her loom, her voicing of stories, patterns of stars and storm.  

The line describing the grandmother as  "storyteller and mathematician" prompted Neil  to draw a parallel with his interview with  the founder of the TED talks, Richard Saul Wurman, who observed the powerful convergence among three fields: technology, entertainment and design.  (He is also the author of a number of innovative books (several in my library), including "Information Anxiety" & an extremely clever ahead of their times travel tour books series under his "Access" rubric. Actually I think he may have used similar heuristics in assisting in revamping the San Francisco Yellow Pages. See the following reference...https://pages.gseis.ucla.edu/faculty/agre/access.html)

Why Wouldn't Autonomous Cars...  As Paul pointed out, the first four letters of autonomous are shared with automobile.  We enjoyed the rich alliteration and cleverness of the conceit addressing our loneliness and emptiness.  The ending is a sad but accurate sign of the times.   Perhaps cars indeed live in a parallel universe and need to cope with their vulnerabilities as we do. One person remarked  how complete an antithesis this poem is to the Laura Tohe one.  What are we caught in here?  We need to go back to the loom! 

On the brighter side, we enjoyed sharing names we've given our cars... and Mary remarked on the fun of going to a car show, where indeed, you feel the personalities and fashions of each vehicle!

The Early Bird:  Paul mentioned the couplet form invites a "mix and match" of possibilities, but however you combine the lines, Kooser works sound and story... the "wooden-pulley" notes of the early bird... the "bucket of dawn".  I like that part of the "work" given to the early bird is to "let us drink" from this heavy bucket its notes help draw up.  There was a little ambiguity about the final "drink", perhaps an implied celebratory beverage... or simply rainwater, or metaphorical refreshment of dawn.  Then again,  "letting us drink" could mean  those drinking (he doesn't specify what)  don't have to bother with singing up the dawn.

Grading Rubric:  How do you weight trauma?  Comedians know how to balance cleverness and pain, which this satire does brilliantly.  Many played with the math... For the first category, "Formal Essay"  it is variable:  if you pick 55%, and include "In-Class" and "Participation", it makes 100%.  Then again, if the Formal Essay is 65%, to make 100%, you need to eliminate "Participation".  There is no variable either way in the participation category.  

It is clear the student is finding ways to defend him/herself "In Class".  Pun on class as well.  All of the rubrics are diminishing to the immigrant child.

Poems by MJ Iuppa:  All three end with a slant reference to her battle with cancer.  The rhythms, alliterations, sounds combine with keen observation.  Seeing not only what is in front of her, but in the future in God's Eye View spells out what we tend to avoid talking about -- or simply don't want to see.  The thick pewter clouds set the tone.

The title, Waiting for Nothing could be understood as not needing to wait for anything... or uselessness of waiting, or not to count on expectations, which the poem confirms.  The slowness and stillness, the implied snail with its "silver signature" contrast sharply with the sudden rain.  Her humility is generous and invites us to adopt her mindset.  Who is anyone to say anything is over?  This is not the same as don't give up, or keep up the courage.  Life, death, and mystery of life continuing.

Turkey Tail: apparently reputed to have a curative effect on cancer.  But so is admiring the beauty of this beautiful mushroom exquisitely described.  

As Mary Oliver says, "to pay attention -- that is our endless and proper work." MJ echoes this, urging us to look closely.  One day we won't be able to.