The Problem with Gratitude by Abby Murray; Flying Over West Texas by Billy Collins; Speaking Tree by Joy Harjo; Spirit Horse Voyagers by J. Paul Brennan; Prodigy by Charles Simic
To quote the Slow-Down, the "we" in question is the group of of people who come together over almost 18 years where, once a week, "we take a breath together and look closely at this world – its beauty, its aches, its small, shining moments, even in uncertain times" as we read aloud mostly contemporary poems and discuss how they touch us.
No, trees cannot "walk" in the conventional sense, but the walking palm (Socratea exorrhiza) is a species whose unique stilt-like roots give the appearance of movement
The Problem with Gratitude. I received this poem the day after Thanksgiving this year. Then, two days later it was published by Rattle Magazine where Poet Abby Murray explains: “I wanted to write about the weirdness of Thanksgiving: the debunked myth of mutual care between European colonizers and Indians, juxtaposed with the practice of setting aside one Thursday in November to be grateful (rather than making radical gratitude a year-long perspective). I wanted to wrestle with the conflict between violent history and nonviolent morals, hollow performance and genuine feeling. What I ended up creating is this portrait of thankfulness as an individual I may love and want to keep close, even if I am constantly failing it, then finding it again, like the imperfect self-parent that I am.”
In these times, I feel poetry can help us focus on the power of meanings behind the use of our words, slow down the fast-paced news headlines, the spewing of words attached to contradictory facts and actions. We find problems especially when we have expectations perhaps. The word gratitude has a special place in the over-use department where so many would be hard-pressed to be grateful for the struggles they face. How, I wonder, can I feel grateful when I see the consequences of irrational, cruel and destructive behavior of world leaders?
In our discussion, we admired how one word, Gratitude, took us into the world, holding both heart and mind. We agreed that gratitude is best when it arrives unbidden, and feels like an unexpected blessing. In 25 short lines, the poem provides a sketch of Gratitude as a young child, perhaps stubborn, with a touch of rebellion, a power to transform, as we notice things as fundamental as a heartbeat, a glass of water, seasons. We picked up on the vulnerability of Gratitude as well as its insistence on being independent of someone else's expectations. The two adjectives inconspicuous (as a heartbeat) /insistent (as a sob), underline how we often miss what we could be grateful for, and upon realizing it, feel a sense of regret. Some thought of attitudes of the Indigenous people facing European colonizers -- not knowing when being lied to, or knowing how to be refused.
I'm not sure if one person recommended this book in the context of Gratitude, or the next poem: https://www.amazon.com/Year-Live-This-Were-Your/dp/0609801945
Flying Over West Texas... We wonder at Billy Collins' ability to cast a spell on us -- his wry humor that is so tender, able to delivers a gentle poke at people without putting them down. Neil cited an Ed Hirsch article that calls Collins the "metaphysical poet with a funny bone". He reveals the same sort of vulnerability as Gratitude in the poem above. The poem does not ever directly reference the name Jesus, but only skirts religion with a neutral mention of "Christmas" which could be Christmas day or season. The question came up whether appreciation of the poem might be limited to only Christian audiences. Well, Buddhist, Jewish, Agnostic people present said absolutely not, even if you don't understand each of the contextual clues, it is clear what Collins is doing. Perhaps Evangelical Christians might even take offense. The parallel between the parched Little Town of Bethlehem and the desolate details of W. Texas plumped up with "waffle-iron grid of streets", a ruler-line running through the anonymous cluster of houses and barns, is the birth of hope and desire for "small miracles". The mundane with the sacred continues with the incongruous shake out of a cigarette from the pack for a stranger, for a contemporary version of a miracle. From there, a turn to a subtle message of anti-idolatry. The final stanza returns us to the everyday gesture of flowers propped up by a grave.
This brought up the story of the flowers one can see by the train tracks of a tragic accident over 20 years ago. "Better to fly over .. with nothing/but the hope that someone visit the grave. His is never capitalized, nor Her. Billy delivers a universal message that flies beyond a single religion.
I like Graeme's summary: his inimitable brilliance in turning evocative and compelling observations into beautiful philosophy, recognizing the common woman and even man.
We skipped III by James Joyce, as Paul brought in a poem that related to the next one, Speaking Tree.
Indeed, we could have spent the rest of the afternoon discussing trees, the ones that "walk", the tree savers, the importance of trees, the sense of physical hurt when one is cut down... literature about trees, such as Cherry Wilder's Trilogy, and the Talking Tree, or Tolkein literature, and seed stoing. We also could have discussed at length Indigenous customs and respect for Trees, animals as spirit guides. I had given a reference to another short poem by an anonymous Sioux/Chippewa translated by Frances Densmore in 1917 of the Dream of Buffalo announcing its appearance.
Joy Harjo insinuates her native culture, and surrounds the reader with all five senses, and whether male or female, my guess is that she touches something primal in each reader receptive to a deep heartache at the thought of our endangered land which supports life. Without needing to spell out facts, or point fingers of blame, she moves to italics, which accentuates the dreamlike form of the spirit. Last word, first line, unspeakable, then a geneology of the broken... followed by two images of aloneness: A shy wind threading leaves after a massacre,//the smell of coffee and no one there. The final word undrinkable is preceded by the imagination of these speaking trees all together, drinking it deep. Perhaps this is the counterbalance. The trees show us the way.
To understand more, consider reading her 2015 volume "Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings" which explores transitions, transformations, and the power of ceremonies in times of change.
Paul's Poem:
Spirit Horse Voyagers
Fish dance at sunrise
In the sacred waters
Of the buffalo moon,
A solemn vision
Of spirit horses,
Dancing feathers of the wind.
Young and slow,
The maiden of the lake
A texture of the virgin,
Wakan Tanka[1]'s gift
To the vision seekers.
—J. Paul Brennan
Paul suggested that the title be considered as three separate entities...
Prodigy: A perfect metaphor for what happens to us as pieces of a greater game.
Astronomy... math that provides elegant explanations, pure and useful.
Paint chipped off black pieces: Victor Emmanuel in the 2nd WW.
Men hung from telephone poles. Mussolini, his girlfriend, collaborators....
Blindfold... whether those in power, or the Masters of Chess... those without regard for humanity, and those who understand the complex beauty of the game. Only a prodigy with his/her surprising brilliance can understand how to play blindfold, several boards at a time.
Graeme sums up the poem succinctly: meticulous observation meets touching anecdote.
[1] Wakan Tanka: It is a central concept in Lakota spirituality, meaning the Great Spirit or Great Mystery, representing the sacred power that encompasses all creation. It is the universal life force and the interconnectedness of all things, which is both a single entity and a council of spiritual powers
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