Spring Follows Winter Once More, by Tom Hennen; Jamestown, 2019 by Camille Dungy; The Garden, by Camille Dungy; Try to Make Her by Morrow Dowdle; Herb Lore by Mary E. Caragher; The Patience of Ordinary Things by Pat Schneider; Small Kindnesses by Danusha Laméris; This Only by Czeslaw Milosz
Nutshell
Spring Follows: the poem comes from a book Darkness Sticks to everything which title I countered with a link to Spring (Gerard Manley Hopkins version of the "juice and joy" of Spring with his exuberant sprung rhythm: https://poemanalysis.com/gerard-manley-hopkins/spring/) We remarked the first 5 lines, with a downward look, the next two with an upward view. The etymology of "Paradise" is "enclosed garden". The capital P perhaps is to strive for something universal beyond any religious affiliation. Notice it is not to knock on the gates, but rather, the gates opening "just enough" to let out an inkling of what lies within. It is hard not associate this short poem with burial but it is not so much "death and resurection" as eternal cycles of life and the reminders of seasons. The title sums it up, "once more" restoring both hope for sense of possible order and a reminder of how history repeats. The release of a flock of geese provide a welcome unlocking of positive energy.
Camille Dungy: The publisher's website includes a review of her book, America, A Love Story and a sample poem. I highly recommend you read this book. A sample cannot suffice to show how gently she can pierce a heart, but at you will receive more than a hint at her skill.
Jamestown 2019: What has changed in 400 years? The poem paints a memorial not only to the first slaves, but as the title hints, 400 years later, to all black people. It reads like a ballad, a lullaby without punctuation aside from two commas, slowly, slowly, and breathing with multiple em-dashes. The repetition of what rhymes with... followed sometimes by single words (water/empty/crying) or a build-up of words is powerful. Example: 2nd stanza, 2nd line —what rhymes with mothers/ enjambed to waiting, 3rd line repeated, mothers waiting and then in the final stanza, what rhymes with snatch a life and name it /building— this burden— which could be the musical term, or the burden of sorrow... but the poem doesn't end there. nor does the song or the sorrow: The final question, what rhymes with help the mothers love/these babies— the final two lines repeat help, gathering speed in an increasing cresendo almost unbearably overwhelming.
help them help them help them /—help them rocks their stolen babies down.
The Garden: As we know from her book Soil: The Story of a Black Mother's Garden, selected last year as one of "All Rochester Reads" Camille is gardener working both earth and poetry to teach lessons. The metaphors, such as "stakes", as risks, as well as how to plant these wooden supports so things grow, are skillfully handled, as are the enjambments which challenge assumptions: "Some will assure you..." indeed, one would like to be assured that "there is a place on earth/for everyone. I will prove/ them wrong, confirms the slippery nature of language and human behavior. We commented on the use of the word "dirt", wondered at "everything shot through/ with holes" which sounds authentic and not particularly positive. One person wondered if it might not be the garden speaking at the beginning, with the poet reiterating the lessons at the end.
Try to Make Her: Some had read this article about a young woman in India faking snake transformation.The visual formatting is quite snake-like with high suspension. Arriving at "Love exists,/" more than half-way through the poem, it is followed by a lovely confirmation that this young woman found it.
Herb Lore: a thank you to Rick, who introduced us to his Great Aunt, Mary E. Caragher (1890-1963 Bio : born in Lima. Genesee Wesleyan Seminary and Geneseo State Teachers' College, U of R, BS and MA in Engl. moved to Rochester, as HS teacher, and member of Rochester Poetry Society. Poetry, nostalgic memories of childhood and great love of trees, infused with haunting Celtic mysticism. "though 50 generations/willed me faith and reason,/I was a Druid child. Great tolerance and beautiful understanding of the beliefs of others... from Place of Apple Trees; nd Golden Year. in Gleam (anthology of Roch. Poetry Society, 1964
For those who know herbs and references to herbs in literature, here is a delightful poem calling on the "natural" lessons delivered by them and a wise and patient father. Perhaps "lore" in the title pays tribute to acquired knowledge collected.
For the last three poems: I don't think it matters if we call them "a poem" or just the jotting down of thoughts that are worth reading. Perhaps if a poem, the definition is "lines (13-18) worth reading that mirror back something that lifts your spirits, project a larger thought than the words provide.
The Patience of Ordinary Things : a lovely tribute in 14 lines that reminded some of Van Gogh's art transforming honest objects such as a simple chair, or boots, to art. Here, the ordinary becomes imbued with patience, merits the adjective lovely, and generous, and we believe the opening line: it is a kind of love. We noted the title of the book and the press: From The Weight of Love (Negative Capability Press, 2019) Negative Capability, a term coined by Keats allows a thing to develop as it will, and asks us to be patient to see what what arises.
The question of mood came up... how it colors how we see things. If the soap is in a bad mood, it will stick, obviously, and if you are in a hurry, of course "the nylons will insist that you make a run". If you are in the mood for such puns, this book was recommended. https://www.amazon.com/Get-Through-Next-Five-Minutes/dp/1324091630
Small Kindnesses: Listening to Danusha read this poem is a very calming things to do. I love her image, "brief moments of exchange... fleeting temples we make". Mostly, indeed, we don't want to harm each other.
This Only: Whether Milosz wrote this in Polish, translated it himself, or when he wrote it, I do not know. I am just glad to have read it. How do you understand the title? He does not puncutate it, but one meaning might be to separate the words to emphasize, This. What is this? It is presence, physical, or a memory, a feeling, sound and rhythm, and a desire. How to explain this as one precious thing? Seeing as understanding perhaps, without need to peg down in language, expectation, fear, hope. Seeing as letting the world in perhaps... How do you imagine that edge where there is no I or not-I? Thank you Milosz for carrying us beyond whatever our "ordinary" life provides.
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