If you are a cowboy, and this is January, you’re listening to poetry in Elko

January 28, 2012

Cowboy poets, cowboy poetry, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott and Baxter Black!  Do you need any more reasons to head to Elko, Nevada, next weekend?

English: Panorama showing Elko, Nevada - Jaros...

Panorama of scenic, Great Basin town Elko, Nevada. Photos by Jaroslaw Binczarowski, image via Wikipedia

I get e-mail that makes me wish I were wealthy enough to travel next weekend:

For Immediate Release, January 28, 2012
Contact: Darcy Minter, 775.340.4240, dminter@westernfolklife.org

Southwest Ranch Country Exhibition Opens at the 28th National Cowboy Poetry Gathering

Exhibit Features Photography of Kurt Markus and Jay Dusard

Elko, Nevada—Opening in the Western Folklife Center’s Wiegand Gallery during the 28th National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, the exhibition Southwest Ranch Country sheds light on the material and visual landscape of America’s ranching Southwest. The artistry of the region is represented through the vivid photography of Kurt Markus and Jay Dusard, and handcrafted gear of some of the region’s master craftsmen. On display January 24 – September 8, 2012, the exhibition’s opening reception is Friday, February 3, from 3:15 to 5:30 pm. During the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, February 2-4, the gallery will feature slide shows and gallery tours by Jay Dusard and Arizona cowboy poet Ross Knox, and leatherwork demonstrations by master saddlemakers Don Butler, Bob Park and Andy Stevens.

For this exhibition, photographer Kurt Markus, of Kalispell, Montana, has selected some of his favorite images from visits to ranches in the American Southwest. These western photographs capture lives of tedium, isolation and communal living among majestic sweeping landscapes, and demonstrate Markus’ poetic sensibility combined with his realistic approach to image-making. His work cuts across many genres and he has exhibited and published widely, in this country and abroad. His books include After Barbed Wire, Buckaroo, Boxers, and Cowpuncher.This is the first time that Markus’ Southwest Cowpuncher photographs have been printed for exhibition.

Jay Dusard, of Douglas, Arizona, has meticulously photographed the landscape of the American West for 45 years, and has punched cows, off and on, for over 50 years. For this exhibition, the Western Folklife Center features his monumental-size portraits of working cowboys of the American Southwest. Jay still shoots large format film, and the resulting images have resulted in award-winning exhibitions and extensive publication, including his acclaimed first book, The North American Cowboy: A Portrait. During the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, Jay will present slide shows and stories from his ongoing and extensive work in the rural West.

The renaissance of ranch-related craftsmanship is alive and well in the American Southwest, with these artists putting their unique stamp on an ever-evolving style. In addition to the photography of Markus and Dusard, this exhibition brings together some of the finest Southwest artists and the work they enjoy doing as either occupation or sideline.

  • Keith Basso, Rawhide Braider, Heber, Arizona
  • Jay Begay, Jr., Navajo Weaver, Tuba City, Arizona
  • Scott Brown, Saddlemaker & Violinmaker, Salt Lake City, Utah via Texas
  • Bobby Burns, Saddlemaker, Clayton, New Mexico
  • Dawson Byrne, Bootmaker & Leatherworker, Wickenburg, Arizona
  • Robert Campbell, Bit & Spurmaker, Amarillo, Texas
  • Wilson W. Capron, Bit and Spurmaker, Midland, Texas
  • Leland Hensley, Rawhide Braider, Meridian, Texas
  • Jay T. Hudson, Leatherworker and Silverworker, Hobbs, New Mexico
  • Gene Klein, Silversmith, Miami, New Mexico
  • Buddy Knight, Blacksmith & Silverworker, Marfa, Texas
  • Jerry Lansing, Navajo Weaver, Shiprock, New Mexico
  • George & Kelly Martin, Leatherworkers & Bootmakers, Animas, New Mexico
  • Sarah Natani, Navajo Artist, Window Rock, Arizona
  • Scott Farrell/O’Farrell Hat Company, Hatmaker, Santa Fe, New Mexico
  • Bob Park, Leatherworker, Phoenix, Arizona
  • Keith “Pee Wee” Peebles, Silversmith, Marathon, Texas
  • James Redman, Bootmaker, Mertzon, Texas
  • Alfred R. Reynolds, Master Bootmaker, Wickenburg, Arizona
  • Tom Paul Schneider, Silverworker, Pearce, Arizona
  • Bud Shaul, Leatherworker, Yarnell, Arizona
  • Edith Simonsen, Navajo Weaver, Window Rock, Arizona
  • Rachel Simmons, Leatherworker, Chino Valley, Arizona
  • Baru Spiller, Silverworker, Wingate, Texas
  • Dew Westover, Bootmaker, Vernon, Texas
  • Stewart Williamson, Silverworker & Bit & Spurmaker, Portales, New Mexico

Southwest Ranch Country is presented with support from the Nevada Arts Council and Margaret T. Morris Foundation. Photographs available upon request.

The National Cowboy Poetry Gathering is the nation’s greatest celebration of the American West, its people, culture and traditions. The 28th Gathering will take place January 30 to February 4, 2012, in Elko, Nevada. Every January for the last 27 years, cowboys, ranchers, rural and urban people have traveled en masse to the small community of Elko, to join with friends, family and all those who share their love of rural life in the West. Together, they listen to poetry and music, learn about cowboy culture in the U.S. and around the world, experience great art, watch western films, learn a craft, and gather together to eat, drink and swap stories. Programs at the 28th Gathering will focus on the southwestern United States, specifically Arizona and New Mexico—which are celebrating their centennials this year. In addition to the Southwest Ranch Country exhibition, the Gathering will present poets and musicians from the region, as well as workshops and panel discussions focused on regional food, culture and agriculture.

The Western Folklife Center, a regional nonprofit organization, produces the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering. Visit the www.westernfolklife.org for more information about the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering and the Southwest Ranch Country exhibition. Tickets to the 28th National Cowboy Poetry Gathering can be purchased at http://www.westernfolklife.org, by calling 775-738-7508, toll-free 888-880-5885, or by stopping in to the Western Folklife Center’s ticket office, 501 Railroad Street, Elko.

The mission of the Western Folklife Center is to enhance the vitality of American life through the experience, understanding, and appreciation of the diverse cultural heritage of the American West.

***

28th National Cowboy Poetry Gathering Performers

Ramblin' Jack Elliott by Charlie Ekburg, Sweetlight Photography, Elko, NV.

Ramblin' Jack Elliott by Charlie Ekburg, Sweetlight Photography, Elko

Mike Beck & the Bohemian Saints, Monterey, California
Baxter Black, Benson, Arizona
Dave Bourne, Agoura Hills, California
Jerry Brooks, Sevier, Utah
Clarence Carnal, Grand Junction, Colorado
Ken Cook, Martin, South Dakota
Doris Daley, Turner Valley, Alberta, Canada
Stephanie Davis, Columbus, Montana
John Dofflemyer, Lemon Cove, California
Ramblin’ Jack Elliott, Northern California
Rolf Flake, Gilbert, Arizona
Dick Gibford, New Cuyama, California
The Gillette Brothers, Crockett, Texas
Skip Gorman, Connie Dover & the Waddie Pals, Wyoming
DW Groethe, Bainville, Montana
Amy Hale Auker, Prescott, Arizona
R.W. Hampton, Cimarron, New Mexico
Carol Heuchan, Cooranbong, New South Wales, Australia
Yvonne Hollenbeck, Clearfield, South Dakota
Hot Club of Cowtown, Austin, Texas
Jess Howard, Wibaux, Montana
Tim Hus & The Rocky Mountain Two, Calgary, Alberta, Canada
Ross Knox, Benson, Arizona
Marley’s Ghost, Mill Valley, California
Michael Martin Murphey & The Rio Grande Band featuring Pat Flynn, Pueblo, Colorado
Wally McRae, Forsyth, Montana
Waddie Mitchell, Twin Bridges, Nevada
Andy Nelson, Pinedale, Wyoming
Joel Nelson, Alpine, Texas
Rodney Nelson, Almont, North Dakota
Glenn Ohrlin, Mountain View, Arkansas
Vess Quinlan, San Acacio, Colorado
Henry Real Bird, Garryowen, Montana
Pat Richardson, Merced, California
Randy Rieman, Dillon, Montana
Ronstadt Generations, Tucson, Arizona
Martha Scanlan, Birney, Montana
Georgie Sicking, Kaycee, Wyoming
Sourdough Slim, Paradise, California
R.P. Smith, Broken Bow, Nebraska
Jay Snider, Cyril, Oklahoma
Dave Stamey, Orange Grove, California
Gail Steiger, Prescott, Arizona
Rod Taylor, Cimarron, New Mexico
Ian Tyson, Longview, Alberta, Canada
Dick Warwick, Oakesdale, Washington
Andy Wilkinson & Andy Hedges, Lubbock, Texas
Wylie & The Wild West, Conrad, Montana
Paul Zarzyski, Great Falls, Montana


Western Folklife Center • 501 Railroad Street • Elko, Nevada • 89801 • 775.738.7508
dminter@westernfolklife.org
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Where are Charlie Kuralt and Stephen Fry when you really need them?

Elko, Nevada. Ruby Mountains in right background.

Elko, Nevada, Ruby Mountains in background to right. Notice the "E" on the mountain. Image via Wikipedia

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Posted by Ed Darrell

Poet Devona Wyant, “On the difference between 1 and 99”

November 14, 2011

On the difference between 1 and 99

 

1% is when you spend the winters at your house on Fiji.

99% is when you heat your living quarters

with a single space heater.

1% is when your prescription is automatically

in your medicine cabinet and you don’t have to think about it.

99% is when you count the remaining pills of your

prescription and know you’ll run out before your SS check comes.

1% is when you tell your driver which car to drive today.

99% is when you walk everywhere you go

if your town doesn’t have buses.

1% is when you walk into the trendiest restaurant in town

and you don’t even need a reservation.

99% is when you buy outdated meat and produce

or stand in line at a soup kitchen.

1% is when you turn on the news and nod at the politician

who says if you can’t work, you shouldn’t eat.

99% is when you don’t know what the politician said

because you couldn’t pay the electric bill.

1% doesn’t have to go to work.

99% can’t even apply for a job because you’re unemployed

and they aren’t accepting applications from the unemployed.

1% turns away from the bottom 99% because if they don’t work

or pay taxes, they have no value.

99% may be buried in a Potter’s Field before the expected life span

because

. .you were malnourished, sick, numb from cold and depression,

. .and told you have to get off the sidewalk.

One will die acclaimed.

One will die unclaimed

. .because America can’t have street beggars.

But it does have an invisible army of the poor…unarmed,

under-housed, under-fed, under-educated, out of hope, out of time,

and out of social uniform.

Just so much cannon fodder for our Class Warfare.

Devona Wyant

I subscribe to Poem-a-Day and a couple of other services that deliver poetry to my mailbox.  I subscribe to a couple of list-servs that feature poets.  A precious few favor me with e-mails, somehow listing me among their friends.

I got this one today, probably unpublished elsewhere.  Watch for it.

[This poem above is not quoted, though it is the work of Ms. Wyant, because the quote formatting changed the formatting of the poem itself.  Please be sure to attribute the poem correctly to Ms. Wyant, who holds the copyright.]

Poet Devona Wyant, center. Caption from Lincolnton, North Carolina, Times-News: Poets Morgan DiStefano, Shane Manier and Devona Wyant and their group, Poetry Lincolnton, released their first anthology in June [2013].

Poet Devona Wyant, center. Caption from Lincolnton, North Carolina, Times-News: Poets Morgan DiStefano, Shane Manier and Devona Wyant and their group, Poetry Lincolnton, released their first anthology in June [2013].

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98 Comments | History, Literature, Poetry | Tagged: , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

Still quote of the moment: Martin Niemöller, “. . . I did not speak out . . .”

August 16, 2011

First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a communist;
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist;
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew;
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak out for me.

— Pastor Martin Niemöller

German theologian and Lutheran Pastor Martin Niemöller on a postage stamp, painted by Gerd Aretz in 1992 – Wikipedia

Some time this year school curricula turn to the Holocaust, in English, in world history, and in U.S. history.

Martin Niemöller’s poem registers powerfully for most people — often people do not remember exactly who said it. I have seen it attributed to Deitrich Bonhoeffer (who worked with Niemöller in opposing some Nazi programs), Albert Einstein, Reinhold Niebuhr, Albert Schweitzer, Elie Wiesel, and an “anonymous inmate in a concentration camp.”

Niemöller and his actions generate controversy — did he ever act forcefully enough? Did his actions atone for his earlier inactions? Could anything ever atone for not having seen through Hitler and opposing Naziism from the start? For those discussion reasons, I think it’s important to keep the poem attributed to Niemöller. The facts of his life, his times, and his creation of this poem, go beyond anything anyone could make up. The real story sheds light.

Resources:

Noted here last February.

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1 Comment | 1941-1945, Dissent, Famous quotes, History, Holocaust, Literature, Poetry, World War II | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

Walt Whitman’s thoughts on time, political trouble, and whether we should go to work on Monday, in August

August 7, 2011

Another gem from Poem-A-Day from the Academy of American Poets:

On the Beach at Night Alone
by Walt Whitman

On the beach at night alone,
As the old mother sways her to and fro, singing her husky song,
As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of the universes, and of the future.

A vast similitude interlocks all,
All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets
All distances of place however wide,
All distances of time, all inanimate forms,
All souls, all living bodies, though they be ever so different, or in different worlds,
All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the brutes,
All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages,
All identities that have existed, or may exist, on this globe, or any globe,
All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,
This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann’d,
And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them.

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On the Beach At Night Alone - image from Adventures of a Tiny Lady

Googled “on the beach at night alone” and found this, from Adventures of a Tiny Lady – copyright by AoaTL

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Leave a Comment » | Life, Poetry | Tagged: , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

Poem of the moment: William Cullen Bryant on the summer of 2011

July 31, 2011

He did not write specifically for this year, of course.

Here’s one more reason you should subscribe to the Academy of American Poets‘ Poem-A-Day:

Click banner to go to American Academy of Poets; you may subscribe to Poem a Day

Click banner to go to American Academy of Poets; you may subscribe to Poem-A-Day

Midsummer
by William Cullen Bryant

A power is on the earth and in the air,
→From which the vital spirit shrinks afraid,
→And shelters him in nooks of deepest shade,
From the hot steam and from the fiery glare.
Look forth upon the earth—her thousand plants
→Are smitten; even the dark sun-loving maize
→Faints in the field beneath the torrid blaze;
The herd beside the shaded fountain pants;
For life is driven from all the landscape brown;
→The bird hath sought his tree, the snake his den,
→The trout floats dead in the hot stream, and men
Drop by the sunstroke in the populous town:
→As if the Day of Fire had dawned, and sent
→Its deadly breath into the firmament.

July 31, 2011 – Today’s poem appears in Poems, published by University of Michigan.  Read more about this book.

Leave a Comment » | Poetry | Tagged: , , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

Remembering April 18 and 19: Paul Revere’s Ride, and the “shot heard ’round the world”

April 18, 2011

This is mostly an encore post.

April 18 19. Do the dates have significance? Paul Revere's ride, from Paul Revere House

Among other things, it is the date of the firing of the “shot heard ’round the world,” the first shots in the American Revolution. On April 19, 1775, American Minutemen stood to protect arsenals they had created at Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts, against seizure by the British Army then occupying Boston.

April is National Poetry Month. What have we done to celebrate poetry?

What have we done to properly acknowledge the key events of April 18 and 19, 1775? Happily, poetry helps us out in history studies, or can do.

In contrast to my childhood, when we as students had poems to memorize weekly throughout our curriculum, modern students too often come to my classes seemingly unaware that rhyming and rhythm are used for anything other than celebrating materialist, establishment values obtained sub rosa. Poetry, to them, is mostly rhythm; but certainly not for polite company, and never for learning.

Poems slipped from our national curriculum, dropped away from our national consciousness.

And that is one small part of the reason that Aprils in the past two decades turned instead to memorials to violence, and fear that violence will break out again. We have allowed darker ideas to dominate April, and especially the days around April 19.

You and I have failed to properly commemorate the good, I fear. We have a duty to pass along these cultural icons, as touchstones to understanding America.

So, reclaim the high ground. Reclaim the high cultural ground.

Read a poem today. Plan to be sure to have the commemorative reading of “Paul Revere’s Ride” in your classes next April 18 or 19, and “The Concord Hymn” on April 19.

We must work to be sure our heritage of freedom is remembered, lest we condemn our students, our children and grandchildren to having to relearn these lessons of history, as Santayana warned.

Texts of the poems are below the fold, though you may be much better off to use the links and see those sites, the Paul Revere House, and the Minuteman National Historical Park.

Read the rest of this entry »

7 Comments | American Revolution, History, Poetry, Shot Heard 'Round the World | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

“Is that a poem in your pocket?” she asked.

April 13, 2011

Not only is April National Poetry Month, but April 14th is National Poem in Your Pocket Day.

Poem in Your Pocket Day logo, 2011

National Poem in Your Pocket Day 2011 - click for details

The idea is simple: select a poem you love during National Poetry Month then carry it with you to share with co-workers, family, and friends.

Poems from pockets will be unfolded throughout the day with events in parks, libraries, schools, workplaces, and bookstores. Create your own Poem In Your Pocket Day event using ideas below or let us know how your plans, projects, and suggestions for Poem In Your Pocket Day by emailing npm@poets.org.

Put Poems In Pockets

In this age of mechanical and digital reproduction, it’s easy to carry a poem, share a poem, or start your own PIYP day event. Here are some ideas of how you might get involved:

  • Start a “poems for pockets” give-a-way in your school or workplace
  • Urge local businesses to offer discounts for those carrying poems
  • Post pocket-sized verses in public places
  • Handwrite some lines on the back of your business cards
  • Start a street team to pass out poems in your community
  • Distribute bookmarks with your favorite immortal lines
  • Add a poem to your email footer
  • Post a poem on your blog or social networking page
  • Project a poem on a wall, inside or out
  • Text a poem to friends

Help us expand the list: send your ideas to npm@poets.org.

Poem In Your Pocket History

Poem In Your Pocket Day has been celebrated each April in New York City since 2004. Each year, city parks, bookstores, workplaces, and other venues burst with open readings of poems from pockets. Even the Mayor gets in on the festivities, reading a poem on the radio. For more information on New York City’s celebration, visit nyc.gov/poem.

Highlights from past Poem In Your Pocket Day events.

Poems have been stowed in pockets in a variety of ways, from the commonplace books of the Renaissance to the pocket-sized publications for Army soldiers in World War II. Have a story about the marriage of the poem and the pocket? Send them to npm@poets.org.

I just stumbled into National Poetry Month and National Poem in Your Pocket Day a few years ago, gearing up to use The Ride of Paul Revere on the anniversary of his famous ride.  How are you using poetry in your job?

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Posted by Ed Darrell

April is National Poetry Month, 2011

April 10, 2011

You did remember, right?  I got another reminder in e-mail:

National Poetry Month continues, and so does your support! We’re getting closer to our goal of $30,000 in 30 days, and we thank you for your donation. If you haven’t donated yet, please do. You’ll be helping us share your love of poetry with children and adults all across America.

Here’s another way to support National Poetry Month: celebrate Poem In Your Pocket Day on Thursday, April 14. It’s simple: tuck a poem you love in your pocket and share it with co-workers, family, and friends. Or go a step further and create your own Poem In Your Pocket Day event using the ideas at www.poets.org/pockets.

And please, please, show your support for poetry with a donation to the Academy of American Poets. As an added incentive, we’ll thank you for your generosity with these free gifts:
• Donate $25 and receive a free download of W.S. Merwin recordings.
• Donate $50 and receive a free download of W.S. Merwin recordings and a Walt Whitman ruled notebook for your own poems.
• Donate $100 and receive a free download of W.S. Merwin recordings, a Walt Whitman ruled notebook for your own poems, and a copy of the innovative anthology Poem in Your Pocket for Young Poets.

Please click here to support National Poetry Month. And if you haven’t downloaded the Poem Flow app for your iPhone, find it on iTunes and take poetry with you wherever you are.

Thanks for being a part of the Poets.org community. Please sign in to subscribe to other Poets.org newsletters, change your email address or unsubscribe from this list at any time.

Academy of American Poets
75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901
New York, NY 10038
212-274-0343
academy@poets.org

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Posted by Ed Darrell

Phillis Wheatley: Poem for Presidents Day

February 21, 2011

From the Poem-a-Day folks at the American Academy of Poets:

His Excellency General Washington
by Phillis Wheatley

George Washington

George Washington, as he appears on the one dollar bill.

 

Celestial choir! enthron’d in realms of light,
Columbia’s scenes of glorious toils I write.
While freedom’s cause her anxious breast alarms,
She flashes dreadful in refulgent arms.
See mother earth her offspring’s fate bemoan,
And nations gaze at scenes before unknown!
See the bright beams of heaven’s revolving light
Involved in sorrows and the veil of night!

The Goddess comes, she moves divinely fair,
Olive and laurel binds Her golden hair:
Wherever shines this native of the skies,
Unnumber’d charms and recent graces rise.

Muse! Bow propitious while my pen relates
How pour her armies through a thousand gates,
As when Eolus heaven’s fair face deforms,
Enwrapp’d in tempest and a night of storms;
Astonish’d ocean feels the wild uproar,
The refluent surges beat the sounding shore;
Or think as leaves in Autumn’s golden reign,
Such, and so many, moves the warrior’s train.
In bright array they seek the work of war,
Where high unfurl’d the ensign waves in air.
Shall I to Washington their praise recite?
Enough thou know’st them in the fields of fight.
Thee, first in peace and honors—we demand
The grace and glory of thy martial band.
Fam’d for thy valour, for thy virtues more,
Hear every tongue thy guardian aid implore!

One century scarce perform’d its destined round,
When Gallic powers Columbia’s fury found;
And so may you, whoever dares disgrace
The land of freedom’s heaven-defended race!
Fix’d are the eyes of nations on the scales,
For in their hopes Columbia’s arm prevails.
Anon Britannia droops the pensive head,
While round increase the rising hills of dead.
Ah! Cruel blindness to Columbia’s state!
Lament thy thirst of boundless power too late.

Proceed, great chief, with virtue on thy side,
Thy ev’ry action let the Goddess guide.
A crown, a mansion, and a throne that shine,
With gold unfading, WASHINGTON! Be thine.

American Poet Phyllis Wheatley, detail from the Boston Women's Memorial on Commonwealth Ave.

American Poet Phillis Wheatley, detail from the Boston Women’s Memorial on Commonwealth Ave.

Who was the inspiring woman, Phillis Wheatley? Read her biography at the Academy of American Poets site.

Phillis Wheatley was the first black poet in America to publish a book. She was born around 1753 in West Africa and brought to New England in 1761, where John Wheatley of Boston purchased her as a gift for his wife. Although they brought her into the household as a slave, the Wheatleys took a great interest in Phillis’s education. Many biographers have pointed to her precocity; Wheatley learned to read and write English by the age of nine, and she became familiar with Latin, Greek, the Bible, and selected classics at an early age. She began writing poetry at thirteen, modeling her work on the English poets of the time, particularly John Milton, Thomas Gray, and Alexander Pope. Her poem “On the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield” was published as a broadside in cities such as Boston, New York, and Philadelphia and garnered Wheatley national acclaim. This poem was also printed in London. Over the next few years, she would print a number of broadsides elegizing prominent English and colonial leaders.

More, at the AAP site.

2 Comments | George Washington, History, Literature, Poetry, Presidents | Tagged: , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

Poem-a-Day: William Cullen Bryant, “A Song for New Year’s Eve”

December 31, 2010

Poem-a-Day from the Academy of American Poets (you don’t subscribe?):

Poet William Cullen BryantCullen

Poet William Cullen BryantCullen

A Song for New Year’s Eve

by William Cullen Bryant

Stay yet, my friends, a moment stay—
Stay till the good old year,
So long companion of our way,
Shakes hands, and leaves us here.
Oh stay, oh stay,
One little hour, and then away.

The year, whose hopes were high and strong,
Has now no hopes to wake;
Yet one hour more of jest and song
For his familiar sake.
Oh stay, oh stay,
One mirthful hour, and then away.

The kindly year, his liberal hands
Have lavished all his store.
And shall we turn from where he stands,
Because he gives no more?
Oh stay, oh stay,
One grateful hour, and then away.

Days brightly came and calmly went,
While yet he was our guest;
How cheerfully the week was spent!
How sweet the seventh day’s rest!
Oh stay, oh stay,
One golden hour, and then away.

Dear friends were with us, some who sleep
Beneath the coffin-lid:
What pleasant memories we keep
Of all they said and did!
Oh stay, oh stay,
One tender hour, and then away.

Even while we sing, he smiles his last,
And leaves our sphere behind.
The good old year is with the past;
Oh be the new as kind!
Oh stay, oh stay,
One parting strain, and then away.

More:

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Posted by Ed Darrell

Texas poet: Edit out all the unwanted words . . . newspaper blackout

September 19, 2010

Great story about a Texas poet, Austin Kleon — and wouldn’t this be an interesting project for poetry study?  The method is called “newspaper blackout” in the story; a new genre of poetry?

From PBS’s Newshour, September 14, 2010 (transcript here):

I am reminded of the story of the sculptor who, when asked how he made such wonderful statues, said he merely chipped away from the stone everything that wasn’t the sculpture he wanted.  Who was that?

PBS Newshour provides the best coverage of literature and poetry of any major television news operation, another good reason to keep PBS well-funded.

1 Comment | Creativity, Newspapers, Poetry, Student projects, Texas | Tagged: , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

O, say! Does that woman’s lamp still burn beside the golden door?

September 12, 2010

Liberty stands gazing out at about 265 feet* above the water of New York Harbor, a fixture there since construction in the 1880s.

The Statue of Liberty Enlightening the World was a gift of friendship from the people of France to the people of the United States and is a universal symbol of freedom and democracy. The Statue of Liberty was dedicated on October 28, 1886, designated as a National Monument in 1924 and restored for her centennial on July 4, 1986.

The Statue of Liberty has been a fixture in the U.S. and American psyche, too.  Excuse me, or join me, in wondering whether we have not lost something of our former dedication to the Statue of Liberty, and the reasons France and Americans joined to build it.

Poem-a-Day sent Emma Lazarus’s “The New Colossus” out this morning (Poem-a-Day is a wonderful service of the American Academy of Poets — you may subscribe and I recommend it).  There it was, waiting for me in e-mail.   My students generally have not heard nor read the poem, I discover year after year —  some sort of Texas-wide failure in enculturation prompted by too-specific requirements of federal law and state law, combining to make a slatwork of culture taught in our classrooms with too many cracks into which culture actually falls, out of sight, out of mind; out of memory.  I fear it may be a nationwide failure as well.

Have you read the poem lately?  It once encouraged American school children to send pennies to build a home for the statue.  Today it wouldn’t get a majority of U.S. Congressmen to sign on to consponsor a reading of it.  Glenn Beck would contest its history, Rush Limbaugh would discount the politics of the “giveaways” in the poem, John Boehner would scoriate the victims in the poem for having missed his meeting of lobbyists (‘they just missed the right boat’), and Sarah Palin would complain about “an air-bridge to nowhere,” or complain that masses who huddle are probably up to no good (they might touch, you know).

Have you read it lately?

The New Colossus

by Emma Lazarus

Liberty Enlightening the World; French: La Liberté éclairant le monde - Wikimedia Commons image

Liberty Enlightening the World; French: La Liberté éclairant le monde - Wikimedia Commons image

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

AAP makes poems available for iPhones, too, and you can see how it appears, phrase by phrase.  “The New Colossus” takes on more of its power and majesty delivered that way.

Is the Academy of American Poets playing politics here?  It’s September 12.  Yesterday many Americans took part in ceremonies and service projects in remembrance of the victims of the attack on the U.S. on September 11, 2001.  In much of the rest of America, there is an active movement to nail shut the “golden door,” to turn out a sign that would say “No tired, no poor nor huddled masses yearning to breathe free; especially no wretched refuse, no homeless, and let the tempest-tost stay in Guatemala and Pakistan.”

Would Americans bother to contribute to build a Statue of Liberty today?  Or would they protest against it?

Does that lamp still shine beside the golden door?

Stereoscopic image of the arm and torch of Liberty, at the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia

Stereoscopic image of the arm and torch of Liberty, at the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia; Robert N. Dennis Collection, New York Public Library. The arm was displayed to encourage contributions to the fund to build a pedestal for the statue, from private donations.

_____________

*  I’m calculating Liberty’s gaze at about 40 feet below the tip of the torch, which is just over 305 feet above the base of the statue on the ground.  The base is probably 20 feet higher than the water, but this isn’t exact science we’re talking about here.

32 Comments | History, Homelessness, Icons of history, Immigration, Patriotism, Poetry, Poverty | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

Inspiration for the first day of school, part 2 – Taylor Mali, and “What do you make?”

August 23, 2010

It ain’t easy being a teacher.  Newsweek puts you on the cover, saying you need to be fired.  Texas Gov. Rick Perry says you don’t need job security, as if getting additional money for teacher salaries would make teachers secure in places like Dallas, where mid-year RIFs are a too-recent, bitter memory.  Heck, just looking at the curriculum in Texas can depress a teacher.  Parents think you don’t call them enough, or too much — but never the Goldilocks optimum.  Students?  Even the best student is surly in the last period of the first day back at school.

Taylor Mali knows all about that.  He taught for several years — but he struck out as a professional slam poet.  His work there remains among the best tributes to teaching of the past 50 years, at least.  You probably heard this poem, or somebody sent it to you in an e-mail (especially if you’re a teacher) — but attributed to “Anonymous.”

Well, here is Anonymous, the Unknown Teacher — whose name is Taylor Mali.  Watch for him and his work.

This is an encore post from 2007.  (Mild profanity.)

_________________________

Killer lesson plans:  Teachers as superheroes

Reader Bernarda noted this site in comments, and it’s good enough to promote more formally: Teachers as the alter egos of superheroes.

Teachers ARE superheroes, a lot of them. More than in other professions, certainly.

Which reminds me of this video. Teachers, you need to watch this sometime here in the first month of school. What do you say when someone rudely asks, “What do you make?” Wholly apart from the Ann Landers-style answer, “Whatever would possess anyone to ask such a personal question?” there is an answer to give, as explained by slam poet Taylor Mali; surely you’ve seen this before, but watch it again — to remember what teachers should be doing, as well as how to talk about it. See below.

[Update August 2010:  Hmmmmm.  Well, that video is out of commission at the moment — Mali and copyright?

Mali has a version at his website, for sale.  Buy it, you have it in high fidelity audio, video and emotion.

Here’s a shorter version of the tape not available above:

It remains the single best piece about teaching and why teachers do it when they don’t get paid the big bucks, when administrators make it so hard, and when society at large wants to fire them all — they do it for the kids.  What do they make?]

You can support Mr. Mali. Just purchase a pen that includes that little poem.

You can support Mr. Mali and his campaign for good teachers in another way, too. Make sure that whenever you talk about this poem of his, you credit it to him. I think we as teachers owe that to artists, and other teachers, as part of our continuing struggles against plagiarism.

But we also owe it to ourselves to get credit to Mr. Mali. Odds are he has some other good things to say. When you properly attribute his work, you increase the chances that someone else will find the rest of his work. You increase the chances that some superintendent will hire Mr. Mali to speak to the teachers in his district. You increase the chances that someone will understand that Mr. Mali is a real human being who loves teaching — he is, in short, one of those superheroes we call “teachers,” even without a cape.

Uncaped crusaders need compliments, too.

Leave a Comment » | Education, Education success, First day, Plagiarism, Poetry, Teachers, Teaching, War on Education | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

I get e-mail poetry: 20 Questions

June 18, 2010

Actually, I get a lot of e-mails with poetry, between list-servs with a few (very good) amateur bards, and the Poem-a-Day feature.

This one came in this morning:

Eisenhower warned us “Beware of the Military/Industrial Complex. Today we have the Political/Military/Industrial Complex and it survives through euphemisms. This poem illustrates the process.

Twenty Questions


When did oil drilling become energy recovery?
When did putting people before profits become distorting the market?
When did death become negative patient care outcome?
When did the poor become economically disadvantaged?
When did very low food insecurity replace hunger?
When did hiding the truth become lack of transparency?
When did denying your own words become “I may have misspoke”?
When did truthiness become close enough?
When did taxpayers replace citizens?
When did mercenaries become security contractors?
When did overthrowing a country become regime change?
When did a prisoner of war become a detainee?
When did torture become pain compliance?
When did killing your own soldiers become friendly fire?
When did killing civilians become collateral damage?
When did massive bombing become shock and awe?
When did genocide become ethnic cleansing?
When did lies become spin?
When did peace become pre-hostility?
When did all of the above become acceptable?

Devona Wyant
June 2010

All rights reserved

3 Comments | History, Language, Linguistics, Poetry, Politics | Tagged: , , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

Dan Valentine: Memorial Day, Part II

June 1, 2010

Memorial Day. Pt. 2.

[See Part I, here]

By Dan Valentine

The greatest anti-war/peace song ever written is “What a Wonderful World.” Just one man’s opinion.

Wikipedia: Clear Channel included it on its list of songs that might be inappropriate for airplay in the period after the September 11 attack.

The Louis Armstrong version was used ironically in “Dr. Strangelove” over a montage of bombings.

Satchmo’s version was again used ironically in “Good Morning, Vietnam.”

It was used again by Michael Moore’s film “Bowling for Columbine,” “where it accompanies scenes of violence about U.S. intervention in international affairs.”

It has been used many times since. It’ll be used many times more. The song says it all.

Tho’ many don’t get the gist.

AND SATCHMO SINGS
(c) 2010 Daniel Valentine

VERSE
Stand awhile on hallowed ground
Where heroes sleep and look around.
Here and there a flag adorns a grave,
And there are fresh-cut flowers for the brave.

Walk along the rows and rows
And read what’s there inscribed on those
Graves on which the flowers lie across.
The stones have little room to note the loss.

REFRAIN
Here rests a boy, eighteen-years young.
Forever lost: songs never sung.
His dream was to be a songwriter-singer.
He died when a trigger was squeezed by a finger,
All his hopes dashed while one wisp of rising smoke curled.

Here seated are a dad and mom,
Their son killed by a roadside bomb.
Their dream for their boy was a long and good life,
A career that he loved, lots of kids, a good wife.
Choking back tears, they’re handed a flag smartly furled.

And Taps is played,
Wreaths and flowers are laid,
And down the road by the White House lawn,
A staffer jogs with his headphones on,
AND SATCHMO SINGS,
“What a wonderful world …”

Here rests a woman, thirty-four.
She had a child and dreamed of more.
She grew up in Raleigh, North Carolina.
Her father was killed in far-flung Indochina.
Both of them died while overhead chopper blades twirled.

Here rests one more among the dead,
El Paso, Texas, born and bred.
His dream was to help the children, those dying.
He died kicking down a door, tracer rounds flying–
Boom!–when a bomb exploded and shrapnel was hurled.

And Taps is played,
One or two speeches made,
And driving by in an SUV,
A pundit hums to a worn CD,
AND SATCHMO SINGS,
“What a wonderful world …”

Here comes another clean-cut kid,
A flag draped on his coffin lid.
His dream was to be a major-league catcher.
He died crying out for his mom on a stretcher,
Coughing up blood while all around desert sand swirled.

And Taps is played,
Last respects duly paid,
And fat-cat oil execs, checkbooks drawn,
Turn up the sound when their song comes on,
AND SATCHMO SINGS,
“What a wonderful world …”

3 Comments | Lessons of history, Music, Poetry, veterans, War | Tagged: , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by Ed Darrell

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