versealive

Weather gathers more  importance as I inch toward “that good night”.  I cherish every day, you’d think a little rain, sleet, or snow wouldn’t matter at all. But it does, it does. Without enough sun I’m reduced to a bundle of blinking neurons lighting up with pain. Enough is the operative word here.

SUN, OH GREAT ATEN, I NEED YOU. If I lived in ancient Egypt that would be my prayer. And in this dark New England Spring that is my prayer. So get out your pencils and write a poem/prayer about the weather.

Here’s one from anyone’s youth:

Rain rain go away

Come again some other day

Little Susie wants to go out to play

May has been wetter than I’d hoped but the flowers and trees are the beneficiaries. The daffodils were spectacular, lasting weeks longer than last year’s bloom and I’ve seen the first iris in my yard – a miniature white iris. I can suffer the rain when the rewards are healthy growth for my gardens.

My flowers are like the poetry I write – many sprouts but not as many full grown masterpieces. The rain helps both- it waters the flowers and keeps me inside where I sit in front of my computer not tempted to go out in the gray wet.

May continues almost as a second April. Libraries have discovered e-mails from individuals offering programs to celebrate poetry and, though April, National Poetry Month, has slipped by, May is fine for poetry programs.

I’ve been given the opportunity to present a talk on Louise Bogan at the Massachusetts State Poetry Society and it is tomorrow, Sat., May 7  in Reading. Please join me at the Reading Library at 64 Middlesex Avenue and discover or rediscover Louise Bogan, one of the greatest poets of the twentieth century.

Here’s a poem by Louise Bogan that was one of only a couple of poems that Louise wrote after being commissioned. Corning Glassware was planning a design show and paired design glass with poetry.

The Dragonfly

You are made of almost nothing

But of enough

To be great eyes

And diaphanous double vans;

To be ceaseless movement,

Unending hunger

Grappling love.

Link between water and air,

Earth repels you.

Light touches you only to shift into iridescence

Upon your body and wings

Twice-born, predator,

You split into the heat.

Swift beyond calculation or capture

You dart into the shadow

Which consumes you.

You rocket into the day.

But at last, when the wind flattens the grasses,

For you, the design and purpose stop.

And you fall

With the other husks of summer.

Easter is behind us, but spring resurrection is just beginning here in Central Massachusetts. The daffodils have popped out everywhere and so have the forsythia giving us sunshine even when the day is cloudy and gray. The iris will be next…

Last night’s celebration of National Poetry Month was a delightful success. The eighteen  poems read, captivated and transformed the audience. After the public reading the library’s community room resounded with animation and laughter. To top it off, the Louise Bogan poets returned home with a renewed commitment to develop their poems.

Here’s a list, in no particular order, of the readers and the poems read:

1. Richard Letarte—Tinkers To Evers To Chance by Franklin Pierce Adams and                                                  6 to 4 to 3 by Jim Biggie

2. Ann Descoteaux—Personal Helicon by Seamus Heaney

3. Jan VanVaerenewyck—The Owl And The Pussycat by Edward Lear

4. Ona Brown —The Wind In The Window Flower by Robert Frost

5. Larry Swope—The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

6. Latrice Cooper— Women Child Lost In Dreams by James Cavanaugh

7. Nancy Tremblay—I Dreamt I Was Dead,  Author Unknown

8. Larry Bennett—Praying by Mary Oliver

9. Kate McCarron—My Papa’s Waltz by Theodore Roethke

10. Ruth Ste. Marie—Casey At The Bat by Ernest Thayer

11. Emily Holman—Shake The Dust by Anis Mojgani

12. Paula Botch—March Madness by Douglas Sturgill

13. Chris Coleman—Homage To My Hips by Lucille Clifton and

I Could Have Lost You by Jeanette Maes

14. Regina McGee—The Canyon Wren by Gary Snyder

15. Pat Vandenberg—Invocation by Charles Butterfield

16. Marie Mueller— My Family’s Sleeping Late Today by Jack Prelutsky

17. Joyce Heon— Lullaby Of The Onion by Miguel Hernandez and

Leek Street by Laure-Anne Bosselaar

18. Lindsay Morand—Boston Is Like No Other Place In The World by E.B. White

My granddaughters are visiting this week. It’s great fun to watch them (and sometimes join in) as they expend mountains of energy. Poetry writing is one of their more sedate  activities, but they all like to write and share their work. Here are two poems — one from each of my first grade darlings. Happy, happy poetry month!

The Pond

by Katie

When I go to the pond

it’s mushy and muddy.

It’s skwishy and skuddy.

It’s dirty and krudy.

And I see a birdy.

Pink Light

by Celeste

Pink light pink

Apple dried apple

Ink black ink

I made a link

To let our pens flow with the freedom of a seven-year-old is a happy exercise that will open new ideas and thoughts.  Write freely for twenty minutes and discover…

Yesterday I joined the North Shore Poetry Forum for their annual Poetry Reading celebrating National Poetry Month and the Naomi Cherkofsky’s contest.

Much to my delight I won an honorable mention in the contest and read the winning poem, Dragonfly, to the audience along with Paperboy In The Dugout, and Split Hemlock.

In addition to the poetry contest winners reading, each forum participant had the opportunity to read three poems. The poems ranged from a long prose poem to a short memorized rhymed poem. The variety was uplifting and inspirational.

National Poetry Month is bringing much to inspire and praise the writing of poetry.

David Brooks, a syndicated columnist, speaks to all of this morning when he talks of the metaphors in our daily speech. He sites a number of linguistic experts, one of whom suggests that people use a metaphor every 10-25 words.

Brooks says that metaphors compensate for our natural weaknesses when we talk about abstractions or spiritual states. We may say a woman is down in the dumps when she is sad or may say that she is soaring when she is happy. He suggests that the metaphors we use are the lenses through which we view the world.

Inspired by Mr. Brooks take the time to choose a metaphor for spring and start a poem. Here’s an example to get you started.

She rooted herself in the dark room of her life.
Her fertile bed sprouted more than the infants she
carefully tended. She hadn’t expected to find weeds
twisted around her harvest. etc etc.

The earliest daffodils are open, those daffs that are frilly and others that are planted to naturalize. The birds are tweeting, not just the people. There are delicious poems about spring to read and write. Look out your window, or notice on your drive to work, the hopeful changes that are taking place. The buds are popping, early flowers are blooming and the air is warming. It’s time for us to blossom, to shed our winter doldrums and write our hearts desire. Here’s a little light verse to give you a smile:

Birth of Spring

Liz and her dog
plodding along.
Iris, jonquils
sleep by the path.
Trees open buds
ready to green.
Liz and her dog
quicken their pace.
Hyacinth blooms
look at the sky.
Blue covers grey,
sun bursts through clouds.
Liz and her dog
dance in the yard,
sniff the fresh air,
laugh at the ants,
walk the old branch
springing to life.
Liz and her dog
attacked by the bugs
prance up and down
shake out the pests
plead to the gods
“take the red ants.”
Liz and her dog
stung by the ants
run to the beach
jump in the pond
cool their six legs
pray for relief.
Liz and her dog
collapse in a
heap.

Bonnie Toomey writes for the “Sentinel & Enterprise” among other papers and magazines. And I was the subject of her article today. Bonnie’s work adds to National Poetry Month and affirms my commitment to poetry. Thank you Bonnie.

Today is a good day to take a long walk in Central Massachusetts — the day is lengthening, it’s cool but not freezing, the sun is shining. Take a walk and when you return pick up a pencil and jot down your thoughts — you’ll have the beginning of a poem.

Last evening Regina Mcgee and I (MaryEllen Letarte) were guests of Barbara Foster on her “Barbara and You” broadcast. She is the perfect television host. We spoke of National Poetry Month and invited the public to Lunenburg Library for the poetry festivities on April 14 and April 25. I spoke of Louise Bogan and Regina shared a poem written by Billy Collins. The show ended with Barbara quoting Emerson so I’m adding an Emerson quote  here. “The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.”