Day 50

Mayfly

"...one ought every day at least to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words." -Goethe

A poem for the first day of May: Tess Taylor's "May Day" reminds us of how quickly spring passes. Pay attention to the changes each day brings!

May Day

BY TESS TAYLOR

They go, the early flags, the gory maples—

so too the daffodils & Lenten roses.

Other petals swirl & nights warm.

Buds thicken and cast shadows:

in a thunderstorm

I almost forget the ice that was.

Narcissi suckle watery paths;

meadows heap up emerald masses.

How green & I want to delight

except this undertow—it pulls so fast

passing before I recognize it—

like souls in Dante who can’t see the present,

white lilacs curdle in pre-summer heat.

The parade I barely noticed was beginning

is already halfway down the street.

A song for today: "Mayfly" by Belle and Sebastian

Works Cited

Belle and Sebastian. "Mayfly." If you're feeling sinister, Jeepster, 1997.

Taylor, Tess. "May Day." Poetryfoundation.org. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/89551/may-day-574779bff38bb. Accessed 1 May 2020.

Day 49

"...one ought every day at least to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words." -Goethe

A poem for today: "What Kind of Times Are These" by Adrienne Rich

What Kind of Times Are These

BY ADRIENNE RICH

There's a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphill

and the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadows

near a meeting-house abandoned by the persecuted

who disappeared into those shadows.

I've walked there picking mushrooms at the edge of dread, but don't be fooled

this isn't a Russian poem, this is not somewhere else but here,

our country moving closer to its own truth and dread,

its own ways of making people disappear.

I won't tell you where the place is, the dark mesh of the woods

meeting the unmarked strip of light—

ghost-ridden crossroads, leafmold paradise:

I know already who wants to buy it, sell it, make it disappear.

And I won't tell you where it is, so why do I tell you

anything? Because you still listen, because in times like these

to have you listen at all, it's necessary

to talk about trees.

A song for today: "What's Going On?" by Marvin Gaye

Works Cited

Gaye, Marvin (1939-1984). "What's Going On?" What's Going On?, Tamla, 1971.

Rich, Adrienne (1929-2012). "What Kind of Times Are These." Poetryfoundation.org. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/51092/what-kind-of-times-are-these. Accessed 30 April 2020.

Day 48

"...one ought every day at least to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words." -Goethe

A poem for today: Margaret Atwood's "Spelling." Although best know for her novels (especially The Handmaid's Tale), Margaret Atwood writes powerful poetry as well. "Spelling" includes the memorable stanza: "A word after a word / after a word is power." For a great profile of Atwood, check out this New Yorker piece from 2017.

Spelling

My daughter plays on the floor
with plastic letters,
red, blue & hard yellow,
learning how to spell,
spelling,
how to make spells.

I wonder how many women
denied themselves daughters,
closed themselves in rooms,
drew the curtains
so they could mainline words.

A child is not a poem,
a poem is not a child.
there is no either/or.
However.

I return to the story
of the woman caught in the war
& in labour, her thighs tied
together by the enemy
so she could not give birth.

Ancestress: the burning witch,
her mouth covered by leather
to strangle words.

A word after a word
after a word is power.

At the point where language falls away
from the hot bones, at the point
where the rock breaks open and darkness
flows out of it like blood, at
the melting point of granite
when the bones know
they are hollow & the word
splits & doubles & speaks
the truth & the body
itself becomes a mouth.

This is a metaphor.

How do you learn to spell?
Blood, sky & the sun,
your own name first,
your first naming, your first name,
your first word.

A song for today: "I Put a Spell on You" by Screamin' Jay Hawkins

Works Cited

Atwood, Margaret. "Spelling." True Stories, Oxford University Press, 1981.

Hawkins, Screamin' Jay (1929-2000). "I Put a Spell on You." At Home with Screamin' Jay Hawkins, Okey, 1956.

Day 47

"...one ought every day at least to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words." -Goethe

A poem for today: Nikki Giovanni's "the drum" is both simple and profound.

the drum

daddy says the world is

a drum tight and hard

and i told him

i'm gonna beat 

out my own rhythm

-nikki giovanni

A song for today: James Brown's "Funky Drummer" is one of the most sampled songs in popular music. 

Works Cited

Brown, James (1933-2006). "Funky Drummer." In the Jungle Groove, Polydor, 1986 (Recorded 1969).

Giovanni, Nikki. "the drum." The Reason I Like Chocolate, Folkways Records, 1976.