The End and the Beginning
After every war
someone has to clean up.
Things won’t
straighten themselves up, after all.
Someone has to push the rubble
to the side of the road,
so the corpse-filled wagons
can pass.
Someone has to get mired
in scum and ashes,
sofa springs,
splintered glass,
and bloody rags.
Someone has to drag in a girder
to prop up a wall.
Someone has to glaze a window,
rehang a door.
Photogenic it’s not,
and takes years.
All the cameras have left
for another war.
We’ll need the bridges back,
and new railway stations.
Sleeves will go ragged
from rolling them up.
Someone, broom in hand,
still recalls the way it was.
Someone else listens
and nods with unsevered head.
But already there are those nearby
starting to mill about
who will find it dull.
From out of the bushes
sometimes someone still unearths
rusted-out arguments
and carries them to the garbage pile.
Those who knew
what was going on here
must make way for
those who know little.
And less than little.
And finally as little as nothing.
In the grass that has overgrown
causes and effects,
someone must be stretched out
blade of grass in his mouth
gazing at the clouds.
— Wislawa Szymborska
To chirp Happy Memorial Day seems wrong. Where is the happy in war?
And so I say, let's try to imagine and honor what we don't fully know. Let's reach to understand.
Keep it Classy
Superlatives At Work!
Alternate Title: Oh, the places you'll go!
That's good copy. No, really. The writer: 1) caught my attention, 2) made me stop (to snap a pic), and 3) took a fresh perspective. That's a win!
But before we head over for happy hour, let's explore the definition of "classy" . . .
Thankful Thursday: Have a Martini
Because attention attracts gratitude and gratitude expands joy, it's time for Thankful Thursday (on, err, Friday).
I'm easy to please — just write me a letter. Handwritten notes make me giddy. This week I'm thankful for a bounty of kindness: completely unexpected and unsolicited letters and cards in my mailbox. And tucked inside a very nice note was a lovely poem with a touching backstory.
This poem appears in God's Hotel, a book chronicling Dr. Victoria Sweet's work with the poor, homeless and mentally ill at Laguna Honda Hospital in San Francisco, California. The author of the following poem is Mr Zed (a pseudonym to protect privacy), who was a member of the hospital's poetry group:
Letter Needing No Stamp
To His Supreme Holiness, the Lord:
I sometimes wonder how you can bear
The dreadful burden of knowing everyone's thoughts.
The anguish, the heartbreak, the agony.
How can you even relax?
Maybe you try not to get too involved.
Or maybe you spend all night, weeping.
Why did you create such a sad world?
Why don't sandwiches grow on trees?
Why do infants die?
Why do honest people get cheated?
Why do the poor get crushed to the wall?
Personally, I would turn down your job in a second.
You can't buy a pie or go to the movies.
And there are always people denouncing you and cursing you.
Some say you had a crazy son who said
I am the Way and the Life.
We must all pray that you never resign or become bitter.
As sad as things seem to be here
Without you they'd be infinitely worse.
Thank God for God
Stay in there buddy
Have a martini once in a while
Create a new universe.
— Mr. Zed
It's Thankful Thursday. Please join me.
What are you thankful for today?
Love that line!
All during Lena's life, Ella had worried about how the world could harm her. But the world could love her as well.
— from Like Normal People
a novel by Karen E. Bender
On Marriage & Divorce
Today I understand that sometimes couples get what they need from one another and then move on," says January Gill O'Neil. "I wouldn’t be the woman, mother, and writer that I am today without those experiences. And I would not have made it through the divorce without poetry."
She is director of the Massachusetts Poetry Festival, and assistant professor of English at Salem State University.
At 3 Good Books, she shares the books that helped her "get through the most difficult time in my life."
We've got Winners!
National Poetry Month is over.
Poem in Your Pocket Day is done.
And now, our last piece of business — announcing the winners of the Big Poetry Giveaway. Congratulations to . . .
Renee Emerson - winner of Thin Skin, by Drew Myron
Lori Cooley - winner of What It Is, by Lynda Barry
A good time was had by all.
Thanks for playing & poeming.
Thankful Thursday: Poem in Your Pocket
Oh, sweet serendipity!
So many good things in a single day: Thankful Thursday, Poem in Your Pocket Day, and your last chance to enter the Big Poetry Giveaway.
As part of National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day encourages you to carry a poem and share it with others.
You don't have to ask me twice; I revel in an opportunity to share poetry. On this Thankful Thursday, I sing the praises of poems carried, clutched, and shared.
What's in your pocket?
On Sunday: Distracted
You, who seek grace from a distracted God.
— Luis Alberto Urrea
from The Tijuana Book of the Dead
For days, this line hangs in my head.
I don’t know why. Timing, I suppose. It’s always timing.
And something about the direct appeal: You, who seek . . .
And my "trigger" words: seek, grace
But it’s the distracted that really gets me: from a distracted God
That’s it, isn’t it?
When we are lost and wandering, when answers seem nowhere, we think God is on vacation, pulled away by bigger problems, bigger people. We are forgotten.
And so these words hang like a necklace, around my neck, close to my heart. Reminder.
Of what, I'm not sure. It's Sunday, and I'm working it out.
On Wild Places
"Wild places — open, public lands — are where I gain my bearings, where I hike and run and think," says Erin Block, who lives in the mountains of Colorado.
She's a librarian by day and a writer by night, and her book, The View from Coal Creek, is a passionate reflection on fishing and life.
Join us at 3 Good Books, where Block shares her favorite books about wild places.
Thankful Thursday: Not Moldy Bread
I'm making a list in my head, I told her.
Of what?
Things I'm thankful for.
Am I on it?
Are you on it! I said.
She closed her eyes and made her own list.
Can it be something as small as discovering that your bread isn't moldy after all so there'll be toast for the kids for breakfast? she asked.
Yes, I said. My eyes were still closed. Right now I'm thanking God for twist-offs.
Oh, good one, she said.
— All My Puny Sorrows
a novel by Miriam Toews
It's Thankful Thursday, a weekly pause to express appreciation for the joys big, small, and inbetween. What are you thankful for today?
It's not a test
Even in elementary school it troubled me when our teacher, with all good intentions, read a poem to the class, then asked, What does it mean? My problem wasn't with the question, but with the idea that there was an Answer . . . A poem is not a test. Readers of poetry can't fail.
— Laura Kasischke
Yes! Exactly, yes.
Go here to read the full (but brief) glorious truth.
Win! Free Books for Poetry Month
Welcome to the 6th Annual Big Poetry Giveaway!
To celebrate National Poetry Month, poets across the globe are giving away books. Lucky you!
Playing is easy. To enter the drawing, simply leave a comment at the end of this blog post. On May 1st, I'll close my eyes, choose two names, and announce the winners.
I'm giving away two books — my own and one of my favorites:
Thin Skin
by Drew Myron
A blend of black-and-white photos paired with tender, precise poems.
She is the poet laureate of vulnerability!
— Molly Spencer, The Stanza
Thin Skin exposes the reader to life’s harsh elements, but also shows the way to refuge.
— Brian Juenemann
Pacific Northwest
Booksellers Association
What It Is
by Lynda Barry
Lynda Barry is a writer, illustrator and enthusiastic advocate for the arts. "Creativity is there in everybody, in everybody,” she says.
While not technically a poet, Barry embodies the creative, willing spirit that poetry requires. In fact, the Poetry Foundation featured Barry in this friendly and practical chat.
About Your Hostess (Me!)
Who I am: Drew Myron - writer, editor, encourager, poet, wife, daughter, sister
What I do: Write, read, snack & nap. Also, run a marketing communications company in which I give voice to people, places, projects.
What I believe: Gratitude drives joy. With Thankful Thursday, I take a weekly pause to express appreciation for things big and small. Please join in!
Blogs I read: Calm Things by Shawna Lemay, The Stanza by Molly Spencer, Battered Hive by Shawnte Orion, 3 Good Books by Push Pull Books (and me).
To enter the drawing, please leave your name and contact info in the comment section by April 30, 2015. I'll randomly choose and announce the two lucky winners the week of May 1, 2015.
For the chance to win even more books, go here to see a list of participating poets.
Thankful Thursday: Get A Mentor
Indexed by Jessica Hagy
I met my mentor in the middle of a hostage crisis.
As a SWAT team swarmed a ratty house in a forgotten field, I chatted up a colleague who would become a valuable mentor and, decades later, one of my closest friends.
Twenty years ago, she was a seasoned reporter for the state’s largest newspaper, and I was fresh from college, working as an over-eager, under-prepared reporter for a small town newspaper.
It didn’t seem right to chat and giggle in the middle of a gun-toting, armor-inducing situation, but it was a welcome relief to find an ally in the midst of this backwoods kind of crazy.
Aside from asking questions and taking notes, I didn’t know much. But I knew enough to keep my mouth shut and my eyes open. She’d worked for both small and large papers. She was smart and opinionated. She told stories of grouchy editors and wacky sources. She found life disgusting and delightful, in equal measure, and I aspired to be her.
Over the years, she nudged me toward better jobs and opportunities, and we grew into ourselves and our careers. In our own time, we each moved away from newspapers and into other media and marketing worlds. We shifted from mentor to colleagues to, ultimately, friends.
I've now known my mentor for half my life. And we now show ourselves more fully, not just the professional parts but our personal success and struggle too. We laugh a lot. We read newspapers and grumble. We drink martinis (which she taught me to enjoy: Bombay Saphire, shaken, hint of vermouth, three olives). We sigh.
Years ago when I stood in that field waiting for a man to come to his senses I had no idea I was meeting a person who would mark my life, and my heart.
Recently, I spent time with a young woman I met over a decade ago, when she was a high school student and I was a volunteer for a teen writing group. We’ve kept in touch over the years, through her first job, her first (and second) apartment, her marriage, her move out of state. We’ve shared poems, letters and life-changing decisions.
When we met for lunch, we hadn’t seen each other in several years. And yet we started just where we had left, chatting about books, art, clothes, love . . . I saw that she moved with more poise and spoke with greater assurance. She had grown into herself. This is how it feels, I thought, to witness a person becoming.
Wistful and proud, I was standing now on both sides of mentorship, grateful.
It's Thankful Thursday (on Friday), a weekly pause to express gratitude for people, places, things and more. Our joy contracts and expands in direct relation to our thankfulness. What are you thankful for today?
Be Who You Are
And now, a bit of Monday morning encouragement:
You're not a Pisces? You don't believe in horoscopes?
So what! This is universal advice — for free!
Read it, know it, live it.
Thankful Thursday (on Friday): Blooms
Photo by Jayne Guertin, Suburban Sililoquy
Star Magnolia.* Camellia. Crocus.
Lithodora. Narcissus. Hyacinth.
Bradford Pear. Crabapple. Cherry.
Everything is opening.
I'm strolling into spring with wide smile and dropped jaw. Blue skies. Sunny days. I'm practically skipping. Flowers bloom, days shine, and I'm one with Walt Whitman singing in spring. I embrace e.e. cumming's puddle wonderful world.
On this Thankful Thursday, I rejoice in these first blooms on this first day of spring.
It's Thankful Thursday, a weekly pause to express appreciation for all things, big and small. What are you thankful for today?
* Speaking of magnolia, don't you love that movie? Magnolia is one of my Top 10 Favorite Films.
On the Art of Being
Even now, as my life is
winding itself to a close,
I am learning and teaching and
loving life. Every. Single. Day.
- Currie Silver
When we read, creativity stirs.
And when we create, our lives expand.
That's why I ask writers and artists
to share with me books that have
informed their work and life.
The latest edition of 3 Good Books
features Currie Silver, a visual artist
with lung cancer who embodies the
the art of being.
Try This: Read, then Write
In late-winter, when the holiday glow is long gone and the promise of summer is impossible to hold, monotony can dull the senses.
We're in the middle of things, and my writing mind feels lazy. You too?
I'm doing my best to embrace practices that get me in the groove.
Lately I've started each writing session by reading the work of another poet. This allows me to slip into a new language and pace, which then informs my own writing. Many times the exercise yields blah blah blah, but I'm still exercising the writing muscle. Writing, even "bad writing," is never wasted.
I choose readings at random, paging through an anthology, and have been happy to discover new-to-me poems, some of which have led to "keeper" lines and poems of my own. Song by Adrienne Rich, and The Night, the Porch by Mark Strand have been especially inspiring.
Try this: Read someone else's work, then write something, anything, of your own.
Don't think, just write. Let the pen explore phrases, ideas and connections. See where the words take you. Don't try to make sense. Or do. Let go.
Reading other works sets a fresh tone and pace. You slip into a new cadence, and that allows the mind to explore new ground.
Try it, and let me know where this writing practice takes you.
Try these others too:
Try This: Month by Month
Try This: Postcard Poems
Try This: Alphabet Poem
Try This: Morning Read & Write
Try This: Book Spine Poetry
Try This: Poetry Poker
Both deep and oblique
The effect of landscape,
homescape, on me
is both deep and oblique . . .
It teaches me inclusiveness
and gratitude.
- Paulann Petersen
When we read, creativity stirs.
And when we create, our lives expand.
That's why I ask writers and artists
to share their favorite books.
The latest edition of 3 Good Books
features Paulann Petersen, who served
as Oregon Poet Laureate from 2010 to 2014.
Please join me.
Thankful Thursday: Are you in?
Everyone in!
From pebble to peak, from profound to profane, it's time again for Thankful Thursday.
Because attention attracts gratitude and gratitude expands joy, it's time to slice through the ugly and get to the good.
What you need now isn't the work
Of regret but the work of gratitude.
And all it takes to be grateful is to feel grateful.
Go back to the beginning and embrace its bounty.
Beneath the story of cause and consequence
Another story is pointing another way.
— Carl Dennis
excerpt from Not the End
Let's make a new story, start a new song. Are you in?
Another story
Morning sun. A distant view. Your voice.
After a season of doubt, a small certainty.
The crocus return, as they do, each late winter.
The sky clears, as it does.
A bluebird sails before me, catches my step.
This is not metaphor. This is Monday.
I know the ache of reaching to meet spring.
The beautiful ache.
- Drew Myron
It's Thankful Thursday. Please join me.
What are you thankful for today?
The words that weren’t
The mind reads and races, and sees what it wants to see.
Proof in this week's misreads:
• Cheapskate contends CEO stole data
should have been . . . Chesapeake contends CEO stole data
• Get ready for this weekend’s Supermom
was actually . . . Get ready for this weekend’s Supermoon
• Is it worth all the sweat and fears?
was actually . . . Is it worth all the sweat and tears?
Your turn. What are you (mis)reading?