So here's my poem from yesterday:
April 23rd, 2020
In my recording for my students
the Trojan princes are bickering as brothers will,
discussing the upcoming war
and how exactly they should proceed
and in the kitchen,
my husband is making coffee,
opening and closing drawers,
taking the whistling kettle off the stove.
Hector is angry because the others are
accusing him of only wanting to fight
because of his wife’s family,
or maybe just for his own glory,
and sister Cassandra is yelling prophecies,
which nobody takes seriously,
and old Antenor warns, from long experience,
that war isn’t a good thing for anyone,
and outside all the Trojans are fixing their armor,
reverberation of hammer on bronze,
and as I explain these events into my phone
for my students,
scattered by pandemic,
and not coming to my classroom today,
my husband pours cereal,
a soft crashing into the bowl,
and makes me a cup of tea,
a clatter of mug and tinkle of spoon,
and there’s a certain sort of pre-disaster chaos
in the morning air,
back then, but now too,
fraught as these dramatic yet ordinary moments inevitably are,
when we’re trying to carry on with life as normal
and we don’t have any idea
what’s coming next.
Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
After I wrote that poem, I saw this one by Joy Harjo posted on Facebook, and the two seemed to go together quite well, so here's that one too:
Perhaps the World Ends Here
by Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are bought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human.
Here's the rest.
Christie has today's roundup and also the lines for the Progressive Poem.
1 Donna Smith at Mainly Write
2 Irene Latham at Live Your Poem
3 Jone MacCulloch, deowriter
4 Liz Steinglass
5 Buffy Silverman
6 Kay McGriff at kaymcgriff
7 Catherine Flynn at Reading to the Core
8 Tara Smith at Going to Walden
9 Carol Varsalona at Beyond Literacy Link
10 Matt Forrest Esenwine at Radio, Rhythm, and Rhyme
11 Janet Fagel, hosted at Reflections on the Teche
12 Linda Mitchell at A Word Edgewise
13 Kat Apel at Kat’s Whiskers
14 Margaret at Reflections on the Teche
15 Leigh Anne Eck at A Day in the Life
16 Linda Baie at Teacher Dance
17 Heidi Mordhorst at My Juicy Little Universe
18 Mary Lee Hahn at A Year of Reading
19 Tabatha at Opposite of Indifference
20 Rose Cappelli at Imagine the Possibilities
21 Janice Scully at Salt City Verse
22 Julieanne Harmatz at To Read, To Write, To Be
23 Ruth at thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
24 Christie Wyman at Wondering and Wandering
25 Amy at The Poem Farm
26 Dani Burtsfield at Doing the Work That Matters
27 Robyn Hood Black at Life on the Deckle Edge
28 Jessica Big at TBD
29 Fran Haley at lit bits and pieces
30 Michelle Kogan at moreart4all
7 comments:
Great poem, Ruth -- the juggling of the ordinary/normal with the unexpected/anxiety over the future. Vivid images, and I like the sensory details (soft crashing of cereal).
I read Joy's poem this week too, and it reminded me of all the life that happens at the kitchen table! And yes, it does pair nicely with your life in the kitchen and the outside world. Nicely done.
I loved Joy's poem, a kind of centering for us when we do need it, like that "a clatter of mug and tinkle of spoon" from you, Ruth. Beautifully written, from the heart for all of us I think. I'm sorry for the increased cases in Haiti. Somehow I thought it would be better there. I hope you and your family will continue to be safe. Thanks for the poems.
Ruth, I enjoyed your narrative poem very much. A celebration of the senses along with the intermingling of past and present. I sensed chaos and calm juggling for attention in there as well. A most engaging observational poem capturing elements of your life, your day and the moments peppered through it.
No, "and we don’t have any idea
what’s coming next." So sad and true–beautiful searching, melancholic poem–especially effective flipping back and forth between the Trojan story and your kitchen table happenings. I've read Joy Harjo's poem before, it's sad and wonderful too! I recently read her poetry book, "An American Sunrise," it's very moving, though I had to read something a bit lighter while reading it, as we were already in the midsts of coronavirus. Thanks Ruth.
Joy's poem does pair well with yours. I love the juxtaposition of the ordinary (at least it seems ordinary until you remember these extraordinary times we are living in) with the lead up to the Trojan War. It seems life all over is full of those juxtapositions as we manage a new normal with the tragedy around us.
Ruth. (This is my serious voice.) Do you have a chapbook? I think you need to have a chapbook and I think I need to buy a copy—your poetry speaks to me so, the everyday immensity of it. Please work on that chapbook. :)
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