Tag Archives: poetry

You Can’t

10 June 2022Uncategorizedculture, music, poetry, politics, society, toleranceSaul

An epiphany this morning regarding boundaries, and representation, and dreams of an open society: you can’t sing along with every word of every song. (Note: this isn’t just about art.)

You — each and every one of us, including you — can’t sing along with every word of every song: not in empathy or sympathy, not in solidarity, not in homage. They are available for us to hear, to appreciate, but not to share.

Some of us believe, if we can’t sing along with every word of a song, that something must be wrong: the song should not have been so composed, or ever sung in our hearing, or the words should be given over to us even though they are not ours to sing.

But I want to live surrounded by great art, including art which isn’t for me or about me, except as another human being. When someone invites you to listen to a song, and you discover that you can’t sing along with every word, be even more grateful for the invitation to listen. It’s hard enough for us to know each other, without some of us always being talked over, or being shut out, or having to hide.

If I Must

2 May 2017My Own Private Judaeo-hope, language, love, poetry, religion, societySaul

My god’s name is Love — some say “Lehovah.”
But though nômen ômen est, a word’s
not in the sound but in the speaking;
not in the letters but the reading.
And Moses stuttered.

‘ou gar eisin duo ê polloi synagomenoi eis
to emon onoma, ekei eimi en mesôi autôn

[4 December 1999]

The Voice of the Riot

14 August 2014Uncategorizedpoetry, politics, societySaul

Property is an agreement.
Security is an agreement.
We bear the burden of your
prosperity, your impunity
out of fear, out of habit,
out of misdirected hope.
But we are many and we are
your sisters and your brothers
and there are always other
agreements to be reached.

Ain’t that a Great Saying

16 June 2014Uncategorizedfamily, Father's Day, grief, hope, Kate Bush, Milena, music, poetry, religionSaul

In my town of Prairie Village, where Cherokee Lane completes its winding climb up from Tomahawk Creek to 75th Street, there stands in a median an unintended shrine. Two unnamed goddesses, though I think of them as Demeter and Persephone, flank a large plaque naming the neighborhood behind them (Prairie Hills) all surrounded by a bit of garden. Until yesterday, behind the plaque stood an enormous conical evergreen, which some years someone arranged to have lit for Christmas. Seeing the tree gone, I thought how outliving anything is a mark of longevity but also a notice. The bell tolls for all yall. Continue reading Ain’t that a Great Saying →

The Far Shores of the Day

29 May 2014Uncategorizedgrief, hope, love, Maya Angelou, poetry, season, weddingsSaul

This is the season for weddings. I have been to one this year and will, gods also willing, be to another a month from now: a fit cap to the month named for Juno Pronuba. I have word of others going on around me, and that is well. I also have word of others of the United States (though not yet mine) being told by judges that states may not grant civil marriage recognition to some couples and not others. That too is well. I stand with you, who uniquely yearn, in Love’s House. Continue reading The Far Shores of the Day →

Never Again

28 April 2014Uncategorizedculture, grief, history, poetry, politics, religion, society, toleranceSaul

…what, exactly?
Intensively? Extensively?
Gradually? Abruptly?
Publicly? Privately?
Overtly? Covertly?
Legally? Militarily?
Economically? Agriculturally?
Maliciously? Foolishly?
Preventively? Vengefully?
Coldly? Hotly?
Carefully? Wildly?
Exploitatively? Wastefully?
Forcefully? Weakly?
Greedily? Fearfully?
Expulsively? Expansively?
Yours? Mine?

Herbsttag | Harvestday

12 September 2013Uncategorizedlanguage, poetry, Rilke, seasonSaul

By my calendar, summer is already a month and more gone. But we approach the peak of autumn and the weather is catching up to the sun. This is a favorite poem of mine. I have been lonely and alone and neither need be terrible. But I am glad now, daily, not to be.

This is a Tolkienesque translation, though I did not construct any cognates.

Original German by Rainer Maria Rilke, 21 September 1902, in Paris.

Herr, es ist Zeit. Der Sommer war sehr groß.	Lord, it ist tide. The summer was very great.
Leg deinen Schatten auf die Sonnenuhren,	Lay thine shadow on the sunclocks,
und auf den Fluren lass die Winde los.	and on the floors let the winds loose.

Befiehl den letzten Früchten, voll zu sein;	Command the last fruits, full to be;
gib ihnen noch zwei südlichere Tage,	give them yet two southerly days,
dränge sie zur Vollendung hin, und jage	thring them to wholeness thither, and chase
die letzte Süße in den schweren Wein.	the last sweetness in the sweer wine.

Wer jetzt kein Haus hat, baut sich keines mehr.	Who yet no house hath, buildeth him no more.
Wer jetzt allein ist, wird es lange bleiben,	Who yet alone ist, will it long belive,
wird wachen, lesen, lange Briefe schreiben	will wake, read, long briefs script
und wird in den Alleen hin und her	and will in the alleys here and there
unruhig wandern, wenn die Blätter treiben.	unroolie wander, when the blades drift.

Afterglow

5 July 2011UncategorizedpoetrySaul

For all the glory of the thunderous blooms,
I love the lingering glitter of the leaves
on half-lit weeping willows of smoke.

I’ve Got the Will to Drive Myself Sleepless

4 July 2007Uncategorizedchildhood, Eliot, English, high school, poetry, Prufrock, sleepSaul

One thing I should clear up first: I am not J. Alfred Prufrock, nor do I wish to seem to be. I didn’t discover T.S. Eliot in a high-school English class, and I don’t view that one poem as some kind of modern scripture, to be iconized or somehow lived by or even just to wear as some kind of badge.

But given that blogs are generally communicated by means of patterns on a screen, referring to mine as a magic lantern seemed irresistible.

Continue reading I’ve Got the Will to Drive Myself Sleepless →

A Magic Lantern

Nerves Thrown in Patterns on a Screen