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Morning Open Thread: Have You Forgotten What We Were Like Then? [1]
['This Content Is Not Subject To Review Daily Kos Staff Prior To Publication.']
Date: 2023-06-26
“If your daily life seems poor, do not
blame it; blame yourself that you are
not poet enough to call forth its riches;
for the Creator, there is no poverty.”
– Rainer Maria Rilke
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Welcome to Morning Open Thread, a daily post
with a MOTley crew of hosts who choose the topic
for the day's posting. We support our community,
invite and share ideas, and encourage thoughtful,
respectful dialogue in an open forum. That’s a
feature, not a bug. Other than that, site rulz rule.
So grab your cuppa, and join in.
______________________
13 poets with birthdays
this week, from a Thai
court poet to a they/them
performance artist
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June 25
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1898 – Kay Sage born in Albany, New York, into a wealthy timber industry family industry; American Surrealist artist and poet. After her parents divorced, she and her mother lived in Rapallo, Italy, and traveled. Kay became fluent in French and Italian. She studied painting in the U.S. and Rome, but developed her own distinctive style. After a failed marriage, she moved to Paris, was exposed to works by early Surrealists. She fell in love with artist Yves Tanguy, who was separated, but not yet divorced, from his first wife. Just before Germany invaded Poland in 1939, she returned to the U.S., and helped other Surrealist painters, including Tanguy, to immigrate to the U.S., arranging exhibitions of their work. She moved to Woodbury, Connecticut. Tanguy died in 1955. Her cataracts made painting difficult, and surgery was only marginally successful. She began writing poetry, mostly in French. Sage committed suicide in January 1963 at age 64.
In the Mirror
by Kay Sage
Do not look
at yourself
always
in the same
mirror.
“In the Mirror” from The More I Wonder, © 1957 by Kay Sage Tanguy – Bookman Associates
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1926 – Ingeborg Bachmann born in Klagenfurt, near the Slovenian border; Austrian poet, radio scriptwriter, prose author, and short story writer. After WWII, she was a scriptwriter and editor at the Allied radio station Rot-Weiss-Rot in Vienna. She moved to Rome in 1953. Bachmann won the 1971 Anton Wildgrans Prize, a juried prize given to writers of Austrian citizenship. In her later years, she battled addiction to alcohol, prescription painkillers, and nicotine. In September 1973, she was badly burned in a fire started by a cigarette, and died at age 47 in October 1973.
I Step Outside Myself
by Ingeborg Bachmann
I step outside
myself, out of my eyes,
hands, mouth, outside
of myself I
step, a bundle
of goodness and godliness
that must make good
this devilry
that has happened.
“I Step Outside Myself” from Songs in Flight: The Collected Poems of Ingeborg Bachmann – Marsilio Publishing, 1995 Bilingual Edition
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June 26
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1786 – Sunthorn Phu born as Phra Sunthonwohan, Thailand’s best-known royal poet, during the Rattanakosin Period (1782-1932). He was a government clerk when he was discovered in an illicit relationship with a lady of the royal court (forbidden between commoner and aristocrat) and sent to prison, but was pardoned and released in 1806. King Rama II ascended the throne in 1809, and was so taken with Phu’s poems that he gave Phu a position at court as ‘literary-friend’ of the King. He served the Rama until the king’s death in 1824, when Phu became a monk. Twenty years later, in the reign of King Rama III, he returned to court as a royal scribe, where he remained until his death at age 69 in 1855. Phu’s epic poetry is still popular in Thailand today. Sunthorn Phu was declared a World Poet by UNESCO in 1986.
by Sunthorn Phu
We may be drunk,
But we are also intoxicated by love.
I cannot resist my heart.
And though we are drunk,
Tomorrow the sun will shine,
And that drunkenness will have passed.
But when night falls, the intoxication of love will return.
– translator not credited
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1915 – Charlotte Zolotow born in Norfolk, Virginia; prolific American children’s author, poet, editor, and children’s book publisher; known for her children’s book When the Wind Stops. She died at age 98 in November 2013. Her poetry collections include All That Sunlight; River Winding; Snippits; and Seasons. The Chalotte Zolotow Award is an annual award for the best picture book text in the U.S.
So Will I
by Charlotte Zolotow
My grandfather remembers long ago
the white Queen Anne's lace that grew wild.
He remembers the buttercups and goldenrod
from when he was a child.
He remembers long ago
the white snow falling falling.
He remembers the bluebird and thrush
at twilight
calling calling.
He remembers long ago
the new moon in the summer sky.
He remembers the wind in the trees
and its long, rising sigh.
And so will I
so will I.
“So Will I” from River Winding, © 1971 by Charlotte Zolotow – Abelard-Schuman
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1936 – Nancy Willard born in Ann Arbor, Michigan; prolific American novelist, poet, and children’s book author and illustrator; won the 1982 Newberry Medal for A Visit to William Blake’s Inn. Her many poetry collections include Skin of Grace; Swimming Lessons; and The Sea at Truro. Willard died at age 80 in February 2017.
The Vanity of the Dragonfly
by Nancy Willard
The dragonfly at rest on the doorbell—
too weak to ring and glad of it,
but well mannered and cautious,
thinking it best to observe us quietly
before flying in, and who knows if he will find
the way out? Cautious of traps, this one.
A winged cross, plain, the body straight
as a thermometer, the old glass kind
that could kill us with mercury if our teeth
did not respect its brittle body. Slim as an eel
but a solitary glider, a pilot without bombs
or weapons, and wings clear and small as a wish
to see over our heads, to see the whole picture.
And when our gaze grazes over it and moves on,
the dragonfly changes its clothes,
sheds its old skin, shriveled like laundry,
and steps forth, polished black, with two
circles buttoned like epaulettes taking the last space
at the edge of its eyes.
“The Vanity of the Dragonfly” from The Sea at Truro, © 2012 by Nancy Willard – Alfred A. Knopf
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June 27
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1872 – Paul Lawrence Dunbar born in Dayton, Ohio, to parents who were slaves before the Civil War; author and poet, one of the first African-American poets who gained national attention and acclaim. He was helped by Orville Wright and the owner of United Brethren Publishing to get his first poetry collection Oak and Ivy published in 1893, and two other Dayton Residents, lawyer Charles Thatcher and psychiatrist Henry Tobey, teamed to publish his second book, Majors and Minors. Thatcher and Tobey also helped him meet an agent, and to book public readings. His Lyrics of Lowly Life sold well enough for Dunbar to go to England, where he found a British publisher for that book. In 1897, he became a clerk at the Library of Congress. He wrote Folks From Dixie, a short story collection, while working there. But he began to have lung problems which led to tuberculosis, and he left his position in 1898. He continued to write, but died of tuberculosis at age 33. His poetry collections include Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow and Lyrics of the Hearthside.
Preparation
by Paul Lawrence Dunbar
The little bird sits in the nest and sings
A shy, soft song to the morning light;
And it flutters a little and prunes its wings.
The song is halting and poor and brief,
And the fluttering wings scarce stir a leaf;
But the note is a prelude to sweeter things,
And the busy bill and the flutter slight
Are proving the wings for a bolder flight!
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1926 – Frank O’Hara born in Baltimore, Maryland; American author, poet, and art critic. This date is not his actual birthday – his parents hid his March birth because it predated their marriage. During WWII, he was a sonarman aboard a destroyer in the Pacific war, then went to Harvard on the GI Bill, where Edward Gorey was his roommate. O’Hara taught at the New School, and worked as a clerk at New York’s Museum of Modern Art before becoming an assistant curator in 1960. He had a long relationship with poet and screenwriter Joe LeSueur, but was also involved with Canadian ballet dancer Vincent Warren, painter Larry Rivers, and many others. On July 24, 1966, in the early morning hours, on the beach at Fire Island he was struck by a jeep, and died the following day at age 40. His poetry collections include A City Winter and Other Poems; Oranges: 12 pastorals; Meditations in an Emergency; and Lunch Poems.
Animals
by Frank O’Hara
Have you forgotten what we were like then
when we were still first rate
and the day came fat with an apple in its mouth
it's no use worrying about Time
but we did have a few tricks up our sleeves
and turned some sharp corners
the whole pasture looked like our meal
we didn't need speedometers
we could manage cocktails out of ice and water
I wouldn't want to be faster
or greener than now if you were with me O you
were the best of all my days
[1950]
“Animals” from The Collected Poems of Frank O’Hara, © 1971 by Maureen Granville-Smith – Alfred A. Knopf, Inc.
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1936 – Lucille Clifton born in Depew in northern New York state; prolific American author, poet and educator, Poet Laureate of Maryland (1979-1985); her work celebrates her African-American heritage and chronicles her experiences as a woman. She won the 1984 Coretta Scott King Award for Everett Anderson’s Good-bye; the 2000 National Book Award for Poetry for Blessing the Boats; the 2007 Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize for lifetime achievement; and the 2010 Frost Medal for lifetime achievement. She died of cancer at age 73 in February 2010. Her poetry collections include Two-Headed Woman; Next; Quilting; The Book of Light; Mercy; and Voices.
homage to my hips
by Lucille Clifton
these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!
“homage to my hips” from Good Woman, © 1987 by Lucille Clifton – Curtis Brown, Ltd.
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June 28
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1887 – Floyd Dell born, American novelist, playwright, poet, and journalist; pro-feminist and radical liberal editor of The Masses (1914-1917). In 1917, after the Espionage Act passed, the Post Office notified the magazine it was banned from the mails for its outspoken opposition to U.S. involvement in WWI. The Masses challenged the ban and won, but lost on appeal, after the government officially labeled the magazine “treasonable material” in August 1917, issuing charges against its staff for “unlawfully and willfully… obstruct[ing] the recruiting and enlistment of the United States” military. After three days of deliberation, the jury was unable to come to a unanimous decision, because of one juror, who was a socialist. Not only did the other eleven jurors demand the prosecutor levy charges against the lone juror, they attempted to drag him out into the street and lynch him. The Judge, given the uproar, declared a mistrial. A second trial also resulted in a deadlocked jury. While no one was convicted, the magazine folded. During the Depression, Floyd Dell joined the WPA, then worked for the U.S Information Service from 1935 through WWII. Dell wrote Women as World Builders; Intellectual Vagabondage; Upton Sinclair: A Study in Social Protest; Love in the Machine Age; and Homecoming: An Autobiography. Floyd Dell died in July, 1969, at age 82.
Apologia
by Floyd Dell
I think I have no soul,
Having instead two hands, sensitive and curious,
And ten subtle and inquisitive fingers
Which reach out continually into the world,
Touching and handling all things.
The fascination of objects!-
The marvelous shapes!
Contours of faces and of dispositions,
Hearts that are tender or rough to the touch,
The smooth soft fabrics in which lives go clothed―
Hope and pity and passion:
All these as I touch them delight and enchant me,
And I think I could go on touching them forever.
But the impulse comes into the nerves of my fingers,
Into the muscles of my hands,
To give back this beauty in some shape
Confessional of joy.
And so I make these toys.
“Apologia” appeared in Poetry magazine’s May 1915 issue
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June 29
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1798 – Giacomo Leopardi born in Recanati, in the Marche region, ruled by the papacy at the time; Italian poet, scholar, philosopher, and essayist; considered the best 19th century Italian lyrical poet, he was also one of the most radical and challenging thinkers. His father, Count Monaldo Leopard, a reactionary, was determined to maintain the status quo, so Giacomo’s first tutors were priests. He enhanced his limited education by reading voraciously. His health was fragile, as he suffered from a spinal inflammation, but he attempted to leave his stifling home in his late teens. His father forced his return. Even a visit to his uncle in Rome was a disappointment – there he saw corruption and decadence, and the hypocrisy of the Catholic Church. From 1824 on, he spent time in Milan, Bologna, and Florence, finding kindred spirits among the liberals and republicans trying to liberate Italy from Austria. His health grew worse, and he moved to Naples, but died there at age 38 in 1837 during a cholera epidemic. His poetical works include The Canti; The Idilli; The Canzoni; and Operette morali.
The Infinite (XII)
by Giacomo Leopardi
It was always dear to me, this solitary hill,
and this hedgerow here, that closes off my view,
from so much of the ultimate horizon.
But sitting here, and watching here,
in thought, I create interminable spaces,
greater than human silences, and deepest
quiet, where the heart barely fails to terrify.
When I hear the wind, blowing among these leaves,
I go on to compare that infinite silence
with this voice, and I remember the eternal
and the dead seasons, and the living present,
and its sound, so that in this immensity
my thoughts are drowned, and shipwreck
seems sweet to me in this sea.
“The Infinite” from The Canti – translated by A.S. Kline, © 2003
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June 30
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1911 – Czeslaw Milosz born in Šeteniai, Kovno Governorate, Russian Empire (now part of Lithuania); prolific Polish poet, author, translator, and diplomat. Regarded as one of the great poets of the 20th century, he won the 1980 Nobel Prize in Literature. His father was a Polish civil engineer, and his mother was from a distinguished Polish-Lithuanian family. He survived the German occupation of Warsaw during WWII, and helped save some Jews from the Warsaw Ghetto. He was a cultural attaché for the Polish government during the postwar period. When communist authorities threatened him, he defected to France, then to exile in the U.S., becoming a professor at the University of California, Berkeley, and a naturalized U.S. citizen. His work was banned in Poland for three decades. His poetry and his nonfiction book, The Captive Mind, made him a leading émigré artist and intellectual in the West. After the 1989 fall of communism in Poland, he divided his time between the U.S. and Kraków. He died at age 93 in August 2004 in Kraków. His poetry collections include Trzy zimy (Three Winters); Na brzegu rzeki (Facing the River); and Druga przestrzen (The Second Space).
An Hour
by Czeslaw Milosz
Leaves glowing in the sun, zealous hum of bumblebees,
From afar, from somewhere beyond the river, echoes of lingering voices
And the unhurried sounds of a hammer gave joy not only to me.
Before the five senses were opened, and earlier than any beginning
They waited, ready, for all those who would call themselves mortals,
So that they might praise, as I do, life, that is, happiness.
“An Hour” from The Collected Poems 1931-1987, © 1988 by Czeslaw Milosz – Harper Collins
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July 1
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1949 – Denis Johnson born in Munich, Germany; American novelist, short story writer, poet, essayist, and playwright. His father was a liaison between the U.S. Information Agency and the CIA, and they also lived in the Philippines and Japan. Johnson earned an MFA in 1974 from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, where he studied with Raymond Carver. Known for his 1969 debut short story collection Jesus’ Son, and his novel Tree of Smoke, winner of the 2007 National Book Award for Fiction. He struggled with alcohol and drugs in the 1970s and early 80s, but was sober by 1983. In “Bikers for Jesus” he called himself "a Christian convert, but one of the airy, sophisticated kind." Johnson died at age 67 of liver cancer in May 2017. His poetry collections include Inner Weather; The Incognito Lounge; and Last Night I Dreamed I Was in Mexico.
from Quickly Aging Here
by Denis Johnson
i wonder about everything: birds
clamber south, your car
kaputs in a blazing, dusty
nowhere, things happen, and constantly you
wish for your slight home, for
your wife’s rusted
voice slamming around the kitchen. so few
of us wonder why
we crowded, as strange,
monstrous bodies, blindly into one
another till the bed
choked, and our range
of impossible maneuvers was gone,
but isn’t it because by dissolving like so
much dust into the sheets we are crowding
south, into the kitchen, into
nowhere?
“Quickly Aging Here” from The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations Millennium General Assembly: Poems Collected and New, © 1995 by Denis Johnson – HarperCollins Publishers
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1991 – Alok Vaid-Menon (they/them) born in College Station, Texas, child of immigrant parents from Malaysia and India; American performance artist, poet, and LGBTQ+ activist; author of Femme in Public and Beyond the Gender Binary.
2020 Resolutions
by Alok Vaid-Menon
1. return to the basics: the lungs, they are for breathing. the heart, it is for forgiving.
2. remain porous through the pain. a broken heart is an invitation: there is space here, inside.
3. your life is your greatest romance. so, speak roses. make every conversation a ceremony.
4. amidst diffused despair, harvest hope. cultivate idealism. wear them like heirlooms.
5. become indelible. linger in everything you touch.
6. permanence is unambitious. nothing is fixed. things don’t die, they go somewhere else.
7. “natural” & “reality” are political aesthetics. birth new worlds. every pattern can be unwoven.
8. language is bewitching, but do not mistake talking about the thing as doing the thing.
9. comparison is creativity’s curse. genius is the ability to orbit elsewhere, imagine otherwise.
10. even trash is teeming with life. surrender to your insignificance & find your magic there.
11. empathy is a daily baptism, but do not confuse bartering your dignity as compromise.
“2020 Resolutions” © 2020 by Alok Vaid-Menon
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G’Morning/Afternoon/Evening MOTlies!
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[END]
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