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Morning Open Thread: The Joy That You Give to Others [1]
['This Content Is Not Subject To Review Daily Kos Staff Prior To Publication.']
Date: 2023-12-18
________________________ “What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness?” – Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Swiss-born philosopher and political theorist ________________________
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So grab your cuppa, and join in.
_______________________________
13 poets born at the turn of
December back toward the
light of a new beginning
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December 17
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1807 – John Greenleaf Whittier born in Haverhill, Massachusetts; American Quaker poet, writer, and abolitionist; remembered now for his anti-slavery writings, his long narrative poem Snow-Bound, and his poems “Barbara Frietchie” and “The Barefoot Boy.” Many of his poems became the lyrics for hymns, including “O Brother Man,” “All as God Wills” and “Children of God.” He was very supportive of women writers, particularly the novelist Sarah Orne Jewitt, who dedicated one of her books to him. He died at age 84 in September 1892. The cities of Whittier, California, and Whittier, Alaska, were named for him.
Somehow Not Only for Christmas
by John Greenleaf Whittier
Somehow not only for Christmas
But all the long year through,
The joy that you give to others
Is the joy that comes back to you.
And the more you spend in blessing
The poor and lonely and sad,
The more of your heart's possessing
Returns to make you glad.
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1938 – William J. Higginson born in New York City; American poet, translator, editor, non-fiction author, and publisher. He was a charter member of the Haiku Society of America, known for his work with haiku and renku, from which haiku has evolved. He attended the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, then joined the United States Air Force, and was sent by them to study Japanese at Yale University, where his interest in haiku began. He served for two years at Misawa Air Base in Japan in the early 1960s. After returning to the U.S., he earned a BA in English, then edited Haiku Magazine (1971-1976), and ran From Here Press, which published titles by Allen Ginsberg, Ruth Stone, and haikuist Elizabeth Searle Lamb. He died at age 69 in October 2008. Among his many books, The Haiku Handbook is one of the most widely read English language books on haiku.
Two Haiku
by William J. Higginson
grey dawn
ice on the seats
of the rowboat
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
the tick, tick
of snow on the reeds . . .
sparrow tracks
americanhaikuarchives.org
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1973 – Nadia Janice Brown born in Queens, NY to Jamaican immigrants; American poet and author. She now lives in Miami, Florida, and is the founder of Author & Book Promotions. Her poetry collections are Unscrambled Eggs and Becoming.
Unscrambled Eggs
by Nadia Brown
There are holes in my pockets the size of mountains
and I have no place to rest my hands
I spent more time dreaming
than living with purpose
though life is more obliging
over coffee and quiet toast
Peering through reverse mirrors
I watch as errant failures tidy their mistakes
but when will I learn
I can no more unscramble eggs
than change the past
In a place of solace
I sit on someone else’s chair
parting with habits I should have refused
trying not to feed on words
like if and only
steadily refilling holes
I once built
“Unscrambled Eggs” from Unscrambled Eggs, © 2016 by Nadia Janice Brown – lulu.com
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1987 – Joshua Jennifer Espinoza born in Riverside, California; she is a trangender woman, and a visiting professor of English at Occidental College in Los Angeles. Her poetry collections are There Should Be Flowers and I’m Alive. It Hurts. I Love It. Her latest collection, I Don’t Want To Be Understood, is due out in August 2024.
My First Love
by Joshua Jennifer Espinoza
My first love was silence.
I built myself from scratch
and no one listened.
This was the best time of my life.
I used to carry the clothes
to the laundry room
and pray for all the fog
in the world to surround me.
I’d let my thoughts
catch rides
with passing airplanes.
All that womanhood
caught in the roof
of my mouth
was like honey.
I knew it would never
go bad
so I never said a word
about it.
“My First Love” from There Should Be Flowers, © 2016 by Joshua Jennifer Espinoza – Civil Coping Mechanisms
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December 18
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2001 – Billie Eilish born as Billie Eilish Pirate Baird O'Connell in Los Angeles, California to parents who are actors and musicians; American singer and lyricist. She and her brother Finneas were homeschooled by their mother. Eilish began playing the ukulele at age 6, and joined the Los Angeles Children’s Chorus at age 8. She also wrote songs in collaboration with her brother. Her recordings of her brother’s songs “Ocean Eyes” and “Six Feet Under” led to her signing at age 15 by Interscope Records. She has since become a music industry phenomenon, with seven Grammys, three Brit Awards, a Golden Globe, and a joint Oscar for Best Original Song for “No Time to Die” with Finneas for the 2021 James Bond film of the same name.
No Time to Die
by Billie Eilish
I should've known
I'd leave alone
Just goes to show
That the blood you bleed
Is just the blood you owe
We were a pair
But I saw you there
Too much to bear
You were my life
But life is far away from fair
Was I stupid to love you?
Was I reckless to help?
Was it obvious to everybody else
That I'd fallen for a lie?
You were never on my side
Fool me once, fool me twice
Are you death or paradise?
Now you'll never see me cry
There's just no time to die
I let it burn
You're no longer my concern
Faces from my past return
Another lesson yet to learn
That I'd fallen for a lie
You were never on my side
Fool me once, fool me twice
Are you death or paradise?
Now you'll never see me cry
There's just no time to die
Fool me once, fool me twice
Are you death or paradise?
Now you'll never see me cry
There's just no time to die
Song “No Time to Die” by Billie Eilish and Fineas Baird O’Connell – © 2020 by Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing
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December 19
________________________________
1940 – Phil Ochs born in El Paso, Texas, American singer-songwriter, journalist, and anti-war and social justice activist, known for his songs “Draft Dodger Rag” “What Are You Fighting For?” and “I Ain’t Marching Anymore.” As a teenager, he was a clarinetist, and by age 16 he was a soloist with the Capital University Conservatory of Music in Ohio. But he was interested in politics and folk music, so he started The Word, an underground newspaper, and learned to play the guitar. Early in 1962, he moved to New York, and became part of the Greenwich Village folk music scene. By 1963, he was performing at Carnegie Hall. He wrote hundreds of songs, and released eight albums. But by 1975, he had fallen victim to depression, bipolar disorder, alcoholism, and paranoia. He committed suicide at age 35 in April 1976.
Where There's A Will There's A Way
by Phil Ochs
Religion!
In the town of Bethlehem many years ago
a man got religion and he changed the staus quo
He went around the countryside preaching brotherhood
and anyone who heard him, they knew and understood
Chorus:
Where there's a will there's a way
That's what I always say
We gotta make a try,
Come on, it's do or die.
Civil Rights!
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave
but in this land of freedom you will never find a slave
He fought for a cause, the cause of liberty
and if he heard this slogan, I am sure he would agree.
Patriotism!
Well there once were thirteen colonies that wanted to be free
they held a couple of meetings, they knew what had had to bethey picked a man named Washington to lead them into battle
He said: If we win, some day we'll have a World's Fair at Seattle.
And A Message!
Well in this troubled world of ours we face another threat,
these nuclear explosions, they're gonna kill us yet,
A-Bomb, H-Bomb, Neutron-Bomb, we must destroy them all,
we have got to rise together, or together we will fall.
“Where There's A Will There's A Way” by Phil Ochs was published in the Broadside December 1962 issue
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1970 – Deborah Paredez born in San Antonio, Texas; American poet, scholar, and critic. Her scholarly work, Selenidad: Selena, Latinos, and the Performance of Memory, was published in 2009, the same year she co-founded Canto Mundo, an organization and workshop to promote Latinx poetry. She has also published American Diva, about the impact of performers like Celia Cruz, Tina Turner, and Rita Moreno. She teaches poetry and ethnic studies at Columbia University. Her poetry collections are This Side of Skin and Year of the Dog.
Perseverance
18 February 2021
by Deborah Paredez
We've landed on the planet named after the god of war and the power's out
all over Texas my mother's buried under her grandmother's quilt while
they're looking for signs of life on the surface of the long-dried lake-bed
my cousins huddling around the clay pot heaters they've rigged from
overturned geraniums and the candles they keep lit for the dead the
heatshield reaching extreme temperatures in the final moments of descent
ice-sleeved branches cleaving from their trunks and downing communication
lines and lines and lines down the block for what's left of clean water in the
ancient river delta the rover arriving to drill down as scientists cheer in
control towers oil men feast and fatten their pockets craters across the
desolate expanse early transmission from the hazard avoidance camera
can't help but capture its own shadow darkening the foreground.
“Perseverance” © 2021 by Deborah Paredez – originally published at Poem-a-Day in June 2021, by the Academy of American Poets
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December 20
________________________________
1956 – Liz Waldner born in Cleveland, Ohio, but raised in rural Mississippi; American poet with an MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. She taught composition and poetry at Millsap College in Jackson, Mississippi, where she helped students start a recycling program, and was an advisor for the Rape Awareness office. She also taught at Tufts University, Bard College, Cornell College, and the College of Wooster. Her poetry collections include: Homing Devices; Self and Simaulacra; Saving the Appearances; Play; and Her Faithfulness.
Trust
by Liz Waldner
If I would be walking down the road
you told me to imagine, and I would and find
a diner kind of teacup sitting on its saucer
in the middle then I would feel so good
in my life that is just like mine
I would walk right up and look into my face
eclipsing the sky in the tea in the cup
and say, “Thank you, I have enjoyed
imagining all this.”
“Trust” from Trust, © 2009 by Liz Waldner – Cleveland State University Poetry Series LXXII
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December 21
________________________________
1940 – Kelly Cherry born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana; the daughter of musicians, she grew up in Ithaca, NY and Chesterfield County, Virginia; American novelist, poet, essayist, literary critic, translator, and memoirist. Poet Laureate of Virginia (2010-2012). She died at age 81 in March 2022. Her poetry collections include: Time Out of Mind; Lovers and Agnostics; Physics for Poets; Quartet for J. Robert Oppenheimer; and Beholder’s Eye.
On the Work Ethic
by Kelly Cherry
It’s not so much that you subscribe to it
As that your were enlisted in its rolls
From birth and knew you must find work and do it
As soon as you had finished playing dolls
(Although you still think wistfully of the one
With clear blue eyes and thick, black eyelashes,
Who’d wet her gown and cry until the moon
Turned off its light and left the window sashes
To shiver through a night of wind and snow.
Your doll was now fast asleep, dreaming of
Places she’d like, when she grew up, to go
In Santa’s sleigh, which paused on the roof
Of this tenement long ago to leave
You the windfall gift of a child to love.)
“On the Work Ethic,” © 2002 by Kelly Cherry, appeared in Poetry magazine’s July 2002 issue
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1944 – James Sallis born in Helena, Arkansas; American noir crime fiction author, short story writer, and poet. His novel The Killer is Dying won the 2011 Hammett Prize for excellence in crime fiction writing. He has worked as a creative writing teacher, respiratory therapist, musician, music teacher, screenwriter, periodical editor, book reviewer, and translator. His poetry collections include Sorrow’s Kitchen; Rain’s Eagerness; Black Night’s Gonna Catch Me Here; Ain’t Long Fore Day; and Night’s Pardons.
Traveling Light
by James Sallis
We are all guests in the language;
arrive at the border with
old schoolbooks, vaccination cards, comics
whose panels are drawn at strange angles.
How will you support yourself
while in our country? the guard asks.
Is this your first visit?
I will be earning American dollars
while here, one visitor answers. I offer
this letter of credit from my bank
in Argentina, another explains.
Once before here I have been.
These all seem to you good answers.
Now it is your turn. Words,
protect me! And if not words,
then all the possible misunderstandings.
“Traveling Light,” © 2002 by James Sallis, appeared the October 2002 issue of 3:AM Magazine
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December 22
________________________________
1869 – Edwin Arlington Robinson born in what is now Alna, Maine; prolific American poet and playwright; in 1922, he won the first Pulitzer Prize for Poetry awarded. He self-published his first two books, largely unnoticed until 1904, when Kermit Roosevelt gave Robinson’s second book, The Children of the Night, to his father, President Theodore Roosevelt. The President not only persuaded Charles Scribner’s Sons to republish the book, but also reviewed it himself for the Outlook, and arranged a sinecure for the poet at the New York Customs House —a post Robinson held until 1909. The two thousand dollar annual stipend gave him financial stability. It was the only sinecure political reformer Teddy Roosevelt ever granted. In 1910, Robinson dedicated his collection of poems, The Town Down the River, to Roosevelt. Robinson is now mostly remembered for his poem “Richard Corey,” but he published 28 volumes of poetry. His first Pulitzer Prize was followed by two others (1925 and 1928), and helped make him one of the few American poets to earn his living entirely from poetry. At age 55, Robinson fell ill with cancer, and spent his final hours in a hospital bed correcting galley proofs of his last poem, King Jasper, before slipping into a terminal coma in April, 1935. The national press mourned the passing of “America’s foremost poet” in editorials and obituaries.
Supremacy
by Edwin Arlington Robinson
There is a drear and lonely tract of hell
From all the common gloom removed afar:
A flat, sad land it is, where shadows are,
Whose lorn estate my verse may never tell.
I walked among them and I knew them well:
Men I had slandered on life's little star
For churls and sluggards; and I knew the scar
Upon their brows of woe ineffable.
But as I went majestic on my way,
Into the dark they vanished, one by one,
Till, with a shaft of God's eternal day,
The dream of all my glory was undone,—
And, with a fool's importunate dismay,
I heard the dead men singing in the sun.
“Supremacy” from Collected Poems of Edwin Arlington Robinson – Kessinger Publishing, 2007 edition
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1905 – Kenneth Rexroth born in South Bend, Indiana; American poet, translator, and critical essayist; “founding father” of the San Francisco Literary Renaissance. He was largely self-educated, learning several languages, and translated poems from Chinese, French, Spanish, and Japanese. He was a pacifist, who was a conscientious objector during WWII. In his last years, he promoted the work of American women poets, as well as translating and promoting the poetry of Chinese and Japanese women. He died of a heart attack at age 78 in June 1982. Among his many works are The Phoenix and the Tortoise; Love and the Turning; Flower Wreath Hill; Sacramental Acts; and Swords That Shall Not Strike.
Proust’s Madeleine
by Kenneth Rexroth
Somebody has given my
Baby daughter a box of
Old poker chips to play with.
Today she hands me one while
I am sitting with my tired
Brain at my desk. It is red.
On it is a picture of
An elk’s head and the letters
B.P.O.E.—a chip from
A small town Elks’ Club. I flip
It idly in the air and
Catch it and do a coin trick
To amuse my little girl.
Suddenly everything slips aside.
I see my father
Doing the very same thing,
Whistling “Beautiful Dreamer,”
His breath smelling richly
Of whiskey and cigars. I can
Hear him coming home drunk
From the Elks’ Club in Elkhart
Indiana, bumping the
Chairs in the dark. I can see
Him dying of cirrhosis
Of the liver and stomach
Ulcers and pneumonia,
Or, as he said on his deathbed, of
Crooked cards and straight whiskey,
Slow horses and fast women.
"Proust’s Madeleine" from The Collected Shorter Poems, © 1966 by Kenneth Rexroth – New Directions Publishing Corporation
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December 23
________________________________
1955 – Carol Ann Duffy born in Glasgow, Scotland; Scottish poet, playwright, and academic – the first woman, first Scot, and first openly LGBTQ person appointed as Britain’s Poet Laureate (2009-2019). Her 1985 poetry collection, Standing Female Nude, won the first of her three Scottish Arts Council Book Awards, Selling Manhattan (1987) won the Somerset Maugham Award, Mean Time (1993) won the Whitbread Poetry Prize, and Rapture (2005) won the T.S. Eliot Prize. She also won the 1995 Lannan Literary Award for Poetry. In Duffy’s The World’s Wife, she gives us a collection of modern versions of the old tales, with an unsettling feminist twist.
The Bee Carol
by Carol Ann Duffy
Silently on Christmas Eve,
the turn of midnight's key;
all the garden locked in ice –
a silver frieze –
except the winter cluster of the bees.
Flightless now and shivering,
around their Queen they cling;
every bee a gift of heat;
she will not freeze
within the winter cluster of the bees.
Bring me for my Christmas gift
a single golden jar;
let me taste the sweetness there,
but honey leave
to feed the winter cluster of the bees.
Come with me on Christmas Eve
to see the silent hive –
trembling stars cloistered above –
and then believe,
bless the winter cluster of the bees.
“The Bee Carol” from Collected Poems, © 2015 by Carol Ann Duffy – Picador/Pan Macmillan
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G’Morning/Afternoon/Evening MOTlies!
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[END]
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