Thursday, September 29, 2011
Hello all!
Welcome back to a whole new school year!
What does a new school year incite within us? Change, Beauty, Happiness, Grievances?
Maybe none of these or all of them?
No matter how you're feeling about the new school year, Linn Benton Community College's Poetry Club is here and waiting for you to come check us out.
Let me introduce myself.
My name is Mira, and I am the new communications officer, and I'm thrilled.
Our first meeting back was a huge success. We gained a new club officer (me!), discussed events and partnerships for the club, and got to know one another.
And thanks to LBCC poet laureate Ruth Krueger, we even established a prompt for the week.
"Change or change of season, literally or metaphorically."
September Visitors
I'm glad to see our friends come:
talk, laughter, food, wine.
I'm glad to see our friends go:
solitude, emptiness, gardens, autumn wind.
Please send me all poems, ideas, thoughts, videos, etc, so that we can share them here on the blog, or in the club!
We will see you Tuesday, from 3-4 at the Hot Shot cafe on the Albany campus!
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
--------------------
The summer days are coming at last, we can't hold them back. And that means our season of poetry clubbing has come to an end. Don't forget about the book signing on Thursday at 3:00 in the atrium of North Santiam Hall. It will be the final Poetry Club event of the year.
I want to thank everyone for the prompts, the personal feelings and ideas shared, the inspirations, the encouragement. I only wrote because you asked me to. I only promised that I would try. And in trying to write, I was forced to figure out whether or not I had anything worth saying. And I discovered that I did.
I was wrong last time. Whitney has one last prompt for us. It comes from the Mary Oliver poem above.
"What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"
That's your prompt for next year.
That's your prompt for the rest of your life.
Thanks Whitney. You were a really good poet laureate for us.
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
--------------------
The summer days are coming at last, we can't hold them back. And that means our season of poetry clubbing has come to an end. Don't forget about the book signing on Thursday at 3:00 in the atrium of North Santiam Hall. It will be the final Poetry Club event of the year.
I want to thank everyone for the prompts, the personal feelings and ideas shared, the inspirations, the encouragement. I only wrote because you asked me to. I only promised that I would try. And in trying to write, I was forced to figure out whether or not I had anything worth saying. And I discovered that I did.
I was wrong last time. Whitney has one last prompt for us. It comes from the Mary Oliver poem above.
"What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"
That's your prompt for next year.
That's your prompt for the rest of your life.
Thanks Whitney. You were a really good poet laureate for us.
by Turtle Shell
It takes a courageous person
to turn a train around.
The weight of sunk costs
builds a momentum quite profound.
It's a rare leader who
can turn to their followers and say:
"This course we've now been on so long
isn't the correct way."
They won't want to believe.
They'll rationalize and cleave.
No one wants to admit to being wrong.
But when truth confronts conviction,
then you'll see
either integrity,
or a need to be right that borders on addiction.
--------------------
This was our submission to The Commuter this week. I don't know whether or not they'll be publishing any more issues this year though, so this may well not be getting published.
It takes a courageous person
to turn a train around.
The weight of sunk costs
builds a momentum quite profound.
It's a rare leader who
can turn to their followers and say:
"This course we've now been on so long
isn't the correct way."
They won't want to believe.
They'll rationalize and cleave.
No one wants to admit to being wrong.
But when truth confronts conviction,
then you'll see
either integrity,
or a need to be right that borders on addiction.
--------------------
This was our submission to The Commuter this week. I don't know whether or not they'll be publishing any more issues this year though, so this may well not be getting published.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Leaving Spaces
by Kay Ryan
It takes a courageous
person to leave spaces
empty. Certainly any
artist in the Middle Ages
felt this timor, and quickly
covered space over
with griffins, sea serpents,
herbs and brilliant carpets
of flowers – things pleasant
or unpleasant, no matter.
Of course they were cowards
and patronized by cowards
who liked their swards as
filled with birds as leaves.
All of them believed in
sudden edges and completely
barren patches in the mind,
and they didn’t want to
think about them all the time.
--------------------
The final week of the year is at last upon us. This won't be the final update for the blog this year, but I won't be surprised if this is the final blog-post some of the Poetry Club blog's (no doubt incredibly numerous) followers read, since there aren't going to be any more prompts after this one and I'm well aware that prompt reminders are the primary draw to this site for many of you.
Let's not beat around the bush any longer. This week's prompt comes from the poem Leaving Spaces by Kay Ryan, and it goes a little something like this: "It takes a courageous person to _________". Like our "Grateful Word" prompt from back around Thanksgiving, you get to fill in your own blank. Hmm... that's kind of like a metaphor for life, isn't it. "You get to fill in your own blank." Or possibly a censored epithet. "Why don't you go fill in your own blank!" It's weird the places my mind wanders when I know I'm writing for a bunch of word-nerds. What was the point of this paragraph again?
"It takes a courageous person to _________"
Last one. Get to it.
by Kay Ryan
It takes a courageous
person to leave spaces
empty. Certainly any
artist in the Middle Ages
felt this timor, and quickly
covered space over
with griffins, sea serpents,
herbs and brilliant carpets
of flowers – things pleasant
or unpleasant, no matter.
Of course they were cowards
and patronized by cowards
who liked their swards as
filled with birds as leaves.
All of them believed in
sudden edges and completely
barren patches in the mind,
and they didn’t want to
think about them all the time.
--------------------
The final week of the year is at last upon us. This won't be the final update for the blog this year, but I won't be surprised if this is the final blog-post some of the Poetry Club blog's (no doubt incredibly numerous) followers read, since there aren't going to be any more prompts after this one and I'm well aware that prompt reminders are the primary draw to this site for many of you.
Let's not beat around the bush any longer. This week's prompt comes from the poem Leaving Spaces by Kay Ryan, and it goes a little something like this: "It takes a courageous person to _________". Like our "Grateful Word" prompt from back around Thanksgiving, you get to fill in your own blank. Hmm... that's kind of like a metaphor for life, isn't it. "You get to fill in your own blank." Or possibly a censored epithet. "Why don't you go fill in your own blank!" It's weird the places my mind wanders when I know I'm writing for a bunch of word-nerds. What was the point of this paragraph again?
"It takes a courageous person to _________"
Last one. Get to it.
by Turtle Shell
First and last
on every list
every day
is sleep.
You can kill yourself without dying
Cast your spirit into an unliving stupor
Too tired to focus, too depressed to care
Too desperate for any meager drops
of fun, or feeling,
to go to bed when you should.
Sleep deprivation
self-perpetuates.
For seven weeks
Winter term
Junior year
I was my own zombie horror flick
A stumbling, despondent parody of life
I am horrified that it took me so long to wake up.
I will never forget
I will never reprise
those dolorous delirious days.
So here is my second lesson:
First and last
on every list
every day
is sleep.
First and last
on every list
every day
is sleep.
You can kill yourself without dying
Cast your spirit into an unliving stupor
Too tired to focus, too depressed to care
Too desperate for any meager drops
of fun, or feeling,
to go to bed when you should.
Sleep deprivation
self-perpetuates.
For seven weeks
Winter term
Junior year
I was my own zombie horror flick
A stumbling, despondent parody of life
I am horrified that it took me so long to wake up.
I will never forget
I will never reprise
those dolorous delirious days.
So here is my second lesson:
First and last
on every list
every day
is sleep.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Alright, here's the second to last prompt for the year. It's not a line from a poem this time, but an instruction. Write a list of ten or eleven things you have to do tomorrow (it is suggested that the items be listed more abstractly than concretely), then pick one and write a poem about it.
Also, on June 4th from 1:00 to 4:00 PM, at Fireworks restaraunt there is going to be an Art for Hope benefit concert. We have been invited to have poets perform at the event. To do so, one would need to send a copy and or video of the poem to Abrianna Marie, the artistic director by May 28th. The link below apparently has more information.
https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=102896463135671
Also, on June 4th from 1:00 to 4:00 PM, at Fireworks restaraunt there is going to be an Art for Hope benefit concert. We have been invited to have poets perform at the event. To do so, one would need to send a copy and or video of the poem to Abrianna Marie, the artistic director by May 28th. The link below apparently has more information.
https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=102896463135671
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