06 Jul 2016
by jeannepoland
in Eternal Vigilance, Poetry
Tags: Anne Tayler, day or night, Eternal Vigilance, Hilary Mantel, inspiration, live other lives, Louis Levy Lima
illustration by Louis Levy Lima
.
Hilary Mantel
recently wrote: “The most frequent question writers are asked is some variant on, ‘Do you write every day, or do you just wait for inspiration to strike?’ I want to snarl, ‘Of course I write every day, what do you think I am, some kind of hobbyist?’ But I understand the question is really about the central mystery — what is inspiration? Eternal vigilance, in my opinion. Being on the watch for your material, day or night, asleep or awake.”
“I want to live other lives. I’ve never quite believed that one chance is all I get. Writing is my way of making other chances.” —Anne Tyler
03 Jul 2016
by jeannepoland
in Poetry
Internet Portal to Patient’s Private Room
Charts to encourage patient interaction
Patient:
There are an endless supply of professionals from the Phillipines to minister to the endless details required!
Today I’m home to my very own personally styled rehab!
30 Jun 2016
by jeannepoland
in Poetry, Warblers
Tags: even the little ones know how to read maps, Jim Harrison, Language is the only Homeland, Warblers
Even the little ones know how to read maps!
“Language is the only Homeland” Czeslaw Milosz
.
Warbler
by Jim Harrison
This year we have two gorgeous
yellow warblers nesting in the honeysuckle bush.
The other day I stuck my head in the bush.
The nestlings weigh one-twentieth of an ounce,
about the size of a honeybee. We stared at
each other, startled by our existence.
In a month or so, when they reach the size
of bumblebees they’ll fly to Costa Rica without a map.
“Warbler” by Jim Harrison from Dead Man’s Float. © Copper Canyon Press, 2016.
29 Jun 2016
by jeannepoland
in A Hundred Seventy Five Years Old, Poetry
Tags: A Hundred Seventy Five Years Old, couple of drinks, damnable war, energetic, felt light, Marriage by Jim Harrison, mere seventy-five, serious argument, seventy-fifth birthday, trust the government, veterans, went to bed
Marriage
by Jim Harrison
I just remembered a serious argument.
On my seventy-fifth birthday I had the firm sense
that I was a hundred seventy-five. She disagreed.
“Look at your driver’s license,” she said. I said you know
the state of Montana took my license from me. She
went to my briefcase and got out my passport.
“You’re a mere seventy-five,” she said.
I said, “How can you trust the government
in this important matter?” I went to bed
after a couple of drinks believing I was a hundred
seventy-five. In the morning I felt
only seventy-five and apologized at breakfast.
I’d lost a hundred years and felt light,
younger, more energetic. As a boy I saw in Life
magazine photos of the Civil War veterans. I don’t
think there are any left, are there?
They would have to be a hundred seventy-five.
Sometimes I remember aspects of that damnable war.
“Marriage” by Jim Harrison from Dead Man’s Float. © Copper Canyon Press, 2016. Reprinted with permission.
26 Jun 2016
by jeannepoland
in afraid, Poetry
Tags: 2010, 2016, a country, a snap, afraid, bless you, carried, crossed, For My Yound Friends Who Are Afraid, in your eye, not go away, slip of your foot, we all live there, William Stafford
2010
2016
.
For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid
by William Stafford
There is a country to cross you will
find in the corner of your eye, in
the quick slip of your foot—air far
down, a snap that might have caught.
And maybe for you, for me, a high, passing
voice that finds its way by being
afraid. That country is there, for us,
carried as it is crossed. What you fear
will not go away: it will take you into
yourself and bless you and keep you.
That’s the world, and we all live there.
“For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid” by William Stafford from The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems. © Graywolf Press, 1998
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