Sunday morning poetry and music

As I sit to try and write something for this morning, I realize that rather than having anything meaningful to share, I’m needing some nourishment myself. I’ve spent alot of time this week watching the convention and thinking about electoral politics. And as Nightprowlkitty and Jay Elias so beautifully captured – some of us have experienced a journey between head and heart…and it has been draining for me.

In addition to that, we know that Gustav is bearing down on the Gulf Coast. That not only brings concerns about the welfare of people who are most vulnerable in that region, it rekindles memories of all the horrors of Katrina.

Finally, I am deeply disappointed already in the gestapo-like tactics my city seems to be employing to deal with potential protesters at the RNC. Due to the nature of my work over the last 20 years, many of the people involved in the city, law enforcement, and courts are friends of mine. I had hoped that they and my home town would rise above what we have seen from other cities in the past. It looks like that will not be the case. I know its happened before, but this time its personal for me.

All these things combine to leave me feeling a bit empty this morning. So I thought that perhaps the best thing I could do is to try to fill myself up with music and poetry. While I’m at it – I’ll share it with you.

Here’s one from Marge Piercy.

A just anger

Anger shines through me.

Anger shines through me.

I am a burning bush.

My rage is a cloud of flame.

My rage is a cloud of flame

in which I walk

seeking justice

like a precipice.

How the streets

of the iron city

flicker, flicker,

and the dirty air


Anger storms

between me and things,



A good anger acted upon

is beautiful as lightning

and swift with power.

A good anger swallowed,

a good anger swallowed

clots the blood

to slime.

And here’s David Whyte.

Imagine My Surprise

Imagine my surprise;

sitting a full hour

in silent and irremediable

fear of the world,

to find the body


its own fear the instant

it opened and placed

those unassuming hands

on life’s enduring pain,

and the world for one


closed its terrifying eyes

in gratitude.


“This is my body, I am found.”

And finally, one from Mary Oliver.

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.


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    • Robyn on August 31, 2008 at 17:24

  1. And to let Eva Cassidy continue:

    • scribe on August 31, 2008 at 17:50

    wise ancestors know

    your weariness, your thirst

    they say come rest now

    eat and drink deeply

    refresh your soul

    all who labor day in day out

    to add light to the dark

    who feel so deeply the world’s pain

    honor you own precious selves

    for Oneness often hurts


    • kj on August 31, 2008 at 17:54

    story about the kitty, who i caught ‘inappropriately’ peeing the other night, and looking into new vets, and then googling all the latest news on what is apparently a hot topic among animal lovers and vets… the differences between vet v dry v raw foods for cats.  lol

    anyway, will take her into the vet on Tuesday morning and hope all she has is a bladder infection.  will transition her to wet food (poor kitty is dehydrated!) and then might make the jump to raw food. nothing is too good for this rapscallion.  sigh.  (thank goddess i have a job and have a choice in this matter!)

    it’s been a welcome respite from news about Gustav, which is scaring the shit out of everyone.

    read where McCain’s team might turn their convention into a telephone thingy to raise cash for Red Cross.  jbk’s response to that was, “Yeah, raise $$ from the poor, who WILL give, instead of tapping the fat cats at the convention.”   so sarcasm and cynicism is still alive in these parts.

    please click on the NENA link below.

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