Farewell Indian Summer

Day 259 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project, and David is reading Farewell Summer, by Ray Bradbury, a sequel to Dandelion Wine, and "good seasonal stuff."  He likes the titles of both books and says "the prose is poetic."

(I am linking you to the large-print paperback edition because it is easier to see the blowing seeds on the dandelion puff on the cover, and to read that it is the "eagerly-anticipated sequel."  Plus, I like the hourglass better than the mass market paperback's clock.  Plus plus, we don't get a lot of large-print paperbacks at Babbitt's, as we take what comes in, so here's your chance!)

Meanwhile, our Midwestern Indian Summer has lingered, but some much-needed rain has fallen, conveniently after most of the harvest.  Today will still be warm, and the rain may not come again till nightfall, as in Camelot.  The moon has moved from full to lopsided, high in the morning sky, the blue and white morning glories are open, and the sun is turning everything pale gold.

Yes, the pale gold of the cover of The Beforelife, by Franz Wright, a color more intense, book in hand, than here in the image.  I dimly remember reading about this book when it first came out, as an intense, terribly honest look at the legacy of abuse, at the self at rock bottom, and at some kind of redemption.  Yes, it is brutal and beautiful.

I wince to realize that the poet's father is poet James Wright, father of some lovely poems, but  also the father in "Primogeniture" who beat his son.  And the son says this:

and may my hand wither

may it forget how to write
if ever I strike a child.

(And fear not, it really does say "wither" in the book, not "whither," as in the Amazon review.  You think I should not be concerned with The Correct Spelling & Exact Meaning?  Oh, but I am!)

And, recalling a lovely conversation between people of different faith traditions, I offer Franz Wright's poem "Based on a Prayer by Rabi'a al-Adawiyya," whom he identifies as "an early Sufi poet.  She died in 801."

God, if I speak my love to you in fear of hell, incinerate me in it;
if I speak my love to you in hope of heaven, close it in my face.
But if I speak to you simply because you exist, cease
              withholding from me your
              neverending beauty.

Pencils & Punctuation Potpourri!

Day 219 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project, and, while I have finished reading The Correct Spelling & Exact Meaning, a book of poems by Richard Jones, I cannot part with the pencils!  You can click on sample poems on either of those links to book or poet at Copper Canyon Press.

I am preparing a poetry feature on Jones for Escape Into Life, where you can see all sorts of fabulous art and read wonderful essays.  Today's poetry feature is Diane Lockward!

As Wednesday is usually my hump-of-the-week hodgepodge of coincidii, today we get a pencil & punctuation potpourri:

1) Richard has a poem called "The Napkin." (So do I!) In it he mentions the Wailing Wall.  (So does Sue Monk Kidd, in The Secret Life of Bees, which I just finished!  In both cases, sad individuals cope by writing their troubles down on scraps of paper and tucking them into the cracks between stones.  Personal versions of the actual Wailing Wall.)

2)  Richard has a poem called "Walking in a Cemetery, My Children Ask about the Markings on Tombstones."  I have been in rehearsal for the annual local cemetery walk, and one year the guides focused on what the markings mean, and I have handled booklets about that where I work.  The poem is wonderful, of course, and does it in a poem-y way.

3)  Richard has a poem called "Affronts" that begins with a list of dislikes: "weeds, litter, graffiti, tattoos."  Of course he goes on to praise those things and would even forgive me the terrible affront of a word like "poem-y."  But the coincidence that tickles me is that he calls those blue roadside flowers at the edge of fields "cornflower," as do I.  They grow beside corn!  Officially they are chicory, but they are familiarly known as cornflower and are the cornflower blue of the Crayola crayon.  Another plant, also known as habry and bachelor's button is the official cornflower, as I understand it.  But I can tell from this poem that this "spindly yet thick-blooming blue weed" is the same one I know and love.

4) Many of the poems are about reading!  Reading the dictionary, for example.  And/or actual letters of the alphabet.  (See pencil alphabet above!)

5) There are short poems in the center of this book in tribute to and titled with pieces of punctuation:

&()!;:<>?-[sic]

I swear!

Correct Spelling

Day 218 of the "What are you reading, and why?" project and I am reading The Correct Spelling & Exact Meaning, by Richard Jones, because he is one of my favorite poets, and a mentor!

And because I love correct spelling, punctuation, and exact meaning.  I like the comma before the "and" in a list.  Business punctuation, that trend that took the comma out, destroys the exact meaning.  Sigh....

And I love these pencils, posted by Dorianne Laux at Facebook.  Another favorite poet.

And I love the alphabet.  And erasers.