Poetry Friday: "Emily Dickinson at the Poetry Slam"

I was whining earlier today that I didn't know what to do for Poetry Friday this week. I'm currently a zombie because I'm suffering — as I always do — from Christmas Sugar Syndrome. I lumber around in a stupor for several days because we indulge in too much delicious, mind-numbing sweetness. 

So, Ramona quickly composed this haiku and suggested a postponement: 

I had too much fudge. 

Come back next week for a poem. 

I'm on Christmas break. 

That was tempting. (As tempting as the chocolate itself.) But then, she also said, "Why not some Emily Dickinson?" For Christmas, Ramona gave me the beautiful Emily Dickinson book I shared above. As I was paging through random poems this morning, I was reminded of this Dickinson quote: 

“If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only way I know it. Is there any other way?”

She's just so good. (How's that for a writerly description?) 

And so, this poem by Dan Vera, which pulls it all together, is a right and proper fit for this week. Enjoy! 

Emily Dickinson and the Poetry Slam 

by Dan Vera 

I will tell you why she rarely ventured from her house. 

It happened like this:

One day she took the train to Boston,

made her way to the darkened room,

put her name down in cursive script

and waited her turn. 

When they read her name aloud

she made her way to the stage

straightened the papers in her hands —

pages and envelopes, the backs of grocery bills,

she closed her eyes for a minute,

took a breath, 

and began. 

From her mouth perfect words exploded,

intact formulas of light and darkness.

....

(Read the rest here, at The Poetry Foundation.) 

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The final Poetry Friday round-up of 2024 is 

being hosted by the lovely Michelle Kogan. 

Find her (and the Poetry Sisters, whose December Challenge was to write a Haibun) 

at Michelle's blog, here. 

Poetry Friday: "December" by Gary Johnson

This is a lovely, short, just-right piece. I especially like the last lines: 

And my hopes and fears are met/In this small singer holding onto my hand./Onward we go, faithfully, into the dark...

December
by Gary Johnson


A little girl is singing for the faithful to come ye
Joyful and triumphant, a song she loves,
And also the partridge in a pear tree
And the golden rings and the turtle doves.
In the dark streets, red lights and green and blue
Where the faithful live, some joyful, some troubled,
Enduring the cold and also the flu,

....

(Read the rest here.) 

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Join Jone for the Poetry Friday round-up this week. 

Happy December! (How is it almost over already?) 

Poetry Friday: "Looking at the Sky" by Anne Porter

I missed Poetry Friday last week. If you did too, check it out at Tanita Davis's {fiction, instead of lies}. The Poetry Pals used Jane Hirshfield's "Two Versions" as a mentor poem and crafted their own takes (inspired by Hirshfield's theme, structure, or lines). They created some stunners, so do hop over and read your way through those beauties. 

This week, Carol at The Apples in My Orchard is hosting. Carol has been caring for her aging father, spending 16½ hours on the road (in one day!) and dealing with a lot (I see you, Carol!) Send her some virtual hugs and love today and enjoy all the poetry she's rounded up for us here. 

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I missed PF last week because we spent Thursday and Friday out of town. My daughter and her husband hosted Thanksgiving. My middle daughter, whom I blog-named "Betsy Ray" (after our beloved Betsy in Maud Hart Lovelace's Betsy-Tacy books) was nine years old when I started this blog in late 2005. She was NINE. And now she and her husband are killing it as Thanksgiving hosts. We had a marvelous day and a marvelous meal. (I told her to marry a man who cooks, and she did. Yay!) The only parts of the meal we provided were the pumpkin pie (my mom's extra-spice recipe), gluten-free/dairy-free biscuits, and gf/df chocolate chip cookies. Anne-with-an-e (who was twelve when I started the blog — TWELVE!) and her fiance brought the dairy-free mashed potatoes, which Ramona (who was THREE when I started the blog) pronounced the best ever. When she was three, she didn't like "mashed-potatoes-with-the-skin-on, eww" but her culinary palate expanded over the years. Sadly for her, a few years back, just as she was perfecting the ultimate pepperjack grilled cheese sandwich with marinara dipping sauce, she needed to go gf/df, as Betsy had to a few years before. We're still working on perfecting the gf/df diet but overall we've made huge progress.

Aaaaaanyway...that's where I was last week. Enjoying the many pleasures of spending time with all my favorite people. Counting gifts and blessings. Giving thanks for beauty seen and unseen. "Looking at the Sky" and getting my thirst for a touch of heaven quenched. (Stealing the imagery of a thirst quenched from the last line of the poem. It's a short and perfect piece.) 

Looking at the Sky
by Anne Porter

I never will have time
I never will have time enough
To say
How beautiful it is
The way the moon
Floats in the air
As easily
And lightly as a bird
Although she is a world
Made all of stone.
....
(Read the second part here.) 

Photo courtesy of AdamNir, Pixabay.