Author: Christina's Words

“The darkness around us is deep.” ~ William Stafford

On the Future of “Words for the Year” (a note from Christy and poem from Dorianne Laux)

On By Christina's WordsIn Blog News, Poetry16 Comments

It’s hard to believe that at the end of this month, Words for the Year will have published a poem or quote every day for two years.

What started as a small independent project–my diary captured in poetry–has grown into an intimate community of poetry and word lovers all via word of mouth and social media sharing. And I am grateful that the poems and words I’ve shared have helped so many of you, as they have helped me, especially in times of grief, depression and darkness.

The simple truth is I had planned to end this project at the end of this year. The more complicated truth is that I cannot. Poetry will always be a part of my life; it’s my lighthouse in times of darkness, and it’s an icon of beauty and gratitude to help me better appreciate the world around me and the moments (and people) I so often take for granted. Poetry is often my voice when I am without words. Poetry in general, and certain poems and poets, save my life, often.

And what I have learned is that I am not alone in this.

I have heard from many of you over the past two years. You have shared with me the very personal ways the poems you read here have helped you and healed you. YOU represent the reason I love doing Words for the Year.

And YOU are the reason I will KEEP doing Words for the Year.

At least for one more year anyway. 😉

I do plan to take a short break at the beginning of the new year. I’ll be back no later than April 1 (in time for National Poetry Month), but probably sooner than that.

Here’s where I need your help:

While I am on break, I may occasionally (re)post some of your favorite poems. Will you please leave a comment with a favorite poem you’ve read here on Words for the Year? Or if you have a favorite that we have not posted, let me know the name of the poem and the poet (and a link if available). Or you can leave me a private message via our contact page, here. If you have feedback or ideas for the new year, please feel free to share that also. If you read only by email, you are welcome to email me: wordsfortheweekend@gmail.com .

To the poets, writers, artists, publishers and copyright holders who have allowed me (or who haven’t disallowed me) to share your work, my deep gratitude and thanks. Your work matters. You matter.

To my readers and friends, thank you for all of your support. To each of you, I dedicate a Dorianne Laux poem (one of the poems–and favorite poets–that saves my life). I originally shared it on Words on March 19, 2014.

“For the Sake of Strangers” by Dorianne Laux

No matter what the grief, its weight,
we are obliged to carry it.
We rise and gather momentum, the dull strength
that pushes us through crowds.
And then the young boy gives me directions
so avidly. A woman holds the glass door open,
waits patiently for my empty body to pass through.
All day it continues, each kindness
reaching toward another – a stranger
singing to no one as I pass on the path, trees
offering their blossoms, a retarded child
who lifts his almond eyes and smiles.
Somehow they always find me, seem even
to be waiting, determined to keep me
from myself, from the thing that calls to me
as it must have once called to them –
this temptation to step off the edge
and fall weightless, away from the world.

 “For the Sake of Strangers” by Dorianne Laux, from What We Carry, 1994. 

 

Your turn . . . What’s one (or more) of your favorite poems?  No need to answer right away. I’ll keep comments open until April.  ~ Christy

P.S. – For readers who follow our Apocalypse Love Story featuring Sam & Dave (it began on our sister site, Words for the Weekend), we have exciting news! Sam, Dave and friends will soon have their own home at The Lovely Fire. It’s under construction, but you are more than welcome to visit and sign up for future posts.

 

“The Gauze of Flowers, A Love Poem” by Olena Kalytiak Davis

On By Christina's WordsIn Music, Poetry

Remember when we couldn’t name it
because it was a meadow
wild with tulips, both bright
as snow and dull as fire?
Driving in circles to find
the right spot for our love, then
using a chair? My heart was still
an artichoke, layered and prickly
But you kept making me nest my face
in that one thick bouquet.

And just this morning my love
was briefly stuck in my throat
as I remember all the soil
and sadness, remembered seeing you
on certain streets and corners, remembered
all the rubble and clang. Remember

how it is and isn’t fragile?
How it speaks in ears and fingers
takes days and hours still
it wants nothing and it wants more?

And just this morning
the flowers you brought home drank
in the sunrise, they fleshed themselves out
the way people do, shaking
the cold from their collars
as they move toward the fire,
rubbing together their hands, kindling
it back. Some days

we want our love to be fleshy.
But some days it’s transparent.
It’s like gauze.
It is and isn’t fragile.

I dare you to name it.
I dare you to remember
the rubble and clang.

”

— Olena Kalytiak Davis, “The Gauze of Flowers, A Love Poem”, in
And Her Soul Out of Nothing (The University of Wisconsin Press, 1997)

 

*

 

“The Flowers” by Regina Spektor
“Things I have loved, I’m allowed to keep . . .”

 

“Breath” by Kabir

On By Christina's WordsIn Poetry4 Comments

Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat.
My shoulder is against yours.
You will not find me in stupas, not in Indian shrine rooms,
nor in synagogues, nor in cathedrals:
not in masses, nor in kirtans, not in legs winding around your
own neck, nor in eating nothing but vegetables.
When you really look for me, you will see me instantly—
you will find me in the tiniest house of time.
Kabir says: Student, tell me what is God?
He is the breath inside the breath.

(as translated by Robert Bly, Kabir: Ecstatic Poems)

“Sweetness” by Stephen Dunn

On By Christina's WordsIn Poetry5 Comments

Just when it has seemed I couldn’t bear
one more friend
waking with a tumor, one more maniac

with a perfect reason, often a sweetness
has come
and changed nothing in the world

except the way I stumbled through it,
for a while lost
in the ignorance of loving

someone or something, the world shrunk
to mouth-size,
hand-size, and never seeming small.

I acknowledge there is no sweetness
that doesn’t leave a stain,
no sweetness that’s ever sufficiently sweet.

Tonight a friend called to say his lover
was killed in a car
he was driving. His voice was low

and guttural, he repeated what he needed
to repeat, and I repeated
the one or two words we have for such grief

until we were speaking only in tones.
Often a sweetness comes
as if on loan, stays just long enough

to make sense of what it means to be alive,
then returns to its dark
source. As for me, I don’t care

where it’s been, or what bitter road
it’s traveled
to come so far, to taste so good.

“Sweetness” by Stephen Dunn from New and Selected Poems. © Norton, 1994.

“The Good News” by Thich Nhat Hanh

On By Christina's WordsIn Poetry3 Comments

They don’t publish
the good news.
The good news is published
by us.
We have a special edition every moment,
and we need you to read it.
The good news is that you are alive,
and the linden tree is still there,
standing firm in the harsh Winter.
The good news is that you have wonderful eyes
to touch the blue sky.
The good news is that your child is there before you,
and your arms are available:
hugging is possible.
They only print what is wrong.
Look at each of our special editions.
We always offer the things that are not wrong.
We want you to benefit from them
and help protect them.
The dandelion is there by the sidewalk,
smiling its wondrous smile,
singing the song of eternity.
Listen! You have ears that can hear it.
Bow your head.
Listen to it.
Leave behind the world of sorrow
and preoccupation
and get free.
The latest good news
is that you can do it.

– Thich Nhat Hanh