Poetry

The Mnemosyne Weekly: Poem Thirty-Nine (Amichai)

San Carlos Wildflowers John Fowler This week I've fallen in love with a new (to me) poet, Yehuda Amichai, whose selected poems I picked up at Half Price Books a few weeks ago and have been devouring...

The Mnemosyne Weekly: Poem Thirty-Eight (Adair)

  Photo Credit: ESA/Hubble A star-forming region in the Large Magellanic Cloud This week's poem, "Riding a Koan," by Virginia Hamilton Adair, moves me for so many reasons. I love the way it sustains the extended metaphor...

The Art of Noticing

“The range of what we think and do is limited by what we fail to notice.” ---Joseph Campbell Our multi-tasking/sound bite/microwave/remote-control culture encourages Noise instead of Noticing; Entertainment, not Engagement.  We have instant everything, from messages...

The Mnemosyne Weekly: Poem Thirty-Seven (Reznikoff)

The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth by Jennie A. Brownscombe This week for Mnemosyne I've selected, "Te Deum," a simple little poem of praise in honor of Thanksgiving. The poet, Charles Reznikoff  lived from 1894 - 1976 and was...

The Mnemosyne Weekly: Poem Thirty-Six (MacLeish)

A Black Bird With Snow Covered Red Hills by Georgia O'Keeffe Well, we've all got our ideas about what a poem should be--at least in my fantasy world, where everyone cares about poetry enough to debate...

The Mnemosyne Weekly: Poem Thirty-Five (Millay)

Nana Édouard Manet Oil on Canvas, 1877 This week's poem, "First Fig," by the ever clever Edna St. Vincent Millay, is quite different from the other short poems I've memorized in that the others have had a...

“A Prayer for Platelets”

I. Bruised Did you bump into something—a table’s edge or a low bench? That’s a nasty one: bluish-purple with greenish-yellow. More than a week’s time, still fading. I am delicate, easily bruised, like a peach left on the counter to ripen.   II. Scarred After the last time, I waited eight...

The Mnemosyne Weekly: Poem Thirty-Four (Rengetsu)

Image by 松岡明芳 Poem by Ōtagaki Rengetsu I found this week's poem in a beautiful little book called Lotus Moon: The Poetry of the Buddhist Nun Rengetsu, translated by the Eastern philosophy professor, John Stevens. The poet, Ōtagaki Rengetsu lived from 1791...

addendum: on i-it and the god we repress

god is the between of an i and a thou, and it is precisely this existential dialogue with all that exists, our "essential deed" as buber called it, that which we repress within us...

The Mnemosyne Weekly: Poem Thirty-Three (Nye)

Original Post: http://melissastuddard.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-mnemosyne-weekly-poem-thirty-three.html Pierre-Auguste Renoir Onions I'm always a fan of that which praises something humble--in this case, the onion of Renoir's still and of Naomi Shihab Nye's beautiful poem, "The Traveling Onion." Leave it to a poet to look at...