Since sharing my poem above, I've been thinking that it doesn't adequately hold the tension between the strange beauty of the Helene-induced fairy rings in Kentucky and the devastation and loss in Florida, Georgia, and the Carolinas. That was all in my heart as I was writing the poem, but I don't feel like the words reflect it clearly enough. So here's an updated draft . . . and I am sure there will be more updates to come, even if they don't get shared here! If anyone wants to share feedback on the differences between the drafts, that's certainly appreciated. I have lots of room for learning and growing.
I loved the original (and understood your perspective even without the clarification), but this is stunning. You kept all of my favourite parts, and I love the addition of the second to last paragraph. I think it beautifully balances the tension.
I line the new version, Lisa, and feel it’s get closer to pinpointing that tension. The verse is sparse and so powerful in few words. “Somewhere the tables are smashed/There is no one/to sit in the chairs.”
I feel this so deeply, Larry! Thank you for putting words to the mix of grief, horror, paralysis, and intermittent checking out that are inside of me right now. This is beautiful and raw and powerful and true. And this line made me smile - "Send whispers of love that no shields can detect." I love the idea of my prayers sneaking past Israel's US-funded defense system and landing in someone's heart.
Thank you friend. I believe it is true==the tools of war and violence, might and aggression get smaller in the face of great love. Thank you for being one of my inspirations and touchpoints in my life.
I often feel inspired to write a quick poem that aligns on some gossamer tendril with the current thread.
Not today.
As I sit here in Laos eating my pho, I am being peppered by questions by two guides, both of whom spent years as Buddhist monks. I have no religion and they find that curious.
Thus, I’m in a different primary locus in my consciousness.
Nevertheless, I truly appreciate the poetry on this thread.
What an interesting and exciting context to find yourself in. Please eat an extra bowl of pho for me, Jim! I spent a summer in Vietnam long, long ago and hope to make it back someday.
Will be in Vietnam next week after visiting the killing fields of Cambodia. I believe to see reality one must acknowledge ALL the behaviors of humanity. Often death awaits after only a few steps on the path of life.
This is the second thing I've seen today about rain from Helene bringing fairy rings, and I don't know why, but I just love that. I also adore the imagery of the sea and sky spinning in circles together, like a dance. It's so difficult when there's so much harm done to see beauty in something like a hurricane, but it's a really incredible phenomenon, and it really is strange how something that can be so awful for some can also send out ripples that are helpful for others.
It's so strange how beauty and horror tend to mix together. And that's amazing that you're hearing about fairy rings from others, too! Since posting this poem I've been in a mild state of angst, worrying that maybe writing about fairy rings might land as painting over others' loss and suffering. So of course I'm playing with another draft that tries to hold that tension a little more clearly. I'll post it below in the comments if you're interested!
Thank you Lisa, for the poem and the prompt, for lifting up those affected by Helene across a wide swath of geography, and of our interconnectedness. Your words, heart and spirit are true treasures in my life, and your rippling has breadth and depth.
Forgive my self absorption but I have been struggling mightily with purpose lately so I took the idea of a ripple quite literally as I thought of the minute bit of influence or impact I may have on the small ones that I work with daily.
I love this Karri! Your presence and teaching with these dear ones will ripple out across lives and years, and make a difference impossible to perceive or uderstand now. What a gift you and the children are to each other.
Oh dear, I was actually going more of a cynical direction! I felt sheepish after reading your *truly* resilient and hopeful poem because it seemed my poem was like a dark rebuttal to yours. ;) But now in re-reading mine, I'm going to tweak a few words to make my meaning more clear.
Hah! I expect there is a lot at play here. World views, perceptions, the difference between intention and impact, and the ways that poetry, music and art can take lives and directions of their own once released into the universe! I have never perceived you as cynical—which feels different than outrage, indignation or disbelief at the madness all around. Thank you for your presence in the world!
My heart is so heavy for those affected by Helene and all of the devastation she has wrought. All the way over in Central AR, we just got a steady light rain on Friday. I hope any of our little group who were in the path are safe and didn't withstand too much damage.
Since sharing my poem above, I've been thinking that it doesn't adequately hold the tension between the strange beauty of the Helene-induced fairy rings in Kentucky and the devastation and loss in Florida, Georgia, and the Carolinas. That was all in my heart as I was writing the poem, but I don't feel like the words reflect it clearly enough. So here's an updated draft . . . and I am sure there will be more updates to come, even if they don't get shared here! If anyone wants to share feedback on the differences between the drafts, that's certainly appreciated. I have lots of room for learning and growing.
Somewhere over the Atlantic,
the sky picked up the ocean,
held it high,
and together they spun.
Somewhere under Appalachian soil,
mycelium waited for rain.
Helene twirled until she fell
in a flail of water
and a grapple of wind.
Somewhere, the tables are smashed.
There is no one
to sit in the chairs.
Somewhere mushrooms puff
like grounded clouds,
draw fairy rings shaped
to a hurricane’s eye.
I loved the original (and understood your perspective even without the clarification), but this is stunning. You kept all of my favourite parts, and I love the addition of the second to last paragraph. I think it beautifully balances the tension.
I line the new version, Lisa, and feel it’s get closer to pinpointing that tension. The verse is sparse and so powerful in few words. “Somewhere the tables are smashed/There is no one/to sit in the chairs.”
I feel the tension as well, and the stark contrast between the destruction and the fairy rings.
A poem birthed by today's prompt, and the news all around us.
^
A conversation with a student’s mother,
Palestinian natives who watch in horror
as their homeland is obliterated
by the masters of war.
They, like my Jewish, Lebanese and Ukrainian friends,
have lost family or had them go “missing.”
An ominous description that foreshadows the truth.
Each one lost is another broken heart,
each missing person a hole in another’s life,
each new attack a rain of death
that no gentle words can heal.
I turn away from the death and destruction
only to see flooded cities, battered homes
and broken persons caught in nature’s fiery retribution
for the extraction, the pillaging and the disregard.
Helplessness drapes me in sadness and grief;
A paralysis of resignation hampers my actions.
How long will this madness go on?
In this small moment, alone for a time
in a quiet sanctuary,
all I can do is pray.
Send whispers of love that no shields can detect.
Ring a bell for freedom that ears may hear,
a promise to insure my resistance
is a cataclysmic revolution of the values
we have known.
War begets war,
violence brings more violence,
destruction a cousin of death.
Love is a witness to a force more powerful
than any machinery concocted by the military madness,
rippling out into the universe, one heart at a time,
until each stone becomes a mountain,
each ocean a safe harbor for us all
I feel this so deeply, Larry! Thank you for putting words to the mix of grief, horror, paralysis, and intermittent checking out that are inside of me right now. This is beautiful and raw and powerful and true. And this line made me smile - "Send whispers of love that no shields can detect." I love the idea of my prayers sneaking past Israel's US-funded defense system and landing in someone's heart.
Thank you friend. I believe it is true==the tools of war and violence, might and aggression get smaller in the face of great love. Thank you for being one of my inspirations and touchpoints in my life.
This is so beautiful, Larry. It absolutely radiates hope and love.
Thank you Rebekah!
What a stunning, heartfelt hymn for the hurting. Thank you for putting to beautiful words what so man of us must feel <3
Thank you Karri for your kind comments.
I'm feeling at a loss for words, but I'm resonating and rippling right back, friend.
You'd think
For a folk that figured out
how to make a fastball atom
blow shit up
to kill all the people we don't like,
all at once,
it would be a no brainer
to knuckleball the punch out of these stupid ass hurricanes.
Maybe there's not enough revenge in the mix.
Not enough revenge, not enough profit, or both?
And a pinch or two of
pound-your-chest arrogance.
Phew.
I hear your perspective, Chuck, and it resonates.
I often feel inspired to write a quick poem that aligns on some gossamer tendril with the current thread.
Not today.
As I sit here in Laos eating my pho, I am being peppered by questions by two guides, both of whom spent years as Buddhist monks. I have no religion and they find that curious.
Thus, I’m in a different primary locus in my consciousness.
Nevertheless, I truly appreciate the poetry on this thread.
What an interesting and exciting context to find yourself in. Please eat an extra bowl of pho for me, Jim! I spent a summer in Vietnam long, long ago and hope to make it back someday.
Will be in Vietnam next week after visiting the killing fields of Cambodia. I believe to see reality one must acknowledge ALL the behaviors of humanity. Often death awaits after only a few steps on the path of life.
I absolutely agree with you, Jim. 💔
Done
This is the second thing I've seen today about rain from Helene bringing fairy rings, and I don't know why, but I just love that. I also adore the imagery of the sea and sky spinning in circles together, like a dance. It's so difficult when there's so much harm done to see beauty in something like a hurricane, but it's a really incredible phenomenon, and it really is strange how something that can be so awful for some can also send out ripples that are helpful for others.
It's so strange how beauty and horror tend to mix together. And that's amazing that you're hearing about fairy rings from others, too! Since posting this poem I've been in a mild state of angst, worrying that maybe writing about fairy rings might land as painting over others' loss and suffering. So of course I'm playing with another draft that tries to hold that tension a little more clearly. I'll post it below in the comments if you're interested!
I am always interested.
So well said, A.! I am resonating and rippling with you!
I loved the original, Lisa, but the updated one made me gasp. Thank you.
Thank you, Priscilla! I appreciate that feedback so much. Sometimes I edit a poem and then am unsure whether I've made it better or worse.
So very good. thanks
Thank you Lisa, for the poem and the prompt, for lifting up those affected by Helene across a wide swath of geography, and of our interconnectedness. Your words, heart and spirit are true treasures in my life, and your rippling has breadth and depth.
That opening stanza is just so gorgeous (and devastating).
Thank you, Margaret Ann!
Lovely! I may be quoting you, sooner, rather than later. Thanks for the gorgeous share! XO
Thank you so much, Danielle!
Forgive my self absorption but I have been struggling mightily with purpose lately so I took the idea of a ripple quite literally as I thought of the minute bit of influence or impact I may have on the small ones that I work with daily.
Little Pebbles
good morning...
how are you...
I like your shirt...
cool shoes...
great job...
why don't we try...
I like the way you...
oops, let's walk our feet...
good thinking...
thank you...
see you tomorrow...
...little pebbles....
...tossed in little ponds....
....create big ripples...
...that extend further than we can ever see.
I love this Karri! Your presence and teaching with these dear ones will ripple out across lives and years, and make a difference impossible to perceive or uderstand now. What a gift you and the children are to each other.
We are told about the walls
when we are babies and not yet
suckers for the theoretical.
Sure, we say, I am not you
and pi is not food —
good one. But the bricks
are laid for us until we are
the ones holding the trowel.
.
Now we hang our souls
at our margins like fladry
for the wolfen world, and say,
I am my lines and you
are yours, and no amount of pi
can collapse this construct,
and no amount of love
can blur it.
This is very nice, Rebekah. A poem with depth and feeling. These ending lines are superb:
"I am my lines and you
are yours, and no amount of pi
will collapse this construct,
and no amount of love will blur."
What a resilient and hopeful perspective and way to end a magical and powerful poem. Thank you!
Oh dear, I was actually going more of a cynical direction! I felt sheepish after reading your *truly* resilient and hopeful poem because it seemed my poem was like a dark rebuttal to yours. ;) But now in re-reading mine, I'm going to tweak a few words to make my meaning more clear.
Hah! I expect there is a lot at play here. World views, perceptions, the difference between intention and impact, and the ways that poetry, music and art can take lives and directions of their own once released into the universe! I have never perceived you as cynical—which feels different than outrage, indignation or disbelief at the madness all around. Thank you for your presence in the world!
My heart is so heavy for those affected by Helene and all of the devastation she has wrought. All the way over in Central AR, we just got a steady light rain on Friday. I hope any of our little group who were in the path are safe and didn't withstand too much damage.