Very fine. I appreciate the stripped down. The last five years Ive written more laconically than I ever have, and have a whole section called "The Non- Nature Black Lives Matters Hybrid Haikus "in my soon-to be published first book of poetry. Some examples.
I often try to ditch the "little words" used too much in ficton too, to smooth out " the FIELD" for
readers. I marvel how often FIRES AND THEIR AFTERMATHS crackled through your works. Some memories never burn out and who knows if they dont even stay with us at the finale maybe like fireworks that want to continue to have fun with us and amaze kin or else decide we might need some extra warmth
Jun 7, 2023·edited Jun 7, 2023Liked by Sherman Alexie
Thanks for your quick response, Sherman! First, I understand that an Artist need not explain their work. So, I appreciate you taking the time to respond to my comment. I truly appreciate your art!
Second, I also appreciate science and art equally. And my comment comes more from the science side.
I love this poem - except for one word. "Need." There's a reason I feel so strongly about removing this word when placed in direct context to the word "Want." There's a big difference between the two words. For me at least, it 'popped the magic bubble' that the poem otherwise created. Ask me more ONLY if you're truly curious about the meaning and difference between the two words. And Sherman, I'm open to learning why you chose to put these two words together as you did. I can learn from you. Perhaps it's your intention to create this sort of tension (or in my case, friction).
The human family, wounded as we are, finds imperfection in the personal, apathy towards the collective.
If we could only be like flowers and ferns addressing the greening of Spring with a resounding,
YES!
This yes is celebratory of all. This yes is filled with gratitude to have this rare opportunity to simply be.
St.Hildegard had a theology of life affirming itself by the pliant 'greening' of life as opposed to a 'dry toast' theology of guilt, shame and all the baggage contained with Augustine's monumental 'roofer's mistake' of original sin.
We are original goodness, the energy we receive is that of greening through love. The Great Creator dances life and we dance with it.
Not having guilt or shame, flowers and ferns cast no dispersion onto other beings, they simply green and blush beauty in forests, mountains, plains, deserts everywhere!
The next time you are at the brunt of negativity try this if you would like:
- Remember original goodness
- Remember the sacred energy of greening
-Remember that the accuser knows not your circumstance, pray for them to find life affirmation again and drop the detritus of cold, stiff, and death- defining statements and perhaps outlook on life.
- Remember this time will pass, life flows, life dances,100 years from now this moment will be forgotten.
What a wonderful poem. I love being able to read them and listen to you read them. It's amazing how reading a poem can indicate what needs to be changed. I wonder was it the word, want, you changed?
My house has had two direct lightning hits over about twenty years. The last one, about nine months ago, blew our telephone apart (yes, I live in a rural location so still have the mythical land line). My husband was within a few feet of the detonating plastic, so it was a bit of a shock (he was not hurt).
I think so many us feel like a lone tree that endures, hiding our wounds inside. We think everyone is else is doing better than us, but we're all papering over our scars, and doing our best day to day.
Thank you. Two strikes! I just remembered that I was semi-close to a strike. It hit one of the transformers in our neighborhood. Knocked out power for a couple of days. And we live in Seattle but we keep a landline, as well.
Jun 7, 2023·edited Jun 7, 2023Liked by Sherman Alexie
The insides of us hold so much heat and no one can really tell; everyone wants us not to stay so long in flames... I was once told my face was "too sad" after losing a very close friend...
I like this Niner---I dig poem forms.
My guess is maybe your first line used to be: "You're alone, tree, still..."
Have you ever had the reknowned Eastern European soup BORSCHT?
It's a hearty rich soup especialy super in winters. And it's not bad served almost ice cold in the summer , redolent of a sister soup called SHAV whose main ingredent is SORREL, which gives a nice tart zing- kick to it. Add a little chopped egg or some inveterate and inevitable Eastern European sour cream and you can outlast any hellish day over one hundred degrees
But what about the BEET POETS? There were quite a few of them, but (I'm fussy) the ones who truly had that inner beat radiating out were Ginsberg, Gregory Corso, Diana Di Prima ( Revolutionary Letters handed Frank Ohara and most of the "beat" AND ny poets thei lunch), and the two most , to this day, underrated poets- Bob Kauffman (Solitudes of Loneiness, Cranial Guitars) and Sotere Torregian, one of our greatest surrealists. Most of the others rode Ginsberg's coattails .
I have had Borscht, years ago. Didn't do it for me. But, the Beet poets, yes! And....dare I say...the Beetles/aka Beatals (sic). I met Ginsberg at the Dodge Poetry festival in Waterloo Village, NJ many years ago; he was into singing about quitting smoking! I'll check out Kauffman and Torregian. Thanks for the recommendations.
I love the name Lone Tree. I wrote a short story called The Lone Taurus at the Little Big Horn. It will appear in the summer issue of Montana Quarterly magazine.
Very fine. I appreciate the stripped down. The last five years Ive written more laconically than I ever have, and have a whole section called "The Non- Nature Black Lives Matters Hybrid Haikus "in my soon-to be published first book of poetry. Some examples.
Prelude: Malcolm X
Bonfire eyes blaze
Devour whole libraries
Read the riot act
Tamir Price
I like playing here.
Bang. Bang. Bang.GOTCHA!
Hi, officer I was just-
The Department of Deportaton Deportment
We clean your toilets,
Your lawns, your kids too.
When we're gone, what will you do?
On the Plus Side ( to my wife)
You arrive so alive
The full moon's astonished.
A glow claims the world.
I have some suggestions:
You're a lone tree still
standing after lightning
strikes. It appears
You've endured
the worst. Peel back
the bark.You'll see
flames of want, need
doubt burning you
inside out
I often try to ditch the "little words" used too much in ficton too, to smooth out " the FIELD" for
readers. I marvel how often FIRES AND THEIR AFTERMATHS crackled through your works. Some memories never burn out and who knows if they dont even stay with us at the finale maybe like fireworks that want to continue to have fun with us and amaze kin or else decide we might need some extra warmth
I like this.
Tamir's last name is/was Rice.
Go for it.
I once believed myself the proverbial "lone wolf". I remember that flame.
I think the word is peel. Actually I don’t have the slightest idea
I changed “fear” to “want”
Love hearing you read them!
Thanks, Blake!
Thanks for your quick response, Sherman! First, I understand that an Artist need not explain their work. So, I appreciate you taking the time to respond to my comment. I truly appreciate your art!
Second, I also appreciate science and art equally. And my comment comes more from the science side.
Essentially, the word "Want" is infinite and insatiable. Whereas, the word "Need" means something specific as you can read here in my Substack: https://xmentor.substack.com/p/the-x-mentor-needs
Again, I appreciate you and your work! Nothing but the highest respect for the art you create!
You're welcome.
I love this poem - except for one word. "Need." There's a reason I feel so strongly about removing this word when placed in direct context to the word "Want." There's a big difference between the two words. For me at least, it 'popped the magic bubble' that the poem otherwise created. Ask me more ONLY if you're truly curious about the meaning and difference between the two words. And Sherman, I'm open to learning why you chose to put these two words together as you did. I can learn from you. Perhaps it's your intention to create this sort of tension (or in my case, friction).
I used both because they are not the same. I want and I need are distinctly different desires. Different flames.
A metaphor of endurance and what lies beneath in the search for resilience.
Thank you, Mary.
Your poem has special meaning for me right now. Thank you. (I'm a tree lover since childhood.)
Thank you, Penelope.
The poem below belongs to Jason Grundstrom-Whitney. A white person raised by an indigenous mother.
Ferns and Flowers:
The miracle of Spring
Is the regenerative heart
Of our Sacred Mother.
All beings blush
With the rush
Of greening,
Ferns and flowers
Sway in the breeze
Talking in tones
Inaudible to us
But as loud as a single dewdrop
Falling from the bell-blossom of
Mountain laurel
Deafening!
........
The human family, wounded as we are, finds imperfection in the personal, apathy towards the collective.
If we could only be like flowers and ferns addressing the greening of Spring with a resounding,
YES!
This yes is celebratory of all. This yes is filled with gratitude to have this rare opportunity to simply be.
St.Hildegard had a theology of life affirming itself by the pliant 'greening' of life as opposed to a 'dry toast' theology of guilt, shame and all the baggage contained with Augustine's monumental 'roofer's mistake' of original sin.
We are original goodness, the energy we receive is that of greening through love. The Great Creator dances life and we dance with it.
Not having guilt or shame, flowers and ferns cast no dispersion onto other beings, they simply green and blush beauty in forests, mountains, plains, deserts everywhere!
The next time you are at the brunt of negativity try this if you would like:
- Remember original goodness
- Remember the sacred energy of greening
-Remember that the accuser knows not your circumstance, pray for them to find life affirmation again and drop the detritus of cold, stiff, and death- defining statements and perhaps outlook on life.
- Remember this time will pass, life flows, life dances,100 years from now this moment will be forgotten.
Koselomol,
little brother of dust
I like the "deafening" as an ending.
I wondered how you would respond. 🙏🏽 Thank you
What a wonderful poem. I love being able to read them and listen to you read them. It's amazing how reading a poem can indicate what needs to be changed. I wonder was it the word, want, you changed?
My house has had two direct lightning hits over about twenty years. The last one, about nine months ago, blew our telephone apart (yes, I live in a rural location so still have the mythical land line). My husband was within a few feet of the detonating plastic, so it was a bit of a shock (he was not hurt).
I think so many us feel like a lone tree that endures, hiding our wounds inside. We think everyone is else is doing better than us, but we're all papering over our scars, and doing our best day to day.
Thank you. Two strikes! I just remembered that I was semi-close to a strike. It hit one of the transformers in our neighborhood. Knocked out power for a couple of days. And we live in Seattle but we keep a landline, as well.
It was "doubt". Whatever you had in there before, it wasn't doubt, because you wanted to tie it all in with "out."
Nope, wasn't doubt. I changed "fear" to "want."
I like that!
The insides of us hold so much heat and no one can really tell; everyone wants us not to stay so long in flames... I was once told my face was "too sad" after losing a very close friend...
I like this Niner---I dig poem forms.
My guess is maybe your first line used to be: "You're alone, tree, still..."
Or maybe, "peel back" instead of "peel off"?
(Feeling a tad obsessed in the guessing!)
Thank you. I changed "fear" to "want."
Has anyone ever told you that you’re good at this writing stuff?? 😉😊🙏❤️
Ha! Thank you!
I love trees, lightning, and poems. But hate beets.
Ditto!
I am anti-beet, as well.
What is it about beets? Love them raw, grated, in salads. But cooked? BLECH
Have you ever had the reknowned Eastern European soup BORSCHT?
It's a hearty rich soup especialy super in winters. And it's not bad served almost ice cold in the summer , redolent of a sister soup called SHAV whose main ingredent is SORREL, which gives a nice tart zing- kick to it. Add a little chopped egg or some inveterate and inevitable Eastern European sour cream and you can outlast any hellish day over one hundred degrees
But what about the BEET POETS? There were quite a few of them, but (I'm fussy) the ones who truly had that inner beat radiating out were Ginsberg, Gregory Corso, Diana Di Prima ( Revolutionary Letters handed Frank Ohara and most of the "beat" AND ny poets thei lunch), and the two most , to this day, underrated poets- Bob Kauffman (Solitudes of Loneiness, Cranial Guitars) and Sotere Torregian, one of our greatest surrealists. Most of the others rode Ginsberg's coattails .
I have had Borscht, years ago. Didn't do it for me. But, the Beet poets, yes! And....dare I say...the Beetles/aka Beatals (sic). I met Ginsberg at the Dodge Poetry festival in Waterloo Village, NJ many years ago; he was into singing about quitting smoking! I'll check out Kauffman and Torregian. Thanks for the recommendations.
I love the name Lone Tree. I wrote a short story called The Lone Taurus at the Little Big Horn. It will appear in the summer issue of Montana Quarterly magazine.
Congratulations! I love lone tree as a name.
oooof. I love this.
Thank you, Hannah.