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Sunday, October 27, 2019

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"East River" by Lola Ridge

Posted: 26 Oct 2019 03:00 AM PDT

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October 26, 2019
 

East River

 
Lola Ridge

Dour river
Jaded with monotony of lights
Diving off mast heads….
Lights mad with creating in a river... turning its sullen back....
Heave up, river…
Vomit back into the darkness your spawn of light…
The night will gut what you give her.

 
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This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on October 26, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.
"East River" by Lola Ridge

About this Poem

 

"East River" originally appeared in Sun-up, and Other Poems (New York, B.W. Huebsch, inc., 1920).
Lola Ridge
 

Lola Ridge was born in Dublin on December 12, 1873. Her books include Sun-Up and Other Poems (New York, B.W. Huebsch, inc., 1920) and Red Flag (1927). She was the recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship in 1935 and the Shelley Memorial Award in 1936. She died on May 19, 1941.

more-at-poets
Collected Early Works

Poetry by Ridge

 

Collected Early Works 
(Little Island Press, 2019) 

"Listening in the Dark" by Meg Day

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"The Fish" by Marianne Moore

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"Searching for Light" by Yao Feng

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October Guest Editor: Oliver de la Paz

 

Thanks to Oliver de la Paz, author of five collections of poetry, including The Boy in the Labyrinth (University of Akron Press, 2019), who curated Poem-a-Day for this month's weekdays. Read a Q&A with Paz about his curatorial approach this month and find out more about our guest editors for the year.
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Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit poets.org

 

Unsubscribe here.

 

© Academy of American Poets
75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038
 
 

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"Magnitude and Bond" by Nicole Terez Dutton

Posted: 25 Oct 2019 03:01 AM PDT

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October 25, 2019
 

Magnitude and Bond

 
Nicole Terez Dutton

More than anything, I need this boy
so close to my ears, his questions


electric as honeybees in an acreage
of goldenrod and aster. And time where


we are, slow sugar in the veins
of white pine, rubbery mushrooms


cloistered at their feet. His tawny
listening at the water's edge, shy


antlers in pooling green light, while
we consider fox prints etched in clay.


I need little black boys to be able to be
little black boys, whole salt water galaxies


in cotton and loudness—not fixed
in stunned suspension, episodes on hot


asphalt, waiting in the dazzling absence
of apology. I need this kid to stay mighty


and coltish, thundering alongside
other black kids, their wrestle and whoop,


the brightness of it—I need for the world
to bear it. And until it will, may the trees


kneel closer, while we sit in mineral hush,
together. May the boy whose dark eyes


are an echo of my father's dark eyes,
and his father's dark eyes, reach


with cupped hands into the braided
current. The boy, restless and lanky, the boy


for whom each moment endlessly opens,
for the attention he invests in the beetle's


lacquered armor, each furrowed seed
or heartbeat, the boy who once told me


the world gives you second chances, the boy
tugging my arm, saying look, saying now.

 
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Copyright © 2019 by Nicole Terez Dutton. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on October 25, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.
"Magnitude and Bond" by Nicole Terez Dutton

About this Poem

 

"This poem, which borrows its title from a line the Gwendolyn Brooks poem 'Paul Robeson,' began as a remembrance of my father who was an enormously joyful person with a keen eye and a mischievous sense of humor. As a doctor my father spent his days helping people through their trauma, and many evenings relaxing with his dogs in the woods outside our house, listening. Sometimes I sat with him and listened while he pointed out deer or the sound of bullfrogs; it was his way to be curious, alert to the world, receptive. Like my father, my son is watcher, attentive to things large and small, a good listener, present. This poem carries the hope that I learned the things my father taught well, and that in spite of any and everything else, should he need it, something of my father's gentleness and strength, something of those slow, wooded evenings, will be here in these lines for my boy."
—Nicole Terez Dutton
Nicole Terez Dutton
 

Nicole Terez Dutton is the author of If One Of Us Should Fall (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2012). She is an editor at Transition Magazine and The Baffler, and teaches in the Solstice Low Residency MFA program. She lives in Somerville, Massachusetts.

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If One Of Us Should Fall

Poetry by Dutton

 

If One Of Us Should Fall
(University of Pittsburgh Press, 2012)


"Summer" by Robin Coste Lewis

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"The Gift" by Li-Young Lee

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"Hummingbird Abecedarian" by Aimee Nezhukumatathil

read-more

October Guest Editor: Oliver de la Paz

 

Thanks to Oliver de la Paz, author of five collections of poetry, including The Boy in the Labyrinth (University of Akron Press, 2019), who curated Poem-a-Day for this month's weekdays. Read a Q&A with Paz about his curatorial approach this month and find out more about our guest editors for the year.
illustration

Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit poets.org

 

Unsubscribe here.

 

© Academy of American Poets
75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038
 
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Poster Contest Submissions Close TOMORROW

Posted: 24 Oct 2019 10:45 AM PDT

October 24, 2019
Small-White-RGB-Academy-of-American-Poets-Logo
Academy of American Poets
75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901
New York, NY 10038
info@poets.org

Dear Teachers,
 

If your students haven't submitted their designs to the National Poetry Month Poster Contest, it's not too late! Submissions are open through Friday, October 25 at 12:00 midnight EST. If you haven't already, please encourage your high school students to submit!

 

The winning poster will be distributed to more than 100,000 libraries, bookstores, schools, and individuals for National Poetry Month 2020. The winning student will receive $500, a $500 gift certificate to Blick Art Materials, art supplies from Sakura Color Products of America, and signed copies of books by this year's judges, renowned graphic memoirist and comic book artist Alison Bechdel and former U.S. Poet Laureate Juan Felipe Herrera. 


Read the prize guidelines and submission details here. Thank you for all the work you do bringing poetry into the classroom!

 

Sincerely,
 

The Academy of American Poets

 
2019 poster

Last Year's Winner & Finalists

 

Learn more about the 2019 National Poetry Month Poster, designed by high school sophomore Julia Wang, and the other eleven finalists in last year's contest. 

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Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit poets.org

 

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© Academy of American Poets
75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038
 
 

"Prayer to be Still and Know" by Nickole Brown

Posted: 24 Oct 2019 03:01 AM PDT

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October 24, 2019
 

Prayer to be Still and Know

 
Nickole Brown

Lord, let my ears go secret agent, each
a microphone so hot it picks up things
silent, reverbing even the hum of stone
close to its eager, silver grill. Let my ears forget
years trained to human chatter
wired into every room, even those empty
except of me, each broadcast and jingle
tricking me into being less
lonely than I am. Let my ears forget
the clack and rumble, our tambourining and fireworking
distractions, our roar of applause. Let my hands quit
their clapping and rest in a new kind of prayer, one
that doesn't ask but listens, palms up in my lap.
Like an owl, let me triangulate icy shuffling under snow as
vole, let me not just name the name
when I spot a soundtrack of birdsong
but understand the notes through each syrinx
as a singular missive—begging, flirting, fussing, each
companion call and alarm as sharp with desire and fear
as my own. Prick my ears, Lord. Make them hungry
satellites, have your way with their tiny bones,
teach the drum within that dark to drum
again. Because within the hammering of woodpecker
is a long tongue unwinding like a tape measure from inside
his pileated head, darting dinner from the pine's soft bark.
And somewhere I know is a spider who births
a filament of silk and flies it to the next branch; somewhere,
a fiddlehead unstrings its violin into the miracle of
fern. And somewhere, a mink not made into a coat
cracks open a mussel's shell, and with her mouth full
of that gray meat, yawns. Those are your sounds, are they not?
Do not deny it, Lord, do not deny
me. I do not know those songs. Nor do I know the hush
a dandelion's face makes when it closes, surrenders, then goes
to seed. No, I only know the sound my own breath makes
as I wish and blow that perfect globe away;
I only know the small, satisfactory
popping of roots when I call it weed and yank it
from the yard. There is a language of all
you've created. Hear me, please. I just want to be
still enough to hear. Right here, Lord:
I want to be. 

 
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Copyright © 2019 by Nickole Brown. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on October 24, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.
"Prayer to be Still and Know" by Nickole Brown

About this Poem

 

"One of the great tragedies of this digital era is we've surrendered our senses to our devices, severing ourselves from our bodies with our clever thinking machines and their little glowing screens. So here, in this poem, I'm grieving what my own ears have lost, craving the language of animals and their home. Feeding this idea are two books integral to my current study of human-animal relationships: David George Haskell's The Songs of Trees and Jon Young's What the Robin Knows, both of which make the singular plea for humans to stop and listen hard to what the natural world is saying. At the center of this poem is an attempt to revise a particular cliché I've heard in more than one prayer circle, a distillation of Psalm 46:10 that neuters the text 'Be still, and know that I am God' into a platitude of comfort that suggests one need only relax to let the divine into your life. What's missing from that, however, is the context of this verse—'to be still' was no gentle suggestion but a command to stop fighting in a time of deep unrest and war—not unlike our world today, especially with such ecological devastation at hand. To me, the charge is not to step into nature to passively receive peace but to actively pay attention, and ultimately, to fight for something greater than ourselves."
—Nickole Brown
Nickole Brown
 

Nickole Brown is the author of To Those Who Were Our First Gods (Rattle Foundation, 2018). She is on faculty at the Sewanee School of Letters low-residency MFA Program and lives in Asheville, North Carolina.

more-at-poets
To Those Who Were Our First Gods

Poetry by Brown

 

To Those Who Were Our First Gods
(Rattle Foundation, 2018)

"Square Cells" by Jenny Xie

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"The Radio Animals" by Matthea Harvey

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"What New Name" by Kazim Ali

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October Guest Editor: Oliver de la Paz

 

Thanks to Oliver de la Paz, author of five collections of poetry, including The Boy in the Labyrinth (University of Akron Press, 2019), who curated Poem-a-Day for this month's weekdays. Read a Q&A with Paz about his curatorial approach this month and find out more about our guest editors for the year.
illustration

Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit poets.org

 

Unsubscribe: here.

 

© Academy of American Poets
75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038
 
 

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