Some Blogger blogs, this one among them, have user pics in comments enabled. This means that, if you have an image stored on your Blogger profile, that image will show on your comments on the Blogger comments page. User pics do *not* show next to comments on the individual pages for each thread.
Blogger does not allow you to upload images directly to your profile. Instead, you must provide a URL of up to 86 characters. The image must be in .png, .gif, or .jpeg format. If you have a graphics program such as Paint Shop Pro or Photoshop, you can simply "open" an image with the .jpg extension and "save as," giving the file the .jpeg extension. Then, upload it to your online storage area, free web space, or whatever, and enter the URL in the blank on the profile form. Click the orenge save button at the bottom of the form to save your changes.
As to the uploading itself, you have a choice. If your ISP provides free web space, as many do, you can upload your images to that space for storage. To use this option, you'll need an FTP program to transfer the image files to your webspace.
A simpler, less expensive alternative is the Hello software system, offered free to Blogger members. According to the info on the Hello page, this system is fully integrated with Blogger and will allow you to upload images to your Blogger blogs with minimal effort or knowledge of the particulars. This system may also allow you to create a URL accessible to the Blogger profile.
You can upload images on the fly to your post threads by means of the "add Image" function on the post creation screen. This function permits you to upload images directly from your computer.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Morning Prayer
Lord, thank You for a beautiful morning,
The hope and promise of a beautiful day.
Grant me the strength to fulfill that promise.
Help me to be kind, thoughtful and generous
And to think of others before myself.
And help me to do something good this day.
Protect those I love and all Your people,
And keep the world in peace till evening.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Well, Knock ME Over With A Feather!
Have you ever had a moment, as a writer or other sort of artist, when you received unexpected recognition or worthwhile comment on your work, and the experience just knocked you over with unimaginable joy?!
This is not a rhetorical question; please share your "bluebird of happiness" stories!
Mine happened TODAY!
An article I wrote was published in December in a magazine that comes out every two months. This morning I received word from a peer in R.I. that the new issue includes "a full page of letters to the Editor (including one from the Executive Director herself) affirming" the article! A short while later I received word from another peer in MA saying: "Did I share with you that copies of your article were given to us at the Residency? Excellent and so important to the dialogue."
Given that in the past whenever I have gone out on a limb and spoken out about something regarding the ministry I offer, I have been met with resistance and disdain, I am feeling a bit startled! So, it may take awhile to receive this news, but I will continue to savour it.
Now, I really DO want to hear your stories!
Tell us your "greatest response" and JOY story.
With Amazed and Delighted Gratitude, listener
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
In Memoriam: Peter Benchley
Peter Benchley, novelist, shark lover and advocate for ocean concervation, died Saturday. He suffered from pulmonary fibrosis, a progressive and fatal lung disease. He died at home, in Princeton.
Most recently, Mr. Benchley wrote articles for National Geographic and did radio ocean reports and educational films on ocean conservation. He believed deeply in the vital importance of the seas and of rain forests, and worked to educate the public, especially young people, about the need to care for this planet.
Mr. Benchley is survived by his wife of forty-one years, Wendy, and his three children.
RIP
Related Links
Jaws Author Peter Benchley Dies at 65
Jaws Creator Loved Sharks, Wife Reveals
Jaws Author Dead at 65 from xinhuanet.com (China)
Peter Benchley, The Author of Jaws, Dies at Sixty-five
PeterBenchley.com
Most recently, Mr. Benchley wrote articles for National Geographic and did radio ocean reports and educational films on ocean conservation. He believed deeply in the vital importance of the seas and of rain forests, and worked to educate the public, especially young people, about the need to care for this planet.
Mr. Benchley is survived by his wife of forty-one years, Wendy, and his three children.
RIP
Related Links
Jaws Author Peter Benchley Dies at 65
Jaws Creator Loved Sharks, Wife Reveals
Jaws Author Dead at 65 from xinhuanet.com (China)
Peter Benchley, The Author of Jaws, Dies at Sixty-five
PeterBenchley.com
Monday, February 13, 2006
Words of Wisdom from the Good Gray Poet
Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown, or to any man or number of men - go freely with powerful uneducated persons, and with the young, and with the mothers or families - re-examine all you have been told in school or church or in any book, and dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem, and have the richest fluency, not only in its words, but in the silent lines of its lips and face, and between the lashes of your eyes, and in every motion and joint of your body.
From the 1855 Preface to Leaves of Grass
Sunday, February 12, 2006
A Snowy Day
It's been snowing here in W. MA all day, the same snow JC had in KY a couple of days ago. It's quite lovely, and put me in mind of this poem, which I wrote in 1986.
Snow
The slow, steady creak of my boots sounds
loud in the silent street; until I pause
to raise my hood, and a crystal soft swish
and patter enspheres me, in whose center
I soon grow still. More now, and faster falling
around me; and I walk In a world, without,
yet within, alone, yet one with the sounds
of the waking street: Shouts of playing children,
barking of a dog, ring of an ax on wood.
For hearing has eclipsed sight in the silver-strung
morning, where distance deceives and even gravity stands
still, content to straddle the shoulders of the wind.
And the wind, with a conjurer's hand, sets the snowflakes
dancing in spinning spirals that bewilder the unwary
watcher, winding him - me - in a wandering reverie.
The houses, the trees, the passing people of the familiar
street seem strange through the shifting screen of snow,
unreachable, and yet I could dance with them all, whirling
and wheeling in the wind's hands like the softly sifting
snowflakes. I stop and draw a long breath, blinking
away visions of forbidden freedom in the singing circles
of the stars. Earthbound again, I feel my fingers, nose
and feet chill. Heedless of higher things, they crave
cocoa and curling up in a warm corner. Smiling, I turn
and quietly walk home through the crowded, snowy morning.
First published in Delta Epsilon Sigma Journal
Snow
The slow, steady creak of my boots sounds
loud in the silent street; until I pause
to raise my hood, and a crystal soft swish
and patter enspheres me, in whose center
I soon grow still. More now, and faster falling
around me; and I walk In a world, without,
yet within, alone, yet one with the sounds
of the waking street: Shouts of playing children,
barking of a dog, ring of an ax on wood.
For hearing has eclipsed sight in the silver-strung
morning, where distance deceives and even gravity stands
still, content to straddle the shoulders of the wind.
And the wind, with a conjurer's hand, sets the snowflakes
dancing in spinning spirals that bewilder the unwary
watcher, winding him - me - in a wandering reverie.
The houses, the trees, the passing people of the familiar
street seem strange through the shifting screen of snow,
unreachable, and yet I could dance with them all, whirling
and wheeling in the wind's hands like the softly sifting
snowflakes. I stop and draw a long breath, blinking
away visions of forbidden freedom in the singing circles
of the stars. Earthbound again, I feel my fingers, nose
and feet chill. Heedless of higher things, they crave
cocoa and curling up in a warm corner. Smiling, I turn
and quietly walk home through the crowded, snowy morning.
First published in Delta Epsilon Sigma Journal
Saturday, February 11, 2006
One Year At The DNC
Howard Dean is about to complete his first year as Chair of the Democratic National Committee. How are you going to commemorate the anniversary? Some people are contributing to the DNC. Others are planning tributes, greetings and gifts. Ideas?
Kudos for Edwin: From the HEP blog
Puddle's Edwin was reviewed in today's Wall St. Journal--
AND there was a photo of Edwin and 2 of his co-stars. He's identified as 'Ed Owens.'
Corinne | 02.10.06 - 7:27 pm | #
The same caveat applies to the acting. Most of the performances in "The Right Kind of People" are cartoonish, albeit agreeably so (Keith Jochim and Evan ******** are especially sharp as an odious pair of arch-snobs). But Edwin C. Owens, last seen in the Irish Repertory Theatre's unforgettable revival of "Philadelphia, Here I Come!," is so believable as Frank, the upper-middle-aged businessman whose 40-year marriage is unraveling, that he seems to have wandered in from another, better show down the street.
AND there was a photo of Edwin and 2 of his co-stars. He's identified as 'Ed Owens.'
Corinne | 02.10.06 - 7:27 pm | #
Valentine's Day Haiku Contest: DEADLINE LOOMING!
I just learned that Breakup Girl is running a haiku contest to be judged by Jason Reich, "Emmy-Award-winning writer for Emmy-Award-winning The Daily Show with Jon Stewart."
You'd better get going, though, the deadline is midnight tonight!
You'd better get going, though, the deadline is midnight tonight!
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Writing Contests
The NFB Writers' Division's Poetry and Fiction contests are now open. Nonmembers, blind and sighted alike, may enter. Come to think of it, I'm not altogether sure the contests page says so, but the deadline is June 30. See the contest page for all other details.
Join The Team: Donate To Habitat
On Monday, I posted about the team associated with this community to assist Habitat with their Home Delivery project. Checking the team page, I see that the donation total stands at $25.00, the same level it was at when I published that post.
We can do better than that!
I know that $25.00 is sometimes a lot to give all at once. But, can you afford $5.00 this month? $5.00 to help people who have nothing regain some measure of security and dignity with a new home. $5.00 that will mean as much to the family you help as it means to you, maybe more.
When I check the team page on Saturday, please let me see a total higher than $25.00. Do it for The Arty Blog. Do it for Howard. Do it for our brothers and sisters who are in such desperate need.
We can do better than that!
I know that $25.00 is sometimes a lot to give all at once. But, can you afford $5.00 this month? $5.00 to help people who have nothing regain some measure of security and dignity with a new home. $5.00 that will mean as much to the family you help as it means to you, maybe more.
When I check the team page on Saturday, please let me see a total higher than $25.00. Do it for The Arty Blog. Do it for Howard. Do it for our brothers and sisters who are in such desperate need.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Get Involved In The Arty Blog Community
Since I am *not* the only person with keys to the blog, it would be extremely helpful if other members would post here. Thoughts, news items, anything at all related, however vaguely, to the Arts, handycrafts, politics, Howard Dean - ideally some sort of synthesis of two or more of these, but not necessarily. Also, if anybody has time on their hands and just wants to update us on their doings, that would be great too.
I simply can't maintain this blog alone. Besides, it's supposed to be a community. Please, friends, get involved in this community, or it will wither and die.
Posting Hints
To post a main blog entry, click the orenge "Blogger" button in the uppermost left corner of any of the blog's pages. This takes you to your "dashboard," a control pannel displaying (as hyperlinks) the titles of the blogs you own/participate in. Click the green plus sign marked "Create New Post. You'll be taken to the post entry page.
Please make use of the "Title" field near the top of the post entry page. Adding a title makes identifying the post easier for everyone.
If you want to include a pic in your post, look for the "Add Image" function on the post entry page. This will allow you to upload or enter a link to an image resource already on the web. You must know the exact URL (web address) of the image to link to it.
Proofread your post for grammatical errors, omitted words, and the llike. It's probably best to compose long posts in a word processor, where you have the benefit of spellcheck and grammarcheck. You can also use the spellcheck function on the post entry page.
The length of the post is *not* important. Your participation is what's important. A community is only as strong as its members. We're Deaniacs. We're strong; we can do anything!
I simply can't maintain this blog alone. Besides, it's supposed to be a community. Please, friends, get involved in this community, or it will wither and die.
Posting Hints
To post a main blog entry, click the orenge "Blogger" button in the uppermost left corner of any of the blog's pages. This takes you to your "dashboard," a control pannel displaying (as hyperlinks) the titles of the blogs you own/participate in. Click the green plus sign marked "Create New Post. You'll be taken to the post entry page.
Please make use of the "Title" field near the top of the post entry page. Adding a title makes identifying the post easier for everyone.
If you want to include a pic in your post, look for the "Add Image" function on the post entry page. This will allow you to upload or enter a link to an image resource already on the web. You must know the exact URL (web address) of the image to link to it.
Proofread your post for grammatical errors, omitted words, and the llike. It's probably best to compose long posts in a word processor, where you have the benefit of spellcheck and grammarcheck. You can also use the spellcheck function on the post entry page.
The length of the post is *not* important. Your participation is what's important. A community is only as strong as its members. We're Deaniacs. We're strong; we can do anything!
Monday, February 06, 2006
Arty Bloggers For The Gulf Coast
You may have seen the NBC Nightly News report (Jan. 23, 2006) on Habitat's project to build a Musicians' Village in the Upper Ninth Ward of New Orliens. This seems to me an ideal project for us to pitch in and help with. Doing so is easy. Just go to this online donation form. If you do not use the Address Line 2, as for an apartment No. etc., use it for Artists For Dean.
In addition, I have created a "team" to help with Habitat's more general Home Delivery project. Having created the team, I'm the team captain. Don't worry, though; I won't be breaking out the cat o nine tails. *grin* I do, however, ask that all Arty Bloggers and friends join the team and give as generously as possible.
Additional Links
"Through building with Habitat, Bon Jovi helps ‘make volunteering hip'"
Some of the world’s leading songwriters and singers are supporting Habitat for Humanity's hurricane response efforts with their lyrical talents
Harry Connick Jr. Addresses Lawmakers, Urges them to Help Rebuild the Gulf Coast
In addition, I have created a "team" to help with Habitat's more general Home Delivery project. Having created the team, I'm the team captain. Don't worry, though; I won't be breaking out the cat o nine tails. *grin* I do, however, ask that all Arty Bloggers and friends join the team and give as generously as possible.
Additional Links
"Through building with Habitat, Bon Jovi helps ‘make volunteering hip'"
Some of the world’s leading songwriters and singers are supporting Habitat for Humanity's hurricane response efforts with their lyrical talents
Harry Connick Jr. Addresses Lawmakers, Urges them to Help Rebuild the Gulf Coast
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Purpose and Project
With her usual acumen, listener nutshells our problem and suggests some solutions.
We need a common purpose, a short-term project perhaps. What do the Poets Against the War need by way of support from kindred blogs? Or do we simply want to choose our own "project" and go for it?
One idear is to link with some of the people who visit veterans, such as Anne*from*Vermont and see if there are some vets who have written poetry about their struggles.
In addition, are there some among us who have written poetry during this difficult time? Or who have painted, or created music, or whatever OUT OF their sorrow or hope related to the war and/or the state of this country?
What if we all tried to create or uncover at least one item to share with one another by...Valentine's Day?
~ listener
We need a common purpose, a short-term project perhaps. What do the Poets Against the War need by way of support from kindred blogs? Or do we simply want to choose our own "project" and go for it?
One idear is to link with some of the people who visit veterans, such as Anne*from*Vermont and see if there are some vets who have written poetry about their struggles.
In addition, are there some among us who have written poetry during this difficult time? Or who have painted, or created music, or whatever OUT OF their sorrow or hope related to the war and/or the state of this country?
What if we all tried to create or uncover at least one item to share with one another by...Valentine's Day?
~ listener
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
In Memoriam: Columbia
Crossposted at Disabled Americans for Democracy
The STS-107 crewmembers strike a flying pose. From the left, bottom row, wearing red shirts, are astronauts Kalpana Chawla, Rick Husband, Laurel Clark and Ilan Ramon. From the left, top row, wearing blue shirts, are astronauts David Brown, William McCool and Michae Anderson. --NASA
We remember that terrible Saturday morning, three years ago today when, rather than reporting on the safe return of Columbia, audibly shaken newscasters reported the Space Shuttle's destruction during reentry into Earth's atmosphere.
May they rest in peace.
Published in Slate & Style: Magazine of the NFB Writers Division
Additional Links
Space.com Special Report
BBC In Depth Coverage
NASA's Columbia Site
The STS-107 crewmembers strike a flying pose. From the left, bottom row, wearing red shirts, are astronauts Kalpana Chawla, Rick Husband, Laurel Clark and Ilan Ramon. From the left, top row, wearing blue shirts, are astronauts David Brown, William McCool and Michae Anderson. --NASAWe remember that terrible Saturday morning, three years ago today when, rather than reporting on the safe return of Columbia, audibly shaken newscasters reported the Space Shuttle's destruction during reentry into Earth's atmosphere.
May they rest in peace.
Columbia
STS 107
February 1, 2003
Seven souls released in fire,
Vehicles sublimed between air and Earth,
Their courage and love set free to fill
Our hearts and the universe.
God takes his own in his good way and time,
Not for us to fathom the emptiness behind the taking
Or the mind so vast its love looks like death.
For us is only grief and, looking up,
To reach again for the stars.
Published in Slate & Style: Magazine of the NFB Writers Division
Additional Links
Space.com Special Report
BBC In Depth Coverage
NASA's Columbia Site
Monday, January 30, 2006
In Memoriam: Wendy Wasserstein
Pulitzer and Tony award winning playwright Wendy Wasserstein died Jan. 29 at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in Manhattan at the age of fifty-five.
The New York Times' Obituary
In Memoriam: Wendy Wasserstein
Related Links
Stage Scene
The New York Times' Obituary
In Memoriam: Wendy Wasserstein
Related Links
Stage Scene
Thursday, January 19, 2006
CodePink Antiwar Petition
Crossposted at Disabled Americans for Democracy
CodePink Women for Peace has an international petition to end the war/occupation in Iraq, endorsed by leading women writers and artists. Please join me in signing it.
For More Information:
CodePink Women for Peace
"Women's Anti-War Petition Circles the Globe"
CodePink Women for Peace has an international petition to end the war/occupation in Iraq, endorsed by leading women writers and artists. Please join me in signing it.
For More Information:
CodePink Women for Peace
"Women's Anti-War Petition Circles the Globe"
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Poets Against War Newsletter
Dear Friends:
It is three years since we began Poets Against War. It seems altogether appropriate to note the occasion with three comments from Walt Whitman. It was, after all, Whitman to whom I turned that cold January afternoon after reading my invitation to the White House. The real war is not in Iraq or Afghanistan, but in the hearts-and-minds of people around the world. I turned to Whitman. And I knew in that instant my life had been changed forever. I could go play nice with a murderous establishment or I could live as I have tried to live all my adult life-by the revolutionary path I first glimpsed in Whitman when I was still a boy.
We have walked a long way together. We have a long way to go. While it remains essential for us to continue to be engaged with fellow groups and individuals working for nonviolent solutions, it is also good to remember that we sometimes accomplish the most by working alone, daily, with a few good words from the heart. In either case, Whitman is good company. Not only are we not alone, but our company, our majority, grows- one by one, day by day. Namaste. We have good work to do.
-Sam Hamill
*
Anyone interested in obtaining a DVD copy of Tim Robbins' utterly brilliant satire, Embedded Live! or Cinema Libre's Peace! may do so by contacting: www.docworkers.com
*
Does anyone wish to offer a few polite remarks to Henry Kissinger? Among his many accomplishments besides Viet Nam, the Nobel Peace Prize winner gets credit for overthrowing the duly elected government of Salvador Allende in Chile on September 11, 1973.
On March 10th and 11th this year the fourteen Presidential Libraries and the National Archives will host a conference at the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library in Boston on "Vietnam and the Presidency." Many of the leading U.S. "decision makers" of that war will be present , including former Secretary of State, and National Security Advisor, Henry Kissinger, who rarely makes such public appearances. Unfortunately, perspectives will be limited, as will access to the conference: currently no seats are available. In an effort to address these issues, across the road at the University of Massachusetts Boston, the William Joiner Center for the Study of War and Social Consequences will host a series of events offering those who have lived the consequences of these decisions to make their own testimonies and present their perspectives. In an effort to provide individulas unable to attend the same opportunity we are offering to deliver letters and emails directly to the conference, and to Mr. Kissinger. We ask these letters be addressed to Mr. Kissinger, personnally, since he will be the chief architect of the war who will be present. In a time when the same issues of Presidential power and the abuse of that power we saw in Vietnam are again in the air, we feel this conference offers a unique opportunity to deliver a message.
email may be addressed to joinercenter@umb.edu
*
Please keep us advised of poetry-related events as appropriate for our calendar.
In the coming weeks we hope to find about a dozen volunteers to become contributing editors to our Poetry Matters section. We want to build a library of important links and to be notified of important events.
The Winter edition of Poets Against War Newsletter is on line and features the first installment of William O'Daly's commentary on poetry and torture along with poet-translator-doctor Fady Joudah's memoir of recent work with Doctors Without Borders.
*
Walt Whitman
From Specimen Days
The Real War Will Never Get in the Books
AND so good-bye to the war. I know not how it may have been, or may be, to
others-to me the main interest I found, (and still, on recollection, find,)
in the rank and file of the armies, both sides, and in those specimens amid
the hospitals, and even the dead on the field. To me the points
illustrating the latent personal character and eligibilities of these
States, in the two or three millions of American young and middle-aged men,
North and South, embodied in those armies-and especially the one-third or
one-fourth of their number, stricken by wounds or disease at some time in
the course of the contest-were of more significance even than the political
interests involved. (As so much of a race depends on how it faces death,
and how it stands personal anguish and sickness. As, in the glints of
emotions under emergencies, and the indirect traits and asides in Plutarch,
we get far profounder clues to the antique world than all its more formal
history.)
Future years will never know the seething hell and the black infernal
background of countless minor scenes and interiors, (not the official
surface courteousness of the Generals, not the few great battles) of the
Secession war; and it is best they should not-the real war will never get
in the books. In the mushy influences of current times, too, the fervid
atmosphere and typical events of those years are in danger of being totally
forgotten. I have at night watch'd by the side of a sick man in the
hospital, one who could not live many hours. I have seen his eyes flash and
burn as he raised himself and recurr'd to the cruelties on his surrender'd
brother, and mutilations of the corpse afterward. (See, in the preceding
pages, the incident at Upperville-the seventeen kill'd as in the
description, were left there on the ground. After they dropt dead, no one
touch'd them-all were made sure of, however. The carcasses were left for
the citizens to bury or not, as they chose.)
Such was the war. It was not a quadrille in a ball-room. Its interior
history will not only never be written-its practicality, minutiæ of deeds
and passions, will never be even suggested. The actual soldier of 1862-'65,
North and South, with all his ways, his incredible dauntlessness, habits,
practices, tastes, language, his fierce friendship, his appetite, rankness,
his superb strength and animality, lawless gait, and a hundred unnamed
lights and shades of camp, I say, will never be written-perhaps must not
and should not be.
The preceding notes may furnish a few stray glimpses into that life, and
into those lurid interiors, never to be fully convey'd to the future. The
hospital part of the drama from '61 to '65, deserves indeed to be recorded.
Of that many-threaded drama, with its sudden and strange surprises, its
confounding of prophecies, its moments of despair, the dread of foreign
interference, the interminable campaigns, the bloody battles, the mighty
and cumbrous and green armies, the drafts and bounties-the immense money
expenditure, like a heavy-pouring constant rain-with, over the whole land,
the last three years of the struggle, an unending, universal mourning-wail
of women, parents, orphans-the marrow of the tragedy concentrated in those
Army Hospitals-(it seem'd sometimes as if the whole interest of the land,
North and South, was one vast central hospital, and all the rest of the
affair but flanges)-those forming the untold and unwritten history of the
war-infinitely greater (like life's) than the few scraps and distortions
that are ever told or written. Think how much, and of importance, will be-
how much, civic and military, has already been-buried in the grave, in
eternal darkness.
Nature and Democracy-Morality
DEMOCRACY most of all affiliates with the open air, is sunny and hardy and
sane only with Nature-just as much as Art is. Something is required to
temper both-to check them, restrain them from excess, morbidity. I have
wanted, before departure, to bear special testimony to a very old lesson
and requisite. American Democracy, in its myriad personalities, in
factories, work-shops, stores, offices-through the dense streets and houses
of cities, and all their manifold sophisticated life-must either be fibred,
vitalized, by regular contact with out-door light and air and growths,
farm-scenes, animals, fields, trees, birds, sun-warmth and free skies, or
it will certainly dwindle and pale. We cannot have grand races of
mechanics, work people, and commonalty, (the only specific purpose of
America,) on any less terms. I conceive of no flourishing and heroic
elements of Democracy in the United States, or of Democracy maintaining
itself at all, without the Nature-element forming a main part - to be its
health-element and beauty-element - to really underlie the whole politics,
sanity, religion and art of the New World.
Finally, the morality: "Virtue," said Marcus Aurelius, "what is it,
only a living and enthusiastic sympathy with Nature?" Perhaps indeed the efforts
of the true poets, founders, religions, literatures, all ages, have been,
and ever will be, our time and times to come, essentially the same - to bring
people back from their persistent strayings and sickly abstractions, to the
costless average, divine, original concrete.
* *
From the 1855 Preface to Leaves of Grass
Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to
everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income
and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience
and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or
unknown, or to any man or number of men-go freely with powerful uneducated
persons, and with the young, and with the mothers or families-re-examine
all you have been told in school or church or in any book, and dismiss
whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem,
and have the richest fluency, not only in its words, but in the silent
lines of its lips and face, and between the lashes of your eyes, and in
every motion and joint of your body.
It is three years since we began Poets Against War. It seems altogether appropriate to note the occasion with three comments from Walt Whitman. It was, after all, Whitman to whom I turned that cold January afternoon after reading my invitation to the White House. The real war is not in Iraq or Afghanistan, but in the hearts-and-minds of people around the world. I turned to Whitman. And I knew in that instant my life had been changed forever. I could go play nice with a murderous establishment or I could live as I have tried to live all my adult life-by the revolutionary path I first glimpsed in Whitman when I was still a boy.
We have walked a long way together. We have a long way to go. While it remains essential for us to continue to be engaged with fellow groups and individuals working for nonviolent solutions, it is also good to remember that we sometimes accomplish the most by working alone, daily, with a few good words from the heart. In either case, Whitman is good company. Not only are we not alone, but our company, our majority, grows- one by one, day by day. Namaste. We have good work to do.
-Sam Hamill
*
Anyone interested in obtaining a DVD copy of Tim Robbins' utterly brilliant satire, Embedded Live! or Cinema Libre's Peace! may do so by contacting: www.docworkers.com
*
Does anyone wish to offer a few polite remarks to Henry Kissinger? Among his many accomplishments besides Viet Nam, the Nobel Peace Prize winner gets credit for overthrowing the duly elected government of Salvador Allende in Chile on September 11, 1973.
On March 10th and 11th this year the fourteen Presidential Libraries and the National Archives will host a conference at the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library in Boston on "Vietnam and the Presidency." Many of the leading U.S. "decision makers" of that war will be present , including former Secretary of State, and National Security Advisor, Henry Kissinger, who rarely makes such public appearances. Unfortunately, perspectives will be limited, as will access to the conference: currently no seats are available. In an effort to address these issues, across the road at the University of Massachusetts Boston, the William Joiner Center for the Study of War and Social Consequences will host a series of events offering those who have lived the consequences of these decisions to make their own testimonies and present their perspectives. In an effort to provide individulas unable to attend the same opportunity we are offering to deliver letters and emails directly to the conference, and to Mr. Kissinger. We ask these letters be addressed to Mr. Kissinger, personnally, since he will be the chief architect of the war who will be present. In a time when the same issues of Presidential power and the abuse of that power we saw in Vietnam are again in the air, we feel this conference offers a unique opportunity to deliver a message.
email may be addressed to joinercenter@umb.edu
*
Please keep us advised of poetry-related events as appropriate for our calendar.
In the coming weeks we hope to find about a dozen volunteers to become contributing editors to our Poetry Matters section. We want to build a library of important links and to be notified of important events.
The Winter edition of Poets Against War Newsletter is on line and features the first installment of William O'Daly's commentary on poetry and torture along with poet-translator-doctor Fady Joudah's memoir of recent work with Doctors Without Borders.
*
Walt Whitman
From Specimen Days
The Real War Will Never Get in the Books
AND so good-bye to the war. I know not how it may have been, or may be, to
others-to me the main interest I found, (and still, on recollection, find,)
in the rank and file of the armies, both sides, and in those specimens amid
the hospitals, and even the dead on the field. To me the points
illustrating the latent personal character and eligibilities of these
States, in the two or three millions of American young and middle-aged men,
North and South, embodied in those armies-and especially the one-third or
one-fourth of their number, stricken by wounds or disease at some time in
the course of the contest-were of more significance even than the political
interests involved. (As so much of a race depends on how it faces death,
and how it stands personal anguish and sickness. As, in the glints of
emotions under emergencies, and the indirect traits and asides in Plutarch,
we get far profounder clues to the antique world than all its more formal
history.)
Future years will never know the seething hell and the black infernal
background of countless minor scenes and interiors, (not the official
surface courteousness of the Generals, not the few great battles) of the
Secession war; and it is best they should not-the real war will never get
in the books. In the mushy influences of current times, too, the fervid
atmosphere and typical events of those years are in danger of being totally
forgotten. I have at night watch'd by the side of a sick man in the
hospital, one who could not live many hours. I have seen his eyes flash and
burn as he raised himself and recurr'd to the cruelties on his surrender'd
brother, and mutilations of the corpse afterward. (See, in the preceding
pages, the incident at Upperville-the seventeen kill'd as in the
description, were left there on the ground. After they dropt dead, no one
touch'd them-all were made sure of, however. The carcasses were left for
the citizens to bury or not, as they chose.)
Such was the war. It was not a quadrille in a ball-room. Its interior
history will not only never be written-its practicality, minutiæ of deeds
and passions, will never be even suggested. The actual soldier of 1862-'65,
North and South, with all his ways, his incredible dauntlessness, habits,
practices, tastes, language, his fierce friendship, his appetite, rankness,
his superb strength and animality, lawless gait, and a hundred unnamed
lights and shades of camp, I say, will never be written-perhaps must not
and should not be.
The preceding notes may furnish a few stray glimpses into that life, and
into those lurid interiors, never to be fully convey'd to the future. The
hospital part of the drama from '61 to '65, deserves indeed to be recorded.
Of that many-threaded drama, with its sudden and strange surprises, its
confounding of prophecies, its moments of despair, the dread of foreign
interference, the interminable campaigns, the bloody battles, the mighty
and cumbrous and green armies, the drafts and bounties-the immense money
expenditure, like a heavy-pouring constant rain-with, over the whole land,
the last three years of the struggle, an unending, universal mourning-wail
of women, parents, orphans-the marrow of the tragedy concentrated in those
Army Hospitals-(it seem'd sometimes as if the whole interest of the land,
North and South, was one vast central hospital, and all the rest of the
affair but flanges)-those forming the untold and unwritten history of the
war-infinitely greater (like life's) than the few scraps and distortions
that are ever told or written. Think how much, and of importance, will be-
how much, civic and military, has already been-buried in the grave, in
eternal darkness.
Nature and Democracy-Morality
DEMOCRACY most of all affiliates with the open air, is sunny and hardy and
sane only with Nature-just as much as Art is. Something is required to
temper both-to check them, restrain them from excess, morbidity. I have
wanted, before departure, to bear special testimony to a very old lesson
and requisite. American Democracy, in its myriad personalities, in
factories, work-shops, stores, offices-through the dense streets and houses
of cities, and all their manifold sophisticated life-must either be fibred,
vitalized, by regular contact with out-door light and air and growths,
farm-scenes, animals, fields, trees, birds, sun-warmth and free skies, or
it will certainly dwindle and pale. We cannot have grand races of
mechanics, work people, and commonalty, (the only specific purpose of
America,) on any less terms. I conceive of no flourishing and heroic
elements of Democracy in the United States, or of Democracy maintaining
itself at all, without the Nature-element forming a main part - to be its
health-element and beauty-element - to really underlie the whole politics,
sanity, religion and art of the New World.
Finally, the morality: "Virtue," said Marcus Aurelius, "what is it,
only a living and enthusiastic sympathy with Nature?" Perhaps indeed the efforts
of the true poets, founders, religions, literatures, all ages, have been,
and ever will be, our time and times to come, essentially the same - to bring
people back from their persistent strayings and sickly abstractions, to the
costless average, divine, original concrete.
* *
From the 1855 Preface to Leaves of Grass
Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to
everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income
and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience
and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or
unknown, or to any man or number of men-go freely with powerful uneducated
persons, and with the young, and with the mothers or families-re-examine
all you have been told in school or church or in any book, and dismiss
whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem,
and have the richest fluency, not only in its words, but in the silent
lines of its lips and face, and between the lashes of your eyes, and in
every motion and joint of your body.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Poetry Matters
I was just looking at the Poetry Matters section at the Poets Against War site.
Yeah, the written word is only one facet of who we are. Still, I think it would be cool - and possibly very useful - to get ourselves sufficiently organized to get linked to from their page. I don't quite know what that would entail. OK, I don't have the faintest idear what it would entail. But, I think we need to begin seriously thinking of ourselves as an organization, a progressive, activist organization with one goal (TBA) striven towards through several means: the written word, music, photography/painting/graphic arts, handycrafts, etc. I'm not a great fan of structure, but I think we need to start seriously considering the structure of this org., its purpose and means.
Any idears?
Yeah, the written word is only one facet of who we are. Still, I think it would be cool - and possibly very useful - to get ourselves sufficiently organized to get linked to from their page. I don't quite know what that would entail. OK, I don't have the faintest idear what it would entail. But, I think we need to begin seriously thinking of ourselves as an organization, a progressive, activist organization with one goal (TBA) striven towards through several means: the written word, music, photography/painting/graphic arts, handycrafts, etc. I'm not a great fan of structure, but I think we need to start seriously considering the structure of this org., its purpose and means.
Any idears?
Sunday, December 25, 2005
I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day
I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And in despair I bowed my head
"There is no peace on earth," I said,
"For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men."
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men."
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And in despair I bowed my head
"There is no peace on earth," I said,
"For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men."
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men."
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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