Totality of metaphor

    Sifting through the last couple of days of classes, totally done with English. Two more in-person for anthropology, tomorrow and Friday, Friday is the test. Two more days of lit class, tomorrow and next Monday, which is when we present whatever book we chose for the final project – I chose Appalachian Elegy by bell hooks, I plan on discussing why the book fits this course and then reading poems by hooks and other from the region. And in Art, there is an online test that needs to be done by Wednesday the 17th at 1159pm. He may post a video for another discussion since we didn’t get the entire writing portion of the class done. One year down.

    Here’s a picture of the sculpture Quantum Man by Julian Voss-Andreae taken at the Maryhill Museum taken in May 2017. We were back from Belgium because after so many years you’re encouraged to go stateside and visit and as we had left from Oregon that’s where the ticket “home” took us. We visited this day with the boy, he came grudgingly, but he came. I wasn’t aware of the totality of the metaphor when I took the shot, but it popped up a day or so ago in my memories, isn’t gut-punch technology amazing? Two figures and then the disappearing...

    And for another gut-punch a poem from Saeed Jones which makes me think we are all Quantum Man…

A history moment

Today we drove a short eighteen miles to Brooklyn, Illinois. It’s a small village in Saint Clair County. Coincidentally there is another Brooklyn in Schuyler County closer to Peoria. Here’s a tidbit about Brooklyn from the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign: “Brooklyn was established in the 1820s across the Mississippi River from St. Louis and the slave state of Missouri. It was started as a settlement of African Americans escaping slavery, and later became the first black town in America to be incorporated.” 

There is a campaign currently to save the community, to ensure its history is not erased. It is on the list of the most endangered historic places in Illinois. It is not surprising that another place on the list is in Cairo Illinois: “Cairo’s history of housing insecurity dates to the aftermath of the Civil War when newly freed Black southerners flocked to the southernmost town in Illinois, a former stop on the Underground Railroad and an important staging area for the Union army. Cairo’s Black residents formed a vibrant community, but they also faced years of segregation, housing discrimination and poor living conditions.” (From landmarks.org/) In Cairo, they’re trying to save public housing.

Both of these communities have been victims of uneven opportunity and redlining over the years in vicious ways that can only be thought of in boardrooms and dark offices of hate. 

All those songs

Today was a light class day, Art, followed by English where one classmate gave a presentation about Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. I was able to offer that I may (or may not) have heard this song on the radio when it came out and I love how the kids always laugh like they're not sure if I'm kidding or not (how old is she?). Last week Bradley said I was lucky to have seen the movies during the Golden Age of Movies -- he meant the 1980s. God bless you, Bradley. And then in Anthropology, we talked about the Nigerian films we watched. Here's an interesting fact, Nigerian film -- Nollywood -- is the second in the world as far as producing films. India is number one and Hollywood is three. In Nigeria, the movie industry is the second highest money maker after agriculture. Fascinating. A very, very light class day. Jerry is home for the weekend, we are still awaiting rain. Here are some random campus photos and a poem. Be safe, be kind, sing a song.

The sparrows are in the vines and flowers

here where the wall grows and blooms.
It is all activity on a day like today, breezy
warm, the sun fighting clouds. Look here
just on the way to class all these colors
all those songs.

Happiness writes home

An older poem to share and a picture from Keukenhof, Holland. Both here because I am taking a night to watch something mindless after turning in all my final papers. There is still a book presentation and two small tests, but the larger papers are done. It is May, (and May the fourth be with you) and we are awaiting rain. Be safe, be kind, and ask what your happiness would write.

Happiness writes home

Here the weather is rain on tin-
roofs, an all-night jazz of thunder
& drizzle, owls chortle harmony
& spiders allow every third fly
reprieve. Beds are high
& under windows. Sheets line-dried
ooze sunlight into all my dreams.

When I wake the owls have transformed
night into biscuits & honey & the spiders
serve rainwater tea on silk & wings, & the tiny
tables of spent legs.

Day lasts as long as my attention
then as clouds disgorge stars, the moon reigns.

I slip back into places of reverie, things I’ve
lost: do you miss me?

April 30 NaPoWriMo ~~ Fini

Penny (L) and Mr. Fancy MauHaus Cat Cafe

At the cat café, I am immediately in violation of the rules

No picking up I am told so place Patrice on the table
where he looks at me smugly, no cuddles for you, he seems
to say. It’s like a bookstore here, so many interesting titles
if books wore fur and had these tails, but each cat has a story
and with time they will share some of their wonder and poetry.

Mr. Fancy is here with his sister, Annie, a bonded pair
hoping to be adopted together. Benny is a special wild child,
Celeste a one-eyed beauty and Big Boy trying to be a hard ass
but he can’t not come to people for attention: cat fail. I’m here
investigating, all of this is for a paper, I tell myself that the rest
of the day: all research, all research, all research.

 

Day 29 NaPoWriMo

My neighbor’s cat rolls under the car eyeing me
like I should join her. I scoff, the days of rolling
under cars are long over, though I consider it, she
looks so comfortable in the shade her golden eyes
half closed. Around her like snowflakes the petals
of the dogwood flutter, drifting against her copper
body before flying away. I try to coax her out,
but she is not interested in me. I don’t blame her,
often I am not that interested in me either. But I like
the cat and I like the confetti from the dogwood
and the sun that cuts through the lime-colored
leaves and the fact that the breeze is carrying
the whole day minute by minute and it all
feels good.

Day 28 NaPoWriMo

The geese have decided, these last few days of class

that the quad in the morning is the best place to pace

looking for wayward or late students. Surprise! I

tell them, the students are not here, the day too

beautiful, the sun too warm, and the sparrows' song

so high and lovely that they have galloped off

as though the pied piper has played that secret note.

Everyone is ignoring classes, grades

and certainly, geese marching up and down the walk.