Last Day of National Poetry Month

For some of us, every month is a poetry month, but April does give us permission to focus on the art form in a larger way.  We could use this last day of National Poetry Month to ask what we'd like to carry with us through the other 11 months.  And of course, it's never too late to plan for next year.

I'm pleased with planning a poetry event at my school.  Some people might think of a bucolic campus full of liberal arts students when I say I work at a college, but that's not my school.  We only offer the Associates degree on my campus for students who are, for the most part, preparing for careers where they will be working in medical fields.  Our most popular major is Vet Tech, followed by Allied Health, which on our campus means Medical Assisting or Medical Office Administration.

Still, our students do have creative sides, and I've noticed that some of them are happy to have the opportunity to play with creatively.  So, I'll keep looking for ways to bring a variety of art forms to them.

On a personal note, April wasn't a different month for me in terms of poetry than any other month.  I wrote a few poems and sent a few packets out.  I got some new ideas for poems, which always makes me happy.  I took a purple legal pad to school--right about the time that my administrator schedule heated up, and I didn't have pockets of time during my work day to write.  But I've set a foundation for later.

While getting  a Fitbit may not be one of the goals we see in anyone's writing goals, I do think it's important to remember that our ability to create poems may rely on keeping healthy as best we can.  I've spent the last year gaining 15 pounds, and I'm happy to be taking steps to reverse that.  More important, I'm glad to have a gadget that will remind me to move away from the desk periodically.

What I'd like to carry with me:  I'd like to write poems more regularly.  I do admire the poets like Luisa Igloria who write a poem a day, year in, year out.  I'd be happy if I wrote poetry 3 days a week.  I know there are trackers for that--you don't wear them on your wrist, but a tracker is available.  Maybe I should try that . . .

Progress Report: Week 1 with the Fitbit

So, now I know it takes about 250 steps to vacuum my whole house.  I am not a move-the-furniture vacuum type.  I mainly vacuum the high-traffic parts of the house.

Have I mentioned how much I HATE vacuuming?

I have now added one of those circular robotic vacuumers to my Amazon cart.  If I can use technology to improve my fitness life, maybe I can use it to have a cleaner house.

I'm fascinated by the way the Fitbit knows things, like when I'm sleeping and how deeply.  Today, I'm intrigued about the calories I'm allowed.  Unlike MyFitnessPal, the Fitbit seems to be adjusting because I overate yesterday.

At this rate, I will overeat today too, as the Fitbit tells me I have 539 calories remaining.  I began only having 957 calories in the bank, which is less than any other day.

I entered in my weight loss goals, and I chose from 4 options for achieving those goals (moderately hard) so it's proceeding based on information I've given it.  I thought it would give me a clean slate with the same amount of calories each day.  But it makes sense that it's always adjusting.

I've now had my Fitbit a week, and I'm still loving it.  It motivates me to move every hour by giving me the hourly goal of 250 steps.  I've taken the stairs more this week than I have in years. 

I'm surprised by the fact that I want to please my Fitbit as much as I have wanted to impress coaches and teachers of all sorts in the past.  It's a piece of technology, after all.

Now I must go walk a few more steps to get to my hourly 250 step goals.

If I obeyed my Fitbit in terms of calorie count, I have no doubt I'd attain that goal.  But that one is a bit more complicated . . .

Choosing Poems for Poem in Your Pocket Day

At the beginning of April, I knew that we would do something on our campus to celebrate Poem in Your Pocket Day.  I knew I would greet arriving students with a poem in the morning.  But so many poems in the world--how to choose?

I looked at several of the booklets put together for the day, both the 2018 day and the past Poem in Your Pocket Days.  Nothing leapt out at me:  too historical, too male, too white.  I thought about passing out the poems that would prompt our food treats, but I had the same trouble:  too historical, too male, too white.  Hmmm. 

Then I thought back to our church's Lenten experience of reading Mary Oliver's poems, and using the study guide from SALT.  I thought about the ways those poems are profoundly moving--and yet so quiet, so easy to grasp.  I thought of my dad who attended with me on a Sunday and weeks later called to be reminded of Mary Oliver's name, because he couldn't get the poem out of his head.

I think that the most famous lines that Mary Oliver ever penned come from "The Summer Day":

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

It's an important question, phrased in an evocative way, and so important for college students--and for all of us.  So I decided that would be one of the poems in our pockets on Thursday.  I remembered loving the first lines of "Wild Geese":

"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting."

I decided to hand out this poem too.  As I was planning, I thought it was good to have two poems to hand out.  In retrospect, I wish I had printed both on one sheet, double-sided perhaps.

I love the theology of these poems.  It's a theology of love and respect.  It's a theology that tells us that we are worthy.  It's a theology that tells us we don't have forever, so quit wasting our precious days.  It's a theology rooted in nature, but in the every day kind of nature, not the travelling to a distant mountain slope with sherpas to assist us kind of nature.  It's a theology so understated that many readers likely don't even recognize it as a theology.

I love that the poems are short--easy to read in a single sitting.  I love that the natural elements draw us in to hear the central message.  I noticed that students glanced at the sheet I handed them and then kept reading.  I didn't find those poems discarded in trash cans.

I did something similar close to the 4th of July.  I handed out copies of the Declaration of Independence, a document that didn't have the same effect on students as the poetry of Mary Oliver.

I want to write these kinds of poems, poems that point towards the Divine, rather than shoving readers in that direction.

Poem in Your Pocket Day 2018 and Blackout Poetry

Yesterday was Poem in Your Pocket Day.  I knew that I would hand out poems on campus.  I knew that we would have poetry themed food.  I wanted to do something to encourage the actual writing of poems, but I wasn't sure exactly what.

As I was looking at Facebook one last time, I came across Karen Weyant's  posting of a Blackout Poetry Workshop at her school, Jamestown Community College.  I thought it looked like something we could do.

So, I grabbed some art supplies and headed to school.  I had my copies of poems for pockets already copied.  I had decided on 2 poems by Mary Oliver:  "Wild Geese" and "The Summer Day."  I thought they were accessible and they had the potential of being very moving to students.

I stood in the main lobby of our campus and handed out the poems, along with a greeting telling students why I was handing them out.  I told them we'd be doing poetry themed activities all day in the break room.  Most of them said, "Thank you" when I handed them the poems.  Most of them gave the poem a quick scan.

I suspect that the poetry themed events in the break room were more popular with faculty and staff than with students, but that's O.K. 

Don't get me wrong--the students weren't dismissive or rude.  They took the treats and read the poems:

I love this picture:

I had some great discussions with people about what poetry meant to them.  And I sat at a table and created for a bit. 

I had photocopied pages from 3 books:  Natalie Angier's The Canon, Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma, and Craig Child's Apocalyptic Planet. I knew that those books had evocative language and interesting words.  I didn't overthink the choosing--I just opened up the books and copied what was there.

I was intrigued by people's approaches to blackout poetry.  Some people read the text.  Some, like me, just chose words that sounded interesting and circled them.  Some of us blocked the other words with color:

I was surprised by the poems that emerged.  Here's mine, in picture (process note:  I chose the words, drew blocks around them, and then did the swirling color; as I did the swirling color, the words started to get lost, so I came back and did more blocking):

and written out:

own plots
digging
archeological rubble
time in the ground
live in a cash economy
skulls
bone scraping
hillocks of bones
disappeared among the ruins


We hung our poems on the cabinet doors, along with the models that our registrar had chosen as models. 

Throughout the day, people read our creations, but not as many people sat down to create as I had hoped.

That's O.K.  I liked that we spent the day surrounded by poetry.  My goal is to create an energy on campus so that school is a place where people want to be.  Yesterday met that goal.

Inspirations: of Fitbits, Jesus, and Larger Collections

I have so many threads of random thoughts today.  Let me list some of them and see if a tapestry emerges:

--I arrived home last night to wilted hydrangeas, even though they'd been sitting out on the steps to take advantage of the rains of the last few days.  My first thought was irritation at the neediness of these plants.  But later, I took them inside, and like last week, I put them in the kitchen sink and gave them a good but gentle soaking.  And this morning, they have perked back up.

--The metaphors of the hydrangea situation are so obvious that they might seem like clichés.  Let me move along.

--I am loving the Fitbit.  It has inspired me to move more.  Sure, it's only been a few days, and the magic may wear off, but I'm trying to take advantage of them while I can.  I love all the data.

--I've always loved keeping track of various parts of my life, and the Fitbit really helps with the logging of it all.

--If the last few nights are any indication, my sleep patterns are even more wrecked than I already knew that they are.  I'm intrigued by the sleep stats that the Fitbit gives me, even as I am a bit creeped out by the Fitbit knowing these things.

--Yesterday, I arrived to spin class after having spent time writing about Jesus and menopause.  I thought about Jesus having a Fitbit.  So much to say about the incarnation, so many ways to write a poem.

--I plan to revisit my collection of Jesus poems, along with my poems that write about feast days and their intersections with modern life.  I plan to have a new collection ready to submit to the Two Sylvias Press Wilder Prize in the fall.

--Of course, there's the question about my old collection.  I've been submitting it for years now, and I'm still convinced that it's a strong collection.  I've had at least one editor give me encouragement along with rejection. 

--I'm also thinking of how many books I might have published in my life.  If it could only be one collection of poems, which would I want to leave as my legacy?

--Can't I have 2 collections?  Is that so much to ask?

--And part of me thinks about how my vision has shrunk.  Well, not my vision, but the realities of publishing--traditional publishing.

--Part of me also knows that the reality I see in front of me might not last.  I might put a manuscript away, and in later years, there might be interest.  Maybe it's time to move on.

--I've also resisted the idea of my new collection because it's so overtly religious.  I've worried about all the readers I might not have because of that theme.

--And I know that my religious poems will be strange and perhaps offensive to people who like religious themes.  What if I end up with no readers?

--I certainly won't have readers if I publish nothing.  Maybe I should focus on the work itself, and not who will read it.  I should create collections that delight me and trust that there will be communities that embrace that work.

--Let me go out for a vigorous walk and ponder these things.

Divinities Along the Gender Spectrum

I've been enjoying Luisa A. Igloria's latest book, The Buddha Wonders if She is Having a Mid-life Crisis.  I knew that I'd love it, because I saw some of the poems on the Via Negativa site.  I was happy to have a chance to have them all together in one collection.

With her Buddha poems, Igloria explores what I've been doing with my poems that imagine Jesus (and other forms of the Divine) in the modern world.  So we see the Buddha waiting for a flight and considering the duty-free items, the Buddha at a Women's History Month event on a college campus, the Buddha at a trendy eatery.

The poems are delightful and startling.  They make me think not only about the Divine, but about my own movements in the world.  It's a wonderful book, and I highly recommend it; go here to get your own copy.

In her poems, the Buddha changes gender from poem to poem, which works.  I wonder if a practicing Buddhist would feel the same way.

Last night, as I lay down to sleep, I thought about a poem about Jesus experiencing menopause.  I am trying to remember if I've ever presented Jesus as doing something that is solely associated with the female gender.  I don't think I have.

I thought about how many Christians view Jesus as the incarnation of God, as God come to earth to find out what it means to be fully human.  To find out? Wouldn't God already know?

That's a theological question for another day.  We also read theologians who tell us that Jesus comes to earth to be in solidarity with us in our full humanity.  But if humanity is gendered, can a divinity that comes in only one expression of that gender spectrum/binary be truly human?

Some part of my brain shut down at the idea of Jesus experiencing menopause.  But the poet part of my brain lit up.  The rational part of my brain says it can't possibly work--we know that Jesus was male.  The philosopher part of my brain says, "How can we really know?"  The poet part of my brain likes the juxtaposition of things that don't normally go together:  Jesus and menopause.

I will let these ideas percolate in my brain for a few more days, and then I will attempt this poem.  I'm also wondering if I have an interesting avenue:  Jesus as female, Jesus as transgender.  I'm not sure I can pull this off--which is exactly why I should try.

Doing Justice in Broward County

Last night, we went to our annual BOLD Justice Nehemiah Action.  Each year, across our county, religious people meet to discuss which justice issues are most important to work on.  Each year, the group chooses 2-3 to focus upon, which culminates in a Nehemiah Action, where elected officials meet with the large group.

Those of us who have worked with politicians know that numbers are important to them--not just statistics, but the voters who are paying attention.  So each year, we go to the Action; we know the optics are important.

We go because we want to contribute to the optics of a packed church, but we also go because it's good to be together as a larger people of faith across a wide spectrum of Christian traditions.  I have been to large gatherings of Lutherans, or smaller gatherings of one to three types of faith traditions, but rarely a large group of a mixture.

Each year, my spouse gets a bit grouchy about going.  He grumbles about how the officials are only agreeing to what they planned to do anyway.  But we go.

And on the ride back, we remember that even if we all agree to a policy, it's good to be part of the group who will be watching.  It's good to be part of the group who asks questions, like, "Why is this population at risk?  Why can't we make these simple changes?"  It takes time, but change can come.

Each year, we get to hear news of our successes.  For example, we've been working on making civil citations the first choice when dealing with youthful offenders who have committed non-violent crimes.  Many people don't realize how often a juvenile might be arrested for something like trespassing when they go into a neighbor's yard to retrieve a ball.  Then children end up with a criminal record, which for many of them, makes life harder than it needs to be.

We've been successful with getting many of our local law officials to adopt civil citations over criminal convictions, but we've also been working for state-wide legislation.  Last night we learned that a bill had been passed and that the governor signed it into law on Good Friday.

Hurrah!

In many ways, it's a small move towards a more just society.  But our actions will impact thousands of Florida children each year.  With no criminal record, they'll have a better chance to scholarships and other ways to have a better life.  They'll have the kind of second chance that many of us just took for granted--decades ago, before the schools and juvenile justice system became so much more punitive.

It's a small move, but it's an important one.  Once we might have said that having everyone welcome at a lunch counter was a small move too.  Small moves can help the arc of history bend towards justice, to use the words of Martin Luther King.