"This work is unlike any other, in its range of rich, conjuring imagery and its dexterity, its smart voice. Carroll-Hackett doesn’t spare us—but doesn’t save us—she draws a blueprint of power and class with her unflinching pivot: matter-of-fact and tender." —Jan Beatty

Posts tagged ‘kindness’

Daily Prompt Love <3 What You Give

14 April 2017

Make art about service, about how the self is found in service to others. 

ghandi service

 

Daily Prompt Love <3 Small Acts

23 November 2016

Dreamt I was working with a couple of other people in some kind of disaster distribution center, coordinating and handing out goods to people in need, blankets, socks, water bottles, cloth diapers for babies. People moved through the barn-like building, their steps stuttering softly against the dirt floor. The line seemed as if it would never end. It didn’t feel like I was doing enough. But then, a young woman with two small children, a baby on her hip, and a four or five year old girl holding her hand, stopped in front of me for a blanket. The young mother’s face was drawn and exhausted, and the kids too seemed scared and weighted with whatever disaster it was we were all dealing with out there in the world.

The little girl said, “Blue.”

I smiled, not sure for a second what she meant, but then I looked down. The stacked blankets were mostly green and gray, but tucked into the pile halfway down or so, one blue blanket.

Her mama shushed her, and smiled sadly at me. but the little girl looked up at me, smiling a little around the fingers she had in her mouth, and said again, “Blue?” 

Her mama hushed her again, saying, “Missy, we can’t–“

“Sure we can,” I said. I pulled the one blue blanket out of the others and offered it across the table to the little girl. She let go of her mama, and reached out with both her little girl hands to take the blue blanket, wrapping her arms around it like a hug and smiling. 

We all smiled. 

Make art about small acts of taking care of each other. 

smallest-act

 

Because I Needed to Stand in the Light <3

The moon does not fight. It attacks no one. It does not worry. It does not try to crush others. It keeps to its course, but by its very nature, it gently influences. What other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore? The moon is faithful to its nature and its power is never diminished.  -Ming-Dao Deng

 

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Important Call for Submissions Love <3 Imagining Peace <3 New Madrid

Seeking Submissions for Winter 2017 Theme Issue, “Imagining Peace”

Deadline: October 15, 2016

 “We are dedicating the Winter 2017 issue of New Madrid to the theme of “Imagining Peace.” As George Bernard Shaw wrote, “Peace is not only better than war, but infinitely more arduous.” We are looking for work in all literary genres that speaks to this arduousness and that defines peace not just as the absence of war, but as something dynamic in its own right. Possible categories of interest include: writing by peace activists and refugees, testimonies about immigration or international crises, travel writing, translations, and much more. An in-depth explanation can be found on our website. We will be accepting submissions from August 15 through October 15, 2016.”
Visit their website: www.newmadridjournal.org

Sometimes the Day is the Poem <3

Woke up hearing this 🙂 It’s a song I sing to my students. Yep. The future’s in good hands ❤

 

Rainbow Warrior – Martin Jondo

well dis one rainbow warrior
down ina babylon we´re chanting songs of freedom
and it go like dis brothers and sisters

said I am a rainbow warrior
rainbow rainbow warrior
lord I am a rainbow warrior
warrior of love now
we seh

war war dem fuss and dem fight
silly hypocrites well dem won´t unite
and I see dem fight a competion
well don´t dem know dis an impossible mission
but Jah love come to quench we thirst
we´ve enough of those dirty works
love a love a love a love a come quench we thirst
we´ve enough of those dirty words and

rainbow warrior
rainbow rainbow warrior
lord I am a rainbow a warrior
warrior of love now
so wah seh

so when I´m trodin´down in babylon
I just keep my heart so clean
so when I´m trodin´through the deadmans town
I just keep my love within
war war who fuss and who fight
is a murderer got blood in him eye
he´s down in a total illusion
feeling so smart ina devilious confusion
but a who concludes all the murders and crimes
is bringing peace and love and changing this times
well me and you well me and you
shall chant out more rhymes
toiling and spreading Jah wonders and signs and

rainbow warrior
rainbow rainbow warrior
lord I am a rainbow a warrior
warrior of love now
yeah once again we seh

said I am a
rainbow warrior
rainbow rainbow warrior
lord I am a rainbow a warrior
a warrior of love now
so weh weh so once again we seh so so
so when I´m trodin´down in babylon
I just keep my heart so clean
so when I´m trodin´ in the deadmans town
I just keep a rainbow within

said I am rainbow
said I am rainbow

said I am rainbow warrior in babylon
said I am the wickest said I am the strongest one
well I am a rainbow warrior in babylon
avoiding all wickedness in my heart on my tongue

oh love heh
we´re spreading love
yeah
we´re spreading love
yeah

Daily Prompt <3 Kindness, Peace, and Blessings

Happy Last Day of National Poetry Month 2016! Although, of course, I think every month is Poetry Month, and every day is Poetry Day 🙂

The prompts will continue 🙂 But since I started with one of my top three favorite poems (Power by Adrienne Rich), I have to close out this month long celebration with the other two poems that fill out my top What-Poems-Would-You-Take-To-A-Deserted-Island three. 

Kindness

Naomi Shihab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. 
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

 

And….what may be my favorite (if I have to pick) poem ❤ 

A Blessing

James Wright, 19271980

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

Make art about kindness, blessings, peace. 

 

Daily Prompt <3 Returning, and Kindness

Happy National Poetry Month!

When I was fourteen and scribbling poet-y words on every scrap of paper or napkin I put my hands on, Peter Makuck, who ran the Poetry Forum at East Carolina University, was so kind to me, encouraging me to “never stop writing.” That kindness followed me and made me brave, almost twenty years later, when, terrified, I reclaimed my poet self, and went back to college, in my early thirties. The only thing larger than Peter’s big loving heart—is his talent.

Après le Déluge, or How to Return
Peter Makuck

Forget French fads,
paradigms, Foucault and Sartre,
the eggistential toothpick, the semiotic egg,
and the text beyond which there is nothing
but eggheads.

Make the river your own. Rename it the Tar
after its shiny blackness and nothing will fall
routinely into place
like that dogwood, white and dying
for attention at your window.

Tell yourself a room’s the wrong place to receive.
Quit the house like a bad job.
Hand your dead brother the shovel,
shove off in a leaky canoe,
and follow that monarch, its orange flit
above the current.
Immensity will make a return
and every face will offer less
than the smooth cool face of the water.

Let the river teach you
how to steer toward subtle surprise.
Tell me, what even comes close
to this scented air you’ve noticed for the first time?

The sun falls,
anoints the surface with orange oil.
Dark lifts from the water faster than you think.
A meander brings
a soft snicker of owl wings close to your gunnels.
Around the bend, a lamp appears
with a Coleman hiss
and a hunched figure with his hook
pole-tossed in the current.

That’s it, that’s it.
Everything you need is beginning to find you.

Make art about returning. Or about someone whose kindness changed your life.

Peter

 

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