Celebrating Library Workers During National Poetry Month

April 11 is National Library Workers' Day. In celebration, we enjoy a poem by Nikki Giovanni. (Read the rest in this wonderful Brain Pickings article about Ms. Giovanni's poems about librarians.)

A Poem for My Librarian, Mrs. Long
(You never know what troubled little girl needs a book)

At a time when there was not tv before 3:00 P.M.
And on Sunday none until 5:00
We sat on the front porches watching
The jfg sign go on and off greeting
The neighbors, discussion the political
Situation congratulating the preacher
On his sermon
There was always the radio which brought us
Songs from wlac in nashville and what we would now call
Easy listening or smooth jazz but when I listened
Late at night with my portable (that I was so proud of)
Tucked under my pillow
I heard nat king cole and matt dennis, june christy and ella fitzgerald
And sometimes sarah vaughan sing black coffee
Which I now drink
It was just called music

There was a bookstore uptown on gay street
Which I visited and inhaled that wonderful odor
Of new books
Even today I read hardcover as a preference paperback only
As a last resort

And up the hill on vine street
(The main black corridor) sat our carnegie library
Mrs. Long always glad to see you
The stereoscope always ready to show you faraway
Places to dream about

Mrs. Long asking what are you looking for today
When I wanted Leaves of Grass or alfred north whitehead
She would go to the big library uptown and I now know
Hat in hand to ask to borrow so that I might borrow

Probably they said something humiliating since southern
Whites like to humiliate southern blacks

But she nonetheless brought the books
Back and I held them to my chest
Close to my heart
And happily skipped back to grandmother’s house
Where I would sit on the front porch
In a gray glider and dream of a world
Far away

I love the world where I was
I was safe and warm and grandmother gave me neck kissed
When I was on my way to bed

But there was a world
Somewhere
Out there
And Mrs. Long opened that wardrobe
But no lions or witches scared me
I went through
Knowing there would be
Spring

by Nikki Giovanni
courtesy of Brain Pickings

Power — National Poetry Month

Listen to writer Cheryl Strayed speak about this poem, and power, and poetry, via Brain Pickings.

Power

Living in the earth-deposits of our history

Today a backhoe divulged out of a crumbling flank of earth
one bottle amber perfect a hundred-year-old
cure for fever or melancholy a tonic
for living on this earth in the winters of this climate.

Today I was reading about Marie Curie:
she must have known she suffered from radiation sickness
her body bombarded for years by the element
she had purified
It seems she denied to the end
the source of the cataracts on her eyes
the cracked and suppurating skin of her finger-ends
till she could no longer hold a test-tube or a pencil

She died a famous woman denying
her wounds
denying
her wounds came from the same source as her power.

by Adrienne Rich

courtesy Brain Pickings  

Poetry Wednesday: James Earl Jones Reads Walt Whitman

Click here to go to Brain Pickings, where, as Maria Popova writes:

In this exquisite reading from New York’s 92Y, the great James Earl Jones brings his formidable dramatic prowess to sections 6, 7, 17, 18, and 19, breathing explosive new life into Whitman’s timeless verses.

 "Song of Myself" begins grandly, sweepingly and famously:

I celebrate myself;
And what I assume you shall assume;
For every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my Soul;
I lean and loafe at my ease, observing a spear of summer grass.

Houses and rooms are full of perfumes—the shelves are crowded with perfumes;
I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it;
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.

The atmosphere is not a perfume—it has no taste of the distillation—it is odorless;
It is for my mouth forever—I am in love with it;
I will go to the bank by the wood, and become undisguised and naked;
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.

Read the entire poem here, courtesy of About.com.

NaNoWriMo: Lost in the Woods

Fellow adventurers, I share with you a fantastic entry on Brain Pickings that hopefully will serve as inspiration as you venture into unfamiliar lands during NaNoWriMo.

Click here to read the list kindly typed out by Maria Popova.

Once you are done here, go to the Brain Pickings website. Support that incredible effort and all it brings you. You'll be glad you did.

And find out more about NaNoWriMo — it's a fun challenge you'll be glad you did. Well, when it's over, you'll be glad. Like training for a marathon: it's often less painful in your rear-view mirror.

The Burning House: A Photo Experiment

What would you take with you if the house was on fire? I asked that question in one memorable Poetry Wednesday post, The valley is on fire.

Find out about Foster Huntington's book and related website, The Burning House, and how he found that answer among friends and strangers alike.

Have you written your poem on the subject? Taken a photo? Made decisions?

Book Spine Poetry

Brain Pickings' Maria Popova has published something wonderful and unexpected: book spine poetry.

I live in the future &

here is how it works

People

waste and want

everything

In Pursuit of

the Unknown

Give it a try, take a shot of your poetry and share it with me. I'll post it and give you full credit. Have fun with this!

Speaking of which, thanks to all who shared their favorite poets with me. Dede Robinson is taking home the copy of The Moon is Always Female, and all participants will receive a book of poetry. Thanks for playing, and remember: poetry is always rewarding!