Tag Archives: poetry

Other People’s Thoughts: Bosque County Romance

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When I first moved to Yunnan in 2000, my cousin sent with me a two-CD album of cover songs by Lyle Lovett for the purpose, she said, of reminding me of Texas. Step Inside This House became my “homesick music” over the next decade in China. The album lives and breathes home for me. If you’re not familiar with it, you should change that. Each of the songs is poetry in the form of words and guitar. I regularly included selections from the album on my playlist when I worked at Mountain Cafe — it just made me happy, in a simple way, to be in tropical Xishuangbanna, palm trees overhead and fruity drink in hand, to hear Lyle singing “Texas River Song” or mentioning places like Waco or Abilene.

Now that I’m back in the States, the songs from Step Inside This House continue to make my regular playlist. I wrote on the blog last August how “West Texas Highway” and “Ballad of the Snow Leopard and the Tanqueray Cowboy” were part of my soundtrack as I looked through my grandparents’ photos and schemed about putting together a book on West Texas. Not long after, that book began taking more definite shape, and I continue to turn to those songs for writing inspiration. As I interviewed my grandparents earlier this year, they would often have the satellite on their TV turned to the honky tonk radio channel, and many of the songs from Step Inside This House would come up, though in their original recordings, rather than in Lyle’s versions — those songs literally became a soundtrack to the book, as my voice recorder picked up the music in the background while we conducted our interviews. Then, when I spent a few extra days in the Fort Davis area after Pat and Randy headed home from our road trip in March, I mainly chose these CDs as my playlist for my solo drives.

And now, as I’m 50+ pages into the writing of the first draft of West Texas Interlude, I come to the part of the story where Bob D and Ann (my grandparents) tell of how they got married at ages 20 and 18, set off in their car for the desert, and started raising a family in the dust and drought of 1950s West Texas. How could I not think of “Bosque County Romance,” the third song in Steven Fromholz’s “Texas Trilogy” that opens the second disk of Step Inside This House? Change the names Billy and Mary to Bob and Ann, and it sounds so similar to stories I’ve heard from my grandparents. It’s a beautiful song, with Alison Krauss singing harmony.

The song is a story of love built on more than passing emotion, built on a life lived together working in the same direction. It’s the same story of love I see in my grandparents — it’s one of many things I’ve learned and seen in them that I aspire to as well.

I’d love to embed a video of it here, but alas, I could not find one. Here are a few of the lyrics instead:

Mary Martin was a schoolgirl

Just seventeen or so

When she married Billy Archer

About fourteen years ago

Not even out of high school

Folks said it wouldn’t last

But when you grow up in the country

You grow up mighty fast

 

They married in a hurry

In March before school was out

Folks said that she was pregnant,

“Just wait and you’ll find out.”

It came about that winter

One gray November morn

The first of many more to come

A baby boy was born…

 

Now Billy kept what cattle

His daddy could afford

Bouncing across the cactus

In a 1950 Ford

The cows were sick and skinny

And the weeds was all that grew

But Billy kept the place alive

The only thing he knew

 

And Mary cooked the supper

And Mary scrubbed the clothes

And Mary busted horses

And blew the baby’s nose

And Mary and a shotgun

Kept the rattlesnakes away

How she kept on smiling

No one one could ever say…

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Other People’s Thoughts: Hope Beyond the Blue

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Sometimes the only way to return is to go

Where the winds will take you,

To let go of all you cannot hold onto

For the hope beyond the blue

- Josh Garrels in “Beyond the Blue” from Love & War & The Sea In Between

My personality and work style tends toward the type that likes to get things done. Identify the problem, figure out the solution, make a list of steps, put my head down and work until the job is finished.

Some things in life don’t resolve themselves in such a methodical way. Some problems can’t be solved by coming to a pragmatic conclusion and putting in the man hours to work it all out. Looking back over the years of my life as an adult, much of my greatest growth as a follower of Jesus has come when I’m in those types of situations, when I have to let go of my control of a situation, let go of my expectations for how things should play out. Even if what I’m expecting or envisioning or praying for doesn’t seem overly selfish, even if it seems like it would be a good thing and could bring a measure of glory to God, ultimately I just don’t know everything in this life — and my deepest joy comes in the moments when I can glimpse beyond the Right Now into that place “where the winds will take you” when I’m completely surrendered to God.

Check out Josh Garrels’s music on his website. You can get a free download of his latest album — powerful, meaningful lyrics.

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Reflecting on a Year of Poetry

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I haven’t mentioned it on the blog since, oh, let’s see, it looks like it was last June, but 2011 was the year I started trying to read a poem a day. To recap, I’ve always been a bit intimidated by poetry and haven’t made the time to read much in the past, but when I do read poetry, my mind and thoughts slow down to a pace that is much healthier for my heart and soul. So, I wanted to take time each day for a year to read a poem, preferably out loud.

You might have guessed from the fact that I didn’t mention it again in the second half of the year, but I didn’t exactly read 365 poems in 2011. I did read a couple hundred more than I read in 2010 or any preceding year, though. I started the year off right with Wendell Berry and A Timbered Choir, then read a couple of not-so-memorable books by people whose names I won’t mention (because they’re not memorable), then got bogged down in Emily Dickinson in the summer. Her poems aren’t boggy, but the large “collected poems” volume of hers is quite boggy if you don’t take a break from it. Somewhere around July I found myself reading a poem every other day, then every couple of days. Soon after that, I was reading only poems I came across in literary journals or posted as poem-of-the-day by a few people I follow on Twitter or Facebook.

Honestly, I’m ok with that. Mostly because in 2010 I would skip over a poem in a magazine or newsfeed. Now, I stop and read them. It’s not the same (i.e. not as good, as beneficial, as dedicated) as reading through an entire set of poems by one person, but it has helped expose me to a great many more poets than I’ve ever read before, including some writers who are my contemporaries.

On January 1st of this year, I found myself sitting under a group of trees on the banks of the Columbia, looking back on a few of my favorite poems from last year, trying to take Wendell Berry’s advice about how to read his poetry. My desire to keep reading poems on a regular basis is renewed. As I read back over some of my posts on poetry from last year, I was reminded of my quest to read more poets who aren’t white and from the eastern part of the U.S. My friend Erin left a comment suggesting Rabindranath Tagore, a Bengali poet from the previous century. I remember at the time she left the comment, the library here in the Tri-Cities didn’t have anything by him, and I never got around to finding his work anywhere else. This year, however, the library has a brand new copy of an anthology of his — which makes me wonder if he’s suddenly under demand by others in the Tri-Cities or if the librarians can see a list of search terms and ordered this book after I looked for it. Helpful, but sort of creepy (although, who am I to complain, with my fascination for looking at search terms?).

To sum up, if my goal had been to check a poem a day off a list in my 2011 calendar, I failed. But since I wanted to develop a greater appreciation for poetry, one that I hope lasts a lifetime, I’m calling the year a success.

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Fave Books of 2011

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Here it is, the not-so-clever introduction to my list of favorite books from the year. Last year was the first time for me to post such a list, and I really enjoy thinking through these types of things at year end, so here I am again.

On 2010’s list were two novels and three nonfiction books. This year I’m including two novels, three nonfiction books, and one book of poetry (hey! I read a whole book of poetry this year!). And just a note for anyone who cares about this sort of thing — this isn’t a list of books from 2011, but a list of favorites that I read this year. I’m not always so up on things that I actually read books the year they come out.

Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl: Wide Eyed Wonder in God’s Spoken World by N.D. Wilson — I wrote an Other People’s Thoughts post about this one in May and how affected I was both by the truths Wilson presents and by the masterful and artistic way that he presents them. I recently started rereading the book, again in an airport of all places. I guess I really need the poetic and the divine when I’m in transit.

Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry — I sort of am in love with Jayber Crow. The character and the book. It was my first Berry novel to read, followed later this year by Hannah Coulter. Berry has a lot to say about love, and I like what he says about it in both novels, but Jayber Crow did a better job of completely stealing my heart. (Goodness, am I making Berry sound like a romance novelist? He’s quite the opposite.)

A Timbered Choir: the Sabbath Poems 1979-1997 by Wendell Berry — My poetry year started off with this book of Berry’s poems and changed the way I approach poetry: namely, I actually do approach poetry now. Before, it always made me feel nervous and intimidated. I learned so much from reading through this book of Sabbath poems and am thinking about starting off 2012 with it as well. (See posts on this book here, here, and here)

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot — Crazy that I’m including a book with so much info on cellular biology and medical ethics, but somehow it works. The story was riveting, partly because it’s true and partly because Skloot does a terrific job of putting all the pieces together. I learned a lot about writing creative nonfiction from reading this one.

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte — I wrote a lengthy post about why this is an all-time favorite. Read it to find out.

Country Driving by Peter Hessler — Another wonderful piece of creative nonfiction. I love reading Hessler’s writing on China in the last 10 or so years (Oracle Bones is another favorite), and I also enjoy seeing how he frames a story and brings it all together. Country Driving was of particular interest to me this year, as I’m working on my own book about a road trip, though mine will be through West Texas instead of China.

Honorable Mention: A Praying Life by Paul Miller — I’ll be honest, the writing in this one wasn’t spectacular — it’s not bad, though, it just doesn’t stand out. But what Miller has to say in the book has impacted my life and thinking more than just about anything I read this year. He completely pinned me down on his descriptions of cynicism and how it affects our faith. I’m still struggling with how to live in what he calls the desert that lies between hope and reality and how my being in that desert for a few years now is affecting my prayers. This book is another one that I’ve picked up to reread sections at the close of the year.

What have you enjoyed reading this year?

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Other People’s Thoughts: Keeping Sabbath at Home

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This one is classic Emily Dickinson — and it’s so very appropriate that it showed up in my daily poetry reading on the Sunday I’m stuck at home with a stomach bug.

“Some keep the Sabbath going to church;

I keep it staying at home,

With bobolink for a chorister,

And an orchard for a dome.

 

Some keep the Sabbath in surplice;

I just wear my wings,

And instead of tolling the bell for church,

Our little sexton sings.

 

God preaches, — a noted clergyman, —

And the sermon is never long;

So instead of getting to heaven at last,

I’m going all along!”

 

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Summer Reading List, 2011

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I’ve been meaning to write this post for a few weeks, but it’s hard to get motivated for a summer reading post when it still doesn’t seem like summer here in the Tri-Cities. Last weekend was nice and sunny, but the weather could only be classified as warm, not hot. I guess I need to continue refining my definition of the seasons.

Nevertheless, here it is, my summer reading list. I liked the categories I used in my “Reading List for 2011, the first half,” so I’ll go with some of those again and give a bit of follow-up to what I’ve read so far this year. As always, you can check out my shelves on Goodreads for more titles.

Poetry — My poem-a-day goal for 2011 is going well. I finished (and loved) A Timbered Choir by Wendell Berry. I read a short book of poems by Gary Soto, and now I’m working on Emily Dickinson for a while.

Writing — I started Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg but lost motivation to finish it. I hope to pick it up and read a few essays here and there to wrap it up over the next couple of months. I also still need to read Creative Nonfiction magazine’s Keep it Real — I’m working on a couple of articles and a new book idea that would benefit from these essays on writing nonfiction.

Nonfiction — Not much change from my previous list, I’m sad to say, so I’m going to make a more reachable goal: I want to read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks as soon as I can get it off the waiting list at the library.

Fiction — I did read (and loved) the novel Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry, so now I just need to revisit Jane Eyre. I’ve been looking forward to that for months, but somehow other books keep sneaking their way in ahead of it. What better time than summer to indulge in an old favorite?

What are your reading plans for the summer?

 

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A Garden in Our Minds

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April is National Poetry Month, and in a few days I will finish reading my first book of poetry during my year of reading a poem a day. For my first book, I chose A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems 1979-1997 by Wendell Berry. I have thoroughly enjoyed the past few months of reading Berry’s poetry out loud each day, and I look forward to reading his novel Jayber Crow soon (as I promised myself to do in my reading list for the first half of 2011).

A few lines from Berry’s Sabbath poems of 1992 that I found fitting for this season of the year:

“The winter world of loss

And grief is gone. The night

Is past. Along the whole

Length of the river, birds

Are singing in the trees.

 

Again, hope dreams itself

Awake. The year’s first lambs

Cry in the morning dark.

And, after all, we have

A garden in our minds.”

 

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Other People’s Thoughts: Reading Aloud

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“These poems were written in silence, in solitude, mainly out of doors. A reader will like them best, I think, who reads them in similar circumstances — at least in a quiet room. They would be most favorably heard if read aloud into a kind of quietness that is not afforded by any public place. I hope that some readers will read them as they were written: slowly, and with more patience than effort.”

Wendell Berry, in the preface to his collection of Sabbath poems, A Timbered Choir

I’m three weeks in to my attempt at reading a poem a day in 2011, and I’ve taken Berry’s advice in reading each of his poems aloud, slowly, though I think I need both patience and effort. So far it’s been an experience both enjoyable and beneficial, bringing a stillness and quietness to my soul as I let the words tumble around in my mouth and work their way into the deep places of my mind. For years I’ve read the Psalms aloud for the same reason.

Kennewick has been chilly with gusty winds since I arrived, so I haven’t ventured out to read poetry out of doors — I want the pages to stay in my book. Maybe when spring arrives I’ll move my daily reading outside.

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A Year of Poetry

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I’ve never been much of one for New Year’s resolutions, though during my years in Asia I had a tendency to spend time around Chinese New Year looking back and looking ahead.  Sometimes this meant setting goals, sometimes it meant trying to gain clearer focus on the work I was doing at the time, sometimes it meant celebrating that I’d made it another year.

I don’t even know when Chinese New Year is this year, for the first time in a decade.  Just haven’t gotten around to googling it.  So I must be fully back on a Western schedule, for better or worse.

Before I came back to the States at the end of last March, I ordered several books I wanted to read and had them waiting for me when I arrived.  Old habit.  Order ahead so that everything’s ready on arrival, even though this time I wouldn’t be heading back overseas any time soon.

Among those books, three are by Wendell Berry, a recommendation that came from several places at once, a sure sign that I needed to start reading him soon.  But the books have sat on my to-read shelf for close to a year now, pushed aside for all the writing books and young adult novels that marked my reading in 2010.

So I’ve decided that 2011 will be my year of poetry.  Or my first year of poetry, it’s hard to tell yet.  I cannot push Wendell Berry aside any longer, and I’m starting with A Timbered Choir: the Sabbath Poems 1979-1997.  I want to read a poem each day in 2011.  A Timbered Choir should take me through March or April.

After that, I may start on the collected poems of Emily Dickinson.  I picked up a hardcover copy last spring at Larry McMurtry’s bookstore in Archer City, on my way to see Willie Nelson in Wichita Falls.  There’s a combination for you — Larry McMurtry, Willie Nelson, and Emily Dickinson.  I felt a need to buy something, anything, at McMurtry’s store, and that book of poems for $5 is what I found after four buildings worth of rummaging.

After I spend a while with Miss Dickinson, I’m not sure where I’ll turn next.  Probably someone not from the eastern part of the States, or maybe not from the States at all.  Any suggestions?  I have 365 days of poems to fill.

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