Sow flowers so your surroundings become a garden
Dont sow thorns; for they will prick your feet
If you shoot arrows at others,
Know that the same arrow will come back to hit you.
Dont dig a well in anothers path,
In case you come to the wells edge
You look at everyone with hungry eyes
But you will be first to become mere dirt.
Humans are all one body,
Whoever tortures another, wounds himself.
(quoted from url) "A short video tour of Norra Begravningsplatsen ("The Northern Cemetery"), accompanied by a reading recorded by Regina Derieva. The graves of Regina Derieva (1949-2013), Ingrid Bergman, August Strindberg, Sofia Kovalevskaya and Alfred Nobel are presented in this video clip.
Dedgar whizzed through NYC recently and stopped at 4 poets' graves. One of them was the little known early lesbian/feminist poet & playwright, Mercedes DeAcosta, buried in Trinity Cemetery. (See pictures)
From a post about her love life: After Cecil Beaton accompanied her to the theater one night in 1930, he wrote in his diary that he sensed people looking at him and questioning why he associated with "that furious lesbian." She often boasted of her sexual prowess, saying "I can get any woman from any man." There was perhaps justification for Alice B. Toklas's observation, "Say what you will about Mercedes de Acosta, she's had the most important women of the twentieth century." Even though these women included Isadora Duncan, Eva Le Gallienne, Greta Garbo, and Marlene Dietrich, she is usually portrayed as something of a perverse psychopath.
The celebrants at the various Dead Poets Remembrance Day events last week were so busy and blessed listening to great poetry and stories that taking taking pictures was not a priority. Did manage to snap a few, however. Check them out, and over 5,000 other photos related to poets' graves, at our Flickr collections.
Carolyn Kizer, a Pulitzer Prize-winning poet whose verse, overtly political and bitingly satirical, came, as she fondly put it, with “a sting in the tail,” died on Thursday in Sonoma, Calif. She was 89.
Ms. Kizer’s poetry is known for its wit, deep intellectualism and rigorous craftsmanship; its stylistic hallmarks include impeccably calibrated rhyme, near-rhyme and meter. It is unsentimental, at times unsettling, but also luminous and warm...
Ms. Kizer’s poetry could be autobiographical, spanning her childhood, her two marriages, the births of her three children and her friendships. But there was a steeliness to it — and a keen sense of humor — that distinguished it from the self-reflexive work of the confessional poets.
She was sometimes called a poet of love and loss, a description whose murky universality irritated her greatly, for what poet’s work, at bottom, is not about those things?
DPRD is short for Dead Poets Remembrance Day and this year more and more folks are gathering to celebrate. As of Sept 28 there are 7 confirmed events, with more in the works. Check out the National DPRD blog for links to Amherst (9-4),
For millions of Iranians all over the world, Behbahani represented the invincible power of the Iranian psyche. Her words were piercing and fierce, lamenting on the lack of freedom of expression through the ages. For six decades, many Iranians found refuge in her poetry as a way to nurture their hunger for dialogue, peace, human rights and equality.
Words can't describe what a fantastic time my film crew and I had on the second leg of the Western States Grand Tour! We met more wonderful living poets and family members who spoke to us on camera, AND each day the surrounding beauty (see pictures) was really quite breathtaking.
Along with Dedgar the Poemobile and my son, Simon, we traversed through nine Western States in 40 days of amazing sights and sounds and the Great Western Tour. Along the journey we documented 57 poets' graves and met so many tremendous people and poets. Thank you to all who met us along the way. Dedgar is parked and ready in Denver to begin the 2nd half of the tour on June 20th.
From the NYT: "Books and reading were encouraged in their small apartment, as Mr. Agüeros recalled in “Halfway to Dick and Jane,” an essay he contributed to “The Immigrant Experience,” an anthology that came out in 1971.
“As I became a good reader they bought books for me and never refused me money for their purchase,” he wrote. “My father once built a bookcase for me. It was an important moment, for I had always believed that my father was not too happy about my being a bookworm.”
Have just come across the remarkable story of poet Mark O'Brien, who lived in the BayArea and had two films made about his life. At the age of 6 he was stricken with polio and he wrote his poetry even though he needed an "iron lung" to stay alive.
Seems as though he has one of the most unique burial places, as he loved baseball and horses, so it is reported that he was buried at Golden Gate Fields, a racetrack near Oakland.
March 15th -- The Dead Poets Society of America has announced the Dead Poets Western States Grand Tour 2014.
The historic 80-grave journey (see map) will start April 14th, in Colorado Springs and end in Montana in mid July. Along the way Dedgar The Poemobile will be meeting many LIVE poets as well who will meet us at the graves to read and reflect.
Final dates and details of the itinerary will be announced soon. Hop on board the Dead Poets Train and be a part of making literary history. Po'ward!
But I see a cat (!) She is sleeping.
Now, a man enters. He walks into the poet’s grave chamber. He joins his palms and murmurs a… prayer perhaps. He sits down on the marble floor and arranges the flowers on Ghalib’s grave. He holds the tombstone in his arms and sings a verse by… Ghalib, perhaps.
A few minutes pass.
Now, he gets up and leaves.
The place is again empty. Except for the cat. She is still asleep. It is a beautiful moment.
(A found poem; found here)
Mr. O’Gorman said he was inspired to open his school, in 1966, by reading radical education theorists like Paul Goodman. But the reality was simpler. “I was merely a fool poet,” he said, “with nothing but poetry in his bag, hoping the energy and joy that brought poems from chaos would carry me to the children.”
Banjo Paterson, Australia's bush poet, celebrated during 150th anniversary:
This is an iconic poet for Australia. We want to make sure that younger generations are aware of Banjo and his contribution to Australia,” Taste Orange executive officer Rhonda Sear said.
“His songs and stories picked up a lot of things that are the basis of our view of ourselves,” Fahey said. “Loneliness in the bush, walking off properties, dealing with natural disasters and financial ruin. They were all covered by Paterson.”
See accompanying article: Banjo Paterson: is he still the bard of the bush?
Where Paterson took a Romanticist view of the outback – Wordsworth was an influence – Lawson favoured a social realist perspective, emphasising the harshness of the environment and the inequality between (poor) selectors and (rich) squatters, rather like the homesteaders and ranchers in the US west. For all its faults the modern city, argued Lawson, was where the egalitarian dream of a democratic Australia could more likely be achieved.
In the literary joust between Paterson and Lawson over the basis for Australian national identity, the former won out in terms of sales. The audience warmed to his wistful humour and underlying optimism, and could not bear too much of Lawson’s grim reality.
The fact that relatively few Australians have ever lived in the bush and thus experienced for themselves the isolation, monotony and physical hardships worked to Paterson’s advantage.
His outback is the stuff of myth, though at the same time his vision is never merely fanciful. According to the leading contemporary Australian poet Les Murray, Paterson, even at his broadest, “carries us into a legendary Australia he did much to create, a country in part bygone, in part fictional, in part still there”.
Long, fascinating article in the Daily Beast, (2.16.14) of all places, about "Lord" Byron. It relates Byron to the international politics of our day. Excerpt:
It’s certainly true that he exhibited one of the hallmarks of the 19th century Orientalist: the frisson he experienced in the Near East was mostly sexual. “I am dying for the love of three Greek girls at Athens, sisters,” he wrote his friend Henry Drury in 1810. “Teresa, Mariana, and Katinka are the names of these divinities—all of them under fifteen.” (Teresa inspired the poem “Maid of Athens, Ere We Part.”) But even amid such dissipations, there was powerful paradox at work in Byron’s character: the spoiled, aristocratic posturing, luxurious living, and reckless sport-fucking competed with a core seriousness founded on a hatred of injustice and a sincere internationalism.
Unlike British radicals of more recent vintage, Byron was profoundly pro-American despite never having traveled to the constitutional republic he thought a model for all civilized nations, including his own. He associated the “first tidings that have ever sounded like Fame” not with his domestic critical reception (far from adulatory) but with hearing that his poems were now read on the banks of the Ohio River.