Poems Hold the Mysteries of the Present, Dreams of the Future David Biespiel

“Does poetry matter? Yes. Can poetry be more relevant? No. It is the song of song, the language of language, the utterance of utterance and the spirit of spirit.”

more here



“My Reality”
May 28, 2016, 8:33 pm
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Here’s my student, Kevin, reading his poem “My Reality”

SO proud of him!

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All Things Considered
May 25, 2016, 4:57 pm
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NPR is featuring my little poetry contest winner on All Things Considered this weekend. The two of us just got done recording his poem in my classroom, the only quiet spot we could find in the facility.. (it only took him a million tries and numerous gulps of water, because, y’know, THIS IS A BIG DEAL). Be sure to tune in!

link to their post a few weeks ago with other recordings: http://www.npr.org/2016/04/30/476205460/poetry-behind-bars-the-lines-that-save-lives-sometimes-literally



Words Unlocked
May 20, 2016, 7:05 pm
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just drove back to work to wake up one of my students and tell him that he tied for FIRST PLACE in a poetry contest! ‪#‎WordsUnlocked‬ is a poetry contest for incarcerated youth across the country and HE WON. he worked so hard on this piece, and this kid has probably never won a thing in his life.. SO EXCITED! (we’re poem #2 in the link below!)

http://www.ceeas.org/2016-words-unlocked-contest-winners/



A Brief Attachment -Cate Marvin
May 18, 2016, 8:02 pm
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I regard your affections, find your teeth have
left me a bruise necklace. Those lipstick
      marks leech a trail, ear to ear, facsimile your
smile. Your 40 ounces of malt liquor, your
shrink hate, your eyes dialing 911. The hearts
you draw with ballpoint on my cigarette packs
      when I’ve left the room, penned in your girl’s

cursive, look demented, misshapen approximations
of what I refuse to hand over. It’s a nice touch,
      though: a little love to accompany the cancer.
      My thought follows you to where you spend
your days lying in bed, smoking and reading
the Beats. The accumulation of clothes and ashes
      circles you, rising like a moat after rainfall.

Often you are a study in detachment—the trigger
eye is your eye, still as a finger poised to press
      should one refuse to cooperate, and I wonder
      how you can hate men so much when you think
like one. Think of what I could be doing outside
if I could unlock the door of myself: think bikini,
      think soda fountain, think tradition, a day lacking

entirely your brand of ambivalence. If you were
a number, I’d subtract you; if you were a sentence,
      I’d rewrite you. Are you the one who left these
      wilted flowers, are you the one whose PIN spells
out H-O-L-E? Why are you wearing my clothes?
If you are weather, then I am a town, closing down
      at word of your coming: you’re a glacier on fast

forward, you’re direct as a detour, when I say
good-bye you move in next door. You say you
      want to have my baby, you want to buy me a car,
      and you’re too young to enter a bar. I should tether
you to a tree in the dark park, allow the moon to stroke
your white neck. I should give you a diamond collar,
      walk you around the block and show you off.


Eckhart Tolle
April 15, 2016, 8:46 am
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“Accept — then act. Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it. Make it your friend and ally, not your enemy. This will miraculously transform your whole life.”



Living by the Word
April 12, 2016, 8:42 pm
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“Some periods of our growth are so confusing that we don’t even recognize that growth is happening. We may feel hostile or angry or weepy and hysterical, or we may feel depressed. It would never occur to us, unless we stumbled on a book or a person who explained to us, that we were in fact in the process of change, of actually becoming larger, spiritually, than we were before. Whenever we grow, we tend to feel it, as a young seed must feel the weight and inertia of the earth as it seeks to break out of its shell on its way to becoming a plant. Often the feeling is anything but pleasant. But what is most unpleasant is the not knowing what is happening […] Those long periods when something inside ourselves seems to be waiting, holding its breath, unsure about what the next step should be, eventually become the periods we wait for, for it is in those periods that we realize that we are being prepared for the next phase of our life and that, in all probability, a new level of the personality is about to be revealed.”

-Alice Walker




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