Friday, August 11, 2017

Poems Inspired by Greek Philosophers

cutest swap graphic ever!
Hello and Happy Poetry Friday! Be sure to visit Margaret at Reflections on the Teche for Roundup.

Now that baby boy is back in school, I can start catching up! I'm excited today to share with you the first Poem Swap treasure I received this summer... from Margaret, coincidentally! But first: bushels of hugs and kisses to Tabatha for creating and organizing the Poem Swap across the seasons! What a gift to all of us!

So. Margaret's poem was from a prompt in THE PRACTICE OF POETRY by Robin Behn and Chase Twichell to use a Greek Philosopher's quote as an epigraph. Here is her beautiful poem (which reminds me of my "sky" year!):

Listen to the Voice of the Sky
Dark and light, bad and good, are not different but one and the same. - Heraclitus

Listen
to the voice of the sky
which knows darkness
and light
are the same.

The sky plays
with light and shadow
as a cathedral painted
in stained glass.

Look to the sky
a gauge for weather --
acceptance of rain
as necessary,

indispensable,

as grass to the cow,
as solitude to awareness,
as life is to death.

- Margaret Simon

Lovely, isn't it?! And because this is what often happens during Poem Swap, I was inspired to write my own poem with a Greek philosopher's quote as an epigraph. Some of Margaret's themes bled into my poem as well.

A Murmuration of Acceptance

One thing I know, that I know nothing. This is the source of my wisdom. - Socrates

The day I learned I knew nothing,
poems swarmed the sky,
swooped across the sun like starlings,
as if one body
instead of a thrum of heartbeats,
a frenzy of syllables, 
a symphony of questions.

Nothing settled onto my chest
like a parched elephant,
not moving except for that endless lake
of skin twitching against flies,
and a voice said, you are exactly
where you are meant to be,

and in an instant the elephant dissolved –
all my worries retreated
to another kingdom,
my carefully constructed fears
crumbled and fell into a well 
with no bucket, no rope.

I knew nothing, but I wasn't lost.
Not part of the flock anymore,
not even a bird or a feather 
or a mite on a softly tucked wing.
Wisdom merely a small scrawl of letters,
and me the air a nightingale swallows 
when it sings –

not a song, no. Less than a breath,
for those accountants among us:
breath of a breath,
that can only ever become wind
when joined by a million
other jumbled alphabets 
brave enough to shape themselves
into words like nothing and forever,
before they, too, disappear.

- Irene Latham

Anyone else want to write a poem inspired by a Greek philosopher? Find quotes here.

22 comments:

  1. I love how calming Margaret's poem is, and the idea of poems swooping like starlings and "me the air a nightingale swallows when it sings."
    I followed the link, intrigued by the idea of writing a poem inspired by a Greek philosopher, and found a poem by that famous philosopher, Aristotle Onassis: "If women didn't exist, all the money in the world would have no meaning." (There's definitely a poem in wondering "What gives money meaning? And what would take it away?")

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  2. I started to say this is a favorite line, then just kept on because it is all such a lovely thought, Irene: "breath of a breath,
    that can only ever become wind
    when joined by a million
    other jumbled alphabets
    brave enough to shape themselves
    into words like nothing and forever,
    before they, too, disappear.

    Margaret's poem, too, brings an opening to write, for you and others. Beautiful post to read today!

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  3. These are both gorgeous, Irene. I love the power of these lines: "...you are exactly/where you are meant to be..." Thank you for this inspiring post!

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  4. Swoon-worthy, both poems. Such an intriguing prompt. Images that will stay with me.... and add depth to the comment you left over my way today! Thank you. XO

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  5. Two beautiful poems! I love how the Poetry Swap shares and inspires ever more poetry in ever-widening circles.

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  6. Kay, said it better than I could!

    I feel like the "mite on a softly tucked wing."

    I'm off to find my own Greek quote!

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  7. Wow! I love both of these poems. Thank you!

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    Replies
    1. Oh, and I loved your "13 Reasons Why Not," which I read at someone else's blog this morning. I am going to share it with my students, since so many of them are watching that series. I think it will be a great prompt for them.

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  8. The poetic conversation with people that existed long ago yet on a same journey of seeking....it's so much more than what "wow" and "stunning" and "amazing" can express. I am changed by the conversation. And, I think I will enter it....some time. We poets are such lovers of philosophy, aren't we? What a wonderful post. This is one to bookmark.

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  9. I love both your poems and the idea of dialoging together with poems. I want to listen to the sky's voice now and find that place where breaths from a million alphabets become wind!

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  10. Both of your poems are fabulous!

    Love the light in these:
    "The sky plays
    with light and shadow
    as a cathedral painted
    in stained glass."

    These lines of yours are so visual and, well, uncomfortable:
    "not moving except for that endless lake
    of skin twitching against flies."

    and

    "Less than a breath,
    for those accountants among us:
    breath of a breath,"

    ... I think I'm floating!

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  11. I love that second stanza of Margaret's. And Irene, wow. You poem is stellar. I love the images, the coming and going and disappearing. The wisdom, a cypher, an idea. Very beautiful poem.

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  12. "The sky plays with light and shadow as a cathedral painted in stained glass..." brought me back to our wonderful trip to the UK last month and a magical afternoon at Exeter Cathedral. And your "a million
    other jumbled alphabets brave enough to shape themselves into words" paints a picture of poetic possibilities for me. Thank you, Irene. -- Christie @ https://wonderingandwondering.wordpress.com/

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  13. Oh, how these words wove themselves so elegantly into poems! Such a treat! I think Poetry Friday offerings and Poem Swaps have matured over the past 5 or 6 years - as I guess they should.
    You inspired me to look at the philosophers and settled on Odysseus Elytis: "You'll come to learn a great deal if you study the Insignificant in depth". I will be posting this poem (thanks for inspiring me to squeeze out another bit of a poem):

    The Small Sun

    When I looked at the dandelion
    Its sun sparkled countenance
    Returned my gaze and
    Reached small rays toward the heavens
    To touch the sun’s own outstretched
    burly beams.
    “Pick me and see
    I am the same
    As that sun in the blue,”
    I held up the radiant blossom
    By its pale hollow stem
    and covered the sun
    With its grin.

    by Donna JT Smith, 8/13/2017

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    Replies
    1. You know, I'm going to change the word "covered the sun" to "eclipsed the sun" when I post it. My OLW "reach" is here, too!

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    2. Appropriate for next week. Maybe we should spread the word and create eclipse poems. I love how the thread is flowing and weaving us all together with our words.

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    3. That would be a fun theme - and I'd have mine done already! I'll make a note on this Friday's post, though it may be too late to get word around. Many may already be thinking that anyway.

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  14. Your response poem is breathtaking. I want to read it again and again. To be part of the murmuration from which this poem arose is so humbling to me, I feel like a speck of dirt. But not fearful at all because I know from where the wind comes. Thank you, dear friend.

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  15. The two of you; the Greeks; light and dark, ignorance and wisdom, acceptance. I send you both a murmuration of admiration.

    I also read your "Thirteen Reasons Why Not," and if I may say, Irene, you have always been a talent, but recently I feel like you have stepped up a few rungs on the Master Poet ladder. The confidence and ease in your writing is gripping. Thank you for

    Nothing settled onto my chest
    like a parched elephant,
    not moving except for that endless lake
    of skin twitching against flies,
    and a voice said, you are exactly
    where you are meant to be..."

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  16. These are two very deeply moving poems, I like the stepping off points you both took from the original philosophers. How timely Margaret's is with light and dark being accepted as the same–if only we could look upon all individuals this way. And yours Irene, knowing nothing humbles us and allows a sea to fill us up, as in this passage of your poem,
    "Not part of the flock anymore,
    not even a bird or a feather
    or a mite on a softly tucked wing.
    Wisdom merely a small scrawl of letters,
    and me the air a nightingale swallows
    when it sings"

    lovely, thanks!

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Your thoughts?