Poetry: Nancy Willard

Before the Feast

The hen is dressed to kill. For once in her life,
she travels in style. Her wings, sleepy as sherry,
fit in their pockets of flesh like folding knives.
She weighs so little. Caught in the cook’s right hand,

she cocks her head, she shakes the light from her neck.
On the road home from the market, the sun bakes
the cook in her own juice and salts her with sweat.
The stars blow themselves out. Now the oven wakes.

— by Nancy Willard


Nancy Willard (1936-2017)
Interestingly, besides poetry and novels, Nancy was famous for her children stories — but you’d never guess by this poem. 😉   Nancy grew up in Michigan where her father was a famous chemistry professor while her mother assured that she and her sisters were exposed to literature by taking them out to the middle of a lake on idyllic summer days and read to them as their boat drifted lazily.  It is probably for these reasons, that Nancy once said: “I grew up aware of two ways of looking at the world that are opposed to each other and yet can exist side by side in the same person. One is the scientific view. The other is the magic view.”


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What Scarcity Causes

Urine PNGAn ABC article today shows this Papua New Guinea woman preparing herbal medicines (some even containing urine) which are becoming popular as effective medicines become scarce in her country.  On reading this, my mind instantly was triggered to make a fallacious association when also considering the conclusions of 2011 Sage Journal article .  Here is the condensed formal form of my mistake:

P causes I which leads to R
P causes M which leads to U
Since S causes both R & U,
R is just like U

And to spell out the logic without making you read the articles, it goes like this:

1. The Sage Article states: Economic poverty (P) causes insecurities (I) in the populations which lead to rise is religion (R).

2. The ABC article tells us that in Papua New Guinea: Economic poverty (P) causes shortages in effective medicines (M) which leads to a rise in using urine (U) as medicine.

In the comments below, to see if anyone is still reading this blog, translate “R is just like U” for me. But beware, I’ve already admitted it is a logical fallacy. LOL


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Poetry: Marjorie Sasier

Bad News Good News — by Marjorie Saiser

I was at a camp in the country,
you were home in the city,
and bad news had come to you.

You texted me as I sat
with others around a campfire.
It had been a test you and I

hadn’t taken seriously,
hadn’t worried about.
You texted the bad news word

cancer. I read it in that circle
around the fire. There was
singing and laughter to my right and left

and there was that word on the screen.
I tried to text back but,
as often happened in that county,

my reply would not send, so I went to higher ground.
I stood on a hill above the river and sent you
the most beautiful words I could manage,

put them together, each following each. Under
Ursa Major, Polaris, Cassiopeia, a space station flashing,
I said what had been said

many times, important times, foolish times:
those words soft-bodied humans say when the news is bad.
The I love you we wrap around our

need and hurl at the cosmos: Take this, you heartless
nothing and everything, take this.
I chose words to fling into the dark toward you

while the gray-robed coyote came out of hiding
and the badger wandered the unlit hill
and the lark rested herself in tall grasses;

I sent the most necessary syllables
we have, after all this time the ones we want to hear:
I said Home, I said Love, I said Tomorrow.


See more excellent poems in Sabio’s Poetry Anthology

My Impressions: Very touching, very real, very common. Well captured.

About Marjorie Saiser:

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Obstructive Mystery in Poetry

See my other posts about Poetry here

Below is a quote of Billy Collins, Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003, when he was interview by the Paris review in the Fall of 2001.

A common problem I find with much poetry is when the poet is attempting to be mysterious, as if being mysterious is a prerequisite for poetry.  In the same way, many poets feel that capitalizing lines in their stanzas, or leaving off definite articles, or using flowery language, or making obscure academic allusions, or using difficult vocabulary may be a qualifier for good poetry.

Another poet laureate and favorite poet of mine is Ted Kooser who, in his The Poetry Home Repair Manual, said “I favor poems that keep the obstacles between you and [the reader] to a minimum “.  And so, with that in mind, below is Billy Collins addressing how mystery in poetry can be an obstruction to its readers.

I feel there’s a time to be clear and a time to be mysterious in a poem. Poems that fail for me are often poems in which the poet is being mysterious about something that should be clear, or simplifying something that should be left mysterious. It’s a matter of knowing what cards should be turned over and what cards should be kept face down. Poems that turn too many cards over don’t respect the mysteriousness of life, and poems that turn over no cards are a game not really worth playing. My advice to poets is: Turn more cards over, or, Don’t turn so many cards over. I don’t want to know about that. I don’t want to see that card. If you’ve written a poem about your brother who is in the hospital undergoing surgery, well, tell us that. Why should that be a secret? Tell us the circumstances of the poem. But how you feel about this brother you’ve always felt competitive with, angry with, how you feel about him being close to death now—should remain mysterious. You can’t do that justice in twenty lines.

Let me describe a typical scenario in a workshop where a poem gets passed around the table. Everyone has a copy of the poem; the poet reads it, and there’s a polite silence. Then someone says, Well, it’s an interesting title. More silence. Someone says, That ending’s weird. Anyway, ten minutes later we conclude that no one knows what’s going on. No one has a clue, right? So you turn to the poet for help, and she says, Well, I wrote this poem when my brother was in the hospital undergoing surgery. All of a sudden the poem becomes seventy-three percent clearer. She kept that a secret. She wanted to make that mysterious. That shouldn’t be a mystery! Call the poem “Poem Written in the Hours When My Brother Was Undergoing Surgery,” and then tell us what’s going on. How you feel about your brother can be couched in imagery, fraught with uncertainty. You must remain ambivalent about such matters.

It’s like in shopping malls you have that arrow that says, You are here. The beginning of the poem should at least give you that kind of information. The romantic lyrics are so good about that because the poet always starts off by telling you where he is. You know, I’m sitting in my backyard in a lime-tree bower, or, I’m sitting up on a hill, or, I’m lying in a field, or, I’m three miles above Tintern Abbey. Location. The poem always starts with a geographical grounding wire, then moves off into areas of amazing speculation and fanciful imaginative realms.


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Conversation Topics

Generic Conversations
In this earlier post, I lamented how most conversations are superficial, with no participant exposing their opinions or experiences which could be revealing or controversial.  Superficial conversations are what grease society and useful, of course, but when that is all we do and opportunity for deep or personal conversations are reflexively avoided, I think we error.

In this post I made another complaint about those who steel conversation.  There I note that most conversations are not dialogues but instead, merely coordinated monologues with each person just waiting to steal the conversation to start up their monologue again – only pretending to listen (though they’d never want to imagine themselves that way).

In this post, I have experimented  with a diagram to illustrate the common topics of conversation.   These are neither bad or good topics, but the common one.  If people are having conversations about these topics where they can be personal, exploring the statements of others, instead of stealing and try to be open, they can be wonderful.  But they are often just mechanical monologues of sorts.

Note that in my diagram I have divided topics by both age and gender.  You will notices that topics change as we get older (kids talk about music, old folks about their grandchildren), and gender (though we all share many topics, each sex has its tendency toward specialties: women like clothes and shopping talks, men like sports).

In my next post I will give an example of a conversation I had this week that illustrates several of these issues: monologues, conversation stealing and topic by age (which is what inspired this post).  But meanwhile, let me know what you think I have forgotten or gotten wrong in my diagram. Thank you to Anna and Paul’s comments that have helped me in updating this post so far.


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Jingoistic Populism: A New Fiction

Identity Anchors

Reading The Guardian today, I saw a review of Harari’s 2015 best-selling book “Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind“. The reviewer states that the center of the book’s contention is that “what made Homo sapiens the most successful human being, supplanting rivals such as Neanderthals, was our ability to believe in shared fictions. Religions, nations and money, Harari argues, are all human fictions that have enabled collaboration and organization on a massive scale.”

In 2013 I wrote a post about how we create reifications (the packaging of abstractions).  Perhaps Harari would agree that these reifications are our “shared fictions”.

One of the greatest fictions our minds is always desperately creating is “Identity”, a sense of self.  Identity is an inevitable cognitive illusion. We use various anchors to secure our identity in our tumultuous world (thus the waves in my above diagram). Our minds use these anchors as manipulative signals to both ourselves and others that we have good-status, are trustworthy, have power, are committed, know true meaning,  have hope and more.

This takes me to a recent Peter Beinart article in The Atlantic: “Breaking Faith: The culture war over religious morality has faded; in its place is something much worse.

Beinart states the fact that participation in organized religion has hugely declined in the USA.  He contends that as people see through [my words] the fictions of religion, they need something else to serve the purposes of religion. They need some other anchor in reality – another method to signaling to themselves and others.


As the allure of religions fades, people experience an emptiness.  To replace the “God” reification, other reifications such as jingoistic nationalism or materialistic secularism come to fill the gap. Is this a “God Gap”? — no, it is a mental gap — a craving for a new fiction — an attempt to anchor down one’s identity.


Note: Also see my post on “Your Modular God” to see how the spackle used to fill the God Gap really plays a minimal role in most modern religion due to the various functions of religion.


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Clocks: Impeach or Boom!

Time til Doomsday

Remembering the nuclear doomsday clock clouding my youth, I decided to make this graphic today. What do you think?

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