September 4, 2004
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SATURDAY POEM I ADMIREi sing of Olaf glad and big
i sing of Olaf glad and big
whose warmest heart recoiled at war:
a conscientious object-orhis wellbelovéd colonel(trig
westpointer most succinctly bred)
took erring Olaf soon in hand;
but–though an host of overjoyed
noncoms(first knocking on the head
him)do through icy waters roll
that helplessness which others stroke
with brushes recently employed
anent this muddy toiletbowl,
while kindred intellects evoke
allegiance per blunt instruments–
Olaf(being to all intents
a corpse and wanting any rag
upon what God unto him gave)
responds,without getting annoyed
“I will not kiss your fucking flag”straightway the silver bird looked grave
(departing hurriedly to shave)but–though all kinds of officers
(a yearning nation’s blueeyed pride)
their passive prey did kick and curse
until for wear their clarion
voices and boots were much the worse,
and egged the firstclassprivates on
his rectum wickedly to tease
by means of skilfully applied
bayonets roasted hot with heat–
Olaf(upon what were once knees)
does almost ceaselessly repeat
“there is some shit I will not eat”our president,being of which
assertions duly notified
threw the yellowsonofabitch
into a dungeon,where he diedChrist(of His mercy infinite)
i pray to see;and Olaf,toopreponderatingly because
unless statistics lie he was
more brave than me:more blond than you.ee cummings, 1931
I could have picked any one of a dozen Cummings poems, but chose this one because of our current state of affairs in the world. I was delighted when I discovered Cummings in my youth and found you could mess with punctuation and word order and capitalization and how a poem looks on the page. Apparently, lots of other folks were too, as he was the second most read poet in America after Robert Frost when he died in 1962. Like Whitman he was an ambulance driver in WWI, spent time as a POW, and was an in-your-face war protestor. We need these kind of voices now. BAD.
Deep Thought: Consider the daffodil. And while you’re doing that, I’ll be over here, looking through your stuff.
Today I am grateful for: Conscience
Guess the Movie: “When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall. Think of it. Always.” Answer: Gandhi, 1982
End of Day – 9:37 pm
+ = Just got home from an 18-year birthday meeting of a woman I sponsor in Recovery.
- = Kind of scary to hear about Clinton’s heart surgery. What a wake up call.
Comments (9)
he is a fantastic writer…keep them coming…
I’ve not read much of his work. A very interesting piece this was. Thanks for sharing it.
Interesting piece.. I’m glad you posted this. I recently posted one of his poems on Xanga, partly because I’m just now reading him, and also he is the feature poet for this month in my Yahoo group, Bailey’s Java Cafe. You’re more than welcome to drop by and check out the group if you’d like.
<li>Bailey’s Java Cafe
i think cummings one of the greats, actually. he’s like a zen master. and i’ve stayed away from reading his bio, liking to keep this image of him as a delightfully wise old sage. you know, the fool or delightful magician of the tarot who is really the experience and wisdom and compassion of the hermit.
In the zen analogy, he is then more like Thich Nhat Hanh, who is both buddhist and activist.
what is that movie? I don’t recognize it. Cool poem and it does fit what’s going on right now. Hey did you go downtown when Kerry and Bush were here?
Movie hint: Said by a now dead spiritual giant.
a universal mind…thank you…feelings such as you have are permeating me also,,,blessings,beckon
so timely