Here are some miscellaneous pics from Bloomington and Indy. The statues are on the IUPUI campus. Enjoy!
A Shropshire Lad XXXV: On the idle hill of summer
On the idle hill of summer,
Sleepy with the flow of streams,
Far I hear the steady drummer
Drumming like a noise in dreams.
Far and near and low and louder
On the roads of earth go by,
Dear to friends and food for powder,
Soldiers marching, all to die.
East and west on fields forgotten
Bleach the bones of comrades slain,
Lovely lads and dead and rotten;
None that go return again.
Far the calling bugles hollo,
High the screaming fife replies,
Gay the files of scarlet follow:
Woman bore me, I will rise.
I Counsel You Beware
Good creatures, do you love your lives
And have you ears for sense?
Here is a knife like other knives,
That cost me eighteen pence.
I need but stick it in my heart
And down will come the sky,
And earth’s foundations will depart
And all you folk will die.
My Commentary
I’ve combined these two into a single poem
TO BE A MAN
What does it mean to be a man
and not a child?
Perhaps it means to be a child
and not a man.
The child is helpless.
The man is not.
And what are you but helpless, mortal man?
The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.
I started this 100 Day Project on May 11th. My project is to read a poem, and write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by that poem. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project/
Enjoy!
For Each Ecstatic Instant
For each ecstatic instant
We must an anguish pay
In keen and quivering ratio
To the ecstasy.
For each beloved hour
Sharp pittances of years,
Bitter contested farthings
And coffers heaped with tears.
Prodigal Son
What was given…
Me at birth
Was not Heaven,
It was Earth.
Though some other
House be fine,
Strange old Father,
This is mine.
My Commentary
I’ve combined these two into a single poem
WHERE AM I?
Where am I, do you ask?
Right where I left you last.
Find me again alone
not too far from your home.
Hold my hand and take heart,
Not again shall we part.
The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.
I started this 100 Day Project on May 11th. My project is to read a poem, and write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by that poem. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project/
Enjoy!
From the Book of Hours
I am praying again, Awesome One.
You hear me again, as words
from the depths of me
rush toward you in the wind.
I’ve been scattered in pieces,
torn by conflict,
mocked by laughter,
washed down in drink.
In alleyways I sweep myself up
out of garbage and broken glass.
With my half-mouth I stammer you,
who are eternal in your symmetry.
I lift to you my half-hands
in wordless beseeching, that I may find again
the eyes with which I once beheld you.
I am a house gutted by fire
where only the guilty sometimes sleep
before the punishment that devours them
hounds them out into the open.
I am a city by the sea
sinking into a toxic tide
I am strange to myself, as though someone unknown
had poisoned my mother as she carried me.
It’s here in all the pieces of my shame
that now I find myself again.
I yearn to belong to something, to be contained
in an all-embracing mind that sees me
as a single thing.
I yearn to be held
in the great hands of your heart—
oh let them take me now.
Into them I place these fragments, my life,
and you, God—spend them however you want.
From the Book of Hours
So God, you are the one
who comes after.
It is sons who inherit,
while fathers die.
Sons stand and bloom.
You are my heir.
My Commentary
I’ve combined these two into a single poem
WHEN WILL YOU LEARN
Passers by all in odd veneer,
foppery and fakery in forms refined
and expertly practiced before gilt mirrors.
When will you learn to be yourself
and trust your own true reflection?
What are you in your heart?—
the infant heart that beats within your heart?—
and the moment of your conception
when you and your God last were one?
Lose that and all is lost—
that is death.
Both of these poems came from Rilke’s Book of Hours, translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy, which you can purchase on Amazon.
The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.
I started this 100 Day Project on May 11th. My project is to read a poem, and write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by that poem. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project/
Enjoy!
A Day Like Any Other
Such insignificance: a glance
at your record on the doctor’s desk
or a letter not meant for you.
How could you have known? It’s not true
that your life passes before you
in rapid motion, but your watch
suddenly ticks like an amplified heart,
the hands freezing against a white
that is a judgment.
Otherwise nothing.
The face in the mirror is still yours.
Two men pass on the sidewalk
and do not stare at your window.
Your room is silent, the plants
locked inside their mysterious lives
as always.
The queen-of-the-night
refuses to bloom, does not accept
your definition.
It makes no sense,
your scanning the street for a traffic snarl,
a new crack in the pavement,
a flag at half-mast — signs
of some disturbance in the world
because your friend, the morning sun,
has turned its dark side toward you.
Night Song
Among rocks, I am the loose one,
among arrows, I am the heart,
among daughters, I am the recluse,
among sons, the one who dies young.
Among answers, I am the question,
between lovers, I am the sword,
among scars, I am the fresh wound,
among confetti, the black flag.
Among shoes, I am the onw with the pebble,
among days, the one that never comes,
among the bones you find on the beach
the one that sings was mine.
My Commentary
I’ve combined these two into a single poem
FREEDOM
Find freedom in the face
of one’s own inconsequence
and no longer must you feed
this ravenous illusion
built brick by brick
with pride as trowel
and ignorance as mortar.
And for what?
This edifice you so
lovingly constructed
was built upon a cliff
eroded and beaten by storms so fierce
as to sink whole Persian fleets.
The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.
I started this 100 Day Project on May 11th. My project is to read a poem, and write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by that poem. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project/
Enjoy!
The City
You said: “I’ll go to another country, go to another shore,
find another city better than this one.
Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong
and my heart lies buried as though it were something dead.
How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
Wherever I turn, wherever I happen to look,
I see the black ruins of my life, here,
where I’ve spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally.”
You won’t find a new country, won’t find another shore.
This city will always pursue you. You will walk
the same streets, grow old in the same neighborhoods,
will turn gray in these same houses.
You will always end up in this city. Don’t hope for things elsewhere:
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you’ve wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you’ve destroyed it everywhere else in the world.
City Trees
The trees along this city street,
Save for the traffic and the trains,
Would make a sound as thin and sweet
As trees in country lanes.
And people standing in their shade
Out of a shower, undoubtedly
Would hear such music as is made
Upon a country tree.
Oh, little leaves that are so dumb
Against the shrieking city air,
I watch you when the wind has come,—
I know what sound is there.
My Commentary
I’ve combined these two into a single poem
TEARDROP
Roofs like wave crests
over a peopled sea
ebb and flow
through inexorable generations.
And what am I but a teardrop
on a wide-arcing train?—
A minim lost in ocean lights.
The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.
I started this 100 Day Project on May 11th. My project is to read a poem, and write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by that poem. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project/
Enjoy!
A Cloud Withdrew From The Sky
A Cloud withdrew from the Sky
Superior Glory be
But that Cloud and its Auxiliaries
Are forever lost to me
Had I but further scanned
Had I secured the Glow
In an Hermetic Memory
It had availed me now.
Never to pass the Angel
With a glance and a Bow
Till I am firm in Heaven
Is my intention now.
Yesterday is History
Yesterday is History,
‘Tis so far away —
Yesterday is Poetry —
‘Tis Philosophy —
Yesterday is mystery —
Where it is Today
While we shrewdly speculate
Flutter both away
My Commentary
I’ve combined these two into a single poem
LITTLE GAMES
All the world’s little games
are variations on the same
tired motif. Why tarry?
Perception is not a birthright.
Why risk shedding tears over
a wishing well of yesterdays?
God’s gift to you is today.
Would you squander such largesse?
The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.
I started this 100 Day Project on May 11th. My project is to read a poem, and write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by that poem. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project/
Enjoy!
A poor — torn heart — a tattered heart
A poor — torn heart — a tattered heart
That sat it down to rest
Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day
Flowed silver to the West
Nor noticed Night did soft descend
Nor Constellation burn
Intent upon the vision
Of latitudes unknown
The angels — happening that way
This dusty heart espied
Tenderly took it up from toil
And carried it to God
There — sandals for the Barefoot
There — gathered from the gales
Do the blue havens by the hand
Lead the wandering Sails
Woods
I part the out thrusting branches
and come in beneath
the blessed and the blessing trees.
Though I am silent
there is singing around me.
Though I am dark
there is vision around me.
Though I am heavy
there is flight around me.
My Commentary
I’ve combined these two into a single poem
EYES
If you do not have eyes, how
will you see without them?
Tend to sight even when
your garden lies fallow …
and love may light a lamp to
illuminate your blindness.
The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.
I started this 100 Day Project on May 11th. My project is to read a poem, and write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by that poem. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project/
Enjoy!
The Choice
The intellect of man is forced to choose
perfection of the life, or of the work,
And if it take the second must refuse
A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.
When all that story’s finished, what’s the news?
In luck or out the toil has left its mark:
That old perplexity an empty purse,
Or the day’s vanity, the night’s remorse.
The Real Work
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.
My Commentary
I’ve combined these two into a single poem
FACES
Look upon the young faces,
and see a springtide that lasts forever.
Look upon the old faces,
and see the dead on graves’ precipice.
Strive to be,
not by straining,
but as a steadfast farmer gathers strawberries.
The work is not strenuous,
although the sun may be, at times, too hot,
and your basket too full
or empty.
The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.
I started this 100 Day Project on May 11th. My project is to read a poem, and write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by that poem. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project/
Enjoy!
The Prayer of Quiet
The soul, then, being thus inwardly recollected in
God or before God, now and then becomes so
sweetly attentive to the goodness of her well-beloved,
that her attention seems not to her to be attention, so
purely and delicately is it exercised; as it happens
to certain rivers, which glide so calmly and smoothly that
beholders, and such as float upon them, seem neither to
see nor feel any motion, because the waters are not
seen to ripple or flow at all.
Praying
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
My Commentary
I’ve combined these two into a single poem
THE QUIET HOUR
This is the quiet hour,
when the moon casts
all that’s seemingly manifest,
into doubt and shadows.
This is the quiet hour
when all the world sleeps
except for the horned owl
perched upon a pine tree.
Be still, my friend.
Be fearless and listen.
This is the late, breathless hour
when the storm breaks
and the world stops spinning
and a mirror opens
and you confront yourself
and wrestle with who
you are.
Who. Who.
The great horned owl is not asking you a question,
but is asking you to question.
The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.
I started this 100 Day Project on May 11th. My project is to read a poem, and write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by that poem. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project/
Enjoy!
Both of the poems above came from Roger Housden’s for lovers of god everywhere, which you can purchase on Amazon.
