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An odd road to this one: my last two years of college, I lived in a rented house with a roommate, and thus I was off the campus meal plan as well. This meant cooking. As a college student with little income (OK, let’s be honest, outside of what my parents were graciously willing to send me despite my frankly not-especially-good habits of showing gratitude for it, no income), “cooking” generally meant things like Kraft Mac-and-Cheese, Ramen noodles, PB&J or bologna sandwiches, and the like. But I did start learning to do more actual cooking during those years, with aDown the rabbit hole….

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From a collection of love poetry that I own, an offering by John Donne. “The Good-Morrow”, by John Donne I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den? ’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be. If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee. And now good-morrow to our waking souls, Which watch not one another out of fear; For love, all love of other sightsDown the rabbit hole….

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A poem about yesterday’s birthday composer: “Rachmaninoff” by Peter Halstead On top of fluted spines Between the massing pools Of dark chromatic lines And using blood for fuel Follow all the signs And signatures Read the fine print On the flapping label In the search for love So the incidentals Of the dim rule On the page above Take the clouded hint Or later on you’ll Tend to bluff In the no man’s land Of the intellectual Handcuffed to chance And lost in jewels: A dream of hell With inhuman hands. Source. Peter Halstead is a poet, pianist, and photographer whoDown the rabbit hole….

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I want to post a poem each day this month! Here is the first, a poem about writing poetry, by Seamus Heaney. Note how he compares his own work–writing, with the pen as his tool–with that of his father, who is digging up potatoes in the garden. It’s a metaphor that works in a lot of ways: if one characterizes writing as “digging”, then one sees writing as a way of delving deep into the regions of the mind as digging is a way of delving deep into the regions of the world. But Heaney also sees a disconnect betweenDown the rabbit hole….

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 Today is April 1, which means that it’s another National Poetry Month! This month, each of my Thursday music posts will involve poetry, either by direct setting or…something else. (What “something else” may be, I’m not really sure. It might just be settings.) This is a gorgeous setting of a slightly revised version of one of my favorite poems by one of my very favorite poets, Alfred, Lord Tennyson. The poem is “The Lady of Shalott”, and the musician is the great Loreena McKennitt. This poem has appealed to me ever since I read in high school, either my juniorDown the rabbit hole….

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This poem is fascinating in that it seems to anticipate Shelley and Ozymandias by almost a thousand years. It describes in some depth the ruins of a Roman city, which has fallen into decay and disrepair, and juxtaposing that imagery with the thoughts of life that must have once flourished there. By the time this poem was written in the 8th or 9th century, the ruins being described (it’s not entirely clear which ones specifically are in the poet’s heart, or if they’re even meant to) had probably been abandoned for centuries already. It’s often worth remembering just how muchDown the rabbit hole….

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I read this poem–translated from the original Dutch–in my copy of World Poetry. I had never heard of Hadewijch before, so I did a little digging. It turns out that’s about all one can do. Very little is known about the life of Hadewijch, a mystic and poet who likely lived at some point in the 13th century in Brabant, a duchy in what is now Holland. Hadewijch wrote in Brabantian, a language predating modern-day Dutch, and just about everything we know about her comes from the writings of hers that have survived. She had some influence, although she seemsDown the rabbit hole….

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So, something cheerful…I’m going to try to post more of that sort of thing over the next few weeks, I think. The world has darkness a-plenty and I’ll be occasionally writing about that, too. But here’s a poem I found by an author named Tony Johnston. She is a prolific writer of books for children who lives in California. This is from a book called Once in the Country: Poems of a Farm, written in 1996. My Overalls The best thing is their color, old-night or early-dawn. No, the best thing is their limpness when I hoist them on. No,Down the rabbit hole….

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I won’t post a poem each day of this National Poetry Month, but I’ll try to do so as often as I can! Here’s one I found in a collection of music poetry I have, which fits right in with my year-long focus on Ludwig van Beethoven. This sonnet, by Edna St. Vincent Millay, is titled On Hearing a Symphony of Beethoven. Note that Millay does not specify which of the nine symphonies she has just heard! It could as easily be the light and good nature of the 1st, or the power of the 3rd, or the majesty ofDown the rabbit hole….

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National Poetry Month is upon us. At last–at long, long, long last–it is finally April. This March was…something, wasn’t it? In fact, there’s a joke going around online; I’ve seen a number of variations on the theme and I’ve no idea who made this joke first, but it roughly goes like this: Wow, I just realized that I’ve been alive in seven decades! -the 70s -the 80s -the 90s -the 2000s -the 10s -the 20s March Yeah, that about sums it up. And this April is likely to be, for many of us, even worse than March was. But here’sDown the rabbit hole….