Finding Poems
September 14, 2007 · by Christine
Valentine for Ernest Mann
You can’t order a poem like you order a taco.
Walk up to the counter, say, “I’ll take two”
and expect it to be handed back to you
on a shiny plate.
Still, I like your spirit.
Anyone who says, “Here’s my address,
write me a poem,” deserves something in reply.
So I’ll tell a secret instead:
poems hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are the shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.
Once I knew a man who gave his wife
two skunks for a valentine.
He couldn’t understand why she was crying.
“I thought they had such beautiful eyes.”
And he was serious. He was a serious man
who lived in a serious way. Nothing was ugly
just because the world said so. He really
liked those skunks. So, he re-invented them
as valentines and they became beautiful.
At least, to him. And the poems that had been hiding
in the eyes of skunks for centuries
crawled out and curled up at his feet.
Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us
we find poems. Check your garage, the odd sock
in your drawer, the person you almost like, but not quite.
And let me know.
-Naomi Shihab Nye in The Red Suitcase
I just discovered this poem yesterday, and it was one of those gifted moments when I receive a new poem in awe, like it was meant for me in that very minute. Naomi Shihab Nye is becoming one of my favorite poets, I have posted several of her poems here previously and every single one is magical in its own way. She has a most earthy vision which is why I am falling in love.
It seemed especially appropriate after another week of receiving your wonderful gifts of poetry in response to my image from Monday. The topic of rumpled sheets felt so intimate, I even had a moment where I wondered if I should post it, would others be as intrigued as I am? Turns out, I had nothing to worry about. You responded with sensuous delight and I am grateful. It feels like this momentary poetic community is created in each one of these Invitations and there is something deeply holy about that for me.
15 names went into a hat and the winner of my drawing for a copy of Praying With the Elements is Rich at Pilgrim Path. Send me your snail mail and it will be out to you ASAP. Look for my next Invitation to Poetry a week from Monday!
May your weekend be filled with the delight of finding poetry in all those unexpected places. Then let me know what you discover.
-Christine Valters Paintner @ Abbey of the Arts
(granted the photos are not of skunk eyes, but seagulls get a pretty bad rap too
–photos taken on the Dingle Peninsula in Ireland)
September 14th, 2007 at 9:15 am
Christine,
Thanks for this lovely poem by Naomi Nye. I heard her at a reading of one of her books several years ago here at a Dallas bookstore. She was wonderful. She was completely unknown to me. I was having coffee in the little coffee bar nearby where she was speaking. Once I heard her poetry I was held in awe. I listened. I chatted with her afterwards. I bought her book. Ever since she has been one of my favorite writers.
September 14th, 2007 at 9:48 am
This poem expresses exactly how I think about poetry. Naomi Shihab Nye and Pablo Neruda are masters at taking the simplest things and bringing forth the miraculous in them. I had not seen this poem by Naomi, so it is a real gift. Now, I just need to know where you found it?
September 14th, 2007 at 10:20 am
Timothy, I would love to hear her give a reading! I’m going to have to keep a lookout and see if she ever comes to Seattle. Every time I read another poem of hers I fall more and more in love, now I am ordering some more of her poetry books.
Pam, thanks for this question. I found it on a website without reference, so did some sleuthing this morning and was able to find the title its from — The Red Suitcase. Out-of-print but used copies are available at Amazon.
September 14th, 2007 at 11:31 am
Great poem.
Have a wonderful and blessed week-end.
September 14th, 2007 at 1:54 pm
Okay, now you’ve got me hooked. Do you have plans to issue a poetry invite every other week?
Somehow I need to schedule time to feed my creativity…isn’t that an oxymoron? Making time to be creative by adding it to my PDA. Hmph.
Anne
September 14th, 2007 at 2:28 pm
Thanks Britt-Arnhild, you too!
I love that you’re hooked Anne and that you’re scheduling it in.
Yes, I plan on doing this every other week for a while since I am enjoying it so much.
September 14th, 2007 at 7:13 pm
Thanks Christine, and it would be great it you could post it to Wedfest again, so we can schedule our creativity some more, though these days I actually am being creative, but with my graphic design and theology. You know!
September 14th, 2007 at 9:50 pm
Absolutely Leah, I definitely will, lots of wonderful RevGals participation!
September 15th, 2007 at 5:31 am
this is wonderful!!! I need to look for more of her poems. I’ve been wanting to write more lately.
September 15th, 2007 at 8:21 am
“They are the shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.”
this is my favorite line (and challenge)! i am glad so glad you are waiting a week for another “invitation” since i will be out of town next week
see you very soon!! xoxoxox
September 15th, 2007 at 2:00 pm
Thanks Diane.
I love that line too lucy — living in a way that lets us find those hidden poems.
September 16th, 2007 at 9:53 am
Just got back home and read this. The poem is wonderful. I love what I think of as the “ordinary specialness” of her work.
How did you manage the fantastic detail on the seagull photographs? They’re great. The only positive representation of seagulls I can think of is Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach. Been a while since I read that, I may have to go dig it out.
September 16th, 2007 at 11:08 am
Thanks Tess. To be honest I had a very cooperative seagull — we were driving around the Dingle Peninsula and she was standing on a stone wall. We pulled the car over and I was about four feet from her with my zoom lens. She posed for quite a while, I think she was enjoying the attention.
September 17th, 2007 at 3:55 am
Christine
This is one of my favorite poems. That someone could notice a skunk, first, for its eyes fills me with hope somehow.
Peace,
Milton
September 17th, 2007 at 10:59 am
Yes, Milton, I couldn’t agree more, such hopefulness.