Thursday, February 5, 2009

You and your whole race. by Langston Hughes, Black History Month

You and your whole race.

by Langston Hughes

You and your whole race.

Look down upon the town in which you live

And be ashamed.

Look down upon white folks

And upon yourselves

And be ashamed

That such supine poverty exists there,

That such stupid ignorance breeds children there

Behind such humble shelters of despair—

That you yourselves have not the sense to care

Nor the manhood to stand up and say

I dare you to come one step nearer, evil world,

With your hands of greed seeking to touch my throat,

I dare you to come one step nearer me:

When you can say that

you will be free!

Source: Poetry (January 2009).

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Poetry Month April, 2009


2009 Poster
Design: Paul Sahre
Sponsors: The New York Times, National Endowment for the Arts, Random House, Inc., Merriam-Webster, and The Poetry Foundation

The 2009 poster features the lines "Do I dare / Disturb the universe?" from T. S. Eliot's poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock."


Sit, relax, be quiet - Listen - tranform the world


So many say, they are too busy,
yet, take some time, say 15 minutes, find a quiet place,
sit with both feet on the ground, take three deep breath's,
then focus on your breathing, one, breath in, two, breath out...
some say, count to ten and start again,
my mind fills up, monkey mind,
the issue is not empty mind, but letting go...
not planning the day, solving an issue, but letting go...
being quiet is about letting go.
In meditation the world is transformed...
try it? Do it!
Peace, ko shin (boundless heart) Bob Hanson

Anika, the beautiful Poet


The Fifth Grade Poetry Reading
from La Escuela Fratney, Milwaukee WI
The reading was at Woodland Pattern Book Center, Milwaukee, WI
Anika Otero Ingvoldstad is our grand-daughter and we are very proud of her.

020709 Anika's Poetry

I AM

I am the sea turtle drifting through the sea.

I am the waves encountering different lands.

I am the leaves whispering in the wind.

I am the earth rotating around the sun.

I am the butterfly flying to each flower.

I am flexible like monkey swinging from vines.

I am the thunder rumbling in the sky.

I am the rain kissing our earth.

I am the breaking dawn rising from below.

I am the new moon rising into the night.

I am the twilight slowly sinking in the meadow.

I am the snow that falls like a blanket on our earth.

I am what I am I do what I do and live my life as a bumpy

road with twists and curves.

Read by Anika Otero Ingvoldstad at the 5th Grade Poetry

Reading at Woodland Pattern Book Center, Milwaukee, WI

Feb. 1, 2009

Where I am From

I am from Lacy my stuffed animal that I sleep with. My dog Bear who I picked out from a barn, 2 tea sets and a dinner set of Peter the Rabbit and my mom's earrings from when she was a little girl.

I am from a small slide that I played with at my grandpas, from the garden with sunflowers and daisies, the tire swing that I swing on, the mud and hammock that I get dirty in and from the small stove we cook on in the summer.

I am from the park across the street where I play forts in the winter with my cousins, the park Wickfield were I play kickball and tennis, and from Hawthorn Glen where I sled.

I am from my great, great grandma Ing who serves the best grapefruit, from my grandma Kurth who would take care of me and say I was her favorite, from my grandma Karen who makes me pop-overs and chocolate torte royal, from my godparents Jeff and Mary-Lynn who take me to Cedardberg and from my Abuelo y Abuela who would cook me rice and eggs.

I am from my dad who always tells me when I am tired at the Zoo, "If you walk any slower you will stop" from my mom who when I would ask her what's for supper she says food, and I ask her what kind of food? She says, "the kind you eat."

I am from the scar I got falling down a dresser and from the blood I spilled crashing into a tree.

I am from my gray and blue plastic bin with my name on it with sharpie full of memories, and my Indian and whinnie and pooh diaries.

I am form all that and more!

Written by Anika Otero Ingvoldstad as part of her poetry project for her fifth grade class at

La Escuela Fratney, Milwaukee WI

Luna Sol

Soy la luna salgo

Soy el sol salgo

Duranye el dia.

Veo a los murcielagos.

veo a los pajaros.

Oigo a los grillos.

Oigo a los ninos.

Alrededor de mi

Hay estrellas.

Alrededor de mi

Hay nubes

Soy un satelite.

Soy una estrella.

Brillo enla noche

Doy calor a los

Planetas

Soy la luma.

Soy el sol.

Haiku's by Anika

Arbustgo

De

Frambuesas

Verde con hojas

roja y deliciosas son

me gusta comer.

Osos polares

Son del Artico

blanco con amarillo

no tienen frio.

Chocolate

Marron y dulce

se derrite en mi boca

me gusta comer.

Written by Anika Otero Ingvoldstad as part of her poetry project for her fifth grade class at

La Escuela Fratney, Milwaukee WI


Monday, February 2, 2009

The root of War is fear...Thomas Merton

At the root of all war is fear: not so much the fear men have of

one another as the fear they have of everything. It is not

merely that they do not trust one another; they do not even

trust themselves. If they are not sure when someone else

may turn around and kill them, they are still less sure

when they may turn around and kill themselves. They

cannot trust anything, because they have ceased to believe in God.
It is not only our hatred of others that is dangerous

but also and above all our hatred of ourselves: particularly

that hatred of ourselves which is too deep and too powerful

to be consciously faced. For it is this which makes us

see our own evil in others and unable to see it in ourselves.
Thomas Merton. New Seeds of Contemplation

(New York: New Directions Press, 1961): 112.

Thought for the Day

[W]e never see the one truth that would help us begin to solve

our ethical and political problems: that we are all more or less

wrong, that we are all at fault, all limited and obstructed

by our mixed motives, our self-deception,

our greed, our self-righteousness

and our tendency to aggressively and hypocrisy.
New Seeds of Contemplation: 115-116.