One Poem. One Planet. April 1, 2017

d7ead3400cfdacec44803e2baa164189April is National Poetry Month in this particular spot on the planet. This year, to celebrate, I’m embarking on a journey of my own writing and poeming and wondering. My goal this year is to write a month long cycle of poems, one leading into the next.

No destination in mind.

Nothing earth-shattering.

No isms.

My goal is simply to keep setting out each day for a month of witnessing life on this planet as I know it. A poem a day for the sheer joy of writing a poem a day. You’re welcome to read and comment, and perhaps you’ll join in with your own poem about your spot on this big blue complex marble.

So here it is, the first offering, a love poem to get us rolling:

 

1.
It’s spring again,
our time to comb the entirety
of earth’s green memory
for our first touch, the unfolding bud
of infatuation splitting the smooth bark
of our selves

look closer at the shape of my eye
the blue pathway surrounding
the dark well where you used to draw
the water of me
up and out

how weightless you were
that first time you pitched forward
tumbling through the red cave of my ear
the echo of your voice
marking the depths as you fell,
so many times you called my name
until it grew wings
and wings and wings
and flared and flew
up to the rafters and no coaxing
would bring it back down

Maybe that’s why I leave the window open
at night, or why you always close it
when you come to bed, and why I rise in the dark
to open it again after you’ve fallen asleep

 

 

 Tomorrow’s poem

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One Poem. One Planet. 2016

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Today is the last day of National Poetry Month here in the United States. Today also marks the last of my daily posts for my One Poem. One Planet. project. I’m going to miss it.

When I set out on April 1, 2016 to show that poetry has no national affiliations or borders, I had no idea what expect. Would anyone read these posts? Would I be able to find poets in all corners of the world, translated into English, because I am mono-lingual, sad to say?

The answer is a resounding YES!

I set out to explore the world by hopping from poem to poem around the globe, discovering poets I’d never heard of before, bumping into familiar poets and old favorites I as was so glad to revisit.

Below is a list of all the poems I found this year, listed by date, poet’s name and the country they come from–(In some cases, the country they were exiled from because poets are still dangerous in this day and age.)

I want to thank everyone who read and retweeted and liked and clicked. My first goal was to read more poetry from around the world. I realize now my secondary goal was to make some kind of connection–tenuous and electronic though it be–it is still a connection with people beyond my small local view.

I checked my stats, you know the part where it lists the countries that readers come from, and WOW!!! In addition to readers in the the United States this month, I had readers from 22 countries: Philippines, Serbia, Ghana, Italy, India, United Kingdom, Russia, European Union, Canada, Ukraine, Ireland, Egypt, Germany, Belgium, New Zealand, France, Netherlands, Turkey, Vietnam, Kenya, Australia and Taiwan.

I started #onepoemoneplanet to capture these postings. I encourage anyone who wants to use the hashtag and share the poems that speak to your life with the world. I will continue to do so as well, throughout the rest of the year. And I will be back next year for sure, with a whole new batch of poets from everywhere I can think of!

Happy Poetry Month!

One poem. One Planet.

 

This year’s poets:

April 1, 2016: Wislawa Szymborska (Poland)

April 2, 2016: Keorapetse Kgositsile (South Africa)

April 3, 2016: Anonymous,( Greenland)

April 4, 2016: Lorna Goodison (Jamaica)

April 5, 2016: Pablo Neruda (Chile)

April 6, 2016: Hiromi Ito (Japan)

April 7, 2016: Derek Walcott (Saint Lucia)

April 8, 2016: Mizra Asadullah Khan Ghalib (Persia)

April 9, 2016 Claribel Alegria (El Salvador)

April 10, 2016 Kim Kwangsop (North Korea)

April 11, 2016 Ahmed Fouad Negm (Egypt)

April 12, 2016 Mang Ke (China)

April 13, 2016 Marjorie Evasco (Philippines)

April 14, 2016 Armand Garnet Ruffo (Canada)

April 15, 2016 Katherine Ellis Barrett (Patagonia)

April 16, 2016 Rainer Maria Rilke (Austro-Hungarian Empire)

April 17, 2016 Gunnar Ekelof (Sweden)

April 18, 2016 Lucretuis (Rome) 99-55BC

April 19, 2016 Patrick Kavanagh (Ireland)

April 20, 2016 Anna Akhmatova (Russia)

April 21, 2016 Jorge Luis Borges (Argentina)

April 22, 2016 Cesar Vallejo (Peru)

April 23, 2016 Muriel Rukeyser (USA)

April 24, 2016 Janos Pilinszky (Hungary)

April 25, 2016 Federico Garcia Lorca (Spain)

April 26, 2016 Sherko Bekas (Iraq)

April 27, 2016 Robert Gray (Australia)

April 28, 2016 Ferreira Gullar (Brazil)

April 29, 2016 Taslima Nasrin (Bangladesh)

April 30, 2016 Circe Maia (Uruguay)

And one bonus poem for April 30, 2016 from me: The First Miracle of the Day 

 

Learn more about One Poem. One Planet.

 

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One Poem. One Planet.

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April is National Poetry Month here in the US–strange to celebrate an endeavor that knows no boundary, nor does it pledge its allegiances to any flag or political doctrine. Poetry exists because of and for the people of this planet, the entire planet.

To celebrate, I’m going to spend the next 30 days looking for poems from around the world. Russia, New Zealand, China, Iraq, Sweden, is there a poet from Antarctica? I don’t know, but I’ll look for one.

No literary discussion or lengthy biographies. Simply, the abundance that is one poem.

One poem. One planet.

 

 

#onepoemoneplanet

 

One Poem. One Planet. April 29, 2017

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29.

Nature Poem

Snowshoe Hare who lives
in the tangle of downed trees
next to the culvert where Porcupine
used to hole up in late winter
is gray

Snowshoe Hare who darts
across the mound under white birch bowed
to each other over bare ground where
White Dog sprawled in the dirt
is quiet as a ghost

Snowshoe Hare who streaks
up the driveway toward tall grass
behind the house where Bear
huffed his breath into the spongy ground
is running for her life

–Arlitia Jones, April 29, 2017

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One Poem. One Planet. April 28, 2017

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28.

History Sonnet

Perhaps it started when Siegfried killed the lindworm—
the Horrible Serpent dead—so the town of Worms
could cobble to life with congratulatory stone
Cathedrals and Churches and Monasteries, Cloisters
then smithys, jails and burghers’ mansions in view
of high-held domes and steeples—the Pope’s monster-less realm.

The Modern World born of Empire and Martin Luther’s
insurrection—95 Theses nailed to the revered door—
now Lutherans must kill Catholics.
The Serpent claims an eye for Siegfried’s eye
and tooth for tooth for fang—the heretic—
—the hammer—the nail—the new reality
where the worm is now Authority.

–Arlitia Jones, April 28, 2017

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One Poem. One Planet. April 27, 2017

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27.

Bald eagles have on average 7000 feathers
compare that to the giant pacific octopus—
with her eight tentacles she wields 2,240 suction cups

We are the counters of everything

we 7.3 billion inhabitants on Earth give or take
a century of democide: mass murder of the people
by their government, that’s 268 million of us in the last 100 years

We quantify to comprehend to find our way
in the forest in our mind, the tangle
of 1 billion times 1 million dendrite branches
where memories flit tree to tree

The bigger the number the better we feel

Inside the red canyons of the human heart 724 trillion blood cells
fly by carrying their bead of oxygen
making our bodies a riot of constant miracles

Compare that to the unexaggerated ratio of

For every 17 children in the world, there is one land mine, or
every 20 minutes someone takes one step and the ground clicks

The problem is we are always talking about numbers.

–Arlitia Jones, April 27, 2017

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Yesterday’s Poem

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One Poem. One Planet. April 26, 2017

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26.

Notebook Fragment

The king boletus is perfect
for days like this when you could really use
a forest mushroom to retaliate on cruelty—
a round proud audacious head
pushing out of the loamy ground
is a ruddy forehead to stomp, a bloated face
to kick.

–Arlitia Jones, April 26, 2017

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One Poem. One Planet. April 25, 2017

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25.

By now the children know my name
those that still talk even pronounce it correctly
and this pleases me

they shout it in the streets
where men lift them high
to bolster courage
or test for enemy snipers

Others, the children driven from their beds
still carrying the moon’s silence in their mouths,
their breath soft as ferns,

never speak again
hoping this will keep me from coming

It won’t

I am the red havoc who brings
fire to reflect in their eyes,
smoke to darken their skin

Where there was a door
through which they once returned home
I provide concrete cratered
with a hole the correct size
for their small bodies to fit
and this too, pleases me

–Arlitia Jones, April 25, 2017

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One Poem. One Planet. April 24, 2017

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24.

Sound — six-footed ant
scuffing the forest’s green drum —
at last, rain arrives

–Arlitia Jones, April 24, 2017

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One Poem. One Planet. April 23, 2017

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23.

Nothing can happen more beautiful than death.
—Walt Whitman

Inside the coyote’s mouth
is a savage place for a barred owl

Twisting in the wind’s violent tarantella,
the trunk of the blue spruce eventually shatters

Flower shaped and malignant, the tumor blooming in the lungs
will eventually drown a man.

I am trying to understand, Walt.
I am.

But how I am to see the hand of a soldier
killed in battle, fingers darkened

and curling too tightly into the palm,
as anything other than a dead star?

–Arlitia Jones, April 23, 2017

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One Poem. One Planet. April 22, 2017

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22.

I’ve been thinking about extinction
how dull the world will be without
extravagant horns and spotted furs
how quiet the ocean will be
without the blue whale breaking its surface
how unadorned my poems will be
when every wing is folded, every song cut short
how quickly dinner will pass
when the chair across from me is empty
when my own chair is empty
and all that remains is the clutter
of knives and forks, empty plates
layered with dust and moonlight.

–Arlitia Jones, April 22, 2017

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One Poem. One Planet. April 21, 2017

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21.

Three kinds of flicker
today: the first in front of my car

as I left my driveway,
flare of a wing and flame colored flight

disappearing into the alder.
The second a shimmering late sun

tunneling into the volcano’s flank
way off on the distant horizon,

a fiery mouse hollowing its nest, trailing
orange tail in a lavender sky

And finally tonight this bright feather
of memory suspended in the bell jar

where I keep every beautiful piece of you
I haven’t already lost or dulled with unabashed devotion

–Arlitia Jones, April 21, 2017

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One Poem. One Planet. April 20, 2017

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20.

Who am I to say
what is impossible?

Brushed by dawn’s grey scarf of light
I am the crazy child

who finds the message from Vienna
waiting on her phone

A metaphor is never
just a metaphor

A yellow chrysanthemum
in a crystal vase

is a proxy sun in the kitchen–
it is also the sun

-Arlitia Jones, April 20, 2017

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