Art, Books, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

Saki: The Open Window and the Birds of WW1

“You may wonder why we keep that window wide open on an October afternoon,” said the niece, indicating a large French window that opened on to a lawn. “It is quite warm for the time of the year,” said Framton; “but has that window got anything to do with the tragedy?” Framton Nuttel is in the county for a nerve…

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Art, Poetry, Politics, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Let America Be America Again

Langston Hughes wrote this in 1935.  It had meaning and relevance then. It still has. Read it. Let America Be America Again  Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. (America never was America to me.) Let America…

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Art, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

That Cursèd Wood

Some strolls have a destination. And so it was on the day we crossed the park by Harlem Meer at 110th Street, wandered by the chrysanthemums in glorious bloom in the Conservatory Garden and on to the Met Museum for its “World War I and the Visual Arts” exhibit. It’s a great exhibit. So much to see and so much to wonder…

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Art, Books, Food, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Ode to Garlic

I don’t think I peeled a clove of garlic until I was at least 21. It wasn’t because I didn’t prepare my own food. I cooked through most of college and acquired all kinds of ingenious, makeshift cooking skills using a gas-ring fueled by a penny meter in a narrow kitchen with no oven, no fridge and that I shared…

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Art, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

All the hills and vales along

He went to school in Marlborough and loved to take long and sometimes solitary walks across the Wilshire downs. So – here is Charles Sorley.. October 13th is the anniversary of his death in 1915. All the hills and vales along All the hills and vales along Earth is bursting into song, And the singers are the chaps Who are…

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Art, Poetry, Politics, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Prospective Immigrants Please Note

Immigration. Immigrants. Emigrants. Refugees. Travelers across borders. Changing countries by choice or by necessity of survival. Moving from one state of awareness to another. Learning. Growth. Transformation. Going deeper. Looking more closely. The threshold of consciousness. To grow and change. Or not. We have that choice. Here the poet speaks from the other side of the frontier, the border, the…

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Art, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Relativity

Relativity There was a young lady named Bright Whose speed was far faster than light;    She set out one day    In a relative way And returned on the previous night. Einstein developed his theory of general relativity between 1907 and 1915, with contributions by many others after 1915. The final form of general relativity was published in 1916.  This…

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Art, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Two Trips to Newburgh

Two visits in thirty days and only just scratched the surface of what this city has to offer. We parked on Broadway just by the Ritz (where Lucille Ball made her debut performance, a young Frank Sinatra performed with the Tommy Dorsey Band, and Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Prima sang) and walked around the corner and through the community garden. It’s hard…

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Art, Books, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

Richard Aldington and Paul Nash: Images of War

Some authors are blessed with illustrators who enhance their work with the distinction of their own. So it was in 1919 with Richard Aldington. When Images of War was first published it was with a cover design and eleven colored woodcut illustrations by Paul Nash. They are matched with poems and depict scenes from the western front  – trenches, bombardment, ruins, barbed wire,…

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Art, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Forgetfulness

Forgetfulness The name of the author is the first to go followed obediently by the title, the plot, the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of, as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain, to a little…

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Art, Books, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

Before The Charge: The Great Push, Loos, September 1915

Before the Charge The night is still and the air is keen, Tense with menace the time crawls by, In front is the town and its homes are seen, Blurred in outline against the sky. The dead leaves float in the sighing air, The darkness moves like a curtain drawn, A veil which the morning sun will tear From the…

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Art, Books, Politics, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Kate Millett, Eng Lit and the The Farm in Poughkeepsie

There are pockets of Poughkeepsie that still have a rural look and feel. Cows graze and the corn is ripe for harvest. Old Overlook Road is one of them. It’s under fifteen minutes from my house and today I went to pay tribute to its most famous resident – Kate Millett who died in Paris last week. In 1970 Millett…

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Art, Food, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Blackberrying

Here then, as promised is the indulgence of blackberry poems. (For any very young readers confused by Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackberry please know that the Blackberry was a communication device from the early C21st introduced sometime after the era of cocoa tins connected with string.) So many blackberry poems. It’s almost as if all the poets had…

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Art, Education, Food, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

Blackberry and Apple Crumble

If we had some bacon we could have bacon and eggs but we’ve got no eggs. That First World War catch phrase came to mind as I was contemplating an idle wish to make blackberry and apple crumble. I imagine a Bruce Bairnsfather cartoon with Old Bill and Alf or Bert grousing about the food while the whizz bangs fly…

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Art, Food, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Bitter Strawberries

     Farm work is one of the best jobs for getting to know people as they really are. The First Job and the Sweetest Sylvia Plath’s first job was on a farm in the summer of 1950. I am grateful to the inestimable Maria Popova (Brain Pickings) for these extracts from her journal and from an article in which…

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