Jul
05
2020

Articles About poetry

  • First Lines — Heart of compassion

    Amid the turmoil on Earth, have you looked at the stars? Villager Tim Morand contributes this month’s poem, a meditation on compassion, the shifts in human life and the grandeur of the night sky.

  • First Lines — Staggered

    This month, this strange month, this unforgettable month, has been in some ways so sweet. This sweet world is as much the world as the frightening one is. April’s poetry column, written from lockdown, with a poem by column editor Audrey Hackett.

  • First Lines — ‘Underground river of poetry’

    The poetry of spring is gushing forth — the poetry of eternal spring, and the poetry of this strange spring, virus-tossed, virus-laced. A visionary poem by villager Robert Paschell, from the March column.

  • First Lines — An ‘old soul’ poem

    Were you an “old soul” as a child? You may find yourself seen and understood by villager Ben Cronin’s delicate poem, from the February column.

  • First Lines — ‘And the heart calls me …’

    Who am I, really? A contemplative poem by villager Khara Scott-Bey explores self-definition to the edges of identity, and beyond.

  • First Lines — JOY JOY JOY

    A poem from a former villager, the late Jean Barlow Hudson. Strange, dreamlike, filled with somberness and joy, Jean’s poem helps us welcome the turning of the year.

  • First Lines — Poetry of the sleeping breath

    Eternity sleeps. (Photo by Matt Minde)

    The voice of the dog. Simple, straightforward. And then, like a child who speaks an uncanny truth, soulful. Two “poems for dogs” from villager Artie Isaac.

  • First Lines — October, catching fire

    Not all poems marvel or praise. Some embrace the bleakness — as this month’s poem by MJ White does, beautifully.

  • First Lines — A wisdom poem

    “There is an impassable gap ….” A poem from villager Jim Malarkey contemplates our strangeness to each other. Intimacy as well as violence grows in that “gap.”

  • First Lines — ‘While tottering …’

    In this month’s poem, villager Janeal Turnbull Ravndal meditates on marriage, aging and the loss of balance, leading to new forms of grace.