Clive and Andrew F,
Thanks for the Pitter, whom I know of, but vaguely, and for the introduction to Edith Scovell. I'm embarrassed to say I never knew of Scovell until this thread. I will look into her work further. Amazing how many poets one can miss in one life-time!
Great link
here. (and mentions you, Clive.)
Michael - great Mary Oliver poem! I said some disparaging things about her a long time ago on another board, but now that I'm considerably older, and hopefully a tiny bit wiser, her poems mean and matter
a lot more to me now than they did before.
***
Though I've loved Muriel Rukeyser's poems for years, I've never had a collection of hers. Must get one soon. I was thinking of a particular poem, where she says something immortal, "The universe is made of stories." I will find it and post it, later.
But I just happened upon this poem, and it seems to fit not only the general direction this thread has taken, but also many of the threads going on at the Sphere: the theme of universal understanding, tolerance, and love.
***
St. Roach
For that I never knew you, I only learned to dread you,
for that I never touched you, they told me you are filth,
they showed me by every action to despise your kind;
for that I saw my people making war on you,
I could not tell you apart, one from another,
for that in childhood I lived in places clear of you,
for that all the people I knew met you by
crushing you, stamping you to death, they poured boiling
xxwater on you, they flushed you down,
for that I could not tell one from another
only that you were dark, fast on your feet, and slender.
xxNot like me.
For that I did not know your poems
And that I do not know any of your sayings
And that I cannot speak or read your language
And that I do not sing your songs
And that I do not teach our children
xxxxxto eat your food
xxxxxor know your poems
xxxxxor sing your songs
But that we say you are filthing our food
But that we know you not at all.
Yesterday I looked at one of you for the first time.
You were lighter that the others in color, that was
xxxneither good nor bad.
I was really looking for the first time.
You seemed troubled and witty.
Today I touched one of you for the first time.
You were startled, you ran, you fled away
Fast as a dancer, light, strange, and lovely to the touch.
I reach, I touch, I begin to know you.
— Muriel Rukeyser
***