Local poet Phil Metres

Poet and teacher Phil Metres will present a Master Poets’ Class at the Library on Wednesday, Nov. 4 at 7 p.m. Adults and high school students interested in listening to, writing and reading poetry are welcome to participate.

Phil is a much-published poet and associate professor of English at John Carroll University.  His teaching interests include creative writing, poetry, American poetry and the poetry of war and peace.

Phil writes poetry about poetry:

If you are sitting in an exit row & you cannot understand
this poem, or cannot see well enough to follow
these instructions, please tell a literary critic. Poems are
heavy, awkward to lift, push, pull, and maneuver.
Because of this, and for the safety of all
Harold Bloom requires that we seat qualified readers
next to poems. If a poem loses pressure, an idea
will be released from the overhead compartment.
Make sure to write down the idea before
you attempt to assist others with their ideas. Once again,
thank you for reading this poem. I know you have
many choices and appreciate your choosing this one.

(used by permission of the poet)

More of Phil’s poetry can be enjoyed at http://www.philipmetres.com/content/view/16/44/ or by coming to the Nov. 4  Master Class.

Listen to the Mustn’ts Child

 

Materials Processor Anne Herrilko is one of the two Library staff members who prepare every item in the Library for our shelves.  After each book, magazine, CD, DVD, kit or whathaveyou is cataloged, Anne or her co-worker Cheryl Harmon label, sticker, box, stamp, inventory, reinforce and otherwise prepare for the shelf each item.  You may never see these two workers in action, but the LIbrary would ground to a halt without them.

Anne is also a mom and she has successfully strived to teach her son just how much he can accomplish.  One of her lessons has come from a Shel Silverstein poem: Listen to the Mustn’ts Child, from Where the Sidewalk Ends.  Anne says this is a family favorite.  ”We spent many an evening reading Shel Silverstein to Mike when he was younger. Now, we carry this poem in our wallets and I know most parents wish this for those they love.”

We’ve got ten titles of Shel Silverstein’s books in our collection, most of them in our Children’s Library, everyone of them a great deal of fun.  And now, on our new non-fiction shelf, A Boy Named Shel: The Life and Times of Shel Silverstein. 

A poem for spring, for Earth Day, for a gorgeous day, thanks to e.e. cummings:

i thank You God for most this amazing

day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees

and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything

which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,

and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth

day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay

great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing

breathing any-lifted from the no

of all nothing-human merely being

doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and

now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

The Library in Poetry and Prose

Children’s Librarian Sally Klepper gets to spend a fair part of her days selecting children’s books, creating clever crafts and sharing both with children. It’s rough, but somebody’s got to do it! Yesterday, she shared with me the poem I’m Going to the LIbrary, from poet Jack Prelutsky’s new book, My Dog May Be a Genius. The Poetry Foundation has named Prelutsky “the nation’s first Children’s Poet Laureate.”

We have numerous books by Prelutsky in our Children’s Department. He’s a sure bet with both children and fun-loving adults which makes any of his books a great way to introduce poetry to any children in your circle of love.

Now this issue of unreturned library books is not limited to children or children’s literature! Comic mystery writer Ian Sansom’s librarian hero Israel Armstrong has strong opinions on unreturned books. The second book in the “Mobile Library Mystery” series, Mr. Dixon Disappears, begins with Israel’s rant, “He was sick of the excuses and the lies. He was tired of the evasions and the untruths, of people refusing to stand up and speak the truth and take responsibility for their own actions. It seemed to him like yet another symptom of the decline of Western civilisation; of chaos; and climate change; and environmental disaster; and war; disease; famine; oppression; the eternal slow slide down and down and down. It was entropy, nemesis, apotheosis, imminent apocalypse and sheer bad manners all rolled into one. People were not returning their library books on time.”

Our staff doesn’t quite get this bent out of shape over late returns, but some of our patrons waiting for their turn at the book (or other item) do!

See you at the book drop!

Jabberwocky

 

Prodigious Reader and Assistant Cataloger Cheryl Paganelli contributed two poems to our poetry collection here at the Library.  Here’s the second for your enjoyment:

 

Jabberwocky

by Lewis Carroll

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Did you know that the Jabberwock is a character in

 Through the Looking Glass, the sequel to Alice in Wonderland.

 Of course, we have both books and

 The Walrus and the Carpenter. Come check them out!

Poets on Trees

 

Still on our Earth Day theme:

Poet Joyce Kilmer famously wrote, “I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.”  Odgen Nash rejoines here.

Please keep in mind our program on Farms and Foods of Ohio tonight at 7:30, here at the Library.  Learn how to find the freshest foods close to home and get tips for cooking it in the most delicious way from author and cook Marilou Suszko.

Pied Beauty

I think of this as an Earth Day poem:

Pied Beauty

GLORY be to God for dappled things—

For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;

For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;

Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;

And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;

Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;

He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:

Praise him.

Be sure to check out our Earth Day display of books on the Avenue in the Library and tomorrow night (Wednesday, April 23) at 7:30, come hear local author and culinary instructor Marilou Suszko tell us about her new book, Farms and Foods of Ohio, and the wonderful fresh food to be found right here in our bountiful state. Marilou shares her many marvelous stories of farms, farmers and good, wholesome food. She’ll tell us where and how to find the best local food, and give us great ideas about preparing it. Eat local, read local! Of course, we’ve got this book in our collection for you to check out.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

 

When I asked Library staff members to share their favorite poems, I got submissions from two Robert Frost fans. Perhaps that shouldn’t be surprising; he is one of the truly quintessentially American poets. This poem was written in 1922 and first published in 1923. Do you remember this poem from school?

 

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond

 

Another love poem today!  Cheryl Paganelli,  Assistant Cataloger, contributes this incredibly lovely poem by e.e. cummings:  somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond .  Can’t you just feel the poet’s love for his beloved?

Cheryl reads widely and enthusiastically and can almost always recommend a good book to suit your taste.  She has a good ear for poetry too.

Eric

 

Today’s poem was written by Alina Wirtz, eighth grade daughter of Simona Wirtz, Associate Librarian in our Children’s Department.

 

Eric

Two bright sapphires underneath two honeysuckle eyebrows,

Hair kissed by the sun and combed by a storm.

A heart of fire, yet a soul as peaceful as a dove.

Ears as porous as a sponge, yet attentive enough to hear the ice cream truck.

 

 

A love as pure as just fallen snow, gentle and soft.

A spirit as free as the wind.

An imagination as colorful as a sunset and as wild as the jungle.

A brave lion, yet somewhere, a timid mouse sneaking to nibble on the joys of life.

 

 

A mind full to the brim, excited to overflow with knowledge.

A smile as warm as a summer afternoon, and as sweet as the lollypops he loves.

His eyes twinkle like stars when surrounded by friends and family.

 

 

The smallest of four will soon touch the branches of a sycamore tree.

Salvaging for memories of pleasure and exhilaration, locked up for safe-keeping.

Five of his cards have been tossed out of his deck, only to become kindling for the fire to come.

 

Alina’s an awfully good writer, isn’t she?  She wrote this poem about her little brother.  I hope she keeps writing! Alina attends St. Joseph’s School here in Avon Lake.