If you don’t live it, it won’t come out of your horn. ~ Charlie Parker
I took part in the National Baseball Poetry Festival last night at the Worcester Red Sox Stadium. Today, I head back for a poetry reading. But here is my poem that I wrote for my friend, Jim, that was chosen for the festival. Jim was my guest last night for the celebration, and a baseball game.
Peace (at the park),
Kevin
All week, the New York Times has been hosting activities for readers to explore the poem ‘Recuerdo’ by Edna St. Vincent Millay, and it has been a fun and informative challenge. It’s a great poem, and all of the audio clips and interactive activities have really done the work of bringing the poem (centered on a night on a New York City ferry) alive in my mind.
As today’s piece suggests, though:
“But the question nonetheless arises: Now that you have this poem, what do you do with it? One obvious answer, suggested by our young friend and implied in Millay’s last lines, is to pass it along. These three stanzas are a gift, a souvenir offered by the poet to whomever might have been with her on that ferry ride and, equally, to everyone who wasn’t.”
New York Times
And so, I will gift you, my reader, with a link to the final post. May you find some escape in the poem, too.
Peace (and poem),
Kevin
A poem I wrote about my neighbor and friend, Jim, was just accepted into the National Baseball Poetry Festival, which takes place at the Worcester (MA) stadium for the WooSox (a minor league of the Boston Red Sox) this coming weekend. I live about 90 minutes away, but until this year, I had no idea that poetry was a thing at the stadium.
I’m happy to be able to honor and celebrate my friend, who organized unofficial summer baseball games for youths (including my three boys) over many years, sometimes drawing in 50 to 70 kids on summer mornings to play baseball, socialize and stay off technology.
Jim is able to come with me to the game and tour and reception.
Peace (on the field of play),
Kevin
Some days, I don’t really know where a poem is going until I get to the ending. This is one of those poems, and it comes from a cause/effect prompt over at Open Write. It felt like the poem needed to be read aloud.;
And here are two poems from yesterday — one from an Open Write prompt (ode to peace) and the other as a haiku response to my friend, Algot.
Peace (in the mornings),
Kevin
