Just a quick note that Wendell gave all you Poetry Boxes curators the “OK” to share his work in your Poetry Boxes.
Handwritten card asking Wendell Berry to give permission to share his work in Poetry Boxes. He says, “OK…”
Sad Reminder...
Even a Hurricane Can't Stop the Poetry
Even a Hurricane Can't Stop the Poetry
Hurricane Helene’s pounding rain and high winds wreaked havoc on the lives of all in her path. Over 250 dead and missing and more than 80 billion dollars in damage in the United States. Hardest hit was North Carolina where Wendy Gillis had just installed one of the Neruda Poetry Boxes. The poem she chose to share while she sheltered was the same poem RTÉ News ended its evening broadcast with back in March of 2020 at the beginning of the Covid 19 Pandemic; the poem Everything Is Going to Be All Right by Derek Mahon. Derek died in October later that year. Four years later his poem offered hope and consolation to Wendy’s neighbors from within one of the beautiful all Ipé Neruda Poetry Boxes. A box designed to protect both your poetry and hope amidst all the storms, be they pandemic or hurricane. https://ourblueboat.org/2024/10/18/the-poetry-box/
Butterfly Overshadows New Poetry Box
Even flying down a five and a half foot 4 by 4 post and a Stafford Poetry Box couldn’t outshine the emergence of a Monarch Butterfly in Jody’s front yard. Beautifully crafted of Western Red Cedar the Poetry Box stood neglected as neighbor after neighbor stepped past the Kangaroo Paw and Gazania to see the veined bronze wings. Wings still awaiting their first unfolding. Motionless under the queue of eyes with one foot still in her chrysalis. Long after she has flown to Canada while her great granddaughters winter in the Oyamel trees of Michoacán the Poetry Box will stand in its over 100 pounds of concrete attempting to illicit the same sense of awe and wonder butterflies create without even flapping their wings.
Much thanks to proud curators Jody and Phil, their cat Harriett (who oversaw the installation), my brother Steven for the use of his shovel and pickaxe, my parents Tom and Margaret for tools, accomodations and wonderful meals, Economy Lumber (aka Piedmont Lumber) for the concrete, Mario the gardener, the mail carrier, and the neighbors galore who took time to experience wonder at nature and then for a moment to admire the craftsmanship I flew down to place in the neighborhood of my childhood, the Rockridge neighborhood in Oakland, California.
Poetry Boxes English Style
Last year Paul Stephens-Wood sent me a FaceBook message turning me onto his Poetry Box in England. He was so inspired by the Poetry Boxes he saw on his visit to Portland that he built one himself. Not only that its actually curated and supported by the local community library and has a website. To see which poems they’ve posted and to submit your own poems follow this link…
https://www.breamcommunitylibrary.co.uk/poetry
"love is a place" Now that an ee cummings Poetry Box on the Way
Tacoma will soon have an ee cummings Poetry Box. The ee cummings is a beautiful selection of rosewood, mahogany, walnut and salvaged red cedar. Delightfully crafted and all lowercase. Nestled inside is all the hardware needed to mount the Poetry Box securely to a post. Also inside is a selection of emergency poems and a desiccant packet to help keep poems dry along with the venting and rain slots vital to the weather resistant design. It is up to the USPS (United States Postal Santa) to safely deliver by Christmas.
Dickinson Poetry Box Looks Like New
Steve and Karen were very happy with the repair, cleaning, sanding, and refinishing of their Dickinson Poetry Box.
Read moreAround the Corner: Another Poetry Box in Northeast Portland
Like the Poetry Box in Brooklyn, New York in the previous post this all Ipe (aka Ironwood) redesigned Neruda Poetry Box is now open for poetry. However, this one is right around the corner from my workshop in the Woodlawn/Concordia/Alberta Arts neighborhood. The first poem is by Walt Whitman.
When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer
By Walt Whitman
When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
From public domain
From left to right Claire, Walt, Dolly, and Clay