schmevil | Praise Song for the Day, by Elizabeth Alexander

Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other, catching each other's
eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.

All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din, each
one of our ancestors on our tongues.

Someone is stitching up a hem, darning
a hole in a uniform, patching a tire,
repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere,
with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum,
with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky.
A teacher says, Take out your pencils. Begin.

We encounter each other in words, words
spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed,
words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark
the will of some one and then others, who said
I need to see what's on the other side.

I know there's something better down the road.
We need to find a place where we are safe.
We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain: that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges,

picked the cotton and the lettuce, built
brick by brick the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle, praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,
others by first do no harm or take no more
than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light,
love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward in that light.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I remembered being decidedly underwhelmed by the reading of it, and yet loving it when I read it, divorced from her voice.

Oy.

Totally agree. It was a terrible reading. The poem itself is nice, though not a Great Work. I think its' reputation is going to suffer though, because of Alexander's distinct lack of performing skill. Eep.

The poem itself is nice, though not a Great Work

This. All I remember was something about pencils and lettuce, and someone beside me screaming, "Inflection mo**&*&^%^&, do you speak it?!"

But still, welcome back to the world America. Welcome back. We missed you so.

"Inflection mo**&*&^%^&, do you speak it?!"

LOL! Were you there?

(I'm a Brit), somewhere in London and we are all crowding around for the speech, and then we waited on this poem. So yeah, I was cracking up. I don't think she practised it at all.

Also, Obama's voice can be pretty resonant and relatively rhythmic when he chooses to go all 'preacher man' mode, she just sounded cold.

Oh well, good poetry is exceedingly difficult to read and write. Good luck with Obama, and may he stay sane. Hopefully, if his politics are decent, The Big Two comics can move away from all this storm and stress (seriously, I can never spell the German term to this) and into some sort of well... relative lightness of being?

Nice. I was watching from my couch, still half-asleep.

Obama is growing into a truly great public speaker, so yeah, it was disappointing that the other speakers weren't anywhere near hitting par. Aretha Franklin was imho a poor choice, since she hasn't been capable of a stirring performance in something like 10 years. I suppose it isn't so bad that everyone paled in comparison to Obama. It helps build his mystique.

I'm actually Canadian, not American but I think we can all, world wide, wish each other good luck with Obama. *g* He's going to have a big impact on all our lives, after all.

Hopefully, if his politics are decent, The Big Two comics can move away from all this storm and stress (seriously, I can never spell the German term to this) and into some sort of well... relative lightness of being?

Yeah, but unfortunately the sturm und drang is selling like hotcakes. So is the really stupid stuff, like Hulk and Old Man Logan. Ugh.

Praise Song for the Day, by Elizabeth Alexander

I wish someone else had read that poem

Re: I wish someone else had read that poem

Yeah, this

Re: Yeah, this

No, I was in a bar with some Americans

Re: No, I was in a bar with some Americans