Goodness sakes alive, I can't get enough of Wendell Berry. I had the pleasure of cramming into a PACKED lecture hall last semester and hearing him read from his latest book and recite some of his poems. He was just the most lovely man. He is famous for writing about the beauty of nature, rural life and the necessity of conserving and cherishing it. He also grew up in Kentucky and has the most precious accent. There is something special about hearing someone read their own writing, whether poetry or prose. Where I often find frustration through the limiting nature of the written word, hearing it read aloud by it's author breathes a certain life into the linear writing.
Anyway, Mr. Berry finished his talk by reading the following poem from one of his books he borrowed from an eager woman in the front row. It was an absolutely perfect series of moments and made this poem all the more special to me.
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
"It occurred to me then, that perhaps the reason for my growth was that I was intended for larger things. After all, a giant man can't have an ordinary-sized life."
Monday, April 25, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Music: Wedding Dress, Derek Webb
Take a listen, and if you have a bit to read and process, take a look at this: http://www.leaderu.com/marshill/mhr08/curtis1.html
If you could love me as a wife
and for my wedding gift, your life
Should that be all I'll ever need
or is there more I'm looking for
and should I read between the lines
and look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich, and wise
Is that really what you want
I am a whore I do confess
But I put you on just like a wedding dress
and I run down the aisle
and I run down the aisle
I'm a prodigal with no way home
but I put you on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle to you
So could you love this bastard child
Though I don't trust you to provide
With one hand in a pot of gold
and with the other in your side
I am so easily satisfied
by the call of lovers so less wild
That I would take a little cash
Over your very flesh and blood
Because money cannot buy
a husband's jealous eye
When you have knowingly deceived his wife
If you could love me as a wife
and for my wedding gift, your life
Should that be all I'll ever need
or is there more I'm looking for
and should I read between the lines
and look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich, and wise
Is that really what you want
I am a whore I do confess
But I put you on just like a wedding dress
and I run down the aisle
and I run down the aisle
I'm a prodigal with no way home
but I put you on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle to you
So could you love this bastard child
Though I don't trust you to provide
With one hand in a pot of gold
and with the other in your side
I am so easily satisfied
by the call of lovers so less wild
That I would take a little cash
Over your very flesh and blood
Because money cannot buy
a husband's jealous eye
When you have knowingly deceived his wife
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