Last spring, I wrote a piece for this website on the poetry of Maurice Manning, whose work reflects and draws on the rich language, stories and landscape of his native Kentucky.

One of the things I learned from writing that reflection is that place itself is a kind of language. And like any language, it informs our view of the world and gives shape to our thoughts as we try to make sense of the world around us.

I believe that the place we are from is in our blood, whether we like it or not. I believe that the land gets under our skin. And I know that, for all its faults, for all its shallowness and brokenness and glitter that isn’t gold, California is under mine.
Hopeless dreams, a rootless restlessness, and heartbreaking proximity to a neverending sea are … Read More »

It’s been five months since I quit teaching.  For three months I worked forty hours at Starbucks and read a lot: Hunger Games, The Lord of the Rings,  Psalms, Surprised by Joy, Letters to a Young Poet.  It’s been almost two months since I started work at a call center; forty hours there, twenty hours at Starbucks.  I had hoped to work two jobs through Christmas, but when I got home one day and couldn’t stop crying, I gave my two-weeks at Starbucks.  So now both familiar jobs, teaching and Starbucks, the ones that supported me in grad school, France, and when I returned to Louisville, are gone.

The reasons I’ve left these jobs are money and writing.  I can’t complain about money, really.  I have enough for rent and small luxuries, but not enough to save, travel, or buy my … Read More »

{Michael Winters reflects on faith, motivation and art.}

The other day as I pulled into the parking lot at the church office, Matthew was obviously up to some mischief. As I came into his view, he fumbled with something and turned the other way.  He looked caught.

I got out of the car, curious to see where this conversation was going to lead. After all, this was the same guy that got caught vandalizing our sign not too long ago.
I figured he was up to something similar, but he was by the electrical box when I first saw him. I hoped he wasn’t trying to cut power to the building. Thank God he didn’t electrocute himself yet.

Matthew has had a hot and cold relationship with our church, and I had just seen a recent facebook post from him … Read More »

{Poet, Paul Willis reflects on To Blossoms by Robert Herrick}

To Blossoms

Fair pledges of a fruitful tree,
Why do ye fall so fast?
Your date is not so past
But you may stay yet here a while,
To blush and gently smile,
And go at last.

What, were ye born to be
An hour or half’s delight,
And so to bid good-night?
‘Twas pity nature brought ye forth
Merely to show your worth,
And lose you quite.

But you are lovely leaves, where we
May read how soon things have
Their end, though ne’er so brave;
And after they have shown their pride,
Like you a while, they glide
Into the grave.

—Robert Herrick (1591-1674)

Robert Herrick may not be as spiritually sincere a poet as George Herbert, but he awakens me to the beauty and pathos of nature as few other writers do.  For the wistful spirit of carpe diem, he is unsurpassable.  “To Blossoms” is one of his many … Read More »

{Pastor, Ryan Strebeck reflects on some of the poetry that has nourished him in his life of ministry.}

I’m such a novice in the world of poetry (you don’t need me to tell you this, but conversing with a poetry community I feel obliged to announce it anyways). My poetry library could mostly be transported in a five-gallon bucket, and my understanding of forms is very limited. Thankfully, I have savvy friends who keep me supplied with enough good poetry to keep me going. Here are a few poems that have  nourished me, particularly in the life of ministry.

The Tyger by William Blake

Without the help of my then three-year-old son, I never would have learned this poem. He pulled a copy of Blake’s illustrated poems off the shelf one night and brought it to me open to this page. A month or … Read More »

{an interview with poet, Amy George.}

when you picture someone reading your poetry, how do you see them? what do they think about, wear, and do? or, maybe a better way to say it: who do you write for? and how do you see your writing nourishing others?

In my mind, they are Christian young adults and older adults, both ministers and regular Joes. They are contemplative and love a good cup of coffee or tea, a walk outdoors, and a little time to themselves.

They love the Psalms as much as I do.

how do you use poetry as a practice for spiritual exploration, discipline, or growth? can you offer any practical advice or sure-fire practices for folks interested in allowing writing to inform their spiritual discipline?

Poetry is reactionary for me. It’s spiritual exploration and growth. It helps me to explore characters in … Read More »

{ in this piece, antler founder and director dave harrity reflects on coming to poetry. this piece, run by tweetspeak last year, is being reposted here to honor williams stafford‘s birthday today. the piece will also be included in harrity’s forthcoming book, “making manifest” }

I began reading poetry because I could never finish novels. I’m not sure this is how many people come to poetry, but it was my route. In high school, I only read a handful of the assigned novels (a mistake I deeply regret now as an adult!) but I read every single poem. When I got to the end of a poem I felt like I had accomplished some- thing, been invited into something—I felt like I’d been given a key.

I liked poetry at that point in my life, but I didn’t love it.

I began writing … Read More »

{Rod Dixon reflects on Rimbaud’s Democracy, the world we are born into and our tendency to forget what’s important.}

Democracy

Translated by Louise Varèse

The flag goes with the foul landscape, and our jargon muffles the drum.

In great centers we’ll nurture the most cynical prostitution. We’ll massacre logical revolts.

In spicy and drenched lands! — at the service of the most monstrous exploitations, industrial or military.

Farewell here, no matter where. Conscripts of good will, ours will be a ferocious philosophy; ignorant as to science, rabid for comfort; and let the rest of the world croak. This is the real advance. Marching orders, let’s go!

———

Never underestimate the power of a great opening line. I remember the first time I came across this poem, reading, “The flag goes with the foul landscape…” I knew this was going to be a great poem.

Beside its power as a wonderful … Read More »

{Chris Brown reflects on his time spent writing, his pastoral vocation and what makes them similar.}

Three days a week, from 6:00 AM to 8:00 AM, my calendar is marked with “Writing.” The reality is, though, that I don’t spend every minute of those two hours writing.  Before turning on my computer and beginning to write, I sit in silence with a candle lit in front of the icons on my desk. Then I pray through a liturgy for Matins or First Hour prayers.  The first words of the morning belong not to me or to my writing, but to the Lord.

I’m a pastor, ordained to “the ministry of Word and Sacrament.” At my ordination service four years ago, the pastor who gave the charge told me that “Ministry is what happens in the wake of the pursuit of God.” Just … Read More »

{Lore Ferguson on the power of remembering and when we should choose to remember.}

It is morning and early. Saturday morning is the only morning we can’t hear the traffic from 170, which can sound like a river, rushing and wild if I let myself think so, and no horns sound or brakes screech. The world is sleeping in.

In Texas they build homes with north facing windows, which is the exact opposite of the North (where we build homes with south facing windows), but which is a very sensible thing to do here. The only window in our home that gets any sunlight at all is the laundry room and so I have found my morning coffee tastes best in here, so long as I can keep lint dust from getting in it.

I sit on top of the dryer, my feet … Read More »