Kevin's Watch

Nicholas Vachel Lindsay (November 10, 1879 – December 5, 1931)
was an American poet. He is considered the father of modern singing poetry, as he referred to it, in which verses are meant to be sung or chanted. His numerous correspondences with the poet Yeats detail his intentions to revive the musical qualities in poetry as had been practiced by the ancient Greeks.

Because of his identity as a performance artist and his use of American Midwest themes, Lindsay became known in the 1910's as the "Prairie Troubador." For the final 20 years of his life, Lindsay was one of the best-known poets in America. His reputation was high enough to enable him to befriend, encourage, and mentor other poets, such as Langston Hughes and Sara Teasdale. However, his poetry lacked elements that encouraged the attention of academic scholarship, and after his death he became an obscure figure.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vachel_Lindsay

julie has bought a 20's edition of his collected work. one of my favorite poets - you may find my work echoes his influence at times.

Buddha

Would that by Hindu magic we became
Dark monks of jeweled India long ago,
Sitting at Prince Siddartha's feet to know
The foolishness of gold and love and station,
The gospel of the Great Renunciation,
The ragged cloak, the staff, the rain and sun,
The beggar's life, with far Nirvana gleaming:
Lord, make us Buddhas, dreaming.


A Rhyme About an Electrical Advertising Sign

I look on the specious electrical light
Blatant, mechanical, crawling and white,
Wickedly red or malignantly green
Like the beads of a young Senegambian queen.
Showing, while millions of souls hurry on,
The virtues of collars, from sunset till dawn,
By dart or by tumble of whirl within whirl,
Starting new fads for the shame-weary girl,
By maggotry motions in sickening line
Proclaiming a hat or a soup or a wine,
While there far above the steep cliffs of the street

The stars sing a message elusive and sweet.
Now man cannot rest in his pleasure and toil
His clumsy contraptions of coil upon coil
Till the thing he invents, in its use and its range,
Leads on to the marvelous CHANGE BEYOND CHANGE
Some day this old Broadway shall climb to the skies,
As a ribbon of cloud on a soul-wind shall rise.
And we shall be lifted, rejoicing by night,
Till we join with the planets who choir their delight.
The signs in the street and the signs in the skies
Shall make me a Zodiac, guiding and wise,
And Broadway make one with that marvelous stair
That is climbed by the rainbow-clad spirits of prayer.

Factory Windows Are Always Broken

Factory windows are always broken.
Somebody's always throwing bricks,
Somebody's always heaving cinders,
Playing ugly Yahoo tricks.

Factory windows are always broken.
Other windows are let alone.
No one throws through the chapel-window
The bitter, snarling, derisive stone.

Factory windows are always broken.
Something or other is going wrong.
Something is rotten--I think, in Denmark.
End of factory-window song.

Thank you for this topic. My response will likely sound egotistical, but really I know that the examples I give are far above what I can achieve, especially in a state of distress and confusion. Utter confusion.

I was first introduced to Vachel by students at Earlham College, to whom I owe an incredible deal of my wide-ranging education - though, first and foremost I owe thanks to my family, specifically parents, for putting me through school. Frankly, I probably would have been better off without school, all it did is gave me a big head that needs deflating, badly, in order to function at all effectively, as I once did, in a wider world.

Anyway.
This is not a well edited analysis like I would turn in for school, were I still in it, just some momentary reflections.

I think the Buddha poem is quite beautiful - the idea that the most knowledgeable have a duty to make others feel knowledgeable as well. The truth is, I think, that both sides of any relationship between 2 people, even between a child and a guy with an IQ of over 200, should be one of learning on both sides - the experience of knowledge unexperienced. That is why I try to engage with others both as a teacher and a student. Personally, I desire to break down barriers of experience between humans, and get them to accept more than they reject in others, even the worst. To accept that evil cannot destroy evil, as only good can do that (some modern version of King Arthur, I believe, had this line).

(BUT I know that people have different opinions than me on the subject. This is no better a way of doing it than any! I like my little quotes from modernizations of Arthurian tales, and I like them very much!!)

I am reminded of a story of a god who, hoping to help humanity, asked for 100 arms. He got his 100 arms, and couldn't help, so he asked for 100 ears as well. Reminds me of that book The Ear The Eye and The Arm about a team of heroes who alone can do very little and together can save those in peril.

The electrical advertising sign...this I also find interesting. A poem of "change beyond change" from something meant to convey a simple message. It is difficult for me to isolate a very strong theme from this poem, though I can see very strong messages from each line or section of lines. Why, then, should those who see complex messages everywhere attempt to convey simple messages, except to serve their own interests? I have no unitary interest to serve - I will offer my life as a sacrifice whenever it is asked of me. So I give up all hope of achieving one goal. But what would I like to do? Marry, raise a family. If my sons marry daughters and treat them poorly, I will discipline my sons, and if my daughters marry sons I will discipline the sons in place of their fathers should they treat my daughters poorly. Metaphor, of course - I don't really subscribe to such gender identity at all times and all places.

Now, the factory window song is funny - if they are always broken, WHY NOT heave stones through them? Break the already broken, instead of that not yet broken! I am also a fan of the thing about the church window. In season 2 of the wire, a police commissioner and a union organizer both want to put a stained glass window in a church, and the priest decides to favor the union organizer. Naturally, this draws the attention of the police upon the union, and bad shit goes down. Ultimately, the confrontation plays a part in the downfall of the union, but only because the union was a center of corruption with links to organized crime. By the end of the show, we see signs that the union may be being rebuilt with some promise for, at least, no corruption.

Though, I hated the end of the Wire, it got really repetitive, kinda like me.