Silver, “Periodic Table of Poetry” poem by Chicago poet Janet Kuypers

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Silver

Janet Kuypers

from the “ Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#47, Ag)

Got a huge batch of silver bars,
but didn’t want to sell them
because at the time the value of Silver
temporarily dropped.
But the thing is, with all that Silver,
I would have had to pay
people to store it,
costing me even more money.
So I buried it,
and waited for the value of Silver
to rise again
before I cashed my Silver in.

#

I never got the Silverware
from my grandparents,
I was too young
and they lived too long,
but I got the silverware case
from my brothers house
when he moved out
of his last hone.

#

My engagement ring
was originally the wedding ring
of my husband’s great-grandmother.
But that engagement ring
(with a diamond in a white gold setting)
later became a pendant,
and after the fragile
white gold chain broke
(because even though it’s heavy,
it’s expensive, so it was thin),
we replaced it with a Silver chain,
thicker, and therefore stronger,
and worked perfectly
to showcase that diamond
around my neck for years.

#

Silver, mixed with other metals,
can make amalgams, for people
like me with too many
cavities to count. Silver may be
a worthwhile metal element,
but I was relieved
when the dentist
fixed those fillings
with an amalgam matching
the color of my teeth…

#

I worked for years for a minor
in photography in college,
aced every course
from photojournalism to
portrait to art photography.
I’d wind my own film,
coated with an emulsion
containing light-sensitive
Silver halide salts. I loved
working in that darkroom,
seeing images appear
that I captured with my
Silver-emulsion film.

#

I’ve collected Silver coins for years,
and traveling around the globe
has increased my desire
for coins from other countries.
And my mother, years ago
played the dollar slots in Vegas
(back in the day when the slot machines
paid cash directly to you,
and didn’t give you a card
you needed to cash in),
and she won tons of old Silver dollars.
For decades she kept a jar
in the cabinet in the kitchen
(labeled “Maw”)
filled with these Silver dollars.
The Silver dollars were given to me
after she passed away,
and now I have stacks of these
century-old Silver dollars
displayed with all of
my other Silver and metal coins
from around the world.
I know the 1888 Silver dollar
in that collection is so worn
that it can’t be worth much,
but trust me, for sentimental value,
it’s priceless.

Morning in the Burned House. Margaret Atwood. Poetry

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Margaret Atwood is a poet, novelist, story writer, essayist, and environmental activist. Her books have received critical acclaim in the United States, Europe, and her native Canada, and she has received numerous literary awards, including the Booker Prize, the Arthur C. Clarke Award, and the Governor General’s Award, twice. Atwood’s work has been translated into many languages and published in more than twenty-five countries. Among her numerous honors and awards are a Guggenheim Fellowship, a Molson Award, the Ida Nudel Humanitarian Award, and a Canada Short Fiction Award. In 1986 Ms Magazine named her Woman of the Year.

She has served as a Writer-In-Residence and a lecturer at many colleges and universities. Margaret Atwood lives in Toronto.
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Living Life Again | A Poem by Linda Straub

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Yesterday you walked ahead,
While I stayed, left behind
Holding on and letting go,
Caught behind the blurry lines.

Sitting out in the sunshine,
Remembering our former days,
Brilliant life and painful death
Leave me in a foggy haze.

Crying in the thunder,
standing in the rain,
picking up the pieces,
living life again.

Driving on the interstate,
Trying hard to keep the pace,
Far behind but catching up,
Never giving up the race

Now days are a brighter color,
Peace comes without any signs,
Looking ahead, no longer
Caught behind the blurry lines

Crying in the thunder,
standing in the rain,
picking up the pieces,
living life again.

Picking up the pieces,
Living life again.

Who is Anne Carson. Poet

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Anne Carson is a Canadian poet, essayist, translator and professor of Classics. Carson lived in Montreal for several years and taught at McGill University, the University of Michigan, and at Princeton University from 1980-1987. Wikipedia

Her awards and honors include the Lannan Literary Award, the Pushcart Prize, the Griffin Poetry Prize, a Guggenheim fellowship, and the MacArthur Fellowship. She was also the Anna-Maria Kellen Fellow at the American Academy in Berlin, Germany.

Carson was the Director of Graduate Studies in Classics at McGill University and taught at Princeton University from 1980-1987. She has also taught classical languages and literature at Emory University, California College of the Arts, and the University of California, Berkeley. She is currently a Professor of Classics and Comparative Literature at the University of Michigan.


“Poetry recital by Anne Carson”

Canada Reads Poetry: Nox by Anne Carson

Poet of the Day: Anne Carson

Discurso de Anne Carson / Speech by Anne Carson

Live Poetry Reading – Anne Carson Meditations on Melancholy

Anne Carson: Reading from Nox

Anne Carson: Lecture on the History of Skywriting

Free Verse: Anne Carson

The Blaney Lecture: Anne Carson

Anne Carson: A Lecture on Corners

Anne Carson: Performing Antigonick

Anne Carson, Conversation, 26 October 2016

Anne Carson

Poet Anne Carson reads from Decreation

Anne Carson. We've Only Just Begun. 2016

University of Toronto: Anne Carson, Convocation 2012 Honorary Degree recipient

Anne Carson, Reading, 26 October 2016

An Evening with Anne Carson

Anne Carson's Public Lecture: “Stillness” , Centre for Comparative Literature

Poet Anne Carson reads at the 2014 Griffin Poetry Prize readings event

ZVWS POETRY: Anne Carson [January 22nd 2016]

Berliner Rede zur Poesie 2020: Anne Carson

Anne Carson reads from Short Talks (Brick Books)

“Recital poético de Anne Carson”
 

 

ann carson poet

Promethium, “Periodic Table of Poetry” poem by Chicago poet Janet Kuypers

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Promethium

Janet Kuypers

from the “Periodic Table of Poetry” series (#61, Pm)

The end of the world just passed.
Everyone thought that because the Mayans
ended the calendar at the twenty twelve
Winter Solstice, that meant the
World was ending right then and there.

We all waited with baited breath,
in confused anticipation, not knowing
if we should feel a reserved somber mourning,
a sick ignorant religious end-of-days excitement,
or if we should feel nothing at all.

#

Did you know that Prometheus
was the Titan in Greek mythology
who stole fire from Mount Olympus
and brought it down to humans?
Maybe that fire would be the end of times…

Maybe Prometheus symbolizes
both the daring and the possible misuse
of mankind’s intellect. Maybe the Mayan calendar
wouldn’t do us in, but our own ignorance
and abusive ways would.

Maybe that end-of-the-world feeling we got
is from the rare decay of others,
that only produces the very unstable you.
But the thing is, despite your issues,
despite all of the ways of you may do us in,

from radioactivity to your emitting of x-rays,
we’ve learned that with just a little protection
we’re safe through the next calendar cycle.
Now we’re better prepared, and you’ll be the one
wondering about the end of times.