When Dey 'Listed Colored Soldiers

Turner: Breakfast speaker didn't hold any punches

“ Martin cared,” she said, followed by her admission of “the older I get, the less I give a damn.”

Dear Damsel in Distress

Dear Damsel in Distress;

The former charming Prince,

is now King of Common Sense.

Aware of your recent urgent plea,

His majesty issues this decree,

In light of fanciful perils alleged by many such as you,

we now, by royal rule, consider dragon’s points of view

Henceforth, melodrama shall be treated with contempt,

And unwise persistence cause for banishment.

Your unfortunate penchant for poisoned apples and such

has been also noted, thank you very much.

By command of His Royal Eminence

King of Common Sense

Cc:

Sir Zipperhead Fred, Earl of Neophyte Manor

The Maven of Mess, Keeper of the Clamor

Nit and Pick, Wizards of Dishonor

And Dark Knights in Brightly Shining Armor

Poetry at the Cantab - Open Mic every Wednesday @ 8 pm

The Cantab Lounge: Latest News

Thursday, June 30, 2011

It seemed like the passing subways were shaking the Cantab underground even more than usual this Wednesday, as poem after poem hit the open mic in honor (or... something) of the MBTA! It was a great warm-up for the slam itself, and that was full of surprises; twenty poets showed off their love-hate relationships with their own local subway line, bringing the audience to smile or sigh with recognition and double over with laughter more than once.

Results: despite strong showings by Michael Monroe for the Red and July 13 Cantab feature Casey Rocheteau for the Orange, the two lines racked up enough time penalties to effectively take themselves out of the running. The Blue, led by slam producer Steve Subrizi, showed remarkable consistency, but somehow fell to the much-maligned Green, who pulled off two group pieces in a surprise big win! Congratulations to Kemi Alabi, Simone I. John, Maya Phillips, Carlos Williams, and bartender Adam Stone --who remarked "I think our prize is to never have to ride the B line again."

Next week: the super-talented Sarah Sapienza shows us what she's learned from coordinating slam scenes from Burlington, Vermont, to Seattle, Washington, to Worcester, Mass. We'll also have an open speed slam (with 3-, 2-, and 1-minute rounds).

Nikki Giovanni @ First Parish, Cambridge Apr 10, 2010

Where Were the Birthers Born? by Calvin Trillin (The Nation)

(A nursery rhyme sung to the tune of "Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone?")

Oh where, oh where were those Birther folks born--
The folks who constantly say
That Obama's not
An American lad?
Which planet sent them our way?

Whichever planet produced folks like that
Just has to be out of sight.
But no matter whether
It's near or far,
I'll bet its leader is white.

Change Your Mind, America - a poem in black & white

Ishamael Reed

Daybreak in Alabama by Langston Hughes

When I get to be a composer
I'm gonna write me some music about
Daybreak in Alabama
And I'm gonna put the purtiest songs in it
Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist
And falling out of heaven like soft dew.
I'm gonna put some tall tall trees in it
And the scent of pine needles
And the smell of red clay after rain
And long red necks
And poppy colored faces
And big brown arms
And the field daisy eyes
Of black and white black white black people
And I'm gonna put white hands
And black hands and brown and yellow hands
And red clay earth hands in it
Touching everybody with kind fingers
And touching each other natural as dew
In that dawn of music when I
Get to be a composer
And write about daybreak
In Alabama.

Langston Hughes

Children Learn What They Live

By Dorothy Law Nolte


If children live with criticism,
They learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility,
They learn to fight.
If children live with ridicule,
They learn to be shy.
If children live with shame,
They learn to feel guilty.
If children live with encouragement,
They learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance,
They learn to be patient.
If children live with praise,
They learn to appreciate.
If children live with acceptance,
They learn to love.
If children live with approval,
They learn to like themselves.
If children live with honesty,
They learn truthfulness.
If children live with security,
They learn to have faith in themselves and others.
If children live with friendliness,
They learn the world is a nice place in which to live.

Dear Damsel in Distress

Dear Damsel in Distress;

The former charming Prince,
is now King of Common Sense.

Aware of your recent urgent plea,
His majesty issues this decree,

In light of fanciful perils alleged by many such as you,
we now, by royal rule, consider dragon’s points of view

Melodrama shall henceforth be considered as contempt,
And unwise persistence cause for banishment.

Your unfortunate penchant for poisoned apples and such
has been also noted, thank you very much.

By command of His Royal Eminence
King of Common Sense

Cc:

Sir Zipperhead Fred, Earl of Neophyte Manor
The Maven of Mess, Keeper of the Clamor
Nit and Pick, Wizards of Dishonor
And Dark Knights in Brightly Shining Armor

To The River Charles - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

River! that in silence windest
Through the meadows, bright and free,
Till at length thy rest thou findest
In the bosom of the sea!
Four long years of mingled feeling,
Half in rest, and half in strife,
I have seen thy waters stealing
Onward, like the stream of life.
Thou hast taught me, Silent River!
Many a lesson, deep and long;
Thou hast been a generous giver;
I can give thee but a song.
Oft in sadness and in illness,
I have watched thy current glide,
Till the beauty of its stillness
Overflowed me, like a tide.
And in better hours and brighter,
When I saw thy waters gleam,
I have felt my heart beat lighter,
And leap onward with thy stream.
Not for this alone I love thee,
Nor because thy waves of blue
From celestial seas above thee
Take their own celestial hue.
Where yon shadowy woodlands hide thee,
And thy waters disappear,
Friends I love have dwelt beside thee,
And have made thy margin dear.
More than this;--thy name reminds me
Of three friends, all true and tried;
And that name, like magic, binds me
Closer, closer to thy side.
Friends my soul with joy remembers!
How like quivering flames they start,
When I fan the living embers
On the hearth-stone of my heart!
'T is for this, thou Silent River!
That my spirit leans to thee;
Thou hast been a generous giver,

Take this idle song from me.

IF - Rudyard Kipling

IF by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

--Rudyard Kipling

Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin 1799 - 1837

"Good for the Poet Who..."

Good for the poet who applies
His art in royal chambers' splendor.
Of tears and laughter crafty vendor,
Adding some truth to many lies,
He tickles the sated taste of lords
For more greatness and awards.
And decorates all their feasts,
Receiving clever praise as fees...
But, by the doors, so tall and stout --
On sides of stables and backyards --
The people, haunted by the guards,
Hark to this poet in a crowd.

The Prophet

Longing for spiritual springs,
I dragged myself through desert sands ...
An angel with three pairs of wings
Arrived to me at cross of lands;
With fingers so light and slim
He touched my eyes as in a dream:
And opened my prophetic eyes
Like eyes of eagle in surprise.
He touched my ears in movement, single,
And they were filled with noise and jingle:
I heard a shuddering of heavens,
And angels' flight on azure heights
And creatures' crawl in long sea nights,
And rustle of vines in distant valleys.
And he bent down to my chin,
And he tore off my tongue of sin,
In cheat and idle talks aroused,
And with his hand in bloody specks
He put the sting of wizard snakes
Into my deadly stoned mouth.
With his sharp sword he cleaved my breast,
And plucked my quivering heart out,
And coals flamed with God's behest,
Into my gaping breast were ground.
Like dead I lay on desert sands,
And listened to the God's commands:
'Arise, O prophet, hark and see,
Be filled with utter My demands,
And, going over Land and Sea,
Burn with your Word the humane hearts.'

Gibran On Children

The Two Glasses

THERE sat two glasses, filled to the brim,
On a rich man's table, rim to rim.
One was ruddy and red as blood,
And one was clear as the crystal flood.

Said the glass of wine to his paler brother,
"Let us tell tales of the past to each other;
I can tell of banquet, and revel, and mirth,
Where I was a king, for I ruled in might;
For the proudest and grandest souls on earth
Fell under my touch, as though struck with blight.

From the heads of kings I have torn the crown;
From the heights of fame I have hurled men down.
I have blasted many an honored name;
I have taken virtue and given shame;
I have tempted the youth with a sip, a taste,
That has made his future a barren waste.

Far greater than any king am I,
Or than any army beneath the sky.
I have made the arm of the driver fail,
And sent the train from the iron rail.
I have made good ships go down at sea,
And the shrieks of the lost were sweet to me.
Fame, strength, wealth, genius before me fall;
Ho, ho! pale brother," said the wine,
"Can you boast of deeds as great as mine?"

Said the water-glass: "I cannot boast
Of a king dethroned, or a murdered host,
But I can tell of hearts that were sad
By my crystal drops made bright and glad;
Of thirsts I have quenched, and brows I have laved;
Of hands I have cooled, and souls I have saved.

I have leaped through the valley, dashed down the mountain,
Slept in the sunshine, and dripped from the fountain.
I have burst my cloud-fetters, and dropped from the sky,
And everywhere gladdened the prospect and eye;
I have eased the hot forehead of fever and pain;
I have made the parched meadows grow fertile with grain.
I can tell of the powerful wheel of the mill,
That ground out the flower, and turned at my will.

I can tell of manhood debased by you,
That I have uplifted and crowned anew;
I cheer, I help, I strengthen and aid;
I gladden the heart of man and maid;
I set the wine-chained captive free,
And all are better for knowing me."

These are the tales they told each other,
The glass of wine and its paler brother,
As they sat together, filled to the brim,
On a rich man's table, rim to rim.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The House of Alpha

“The House of Alpha”

Goodwill is the monarch of this house, men

Unacquainted, enter, shake hands, exchange

Greetings and depart friends.

Cordiality exist

Among all who abide within.

I am the eminent

Expression of friendship.

Character and Temperament change under my dominant power.

Lives once touched by me become tuned and are

Thereafter amiable, kindly, fraternal.

I inspire the musician to play noble sentiments and

Assist the chemist to convert ungenerous

Personalities into individuals of great worth.

I destroy ignoble impulses.

I constantly invoke Principles which make for common brotherhood

And the echo resounds in all communities and

Princely men are thereby recognized.

Education, Health, music, encouragement, sympathy, laughter,

All these are species of interest given of self Invested capital.

Tired moments find me a delightful treat, hours of

Sorrow, a shrine of understanding,

at all times I am Faithful to the creed of companionship,

to a few, I Am the castle of dreams, ambitious, successful,

Hopeful dreams.

To many, I am the poetic place

Where human feeling is rhymed to celestial

Motives; to the great majority,

I am the treasury of Good fellowship.
In fact, I am the college of friendship;

the University of brotherly love;

the school for the Better making of men.

I AM ALPHA PHI ALPHA!!!

Anyway

Mother Teresa's Anyway Poem

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered;

Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;

Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;

Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;

Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;

Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;

Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;

Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;

Give the world the best you've got anyway.

The Blind Men & the Elephant

It was six men of Indostan,

To learning much inclined,

Who went to see the Elephant

(Though all of them were blind),

That each by observation

Might satisfy his mind.

The First approach'd the Elephant,

And happening to fall

Against his broad and sturdy side,

At once began to bawl:

"God bless me! but the Elephant

Is very like a wall!"

The Second, feeling of the tusk,

Cried, -"Ho! what have we here

So very round and smooth and sharp?

To me 'tis mighty clear,

This wonder of an Elephant

Is very like a spear!"

The Third approach'd the animal,

And happening to take

The squirming trunk within his hands,

Thus boldly up and spake:

"I see," -quoth he- "the Elephant

Is very like a snake!"

The Fourth reached out an eager hand,

And felt about the knee:

"What most this wondrous beast is like

Is mighty plain," -quoth he,-

"'Tis clear enough the Elephant

Is very like a tree!"

The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,

Said- "E'en the blindest man

Can tell what this resembles most;

Deny the fact who can,

This marvel of an Elephant

Is very like a fan!"

The Sixth no sooner had begun

About the beast to grope,

Then, seizing on the swinging tail

That fell within his scope,

"I see," -quoth he,- "the Elephant

Is very like a rope!"

And so these men of Indostan

Disputed loud and long,

Each in his own opinion

Exceeding stiff and strong,

Though each was partly in the right,

And all were in the wrong!

MORAL,
So, oft in theologic wars

The disputants, I ween,

Rail on in utter ignorance

Of what each other mean;

And prate about an Elephant

Not one of them has seen!

John Godfrey Saxe's ( 1816-1887)