Mama Gonna Knock You Out

Lately, I've been intellectualized lyrics by L.L. Cool Jay as I run on the treadmill. Maybe that's because I've been teaching hyperbole to my 7th graders, but I think it is more likely a sign that I need to get back to the books. I've taken almost two months off from my program and I'm itching to get back into it. If only the children could pick themselves up from school, make their own dinner and put themselves in bed! I'd have ample time to get back to it! : )

It is strange to be this side of the exams. To know that all that I need to study now is what I want to study. I've been gorging myself on books on Sappho. (I've actually found the edition that H.D. and Amy Lowell referred studied her from and it is surprisingly good!) I've also been applying for jobs at community colleges. I've definitely realized that teaching 7th grade English is not something I can do even for a little while.

D.C. finally got snow on Monday. We got a dusting, but schools were delayed by 2 hours. It was a great treat to have a slow morning and not have to rush the kids (and myself) of to school. It's funny how little snow shuts this city down. When I was in college there was a blizzard and it shut the whole city down for over a week.

In the spirit of getting back into the swing of my studies, I thought I would post a poem by Amy Lowell. This one is called "Generations" and is taken from her collection Pictures of the Floating World.

Generations

You are like a stem
of a young beech-tree,
straight and swaying,
Breaking out in golden leaves.
Your walk is like the blowing of beechtree
On a hill.
Your voice is like leaves
Softly struck upon by a South wind.
Your shadow is no shadow, but a scattered sunshine;
At night you pull the sun down to you
And hood yourself in stars.

But I am like a great oak under a cloudy sky,
Watching a stripling beech grow up at my feet.

It's not her best poem. But it is a poem that really showcases Lowell's style. She didn't fear repetition (repeating beech). And the clarity and emotional breadth that radiates from her images is gorgeous (the last two lines of the first stanza).