Jan Donley

Bardo Poem

17 August 08 | Comments [2] »

Here is the poem (perhaps still in progress) that grew out of my lessons in negative space and my introduction to the buddhist concept of bardo. Thank you, Kennon.

“A Lesson in Negative Space”

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Another Poem

9 August 08 | Comments [0] »

Here is one more poem by Guri Andermann.
I love the line—“the way scarecrows are nailed up against blue skies.” While I originally interpreted this poem to be about mental break down—this time reading it, I thought about the steady decline of anything. The poem, to me, is a great companion piece to Elizabeth Bishop’s “One Art” and Anne Sexton’s “Courage.”

BREAKING DOWN

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Poets

25 July 08 | Comments [0] »

When I was 20, I met Guri. She probably had more influence on my young mind than any other person I have known. She introduced me to so much new. We first met as part of a poetry group—all women: Pearl Sarah Bates, Hedy Berman, Nora Stern, Guri Andermann, and me. That group produced a chapbook of poems called “Mother Mountain.” Guri and I lost touch over the years, but with the help of my website, we have reconnected, and in reconnecting with Guri, I am also reconnecting with poetry.

So it is fitting that I offer a poem here—one that Guri wrote—and one that reminds me of what a fine poet she is:

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Bleeding Hearts

7 May 08 | Comments [0] »

The Bleeding Heart Bush is a perennial metaphor. It blooms at this time of year; and in the morning, when I walk Gizmo, I stop and stare at one that rises from behind my neighbor’s small wooden fence—all those hearts bleeding.

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The Perfect Glass

25 February 08 | Comments [5] »

Recently, I purchased three stemless wine glasses. I wanted six, but the store only had three. One evening, I poured some chianti into one of the glasses. I drank. It was a perfect wine experience.

These glasses are not thin, as are so many wine glasses. They have a certain stability to them. And the design cut into the crystal is called “pearl”—white dots neatly aligned vertically. The 15 oz. shape fits perfectly into my small hands.

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Rain

6 February 08 | Comments [0] »

In Boston, we are experiencing February rains. This morning, walking Gizmo, I noticed just a few patches of dirty snow left from the series of storms we had some weeks ago.

Back inside the house, I dried Gizmo off with a towel, pulled off my dripping hood, and for some reason, remembered July, when I had major surgery, and then remembered the day we brought Gizmo home, almost 10 years ago. Why did those two memories come to me at that moment?

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My Stories

15 January 08 | Comments [4] »

Avid soap opera watchers generally refer to their favorite soaps as “my story.” And my sister-in-law, over the holidays, referring to the writers’ strike and Grey’s Anatomy, said, “I miss my story.”

Where did that start? Calling a serial drama “my story”? Not a story but my story? I love that.

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Once Upon a Time

2 January 08 | Comments [3] »

I was pleased to watch the film called Once about an Irish street singer/vacuum cleaner repair man and a young woman who changes his luck. What a beautiful tale of intimacy, music, and friendship. It had fairy tale qualities, but its content surprised me with its unpredictable turns.

And on a different note, but still in the folk-tale-once-upon-a-time category, I happened to watch Tim Burton’s adapation of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I was so drawn to Ichabod’s Crane mixture of vulnerability and strength, and so wrapped up in the story’s theme of the rational as it comes to terms with the irrational.

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All writings © Jan Donley 1985-2007
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