The Rest

George Herbert's poetry isn't as much fun for me as Donne's, but it's still good stuff. When you're reading "The Pulley" pay attention to the word "rest."

LOVE (III)
by George Herbert


Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd anything.

"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
"Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame
Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
"My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
So I did sit and eat.

This is Juicy!

Jasmine A.K.A. "Juicy J" is in my Creative Writing class. I taught her everything she knows! (NOT.)

Who

REblogged from my friend at MTHRBMPR:

“Who are you to question my wisdom with your ignorant words?

Now stand straight up and answer the questions I ask you.
Were you there when I made the world?
If you know so much, tell me about it.”

–Book of Job

The Fall

Natural Burial

I started 17th Century Metaphysical Poetry this week with my classes, and yesterday one of the poems we discussed was "Death Be Not Proud" by John Donne. It goes like this:

Death be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,

For, those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,

Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,

Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.

Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,

And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,

And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then;

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

The poem is one of Donne's Holy Sonnets. He had unenthusiastically entered the ministry at the insistence of King James, and his quick wit, his flair for the dramatic, and his rolling intellect had established him as the mega-rock star preacher of his era. In the poem, the speaker condescendingly confronts Death and personifies him as a tool, a cocksure pawn of Fate, Chance, and desperate men. For the believer, death is really a peaceful little nap at the start of eternal life. Yet he runs around like a bluffing bully. The cacophonous couplet at the end reveals that the joke is on Death. While we wake eternally, death dies.

I'm not sure about all that, but what I do know is that I dig the gist.

So naturally, I had a dream last night about my death. It wasn't a morbid or a disturbing dream. It was one of those dreams where I was thinking, sort of awake. I was contemplating my own little nap and how I hope it goes down. Here's what I dreamt:

When I die, dig a hole in the woods about two meters deep in Newton County, Arkansas or in the Blue Ridge somewhere, 20 or 30 yards away from a waterfall or a bluff or a big, old tree where woodpeckers hang out. Wrap my body in a linen shroud and place it in the hole. No embalming fluids, no incineration, no concrete vault. Cover me up with some soil and relocate a dogwood, a wild blueberry bush, blackberries and raspberries for the bears, some dwarf lilies, mayapples, and ferns. I love ferns. Or just spread some rich duff and fallen leaves; it doesn't matter. One short sleep past, I'll wake eternally and death shall be no more. Visit the waterfall, the bluff, the tree and see what I become.

I'll send you off with a tune in your head if you know the Dave Matthews Band:

Gravedigger,

When you dig my grave,

Could you make it shallow

So that I can feel the rain?

--David John Matthews

Creation

Specifically, how was the King James translation created?

What two creation stories are told in Genesis 1-3?

What existed before Creation?

What was at the root of Jonah's grief?

According to the "Parable of the Good Samaritan," who is your neighbor?

The packet you are reading for homework this weekend is interesting. It's a different experience to read the Bible with no chapter or verse "numbering" because it allows you to focus on the whole story rather than individual verses.

I advise you to read carefully regardless of how well you think you know the Bible. You might be surprised.

Paradise Lost Quiz

1. The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.

A) Speaker:

B) Significance:

C) Diagram it:

Rome and Me

MLK Jr Day Family Picnic

luminarium.org

Luminarium.org is the best website that I've found on the internet for old, British poetry. I encourage you to check it out and see if it can help you over the coming weeks.

There is always a link to it on the sidebar to the left.

John Milton's Cosmos

Today in class, I get to talk about John Milton and Paradise Lost. We only read a few famous passages from the work, but I take some time to put the piece in an historical and philosophical context. The setting of the story is what fascinates me the most.

Milton's Heaven surrounds a fountain of indestructible, fiery light, out of which everything in Heaven is created. Angels swirl around, appearing as rainbows, and clouds veil the fountain of God to protect the angels' eyes. If they were to look directly into the light, they would be blinded. It's interesting that Milton claimed that much of the work came to him directly from God--in the form of a blinding light--in strange fits in the middle of the night. Much of it was written down by his daughter/slave after he went blind as an older man. I secretly hope she changed a few words here and there.

Directly below Heaven, as if it were hanging on a chain, is the fledgling Universe--God's comfort-food creation for Himself after the notorious revolt on His throne. In relation to the whole Cosmos, the Universe is tiny , and at the geometrical center is Planet Earth--the Garden of Eden--a mere spec of sand on a vast beach compared with the rest of the Universe. Extraterrestrial life is possible, even likely. In Book XIII, an angel tells Adam that on another planet, "clouds may rain, and rain produce/Fruits in her soften'd soil, for some to eat/Alloted there." Angels can leave Heaven and visit Adam and Eve. They disclose little secrets of the Universe and of God, but they don't tell too much.

Engulfing everything below Heaven is a realm Milton called Chaos. Chaos is simply an infinite "womb of space," swirling matter out of which the Universe and Hell are created. The place is described as "warring atoms." Milton was an accomplished astronomer (a composer too by the way); he had many stellar secrets figured out on his own. He missed a few important ones too though, like Earth being the center of the Universe.

Below everything is Hell. Hell was created for Lucifer and his army long, long ago. When God kicked them out of Heaven, they fell through Chaos for 9 days--so far and so fast that their rainbows were melted into grotesque lizard skins. Hell is not only a physical place, but burning lakes of sulfurous darkness to boot. It is also a psychological place, at the heart of Satan when he cries. Hell, like the Garden of Eden, can be fun though. Demons lounge around at Pandemonium, Satan's castle, and sing sentimental songs of self-pity, wax philosophic, have tournaments. Satan comes out on the balcony every so often and rallies his men. The demons can leave Hell too and fly around the Universe creating havoc, which has always puzzled me.

It's fun stuff to think about and say outloud. We really believe this stuff a lot of us.