Friday, May 15, 2020

Biking

So recently, with all the coronastuffs that have been happening, I started biking much more seriously than before. I've been biking to other towns with a friend, and we take those country roads with almost no traffic. Its great to be able to forget all the things that are happening right now and escape into the 'countryside' where almost all you can see is the sky and tilled cornfields.
Amusingly, we don't need a GPS because on flat terrain like Illinois', nothing is impeding you from locating each town's water tower. 
On our first escapade, we went to Mahomet, about 16 miles away from where we started. on the outskirts of Mahomet, there's this one pretty big hill, with a road that runs south and north on it. Going into Mahomet was a breeze, because the wind was with us the entire time. This of course meant that the entire way back was going to be hell, as the wind started picking up as the day went by.
But have y'all ever ridden a bike downhill, peddling as fast as you can, with the wind against you?

This poem, "Bike Ride" by Jelisa Jeffery explains it.

I went down a hill on my bike,
It was fun.

The air in my hair,
Although my hair is quite short,
I could feel it.

I opened my eyes so the wind
Would meet them
And then slide to the corners
And off of my cheek.

There was a feeling of aloneness,
but a good one.
My partner was up ahead of me,
But ahead enough I could ignore they were there
For just a moment
And I could have sworn
I was flying.

The like "a feeling of aloneness /  but a good one" really resonated with me because it's really true. It's especially true around here because there (depressingly) really is nothing around these parts. Its just you, your bike, the cornfields, and the sky.

And that's a great feeling until you crash into a ditch!



Friday, May 8, 2020

PTSD

I think for the majority of us, PTSD isn't really something we can relate to. I can't imagine up a traumatic memory and explore the world pretending to be someone with PTSD. In that sense, their world is unfamiliar to us. In a short series of Haikus, Alan Pelaez Lopez, describes dreams he has of a past memories, titled "Zapotec Crossers (or, Haiku I Write Post-PTSD Nightmares)":

i

Waves smack the body,
Nayeli, seven, drowning.
Spring: crossing season.

ii

Summer indicates
the migration will be “safe.”
Yej Susen, three, sprints.

iii

Inda Jani, one,
knows to crawl under the fence — 
she was trained all fall.

iv

At four ai-em, Yao,
twelve, is sewn inside car seat;
winter will protect.

v
Itzel, five, plays dead.
Border patrol agents see
her body — they leave.

It leaves a frightening image in your head, where these young kids have to cross the border in various ways- obviously in ways that will probably leave a lasting effect on them for the rest of their lives.

Friday, May 1, 2020

Argentine epic

El Gaucho Martín Fierro is a 2,316-line epic poem by the Argentine writer José Hernández, written in 1872. It is widely seen as the pinnacle of the genre of "gauchesque" poetry, poetry surrounding the life of the "Gaucho"- think of them sort of like South American cowboys, but with a much deeper culture. This poem helps paint a picture of their culture and history, as they were very important in the independence of the lower-south American countries.  The epic has appeared in hundreds of editions and has been translated into over 70 languages.

The epic is crazy, and there's a lot that happens.

It starts off with a simple Gaucho, Martin Fierro. He's a chill guy, living a chill life on a chill ranch with his chill family. He likes going down to the local equivalent of a bar/store and singing to the other gauchos. Most of his singing is all about how the Gauchos are being mistreated and discriminated against.
While singing at the bar one day, there is a raid and Martin is captured. The judge, on the basis that Martin never voted, but obviously because he didn't like Gauchos, sends Martin to fight at the Argentine border in a small fort against the indians.
He is forced to fight, but one day during an indian raid he escapes on horse, spending the next year as a fugitive. He's captured again, punished, and sent back to fight. A drunken soldier shoots him, but our boy is unhurt and he decides, yet again, to escape. It takes him three years, but he finally makes it back home!
...Only to find that his home and family are long gone.
He's obviously still being persecuted, and he lives like an outlaw. He kills two people at some party over a dispute, and then during a fight with policemen, he somehow manages to befriend one, and they escape together to live with some indians.

The end.

But not really! A second book continues their journey, called La Vuelta de Martín Fierro, or The return of Martin Fierro.
We learn that it went pretty horribly for them. The indians believe they are spies, but they are saved at the last minute by their chief. Here we see that the indians had been fighting disease, and after not having been able to find a cure, they have taken their wrath on people they thought started it.
The policeman friend and the chief both die shortly afterwards.
At the grave of his friend, Martin hears the cry of some woman, who he meets and learns that she has been accused of bewitching her son, who died. Her captor tied her up in the entrails of her son. Thats a nice picture, right?
He escapes with her, drops her off at some ranch, finds his two surviving sons, the son of his policeman friend, and ultimately has a standoff with the younger brother of a guy he had killed previously. In the end, he swears to live his life peacefully, but what happens in the standoff is never clear.

The epic dives deep into gaucho culture and speaking patterns, and is quite a different read than 'old spanish' poems. Think of like and old english writer who uses "ye" and adds "-eth"s to the end of words suddenly use "y'all" and "s'cuse me" for a few verses. It would throw you for a loop.

anyways, here's the project gutenberg thing for the epic:
http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/14765/pg14765-images.html

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

Cantares de Dzitbalché

The "Songs of Dzitbalché" is the only manuscript of Ancient Mayan poetry known to still exist. The poems cover the poet's personal thoughts, philosophy, love, and most importantly mentions parts of old rituals and spiritual values.

It was found in 1942 in Merida, Yucatan, and was 18 pages long, written on Spanish paper using ink. It was written in "Colonial Yucatec Maya", which was the alphabetic writing that the Mayans learned during the Early Colonial period. Basically the Spanish had banned the old writings and possession of the old books, so some tried to copy the old codices down. The format has similarities to European-style books- it has lines and stanzas, each poem begins on a new page, and most have titles. According to the analysis of the extraordinary linguist Barrera Vásquez, the manuscript was produced around 1742, because of a certain spelling the author used that was not used until then. It is very likely that it is a copy of a previous codex, written in 1440.

The original title of the book is "The Book of Dances of the Ancient Men that was the Custom Here in the Villages Before the White Men Arrived" A large number of the poems incorporate fragments of ancient ceremonies; others are descriptions of those ceremonies. However, it is not always possible to distinguish between the two.

I'll give two examples!  As well as show an image of the original text.

THE MOURNING SONG
OF THE POOR MOTHERLESS ORPHAN
DANCE TO DRUMBEATS

I was very small when my mother died,
when my father died.
Ay ay, my Lord!
Raised by the hands of friends,
I have no family here on earth.
Ay ay, my Lord!
Two days ago my friends died,
and left me insecure
vulnerable, alone. Ay ay!

That day I was alone
and put myself
in a stranger's hand.
Ay ay, my lord!
Evil, much evil passes here
on earth. Perhaps
I will never stop crying.

Without family,
alone, very lonely I walk,
crying day and night
only cries consume my eyes and soul.
Under evil so hard.
Ay ay, my Lord!
Take pity on me, put an end
to this suffering.
Give me death , my Beautiful Lord,
or give my soul transcendence!

Poor, poor
alone on earth
pleading insecure lonely
imploring door to door
asking every person I see to give me love.
I who have no home, no clothes,
no fire.
Ay my lord! Have pity on my!
Give my soul transcendence
to endure.
Here's the other one, and much happier, though don't think too much about the significance of the title. This is an example of a poem describing a ritual:

FLOWER SONG

The most alluring moon
has risen over the forest;
it is going to burn
suspended in the center
of the sky to lighten
all the earth, all the woods,
shining its light on all.
Sweetly comes the air and the perfume.
Happiness permeates all good men.

We have arrived inside the woods
where no one will see what we have
come here to do.

We have brought plumeria flowers,
chucum blossoms, dog jasmines;
we have the copal,
the low cane vine,
the land tortoise shell,
new quartz, chalk and cotton thread;
the new chocolate cup,
the large fine flint,
the new weight,
the new needle work,
gifts of turkeys, new leather,
all new, even our hair bands,
they touch us with nectar
of the roaring conch shell
of the ancients.

Already, already
we are in the heart of the woods,
at the edge of the pool in the stone
to await the rising
of the lovely smoking star
over the forest.
Take off your clothes,
let down your hair,
become as you were
when you arrived here on earth,
virgins, maidens.


This here is the original text, written above the title is the word kolomche, which means "A Ceremonial Dance" and below the title is the first poem, "I will kiss your mouth."
In Lak'ech Campeche: ¿CIVILIZACIÓN?
If you're curious like me and want to try and match that old alphabet to the current Yucatec Mayan writing, good luck. It's near the center, not the bottom-most text.
BIN IN TZ'UUTZ' A CHI
Bin in tz'uutz' a chi
Tut yam x cohl
X ciichpam zac
Y an y an a u ahal 




Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Acrostics

I think at some point in each of our lives, we've all had to write an acrostic poem. Y'all remember back in like 4th grade when the teacher said "Ok class, we're going to use our names to make poetry!" or something, and you felt bad for the girl named Elizabeth and your friend Sebastian, while your name was on the shorter side so you just chilled? Or perhaps it was on mother's day and they made you write out "M O T H E R" and they forced you to find a bunch of adjectives and nouns, but you were in first grade, so for M you sloppily wrote out "Mom"?

Acrostics do be like that.

 Or, even cringier, perhaps you had one of those childhoods where your mom never let you buy birthday cards from the store for your friend's birthday parties? Because "you can just make your own"? I know I did. Those DIY(in the car on the way to the party, but never ever mention that) birthday cards were filled with acrostics.

I didn't even know those were called acrostics.
Acrostics, acrostics, acrostics, acrostics, acrostics. Now you know too.

So now I'm here to share some acrostics with you- and I think I found a good one. This acrostic is a farewell card to a *loved*  British politician on the island of Newfoundland. When NFL joined Canada, this man left in a hurry. The people made an acrostic to say goodbye.

The prayers of countless thousands sent
Heavenwards to speed thy safe return,
Ennobled as thou art with duty well performed,
Bringing peace, security and joy
Among the peoples of this New Found Land.
So saddened and depressed until your presence
Taught us discern and help decide what's best for
All on whom fortune had not smiled.
Remember if you will the kindness and the love
Devotion and the respect that we the people have for Thee
  "Farewell!"

Quite a goodie indeed. The thing that makes an acrostic an acrostic is that certain letters in each line all form a vertical word. Generally it's at the beginning. I think this specific acrostic really brings out the love for our British politician friend.
Oh, and you know how we all hate PETA, well it turns out they like making acrostics too! Colonel Sanders is probably turning over in his grave after having read this.

Kind
Friend of
Chickens

Today we honor your memory
Our love for you continues
Rest in peace
Those suffering and
Unable to move
Remember you.
Each one striving for
Salvation

Brother,
In us and in you
Remains
Dreams for the
Souls of the voiceless.

This one makes me laugh. I dunno- KFC still tastes great, man.

Thats it for my acrostic extravaganza! If y'all have any acrostic-making memories that you've suppressed or any great acrostics y'all would like to share, comment below!

Tuesday, April 7, 2020

favorite poet

first blogpost on this blog here, and I'm here to say that Mario Benedetti is my favorite poet so far. I found him while looking at some Pablo Neruda poems, and I started looking through his stuff. It was pretty good.
Benedetti is from Uruguay, a small country in South America. He wrote poetry, novels, essays, short stories, and even two plays. Hos works covered a variety of topics- politics, world events, love, and much more. His political activism, however, got him exiled for 12 years during the military dictatorship of Uruguay in 1973. Upon his return, he was awarded many prizes within the South American community.
His poems generally have a bunch of stanzas, but you don't notice it because each verse doesn't contain too many words.I found myself enjoying his poems pretty quickly, as they were constructed simply, but with a point in mind. Compared to other poets we’ve read with long, convoluted poems with a message that you had to really think about to understand, these were meant for people to understand, without the complicated jargon of other poems. In this sense, he does a fantastic job of expressing himself in a way everyone can understand, over a variety of topics.
While I would post examples of his works, not many have been translated into English.
Here is one called Poema Frustrado that if you want you can put into google translate. It's about his and a friend's reaction to the use of the atomic bomb in wwii.
This other one is one called When you are smiling, and is about a totally different topic.

I hope y'all enjoy!
(though tell me what you think in the comments pls)