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Dear Candice, I have heard, as you put it. I heard Gwendolyn Brooks too. Still do. Mairead On Fri, 8 Jun 2001, Candice Ward wrote: > Oh dear, Mairead--you hadn't heard? Sorry to be the bearer, and all > that--Candice > > > on 6/8/01 12:31 AM, Mairead Byrne at [log in to unmask] wrote: > > > She's not dead. You can't beat birthday. > > Mairead > > > > On Thu, 7 Jun 2001, Candice Ward wrote: > >> > >> In the meantime (yes, isn't it), in honor of the anniversary of Mizz Gwen's > >> birth today (I can't bring myself to call it her birthday under the > >> circumstances--it just seems tactless--and there otter be another term for > >> the birthday of somebody who's dead anyway), have a squidge at Warpland, all > >> yez out there in Woofland--Candice > >> > >> It does give new meaning to "many happy returns, though, I must admit.... > >> > >> > >> ____________ > >>> > >>> THE SECOND SERMON ON THE WARPLAND > >>> > >>> > >>> 1. > >>> This is the urgency: Live! > >>> and have your blooming in the noise of the whirlwind. > >>> > >>> 2. > >>> Salve salvage in the spin. > >>> Endorse the splendor splashes; > >>> stylize the flawed utility; > >>> prop a malign or failing light-- > >>> but know the whirlwind is our commonwealth. > >>> Not the easy man, who rides above them all, > >>> not the jumbo brigand, > >>> not the pet bird of poets, that sweetest sonnet, > >>> shall straddle the whirlwind. > >>> Nevertheless, live. > >>> > >>> 3. > >>> All about are the cold places, > >>> all about are the pushmen and jeopardy, theft-- > >>> all about are the stormers and scramblers, but > >>> what must our Season be, which starts from Fear? > >>> Live and go out. > >>> Define and > >>> medicate the whirlwind. > >>> > >>> 4. > >>> The time > >>> cracks into furious flower. Lifts its face > >>> all unashamed. And sways in wicked grace. > >>> Whose half-black hands assemble oranges > >>> is tom-tom hearted > >>> (goes in bearing oranges and boom). > >>> And there are bells for orphans-- > >>> and red and shriek and sheen. > >>> A garbageman is dignified > >>> as any diplomat. > >>> Big Bessie's feet hurt like nobody's business, > >>> but she stands--bigly--under the unruly scrutiny, stands in the wild weed. > >>> > >>> In the wild weed > >>> she is a citizen, > >>> and is a moment of highest quality; admirable. > >>> > >>> It is lonesome, yes. For we are the last of the loud. > >>> Nevertheless, live. > >>> > >>> Conduct your blooming in the noise and whip of the whirlwind. > >>> > >>> --Gwendolyn Brooks, from *In the Mecca*, 1968 > >> >