This is a book of poems I will find myself reading again and again.

A few days after explaining to a friend that poetry is a genre that I generally avoid, or at least rarely turn to gladly, up pops a small collection by Wendell Berry in the local bookstore. Of course I had to read it, and it quickly moved the 'poetry genre' needle in the direction of my being likely to read more.

The poem I enjoyed the most was titled "The Reassurer", of which everybody should take some time to search out, and I won't be quoting here. However, here's some brief examples of others you will find in this brief collection that I will surely be returning to:

From "Prayers and Sayings of the Mad Farmer":
"When I rise up
let me rise up joyful
like a bird.

When I fall
let me fall without regret
like a leaf."

From "Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front":
"As soon as the generals and politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection."

From "Some Further Words":
"Neither this world or any of its places
is an 'environment'. And a house for sale
is not a 'home'. Economics
is not a 'science', nor 'information' knowledge.
A knave with a degree is a knave. A fool
in public office is not a 'leader'.
A rich thief is a thief. And the ghost
of Arthur Moore, who taught me Chaucer,
returns in the night to say again:
'Let me tell you something boy.
An intellectual whore is a whore."

i had high hopes for this little collection, as i found it through an interesting book of essays about heretical herbs.

there are interesting and poignant moments, such as this line near the beginning: “whose hands reach into the ground and sprout,” and these: “Listen to carrion—put your ear / close, and hear the faint chattering / of the songs that are to come. / Expect the end of the world. Laugh.”

however, the majority of these poems are just didactic and a little dull. i think what i’d hoped for was something lively and animist, poems that foreground the natural world, but what i got was a celebration of a certain archetype of man, who is very much a rugged individual and definitely has a superiority complex over those not like him. also, we get it, machines are bad.

oh well. it’s short enough that i read the whole thing. this book definitely confirms my suspicion of wendell berry’s overall vibe, and i won’t waste my time reading any more of his work.

[a train journey read among many train journeys]


II
At night make me one with the darkness.
In the morning make me one with the night

V
Don’t own so much clutter that you will be relieved to see your
house catch fire

XII
Let me wake in the night
and hear it raining
and go back to sleep



…surprised by nightfall to be weary

the bodies of men, able in the heat
and sweat and weight and length
of the day’s work, eager in their spending,
attending to nightfall, the bodies of women

sleep after love, dreaming
white lilies blooming
cooly out of the flesh

… fox tracks in snow, the impact
of lightness upon lightness
unendingly silent



…Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Swear allegiance…


The First Amendment:
2.
To be sane in a mad time
is bad for the brain, worse
for the heart. The world
is a holy vision, had we clarity
to see it -- a clarity that men
depend on to make.


we take poisoned medicines to heal them of the poisons that they breathe, drink, and eat,
[I love an Oxford comma]


Come all ye conservatives and liberals
who want to conserve good things and be free,


...I know
a 'fetus' is a human child.
I loved my children from the time
they were conceived, having loved
their mother, who loved them
from the time they were conceived
and before...


By chance? Prove it, then, and I
by chance will kiss your ass.

3.5 - hit or miss for me (but the hits were incredible and the misses weren't terrible)

“be joyful though you have considered all the facts" from “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front” really spoke to me

So blooming excellent. Philosophy as an applied science, as illustrated by poetry as itself.