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Showing posts with label Mangogna. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mangogna. Show all posts

Friday, July 15, 2011

Nature Assigns the Sun


(Blue Star by Joan Miró, 1893-1983,
Spanish painter, ceramist, and sculptor)

“A wish for friendship may arise quickly,” says Aristotle in Nicomachean Ethics, “but friendship does not.”

You cannot plan or design a friendship.

Nature assigns the Sun —
That — is Astronomy —
Nature cannot enact a Friend —
That — is Astrology

~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), American poet

Saturday, April 30, 2011

I Go Unto the Altar of Night

We now reach the end of April, National Poetry Month, which we have celebrated with the U.S. poets laureate.

Next month, we shall feature the works of the remaining American Laureates and then present poems by some British Laureates. (Britain’s office of the poet laureate served as the model for the American post.)



(Barbara Sullivan Mangogna, at a poetry reading, April 17, 2011)

This month, however, ends on a sad note. A dear friend of this blog, Barbara Sullivan Mangogna, passed away peacefully, late on Palm Sunday.

Barbara was a poet who helped others hear how the spoken word can sing with rhythm and rhyme. She loved poetry of every kind, from the romantic verses of Yeats, to the reflective lines of Auden, and to the free verse of the moderns.

But it was a fondness for the Belle of Amherst, for all things Emily, that was our special connection. Barbara loved e-mailing me about the joy she felt about a phrase, a line, or a verse of Miss Dickinson’s, or when she came across a new book or a website about the poet.

When I think of Barbara’s goodness and generosity, I hear Emily’s phrasing of Christ’s words on the cross:


My Guest “Today in Paradise”
I give thee guaranty.

As a woman who had suffered the amputation of a leg due to rheumatoid arthritis, Barbara appreciated the healing power of poetry. The following poem of hers was originally printed in Blindness Isn’t Black, a beautiful collection of poems, short stories, and illustrations published by the VSA Arts of Missouri (2009), dedicated to publicizing the arts created by people with disabilities.

We published the poem on this blog on May 19 last year.

It is a fitting memorial.


I GO UNTO THE ALTAR OF NIGHT

boneless
here I am no longer broken

but dance
to the music of memory

flaunt my living flesh
my crutchlessness

celebrate the legs that still
carry me to morning

~ Barbara Sullivan Mangogna

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

I Go Unto the Altar of Night


(Blue Bird and Red Swan, watercolor by
Janice C. Atkins, published in Blindness Isn’t Black)

I GO UNTO THE ALTAR OF NIGHT

boneless
here I am no longer broken

but dance
to the music of memory

flaunt my living flesh
my crutchlessness

celebrate the legs that still
carry me to morning

~ Barbara Sullivan Mangogna, an American poet who is an amputee. This verse was found in Blindness Isn’t Black, a beautiful collection of poems, short stories and illustrations published by VSA Arts of Missouri (2009)