Still waiting for Spring here, but happy for those who are getting it.
bob sykesMarch 20, 2018, 4:49 AM
Our common tastes in poetry always surprise me. cummings is one of my favorites. Many years ago I found several books that were photocopies of his original typescripts. And no, you can’t have them. It’s morning here in North Central Ohio, and cold and overcast. After lunch, I’ll get out my cummings’ typescripts and read him.
PS. When we were younger, the Cincinnati Reds, the oldest baseball franchise, had the privilege of playing the first game of each new season. Somewhere along the line, that tradition got trashed. Even though I am a Red Sox fan (for life), I should like to see that tradition restored.
Dan PattersonMarch 20, 2018, 5:55 AM
Love ee cummings as well. I know little of his inspirations and being of a simple mind I do not understand the “goat-footed baloonMan whistles” line. There is menace there, both in imagery and meter. Cloven hoof? Or is it literal: “lame baloonman “? The long time between baloonMan and whistles portends horror. Or is it just me?
And to bob sykes (lower case as a respectful nod to cummings?) and the Cincinnati Reds: Strongly agree to have the Reds play the first game! Red Stockings were worn by Fed Artillerymen in the 1861 war of northern invasion. Likely connection, but I cannot quickly locate a reference.
Apologies for the multiple question marks. Cheers y’all.
Snakepit KansasMarch 20, 2018, 5:55 AM
Gerard,
Where is the Cincinnati Reds diamond? The photo looks far too new for Crosley Field and certainly not the old Riverfront, or whatever the new stadium is called today. My first decade was near Dayton and my Dad would take me to Reds’ games at Riverfront. Johnny Bench, Pete Rose, Joe Morgan, George Foster…with play-by-play radio personalities Al Michaels (before he hit the big time) and former Reds pitcher, Joe Nuxhall.
pbirdMarch 20, 2018, 8:25 AM
Dan, i always thought the goat footed balloon man was a reference to tragedy coming and growing up and mutability. Spring does not last.
VanderleunMarch 20, 2018, 9:27 AM
I would think, and others agree, that the “goat-footed balloon man” refers to the god Pan, in a strange contemporary guise perhaps, who plays his Pan pipes to signal the sexuality and vitality of Spring. To wit:
===== Pan (god) – Wikipedia
In ancient Greek religion and mythology, Pan (/pæn/;[1] Ancient Greek: Πάν, Pan) is the god of the wild, shepherds and flocks, nature of mountain wilds, rustic music and impromptus, and companion of the nymphs.[2] He has the hindquarters, legs, and horns of a goat, in the same manner as a faun or satyr. With his homeland in rustic Arcadia, he is also recognized as the god of fields, groves, and wooded glens; because of this, Pan is connected to fertility and the season of spring
Dan PattersonMarch 20, 2018, 10:23 AM
Not to beat this apart, but I see the Pan connection albeit thinly. I don’t get vitality, but ominous gloom. What does the “lame” statement in the first stanza, and the temptation of a “baloon” toy from a disfigured man and the associated wariness do for you? “Far and wee”? And why the spelling? This discussion belongs in a classroom and I appreciate the diversion.
Snakepit’s question about the ball field: Looks like spring training in Arizona.
GordonMarch 20, 2018, 10:30 AM
The first sign of spring in Minneapolis is the rapid melting of the snow piles alongside roads and in the corners of parking lots. Some of them, more tenacious than others, can hang on into May. The piles are full of dirt, petroleum residue, sand and trash. All the trash that fell for months, and was buried within the piles by the plows.
It’s ugly. The trees and bushes are still barren, although one can see whisps of green in the grass in places. It can still snow, a lot, for another three or four weeks. But about mid-April, one can notice a haze of green in the trees. Then, a week later, they explode with growth.
It still startles me every year, and I’ve lived here for over 30 years. April 1, gray, brown, black, dead. April 30, the lushness is stunning. The mason bees are working the early blooming bushes (you can tell they’re mason bees by the little white aprons and little red hats). The dairy cows are still kind of happy/feisty back in the fields after being indoors for four months. The roads outstate are full of tractors and implements. And 100 miles north, in the woods, winter is still hanging on, but slowly losing the grip.
VanderleunMarch 20, 2018, 5:35 PM
The introduction of Pan or the goatfooted one is the elements or emblems or images that keeps this poem from being just a Hallmark Card.
Note his changes from the beginning from “little old” to “queer” to “goat-footed.”
After all, Spring means the return of fructification, of sexuality, of randy romps and dangerous liasons. It’s not all angels wings and babies’ bottoms. Some of this Spring stuff is hot times in the old corn field tonight having sex to symbolically fertilize the crops. Pagan gods blowing pan pipes for children to follow into the fields….
Snakepit KansasMarch 20, 2018, 6:47 PM
Mr. Patterson,
Reds spring training in Arizona makes sense. Thank you, sir!
ghostsniperMarch 20, 2018, 7:29 PM
Speaking of spring….we got 6″ of snow today and still, all night long I suppose….so we’ll have to wait a little longer. sigh
And yet I had the gall to fire up the grill 3 suppers in a row since Sat in high 50’s temps.
Howard NelsonMarch 20, 2018, 9:11 PM
Gold-tressed child in coat of blue
There’s more truth bubbling in you
Then we’ll ever know
Or ever once knew.
Play, play, the sun will wait
Holding back Night in its flight
Holding open Heaven’s gate.
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Gerard Van der Leun
1692 MANGROVE AVE
APT 379
Chico, Ca 95926
Green Pants Interior by Klahn
Who Am I? by Carl Sandburg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading “Keep Off.”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.
Duty, Beauty, Liberty, Country, Honor, Family, Faith — Plus a few simple easy to follow rules for guys
Men saw the stars at the edge of the sea
They thought great thoughts about liberty
Poets wrote down words that did fit
Writers wrote books
Thinkers thought about it
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
Many’s the road I have walked upon
Many’s the hour between dusk and dawn
Many’s the time
Many’s the mile
I see it all now
Through the eyes of a child
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
And close your eyes
Leave it all for a while
Leave the world
And your worries behind
You will build on whatever is real
And wake up each day
To a new waking dream
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Change, change come over
Change come over
Talkin’ about a change
Change, change
Change come over, now
Change, change, change come over
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
Gerard Van der Leun
Comments on this entry are closed.
I told you you were a Modernist!
Still waiting for Spring here, but happy for those who are getting it.
Our common tastes in poetry always surprise me. cummings is one of my favorites. Many years ago I found several books that were photocopies of his original typescripts. And no, you can’t have them. It’s morning here in North Central Ohio, and cold and overcast. After lunch, I’ll get out my cummings’ typescripts and read him.
PS. When we were younger, the Cincinnati Reds, the oldest baseball franchise, had the privilege of playing the first game of each new season. Somewhere along the line, that tradition got trashed. Even though I am a Red Sox fan (for life), I should like to see that tradition restored.
Love ee cummings as well. I know little of his inspirations and being of a simple mind I do not understand the “goat-footed baloonMan whistles” line. There is menace there, both in imagery and meter. Cloven hoof? Or is it literal: “lame baloonman “? The long time between baloonMan and whistles portends horror. Or is it just me?
And to bob sykes (lower case as a respectful nod to cummings?) and the Cincinnati Reds: Strongly agree to have the Reds play the first game! Red Stockings were worn by Fed Artillerymen in the 1861 war of northern invasion. Likely connection, but I cannot quickly locate a reference.
Apologies for the multiple question marks. Cheers y’all.
Gerard,
Where is the Cincinnati Reds diamond? The photo looks far too new for Crosley Field and certainly not the old Riverfront, or whatever the new stadium is called today. My first decade was near Dayton and my Dad would take me to Reds’ games at Riverfront. Johnny Bench, Pete Rose, Joe Morgan, George Foster…with play-by-play radio personalities Al Michaels (before he hit the big time) and former Reds pitcher, Joe Nuxhall.
Dan, i always thought the goat footed balloon man was a reference to tragedy coming and growing up and mutability. Spring does not last.
I would think, and others agree, that the “goat-footed balloon man” refers to the god Pan, in a strange contemporary guise perhaps, who plays his Pan pipes to signal the sexuality and vitality of Spring. To wit:
=====
Pan (god) – Wikipedia
In ancient Greek religion and mythology, Pan (/pæn/;[1] Ancient Greek: Πάν, Pan) is the god of the wild, shepherds and flocks, nature of mountain wilds, rustic music and impromptus, and companion of the nymphs.[2] He has the hindquarters, legs, and horns of a goat, in the same manner as a faun or satyr. With his homeland in rustic Arcadia, he is also recognized as the god of fields, groves, and wooded glens; because of this, Pan is connected to fertility and the season of spring
Not to beat this apart, but I see the Pan connection albeit thinly. I don’t get vitality, but ominous gloom. What does the “lame” statement in the first stanza, and the temptation of a “baloon” toy from a disfigured man and the associated wariness do for you? “Far and wee”? And why the spelling? This discussion belongs in a classroom and I appreciate the diversion.
Snakepit’s question about the ball field: Looks like spring training in Arizona.
The first sign of spring in Minneapolis is the rapid melting of the snow piles alongside roads and in the corners of parking lots. Some of them, more tenacious than others, can hang on into May. The piles are full of dirt, petroleum residue, sand and trash. All the trash that fell for months, and was buried within the piles by the plows.
It’s ugly. The trees and bushes are still barren, although one can see whisps of green in the grass in places. It can still snow, a lot, for another three or four weeks. But about mid-April, one can notice a haze of green in the trees. Then, a week later, they explode with growth.
It still startles me every year, and I’ve lived here for over 30 years. April 1, gray, brown, black, dead. April 30, the lushness is stunning. The mason bees are working the early blooming bushes (you can tell they’re mason bees by the little white aprons and little red hats). The dairy cows are still kind of happy/feisty back in the fields after being indoors for four months. The roads outstate are full of tractors and implements. And 100 miles north, in the woods, winter is still hanging on, but slowly losing the grip.
The introduction of Pan or the goatfooted one is the elements or emblems or images that keeps this poem from being just a Hallmark Card.
Note his changes from the beginning from “little old” to “queer” to “goat-footed.”
After all, Spring means the return of fructification, of sexuality, of randy romps and dangerous liasons. It’s not all angels wings and babies’ bottoms. Some of this Spring stuff is hot times in the old corn field tonight having sex to symbolically fertilize the crops. Pagan gods blowing pan pipes for children to follow into the fields….
Mr. Patterson,
Reds spring training in Arizona makes sense. Thank you, sir!
Speaking of spring….we got 6″ of snow today and still, all night long I suppose….so we’ll have to wait a little longer. sigh
And yet I had the gall to fire up the grill 3 suppers in a row since Sat in high 50’s temps.
Gold-tressed child in coat of blue
There’s more truth bubbling in you
Then we’ll ever know
Or ever once knew.
Play, play, the sun will wait
Holding back Night in its flight
Holding open Heaven’s gate.