Friday, June 25, 2004

WENDELL BERRY POEMS

In my other journal today I posted about an interview with Wendell Berry that I found in Sojourner Magazine, with, of course, a link to the interview and some quotes from it.  So, here I am going to post a couple of his poems, and cross-reference this entry on the other journal.  This way, there will be a way to see the man in several dimensions.  Missing will be his prose writing, which is also wonderful.  But, you can find that yourself, if you want to.  There are a couple of his books I have been thinking of ordering, as I can't find them anywhere around here.  The interview has galvanized me into action.

Two poems, by writer, poet, farmer, thinker and patriot, Wendell Berry:

WHAT WE NEED IS HERE
       
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.


MANIFESTO:  THE MAD FARMER LIBERATION FRONT
     
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.

And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.

When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.

Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.

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.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.

Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.

As soon as the generals and the 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.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I've been sitting here reading this poem over and over.  How can it be that I, a Kentuckian, have never seen this?
Thank you so much for posting it.

Anonymous said...

That gave me the shivers it's so good.  I think a book store order is coming up.