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Ode To
Nature
I don’t want
to die for you
But you can die for me,
I won’t wonder where you are
You’ll always be there for me.
I do strip you
naked
Your beauty now my clothes,
I burn you keeping myself warm
While winds do keep you cold.
After I am gone
What makes you think I’d care,
When you struggle to survive
I will not be there.
I do use you - take
your beauty
Use you all for me -
I don’t want to die for you
But you can die for me.
Alexandra D.
Gnoske
1988
EVENTS
• Third Annual Wacky Pants Day
(Wed. 11-11-98): This is nothing
more than an excuse for this author to wear a somewhat
shocking pair of bright red pants. Most likely, this
festive day will quickly fade away when the guy with the
pants graduates. Still, in the meantime, any excuse to
mix it up. Oh, and by the way, "I don’t have any
wacky pants" is a nonsensical remark in a city with more
thrift stores than Starbucks joints. Join the revelry,
wear (wacky) pants!
·
Yoga: It’s hardly a
stretch to say that yoga is poetry. Not only does it
relax, it can give the student liberating moments of
physical bliss and mental emptiness. Now, don’t
confuse emptiness with air-headedness. I’d explain,
but Zen Buddhist theory is beyond the scope of this
two-bit operation. Practicing yoga can be an easy and
simple
joy.
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Yoga Space, 2536 SE
Ankeny, Portland OR, (503) 236-7188 •
Classes throughout the week. Especially try
Susanna’s 6:45pm Sunday all-levels class,
which is on a donation basis!
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Poetry
Readings: These days it’s
a bit out of style to suddenly start break-dancing in
public places. Similarly it is out of style to spend an
evening anywhere other than at a bar drinking and
whiling the time away. It would be silly for me to
persuade you, since your social life is quite rightly
your own. So then, why not consider it a primal duty?
Take your friends to a reading. Mark your calendar
today.
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Cafe Lena, 2239 SE
Hawthorne Blvd., Portland, OR, (503) 238-7087
• Every Tuesday at a cozy space in
southeast Portland with food, drinks, and a
smoke-free environment. Arrive at 8:30 p.m. to
sign up, 9:00 p.m. to hear poetry. •
Next event: 11/3/98
In Other Words Bookstore, 3734 SE
Hawthorne Blvd., Portland, OR, (503) 232-6003
• Last Friday of every month; arrive at
8:30 p.m. to sign up, 9:00 p.m. to hear poetry.
These are WOMEN-only readings! Guys are welcome
to cheer along in the audience. Next event:
11-27-98
Berbatis’ Pan, 231 SW Ankeny,
Portland, OR, (503) 248-4579 Very dark and
smoky. Poets read from a stage. Last Wednesday
of every month. Arrive at 7:30 p.m. to sign up,
8:30 p.m. to hear poetry. Next event:
11-25-98
Watzek Library, William Stafford Room
dedication for former Oregon poet laureate and
L&C Prof. Nov. 19 at 4:30 pm, on the
bottom floor of Watzek in the art section. Mens'
movement icon Robert Bly will be in attendance.
For more information on Mr. Stafford see
http://www.newsfromnowhere.com/sacredblur.html
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Holding this gazette in your hand right now, you should
be inquiring: "what am I doing here with finals looming,
reading this light fare from cover to cover?" Or better
yet: "how can I afford even a spare moment to flip to
the back and read the Poetry Notes column?" Your
lives are harried, and you turn to us for comfort and
solace. Ah, sojourner, no need to shove; there’s
plenty for all.
So far, no poetry. What gives? Besides the incessant
rhetorical questions and grandiose verbiage, there seems
to be little here for you. But for those who enjoy riding
the bus on Tri-Met, our local public transit system, the
title above may have you nodding.
Nodding off to sleep? Here, use this space to rouse
yourself...
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You see, Poetry in Motion ("PiM" to us law types) is
much more than a trite phrase uttered in life, quite
inconsequentially. PiM is also a program of urban
reinvigoration, compliments of our friends on the loony
liberal left. Frankly, who else would come up with the
idea to plaster poems on city buses and subway cars in
New York City? Certainly not Jesse Helms.
In the past few years, Portland has bit the bug, so we
too may enjoy short poems tastefully displayed up in the
little ad holders, in place of the standard raucous
commercial notices.
This is all good and well, but it wouldn’t be
fair if the only admonition here was for you to go
searching city buses for your kernel of hope, your sip of
panacea, your ________________ [be creative, ad lib a
cliché!].
Rather, let there be Free Choice. What follows is
a selection of ways to express your creativity, to put
some poetry in your daily motions. To ensure that this
text follows the rigorous guidelines for long, boring
essays, I have put all scheduling details below and offer
short wry remarks for your enjoyment, and dare I say . .
. enlightenment.
Your Poem
Here!
Submit your
poetry.
email: paisner@lclark.edu
And now (drumroll please), the LAST
question I will ask this month...
Why bother
submitting?
Occupation
most often rated "excellent lovers" by their
wives:
Artists!
Source:
Portland Oregonian
"Edge" Column
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Westwind
There once was an
eden named Westwind,
To its shores NEDC was destined.
We jumped in the car
And drove real far
Heading in the coastal direction.
We arrived at the
ramp around five,
Finally feeling alive;
We crossed the river
Then, with nary a shiver,
Naked into the Pacific we did dive.
In the cabins with
wood floors
We warmed ourselves with the hoards;
In the woods some went
And pitched their tent
To avoid a night filled with snores.
In the morning the
fog rolled in
While some of us campers slept in;
When we crawled out of bed
There was sand on our head,
And everywhere else at Camp Westwind.
With Brent we hiked
a steep trail,
And from a headland caught glimpse of a whale;
Native species we did learn,
Sitka spruce and sword fern,
Then "Look!" someone yelled, "A red tail!"
On Sunday, to work
and school most did run,
But driving for hours wasn't our idea of fun;
So we bid our friends adieu,
Then jumped in the yellow canoe
And paddled back toward the beach, surf and
sun.
We'll always
remember the nighttime bonfire,
And the singing, beer and smoke of which we ne'er did
tire.
Alexandra West
and Jeff Strang
10/98
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