POETREE

Romantic intimacy is a tricky subject. It's hard to even agree on what it means. Is it sexual? Emotional? Platonic? Can it be all three at once?

( Nikki Giovanni might say so. )

I would tend to agree with Giovanni. Of course, as an asexual person I have a stake in declaring that romantic and sexual intimacy are not the same thing, and that it is possible to be emotionally and romantically intimate without adding sexual intimacy into the mix. Still, sexual intimacy need not be absent; I would simply argue that it is the most shallow of the layers of intimacy.

( I think Judith Viorst would say the same. )

There's another note at the end of True Love that struck me: "Despite cigarette cough, tooth decay, acid indigestion, dandruff, and other features of married life that tend to dampen the fires of passion..." Years and age may remove sexual passion from the relationship, assuming it was there in the first place. What does that do to intimacy? I think you can guess my answer: nothing.

( Adrienne Rich might agree with me. )

Samhain (pronounced SOW-in-- I know, look, it's Celtic) is one of four major Sabbats on the Wiccan wheel of the year. It marks the turning of the year from light to dark, the shift into the autumn and winter months of rest. Generally it takes place on the 31st at sundown, but it can also be celebrated on November 1st. On Samhain, the veil between this world and the next is thin, and the dead pass through on their way to the Summerlands. It's also the Wiccan New Year, which is the way I primarily celebrate it.

Samhain has its roots in a Celtic celebration, and many of its current symbols come from those ancient roots. The word literally means "summer's end." Like its opposite celebration, Beltane, Samhain celebrations involved bonfires and feasts, aimed at honoring the dead rather than Beltaine's celebration of life. Sometimes people would walk between two bonfires in a ritual cleansing that some Wiccans still practice today. It's a celebration of the close of the year, a time to honor the dead and what has passed before reaching into the new world.

Samhain poetry tends toward ritual chants, which can be highly personal, and poetry, words written for the dead, in contemplation of the dark. I've included a selection below: I hope that you enjoy them!

A Samhain celebration chant. This is not one I personally use, as it's aimed more at group practices. The focus on the fire and the turn of the year is, however, typical of Wiccan celebrations.

Samhain, Full Moon, Ardath Mayhar. This is a wonderfully creepy poem about the wandering dead, passing through on their way to the Summerlands. It's a more traditional reading of Samhain, going back to the Celtic festival rather than modern celebrations.

Samhain, by Annie Finch. I love this poem. It reaches into the past, into the long history that Samhain celebrates, and portrays the dead as warm and living memories.

Poem in October, Dylan Thomas. This one isn't strictly a Samhain poem, but Thomas captures so perfectly the spirit of the holiday that I couldn't resist it.

Thank you for your time; I hope you have enjoyed the poems.

Cowboy poetry did not stop when the west was declared a closed frontier. Cowboys still ride and work today, and though they no longer are so isolated as they once were, they still spend much of their time in each other's company. Cowboy poetry, usually recited or otherwise performed, is a thriving genre, with a vast and appreciative community, though it is concentrated largely and unsurprisingly in the western United States. There is even an annual Cowboy Poetry Week, which I have missed by two weeks, but so it goes.

Unfortunately, I was unable to get permission to post any contemporary poems to this community. I was, however, able to get permission to link you to one, so if you don't mind, click on over here to read one of my favorite contemporary cowboy poems, "Old Sorrel Mare Turning More and More Roan" by Paul Zarzyski. I'll wait here.

Back? Okay.

Mr. Zarzyski was actually my first introduction to cowboy poetry, with his book Wolf Tracks on the Welcome Mat. Obviously, he doesn't write traditional cowboy poetry: Old Sorrel Mare does not have a distinct rhythm or a lyrical setup. It does deal with cowboy life, specifically the horse, and contemporary ranching at its most basic: feeding and caring for an old horse who can no longer do the work but is still deserving of love and respect. In that sense, it is much like No Rest for the Horse, narrating a day in the life of the poet, and meditating on horses as partners, almost family.

Most importantly, at least in my mind, Old Sorrel Mare is meant to be performed.

Mr. Zarzyski came to my freshman-year class on road stories to discuss his poetry, and to read a few of them. Old Sorrel Mare was one of the poems he read, and it remained in my head for a long time afterwards, reverberating in his voice. Read it aloud yourself, and hear the stops and starts. It doesn't have a song's rhythm, but there's a beat all its own in there.

Do you agree with me that this is cowboy poetry, for reasons beyond the fact that Mr. Zarzyski is a cowboy himself? If you were to write your own cowboy poem, would you keep the traditional rhythms, or move to more contemporary styles?

I highly suggest reading more of Mr. Zarzyski's poems, incidentally: I had a really, really hard time choosing just one to share.