tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85589424196947363702024-03-08T00:50:55.146-05:00Afterglow: A Poetry Blogaf·ter·glow (noun) \ˈaf-tər-ˌglō\ 1: a glow remaining where a light has disappeared 2: a pleasant effect or feeling that lingers after something is done, experienced, or achievedLauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-76813362283982054462015-01-27T16:44:00.000-05:002015-01-27T16:57:02.623-05:00For Women Who Are Difficult to Love<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm completely captivated by this piece from poet Warsan Shire, "For Women Who Are Difficult to Love". Full text under the photo and video (written and performed by Shire).</div>
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For Women Who Are Difficult to Love</div>
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You are a horse running alone<br />
and he tries to tame you<br />
compares you to an impossible highway<br />
to a burning house<br />
says you are blinding him<br />
that he could never leave you<br />
forget you<br />
want anything but you<br />
you dizzy him, you are unbearable<br />
every woman before or after you<br />
is doused in your name<br />
you fill his mouth<br />
his teeth ache with memory of taste<br />
his body just a long shadow seeking yours<br />
but you are always too intense<br />
frightening in the way you want him<br />
unashamed and sacrificial<br />
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who<br />
lives in your head<br />
and you tried to change didn’t you?</div>
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closed your mouth more<br />
tried to be softer<br />
prettier<br />
less volatile, less awake<br />
but even when sleeping you could feel<br />
him travelling away from you in his dreams<br />
so what did you want to do love<br />
split his head open?<br />
you can’t make homes out of human beings<br />
someone should have already told you that<br />
and if he wants to leave<br />
then let him leave<br />
you are terrifying<br />
and strange and beautiful<br />
something not everyone knows how to love.</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-34187647962655361382015-01-26T07:51:00.000-05:002015-01-26T07:51:34.076-05:00Turkey Photo Album<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Finally (finally!) got all my photos from last summer organized, edited, and uploaded. And it only took me six months, ha ha. This latest album is for my trip into Turkey for the second time, in the summer of 2014 (I also went in 2013). Turkey is just amazing, and I had a blast, as usual! Included here are photos from Izmir, Sirince, Ephesus, Cappadocia, a hot air balloon cruise, and Antalya.</div>
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Link to the public Flickr album, here:</div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/laurentivey/sets/72157650068942269/" target="_blank">https://www.flickr.com/photos/laurentivey/sets/72157650068942269/</a></div>
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Fire her up! Hot Air Ballooning in Cappadocia, Turkey. July, 2014.</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-5255024338687537362015-01-17T19:20:00.000-05:002015-01-17T19:20:35.916-05:00Video Poems<div style="text-align: justify;">
Just found this great site, Moving Poems: The best poetry videos on the web. Check 'em out--there are pages and pages of work by a variety of poets. Here's one below, by Rachel Eliza Griffiths, from the 2011 <i>Mule & Pear</i> (I actually got this from You Tube, as I can't figure out how to post individual vids from Moving Poems):</div>
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Awesome, huh? I've got to get back in there and watch more, once my internet connection speeds up (major issues, of late!). Cheers, Lauren</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-69348197944081799132015-01-09T22:13:00.000-05:002015-01-09T22:13:29.317-05:00Hamlet in Shanghai<div style="text-align: justify;">
I keep forgetting to mention this year's class field trip to Shanghai to see <i>Hamlet</i>. Same as the past two years, when we did <i>King Lea</i>r, and <i>Macbeth</i>, students studied the play for the month before the performance. Characters were drawn, scenes were acted out, film clips were watched, essays were written, and there was much in-depth discussion. The students were so excited to see their first live play, and to travel to Shanghai, and they were not disappointed! TNT Theatre Britain put on a great show, as usual, though they did have to cut some things, as the entire play, acted out from soup to nuts, is over four hours long. Gone was the Fortinbras subplot (understandable for a cut, but still, I was bummed--I think it adds an extra interesting layer to the story). Also, the presentation of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern was fabulously hilarious, and Ophelia's mad scene was stunning. We all enjoyed it so much. Here's a photo of us on the staircase at the Lyceum Theater that night:</div>
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Definitely a fun time, every year, and I'm so glad I can get the kids excited about Shakespeare--indeed, to even READ an entire play! This spring, TNT Theatre Britain is putting on <i>The Merchant of Venice</i>, which I've been teaching every spring semester for the past four years. I'd love to take the kids to that, too, but eh, maybe I'll just go and enjoy that one myself. Yeah, that sounds good. </div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-33649559748204919222015-01-09T21:51:00.001-05:002015-01-09T21:51:50.536-05:00Donation Day<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yesterday, after organizing and boxing up all of the donations to the Orphanage Clothing Drive, the students and myself delivered everything to the Jiangyin Children's Welfare Home. We had a lot of donations (including about 20 brand new winter coats from an anonymous donor!), but were somehow able to stuff it all into ten boxes, and get it loaded and dropped off downtown.</div>
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Imagine our surprise when the local news station showed up to interview us for the nightly news! . Luckily, one of my students was able to act as translator. I haven't seen the broadcast--I don't think I even receive that channel on my TV--but will post it if ever found. </div>
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Anyway, it was a good day. The coordinator of the orphanage was happy (as I'm sure the kids will be), the students were happy, and I'm happy that we could all work together to make even a small difference. Many thanks to all the donors, to Celia Cheung and Xu Hailong for help in coordinating everything, and to my students for all their work! Here are some photos:</div>
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At the Jiangyin Children's Welfare Home with all the donations.</div>
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With my student, Kyara, being interviewed for the nightly news.</div>
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Organizing some of the donations.</div>
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All boxed up and ready to go!</div>
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Our chariot/delivery bus, lol.</div>
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In front of the school before we left to deliver the donations.</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-52650376556577840052014-12-28T19:57:00.000-05:002014-12-28T19:58:56.144-05:00Orphanage Volunteer Program Article<div style="text-align: justify;">
The article on my junior class Orphanage Volunteer Program is now up on the school's website, with student writings about the experience. Also included is information about our December 2014 Orphanage Clothing Drive. We've gotten a LOT of donations, so far, and expect to deliver all the items at the beginning of the new year. I'm so proud of the students, not only for their compassion, but their efforts to make a difference! Here's the link to the article:</div>
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Orphanage Volunteer Program at Nanjing Senior High School:</div>
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<a href="http://www.njschool.cn/Item/5153.aspx" target="_blank">http://www.njschool.cn/Item/5153.aspx</a></div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-65650778371879109502014-12-28T19:44:00.002-05:002015-01-09T21:26:12.220-05:00Morocco Photo Album<div style="text-align: justify;">
Finally getting around to organizing and editing the rest of my travel photos from 2014. I'm trying to finish them all by the end of the year this time. Included in the Morocco album: Essaouira; Marrakech; Fez; Chefchaouen; Tangier; a side trip across the Strait of Gibraltar to Tarifa, Spain; and Casablanca. Also, some photos of the Beat Generation/literary hot spots I hit up in Tangier. And yes, I went on a camel trek. It was just amazing! Here's the link to the photo album: </div>
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Morocoo Flickr Album:</div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/laurentivey/sets/72157647651082563/" target="_blank">https://www.flickr.com/photos/laurentivey/sets/72157647651082563/</a><br />
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Now, on to finish up all the Turkey photos. Wish me luck!</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-53838144917416900752014-10-06T02:04:00.004-04:002014-10-12T02:43:27.907-04:00Neverland<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-hyphenate: auto;">
The eyes always get you, those
faces staring<o:p></o:p></div>
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from supermarket posters, the
missing children<o:p></o:p></div>
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plucked off streets, vanished into
forced labor,<o:p></o:p></div>
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begging gangs, prostitution; some maimed,<o:p></o:p></div>
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some recovered, some gone
forever. Once,<o:p></o:p></div>
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on a train to Shenzhen, a teen
boy, dressed in rags,<o:p></o:p></div>
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one eye, half his chin missing, entered
our carriage,<o:p></o:p></div>
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hushing the chatter, singing like
an angel for coins,<o:p></o:p></div>
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and I mean like Bocelli, or
Pavarotti, our car filled<o:p></o:p></div>
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with ear-melting Italian opera,
rocking and swaying<o:p></o:p></div>
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through the Chinese countryside,
the closest we,<o:p></o:p></div>
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in our economy class hard seats,
would ever get<o:p></o:p></div>
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to La Scala, or the Bolshoi, if
we even knew what<o:p></o:p></div>
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those were, and the boy finished
to utter silence,<o:p></o:p></div>
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our open jaws and wet cheeks,
his good eye<o:p></o:p></div>
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scanning the crowd, and
for one second it rested<o:p></o:p></div>
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on me, this otherworldly eye,
this eye of the stricken<o:p></o:p></div>
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universe, and I am ashamed, but
I looked away, as<o:p></o:p></div>
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did the others, ruffling their
newspapers, pretending<o:p></o:p></div>
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it never happened, in that
uneasy air, before the boy<o:p></o:p></div>
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moved on to the next car and
beyond, to be lost<o:p></o:p></div>
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among the billions. No one
spoke, all of us</div>
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aware of the sticky business of
childhood in Asia,</div>
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knowing that the eye had seared itself
into us;</div>
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an open wound that would fester within for years.<br />
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~ Lauren Tivey</div>
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*This poem originally appeared in the debut issue of <i>The Verse </i>(August, 2013), which is now defunct. Editor Dan Navarrete wrote of the poem, "A call to take action, excellent depiction of the reality surrounding impoverished youth in China. Truly a piece that sinks into our hearts and refuses to let go, just like the imagery". Sorry to say <i>The Verse</i> didn't last, and the website's now gone. I was lucky to find a copy of this, hidden in my email files, as I'd lost the original in the expansion drive crash, and the only other copy was on the website which closed. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-69677082313294107522014-10-05T01:07:00.000-04:002014-10-05T01:07:08.279-04:00Japan Photo Gallery<div style="text-align: justify;">
Finally, I've got my photos from the trip to Japan last August edited and organized. Included in the album: Tokyo (Meiji Shrine, Harajuku and Yoyogi Park, Shibuya Crossong, Love Hotel Hill, Shinjuku, Kamata, Odaiba); Kyoto (Fushimi Inari, Pontocho, Kinkaku-ji, Philosopher's Path, Arashiyama, Sagano Bamboo Forest); and Nara (the bowing deer of Nara and surrounding area). This album's huge--I can't believe I took so many photos! But I fell in love with Japan, which is just amazing and magical in so many ways, Now, on to the Morocco and Turkey albums. You can link to the photo gallery, here: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/laurentivey/sets/72157648327085636/" target="_blank">Japan Flickr Album</a>.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iy44h_DBbtM/VDDGCzQ9SEI/AAAAAAAABRU/Z6jzJgQZfTg/s1600/zzz.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iy44h_DBbtM/VDDGCzQ9SEI/AAAAAAAABRU/Z6jzJgQZfTg/s1600/zzz.JPG" height="428" width="640" /></a></div>
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Fushimi Inari Shrine, Kyoto, Japan</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-29176848211329181592014-10-04T13:46:00.000-04:002014-10-04T23:59:33.110-04:00Check it. Check it again.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dZX9D5Nzcos/VDAx5uNnOPI/AAAAAAAABRE/Ho-nemdQZFg/s1600/69817_4561151863379_1241765944_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dZX9D5Nzcos/VDAx5uNnOPI/AAAAAAAABRE/Ho-nemdQZFg/s1600/69817_4561151863379_1241765944_n.jpg" height="280" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-26693047138249963382014-09-30T00:20:00.001-04:002014-10-04T13:33:33.559-04:00Books Wish ListJust throwing it out to the universe--it wouldn't suck if the following books somehow fell into my lap:<strike><i><b></b></i></strike><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3aKVGTdtjCo/VCocLd8uR1I/AAAAAAAABQI/TkRvL11Nzcw/s1600/Bohemian-Cover-copy-540x816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3aKVGTdtjCo/VCocLd8uR1I/AAAAAAAABQI/TkRvL11Nzcw/s1600/Bohemian-Cover-copy-540x816.jpg" height="640" width="420" /></a></div>
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If ever a book was written just for me, this is it: <i>Rebel Souls: Walt Whitman and America's First Bohemians</i>, by Justin Martin. Great review, here:</div>
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<a href="http://artery.wbur.org/2014/09/04/bohemians-justin-martin" target="_blank">http://artery.wbur.org/2014/09/04/bohemians-justin-martin</a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EPoGZFe8zjk/VCodAVyEs-I/AAAAAAAABQQ/3-QPLY3cg94/s1600/9781567318586_p0_v1_s260x420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EPoGZFe8zjk/VCodAVyEs-I/AAAAAAAABQQ/3-QPLY3cg94/s1600/9781567318586_p0_v1_s260x420.jpg" height="400" width="260" /></a></div>
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STFU & take my money! <i>Ireland's Pirate Queen: The True Story of Grace</i></div>
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<i>O'Malley</i>, by Anne Chambers.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ToMpihiKVKs/VCofKqw8q0I/AAAAAAAABQc/Lto2yvBik6M/s1600/102089804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ToMpihiKVKs/VCofKqw8q0I/AAAAAAAABQc/Lto2yvBik6M/s1600/102089804.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></div>
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Yes, please. <i>Rimbaud: A Biography</i>, by Graham Robb.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o-LKS_1LgFQ/VCof6mJK8eI/AAAAAAAABQk/CKh6vjECnso/s1600/5195NfXD03L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o-LKS_1LgFQ/VCof6mJK8eI/AAAAAAAABQk/CKh6vjECnso/s1600/5195NfXD03L.jpg" height="640" width="425" /></a></div>
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I adore Phyllis Barber. She's on the faculty at my alma mater, Vermont College of Fine Arts, and I was lucky to spend some time with her in a writing residency in Slovenia back in 2007. She's the only other person I know who's also been to Tibet (I was there in 2010). Anyway, I want to read her latest, <i>To the Mountain: One Mormon Woman's Search for Spirit</i>. According to <a href="http://phyllisbarber.squarespace.com/" target="_blank">her website</a>, this is "<span style="background-color: white; color: #323229; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">the story of the author's twenty-year hiatus from Mormonism and her visits with shamans in Peru and Ecuador; Tibetan Buddhist monks in North India and Tibet; a variety of Baptist congregations in Arkansas, Missouri, Utah, and South Carolina; megachurches; charismatic Christian congregations, travels with godddess worshipers in the Yucatan, and much more. The book's purpose is to demonstrate how we can not only tolerate a variety of ideas in the spiritual realm, but can learn from their wisdom." Right up my alley! You can also watch the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gz-irDBI58M" target="_blank">official book trailer</a>.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xa0QLtmrfzQ/VCorgYw4gJI/AAAAAAAABQ0/u2d-kf7gx4o/s1600/702391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xa0QLtmrfzQ/VCorgYw4gJI/AAAAAAAABQ0/u2d-kf7gx4o/s1600/702391.jpg" height="400" width="241" /></a></div>
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This looks interesting, too: <i>Strange Big Moon: The Japan and India Journals: 1960 - 1964</i>, by Joanne Kyger. According to the <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/702391.Strange_Big_Moon" target="_blank">Goodreads synopsis</a>: "<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Hungry to explore Zen and make the discoveries that would shape a lifetime of poetry, Joanne Kyger left for Japan in her twenties and returned four years later ready to carve out a substantial niche in San Francisco's Beat poetry movement. Whether she is studying under Zen teacher Ruth Fuller Sakaki or meeting with the Dalai Lama (who at 27 'lounged on a velvet couch like a gawky adolescent in red robes'), her journals are witty, amusing, and intelligent, in this fascinating look at the art of poetry and portrait of the counterculture abroad." Another, right up my alley.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Finally, a couple of shout-outs to <i>Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead</i>, by Tom Stoppard, and <i>Grendel</i>, by John Gardner, two books I've been trying to read for years. I'm visiting the Foreign Language Bookstore in Shanghai later this week, so let's hope I can find even ONE of the above. If not, I'll see if I can order them online and have them shipped. Anyway, that's what's on my TBR (to-be-read) List at the moment. Cheers, Lauren</span></div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-78045107317548208952014-09-21T17:51:00.001-04:002014-10-04T12:31:32.005-04:00Orphanage Volunteer Program<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gfYmsjPr484/VB9BhovKTmI/AAAAAAAABPg/IFT0tqPkYl4/s1600/IMG_6260.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gfYmsjPr484/VB9BhovKTmI/AAAAAAAABPg/IFT0tqPkYl4/s1600/IMG_6260.JPG" height="497" width="640" /></a></div>
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Yesterday, some students and I began our volunteer program at the local orphanage. This is the first group of students to visit--other students will take part next time. No photos are allowed of the interior, or of the children, but I can assure you that the place is clean, spacious, and well-staffed by caring people. Anyway, our (unofficial) big brother/big sister style program, taking place once per month, introduces high school students to the resident children of the home, about 90% of whom are developmentally and/or physically disabled. Most of the children will never be adopted, and have little contact with the outside world, so my students have graciously agreed to volunteer their time. I saw the joy on the children's faces as the students played with them, fed them, and held them, and saw how deeply the visit affected my students, as well. It's emotional, though (indeed, one of the students broke down as we were leaving), but I think the program is going to be beneficial for all of us. I'd like to visit more often than once a month, but both myself and the students have many other responsibilities to consider--at least this is a good start. I hope the experience inspires my students to continue volunteering, in some capacity, throughout their lives. I'm so proud of them!</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-75617620976702008802014-09-21T17:13:00.001-04:002014-09-21T17:14:10.707-04:00Dancing in the Park<div class="MsoNormal">
Old-timers gather
in the evenings after dinner,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
at a square near
the lotus pond, loudspeakers<o:p></o:p></div>
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spilling
Classical music in the setting sun.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Couples form and
begin twirling and dipping,<o:p></o:p></div>
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women in crisp
skirts and heels, men in blazers,<o:p></o:p></div>
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the shy
wallflowers with glittering eyes, waiting.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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It’s Valentine’s
Day, a first date, that awkward<o:p></o:p></div>
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high school
dance, even the father-daughter<o:p></o:p></div>
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dance you shared
at your first wedding<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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under a sparkling
tent; but you never dance<o:p></o:p></div>
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anymore. Now you watch. Off to the side,<o:p></o:p></div>
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chattering
grandmas are making deals, playing<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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matchmaker,
trading photos of their marriageable<o:p></o:p></div>
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offspring like
baseball cards, while divorced women<o:p></o:p></div>
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frown, lonely and
ignored (this, a traditional city).<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And you consider
stepping to the sidelines, causing<o:p></o:p></div>
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a stir as the
only foreign woman, a divorced one,<o:p></o:p></div>
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at that, but you
don’t, and it grows dark. Couples<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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are leaving hand
in hand, soundmen joking over<o:p></o:p></div>
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cigarettes,
packing up their equipment, as the<o:p></o:p></div>
lotus blooms
begin to wilt in the fading light.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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~ Lauren Tivey</div>
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*Note: 2013 salvaged poem from my expansion drive crash</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-23934658299673788462014-09-18T15:46:00.001-04:002014-09-18T15:49:37.625-04:00Year of the Snake<div class="MsoNormal">
It slithers in,
wet and black in the night,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
bringing its
bombs, guns, knives, wide<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
eye of the
lunatic fringe, encouraging<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the fanatical,
and that’s no joke, no<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
cute astrological
nonsense, now, is it?<o:p></o:p></div>
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This morning rain
is cold, spotting<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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the windows, as I
sit and worry<o:p></o:p></div>
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about loved ones
near and far.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In a good Snake
Year, business<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
deals,
money-making (beware<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
of loopholes),
but a Water Snake<o:p></o:p></div>
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year is the
Satanic abyss, the void<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
of deep space, a
hungry wolf<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
howling in the
Arctic expanse,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
humming on a full
moon nerve.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the blue light
of the television,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am sending
electronic messages<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
of support,
carrying on with both<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
hope and
dread. When it stops raining<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
later today, I
will go out and look at all<o:p></o:p></div>
the flowers of
this mad, gone world.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
~ Lauren Tivey</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
*Note: Salvaged poem from my expansion drive crash. This was written last year, in 2013, which was the Year of the Snake. Currently, we are in the Year of the Horse.</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-51246395915828270722014-09-18T15:40:00.002-04:002014-09-18T15:59:46.011-04:00The Departure<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>for *Hai Zi (1964 – 1989)</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have you gone
into the sunflower,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
young brother of
Van Gogh?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have the ravens
lovingly picked<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
your mangled body
clean?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you laid
your life on the tracks,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
that whistle to
the void, calling, calling,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
was it for the
empty plains of Tibet,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the sea waving
its flags by Fujian?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps the
boyhood fields, lush<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anhui, the
ancestral grass? Land<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
of autumn, or the
stars, the moon?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
: We trace your comet in the sky.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rumors of love’s
neglect, yet I see<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
you upon a beach,
arms flung wide,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>qi</i> of your grin, your child’s love,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
charms, faults,
embracing the All.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That iron bearing
down—your last<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
train out to the
cosmic hinterlands,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the psychedelic
sun, where the coin<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
is poetry, and
all the gods are young. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
~ Lauren Tivey</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b> </b><b> </b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-hyphenate: auto; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none;">
*<i>Hai Zi (Zha Haisheng), a young Chinese poet
who wrote of nature, love, loneliness, and death. He was from a poor family in
Anhui, and went on to study law at Peking University at 15, Later, he taught
Philosophy and other subjects, and devoted much time to writing poetry. He
committed suicide at the age of 25, by lying on the train tracks near
Shanhaiguan. He left behind about 200 poems, and though never published much in
his lifetime, he has become a cult figure in modern Chinese poetry. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>**</i>Note: This is a salvaged poem from my expansion drive crash (written last year). </div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-55880535071023946752014-09-16T17:32:00.000-04:002014-09-21T17:16:43.459-04:00Learning to Play<div style="text-align: justify;">
Digging through my usb files the other day, I was happy to find six poems that weren't lost in the Great Expansion Drive Crash of 2013. Cool! As I mentioned in an earlier post, I'd lost ALL of my work (writing, poetry manuscript, photos, teaching materials, etc.), and didn't think I'd ever recover any--I must've had these five poems in a different place. I don't think I'll submit these anywhere, as I've started over fresh, so I'll post the poems here over the next few days. Anyway...here's the first:</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Learning to Play<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The pale birds of
her hands flutter<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
over the strings
of the guzheng,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
sound of the
lotus, a bamboo forest,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
a peaceful boat
on water. Her fingers,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
born for
porcelain teapots, calligraphy,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
silk, are
plucking out <i>High Mountain<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Flowing Water</i>, are conductors of dark<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
storms, confident
upon the bridge, as in<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Three Variations of Plum Blossom</i>, or<o:p></o:p></div>
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mellowed with
reflection, as in my favorite,<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Song of Fishermen on a Homebound Boat<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>During Sunset</i>, before the happy home port<o:p></o:p></div>
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of its coda. She
places my awkward palms<o:p></o:p></div>
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upon the
rosewood, guiding the unsure<o:p></o:p></div>
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attempt; me, attuned to electric guitars,<o:p></o:p></div>
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heavy drums,
afraid of something<o:p></o:p></div>
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so delicate. I’ve no talent here. Her laughter<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
lifts me though,
like the chiming of bells.<br />
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~ Lauren Tivey<br />
<br />Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-15257991118973928612014-09-15T17:03:00.001-04:002014-10-05T01:17:55.730-04:00Romantique<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I love this line from French poet, Francois Coppee. It translates to "I'll be the poet, and you'll be poetry". French really is the language of love, eh?</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-88146348574570431532014-09-14T05:21:00.000-04:002014-09-14T05:24:10.491-04:00Postcard Poem Project<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now, here's a lovely idea, the Postcard Poem Project. I just joined the other day, wrote my two poems, and will mail them from China this week--one to the U.S. and one to Canada. Hopefully, they'll make it to their destinations (the Chinese postal service has a habit of losing things), and I'll receive two poems in return. How wonderful it'll be to get a handwritten poem in the mail, from someone on the other side of the globe! It'd be cool to connect, so if you're one of the people to receive a poem from me, or one of the senders, and want to stay in touch, look me up--either here or on Facebook--I'm always interested in meeting other poets and writers.</div>
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If you'd like to join the project, you can find the event page on Facebook, here:</div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1398401707051407/" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/events/1398401707051407/</a></div>
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Here's the deal, according to the event page:</div>
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<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">Every few years, we poets who love sending and receiving snail mail engage in an enormous pen pal event called the Postcard Poem Project. Last time, in 2012, we swapped poetry and postcards between over 250 poets from 16 countries on four continents. This time, we're hoping for all seven continents. Here's how it works</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">:</span></div>
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<span class="fsl"><span style="line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">Poets who wish to participate have until Friday, September 19th, 2014 to email their address to the website. On that weekend, they will receive two randomly-picked mailing addresses; they could be from the other side of the world, or just down the street. Poets will buy (or make) two postcards, write a short poem on the back of each (preferably about the pictures on the front of each postcard), and send them to their mailing addresses before the end of September. Easy, right? Come October or November, you will hopefully receive two poems in your mailbox from two complete strangers... poems written just for you!</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">Send an email to <b>postcardpoemproject@gmail.</b></span><b><wbr></wbr><span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"></span></b><span style="line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><b>com</b> that includes your full mailing address, the way you would write it on a postcard yourself. It should look something like this:</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">Your Name</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">Your Street Address</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">The Rest Of Your Address</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">Your Country</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">(People often leave out either their name or their country. Please don't leave out your name or your country. Also, WE DID NOT KEEP ADDRESSES FROM THE LAST ROUND, so please send your address in even if you have before!)</span><span style="line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">You will receive a reply email with all the details and an FAQ section. In the meantime, help make this project grander by passing this event on to any poets you know! Spread the word, and help spread good words in the mailboxes of the world!</span></div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-28404486540526173562014-09-14T04:41:00.000-04:002014-10-04T12:36:00.679-04:00Planes, Trains, and Automobiles<div style="text-align: justify;">
...and balloons, and boats, and camels, and many other means of transport. That's what this summer was about--MOVEMENT. My fiance and I covered so much ground, I think we must've broken some sort of record. Check this out: Shanghai to Istanbul; Istanbul to Izmir; Izmir to Istanbul; Istanbul to Cappadocia; Cappadocia to Antalya; Antalya to Istanbul; Istanbul to Casablanca; Casablanca to Tangier; Tangier to Tarifa, Spain and back (x 2); Tangier to Chefchaouen; Chefchaouen to Fez; Fez to Marrakech; Marrakech to Essaouira; Essaouira to Casablanca; Casablanca to Istanbul; Istanbul to Shanghai; Shanghai to Tokyo; Tokyo to Kyoto; Kyoto to Osaka; Osaka to Shanghai. Whew! We did all that in less than two months! Talk about covering some ground, eh? And, all this in-and-out of Istanbul tells me something: The city's strategic location may be a factor in future employment considerations (but that's a topic for another day).</div>
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In spite of all the movement this summer (or, perhaps <i>because</i> of it), my creative juices were flowing, and I was able to take many incredible photos, and I also came back with a poetry notebook full of drafts. At each turn, something or other sparked my imagination, and that, I believe, is another reward of travel. Gerry and I saw and experienced some amazing things--some highlights were: Feasting on the culinary delights in Istanbul; the little mountain village of Sirince, Turkey; an anti-government protest that turned violent in Izmir; Ephesus; a sunrise cruise over Cappadocia in a hot air balloon; sailing the waters off Antalya in a schooner, plus the Umbrella Street, and the International Sand Sculpture Festival; train journeys through Morocco; wandering the medina on the trail of Beat writers in Tangier; the ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar to Spain; the Blue City of Chefchaouen; the ancient leather tanneries of Fez; the wild main square of Marrakech; a camel trek down the beach of Essaouira; Tokyo's Harajuku district; a Japanese love hotel stay; the Fushimi Inari Shrine in Kyoto; and the bowing deer of Nara, Japan. The whole summer was a dream! The Flickr albums are going to take a long time to upload and organize, but I'll post the links once I finish. In the meantime, here are some photos and videos:</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lQ38kLP8KKc/VBU5CdlprCI/AAAAAAAABJs/JXAO0dHTryE/s1600/10441410_10202262602623012_6036736393190756777_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lQ38kLP8KKc/VBU5CdlprCI/AAAAAAAABJs/JXAO0dHTryE/s1600/10441410_10202262602623012_6036736393190756777_n.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Charming Sirince Village, nestled in the mountains, and surrounded by vineyards, orange groves, and peach orchards. Sirince is famous for its wine--we even stayed in the "Dionysos Pension".</div>
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Taking a break at Ephesus, in my trusty red kicks.</div>
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VIDEO: Sunrise cruise over Cappadocia in a hot air balloon. Absolutely fantastic! A must do!</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l9gr7mWUhzs/VBU8kAlUa1I/AAAAAAAABKA/nTpIBL1_iJ8/s1600/10518702_10202278143211517_8938055807975445073_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l9gr7mWUhzs/VBU8kAlUa1I/AAAAAAAABKA/nTpIBL1_iJ8/s1600/10518702_10202278143211517_8938055807975445073_n.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Deflating the balloon after the cruise.</div>
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Pretty Antalya Harbor, home of sailors, pirates, and salty dogs!</div>
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Beautiful skies over Tangier</div>
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One of the locals, Tangier</div>
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Cafe Tingis, Burroughs' old haunt in the Petit Socco. Spent a couple of afternoons sipping coffee here, watching the world go by. I also visited the Librarie des Colonnes, an expat bookstore, and scored a copy of <i>Naked Lunch</i>. Found Hotel el Muniria, too, where he wrote the famous novel.</div>
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Southernmost tip of Europe, in Tarifa, Spain, taken after crossing the Strait of Gibraltar from Tangier.</div>
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Blue doors of Chefchaouen</div>
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Bohemian wanderings, Chefchaouen</div>
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VIDEO: Early morning through the streets of Chefchaouen</div>
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VIDEO: Chefchaouen waking up for the day</div>
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Light filtering through the streets of Chefchaouen</div>
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Ancient tanneries of Fez</div>
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VIDEO: Jemaa El Fnaa, main square of Marrakech. Gets downright WILD here at night, with organ grinders, snake charmers, henna artists, acrobats, musicians, even hypnotists!</div>
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Camel trek along the beach in Essaouira, a funky little town made famous by a visit from Jimi Hendrix back in the day.</div>
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VIDEO: Camel ride on a windy beach!</div>
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VIDEO: Gorgeous Essaouira Harbor</div>
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Moroccan train travel, premiere classe</div>
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Somewhere over Tunisia, waxing moon to the left</div>
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Istanbul, we meet again! </div>
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And on to Japan. This is the insane Tokyo subway map. God help you.</div>
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Helloooooo Kitty, ha ha. Tokyo.</div>
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Pachinko parlor in Kamata.</div>
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Tokyo: Anime Capitol of the Universe</div>
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Murakamiland. Got my copy of his latest work in this Shinjuku bookstore.</div>
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Our wish, added to the sacred camphor tree at Meiji Shrine. Shinto priests will collect and pray over all the plaques--there were hundreds of thousands of them.</div>
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VIDEO: Shibuya Crossing, busiest pedestrian crossing in the world. You may remember a scene of this in the film, <i>Lost in Translation</i>.</div>
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Bullet train, Tokyo to Kyoto. Just like teleportation, baby!</div>
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Umbrella lights in the alleys of Pontocho, Kyoto</div>
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Fire eater in Pontocho, Kyoto</div>
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Cutenss! Pontocho, Kyoto</div>
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Sun setting through the torii gates at Fushimi Inari Shrine in Kyoto. After dark, lanterns come on, adding a whole other layer of magic to the place. </div>
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VIDEO: Fushimi Inari casts its spell. Torii gates, babbling brooks, moss-covered stones, trilling birds, and kitsune (fox messenger) statues at dusk.</div>
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Bamboo Forest, Arashiyama (just outside Kyoto).</div>
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Curious little guy! One of the bowing deer of Nara, Japan.</div>
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So sweet. The residents of Nara adore the deer, which are allowed to wander at will, into shops, restaurants, etc. They are well-cared for and well-fed.</div>
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VIDEO: The bowing deer of Nara, Japan. Native sika deer, considered to be the messengers of Shinto gods, have been frequenting this park for the last thousand years or so. They're protected, and much loved by locals and visitors alike. Somewhere along the way, they learned to bow for their food. We spent an amazing day with them!</div>
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Well, sorry for such a long post. There were so many other things that happened along the way, so many other places visited, so many new friends made (both two-legged and four-legged!), but there's no way to relay all of these experiences here. I know I'll be busy for months, editing and organizing photos, revising poems, and just processing everything. I'm so grateful for these opportunities to travel, for what my life has become, and yes, I'm still completely in love with the world. Cheers, Lauren.</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-73860782098577597152014-09-14T02:07:00.000-04:002014-09-18T15:58:30.785-04:00Back to School<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ah, it's been a wonderful summer full of travel and adventure, but now I'm back to school for the fall semester. It's already been a couple of weeks since the term began, but it's taken a bit to get my bearings. It seems, so far, to be shaping up as a good semester. I've got a new class full of eager, bright-eyed students, my awesome second-year students, and even a new course to teach on top of my AP English classes--Public Speaking. This new class is already fun, and I look forward to getting my students prepped for all the public speaking they'll have to do in their lives.<br />
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I'm also doing another Shakespeare play this year (<i>Hamlet</i>. Yay! My fave!), and organizing the annual trip to Shanghai to see a live show. We'll do another poetry slam in the spring, too. One other thing I've organized this year is a monthly student visit to the local orphanage, where most of the resident kids are developmentally disabled, and few, if any, will ever be adopted. There are about 54 kids at the home. I went down there to visit a couple of weeks ago, and thought it would also be a good volunteer opportunity for my students--they'll go on a Sunday morning, read to the kids, and play with them.<br />
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I'm so happy to be working with high school students--I know it's not for everyone, but I really enjoy teenagers, and watching them grow intellectually. Anyway, here's to a great school year!</div>
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<br />Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-11864800928396454582014-09-13T22:52:00.001-04:002014-10-05T01:18:17.153-04:00Murakami on a Sunday Afternoon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Quote from Haruki Murakami's magnum opus, <i>1Q84</i>. I read this mind-blowing work last winter. Murakami's one of my favorite authors, and I was happy to buy an English translation of his latest, <i>Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage</i> IN Japan this summer, from a bookstore in the Shinjuku district of Tokyo, It was kinda cool to wander around a lot of the neighborhoods and subway stations that appear in his novels, too. Anyway, glad for the Sunday lazing time in order to get caught up on some things, including the blog! </div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-22307622122007265112014-07-02T13:22:00.000-04:002014-07-02T13:23:06.950-04:00Poem in The Coachella Review<div style="text-align: justify;">
My poem, <a href="http://thecoachellareview.com/wordpress/?page_id=618" target="_blank">"Outsiders"</a>, appears in the Summer, 2014 issue of The Coachella Review (link below). I feel lucky to be included with some great writers--be sure to also check out Diane Lefer's fiction piece, "Our Lady of the Mineshaft", which takes place in Bolivia. Many thanks to the editors for the inclusion!</div>
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The Coachella Review, Summer 2014:</div>
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<a href="http://thecoachellareview.com/wordpress/?page_id=162">http://thecoachellareview.com/wordpress/?page_id=162</a></div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-61847944672560905552014-06-22T06:22:00.000-04:002014-06-22T06:24:04.558-04:00Update, Rome Photo Album<div style="text-align: justify;">
Wow, am I behind in my blogging, or what?!? I've been so busy with end-of-semester stuff, that everything else has taken a backseat. With final exams, grading research papers, attending meetings, upgrading syllabi, helping students prep for university interviews, filing reports, etc., there's been a lot of stress to finish everything before I leave on June 30th! But, damn...I mean, I even missed a memorial post in honor of Maya Angelou's passing on May 28th, and she was one of my favorite poets (R.I.P. Maya Angelou).</div>
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Well, another week, and I'm off again--back to Turkey, then on to Morocco, and finally, Japan, before heading back to China at the end of August. An epic summer in the works, for sure! Hopefully, I can get some more writing done over the summer, and when I get back. Which reminds me...where is The Coachella Review's latest issue, I wonder? They accepted one of my pieces to appear in the Spring, 2014 issue, but that issue never materialized. They're still active, so perhaps its been postponed to a summer issue? At any rate, I've no time to worry about it now--just keeping fingers crossed it comes out soon.</div>
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One more thing: here's the latest photo album I managed to finish, from the Rome trip last year. Yes, I FINALLY finished organizing and uploading pictures! If you're interested, you can view the public photo set on Flickr, at the link below:</div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/laurentivey/sets/72157645285292612/">Rome Photo Set on Flickr</a></div>
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That's it for now. Maybe I'll get a chance to update from the road--we'll see. Have a GREAT summer, and I'll see you on the other side!<br />
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Cheers, Lauren<br />
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-53737114155493226292014-05-11T19:07:00.000-04:002014-10-04T12:39:09.841-04:00Unleashed Imagination<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DP2DzzMKwkk/U3ACCq0uiHI/AAAAAAAABJA/suOOmsxpLL4/s1600/10298878_537841082994013_6133408775237784516_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DP2DzzMKwkk/U3ACCq0uiHI/AAAAAAAABJA/suOOmsxpLL4/s1600/10298878_537841082994013_6133408775237784516_n.jpg" height="640" width="504" /></a></div>
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Unleashed Imagination, by Enkel Dika.</div>
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More artwork, <a href="http://abduzeedo.com/stunning-illustrations-enkel-dika">here</a>.</div>
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Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558942419694736370.post-81073470488173171032014-05-11T00:57:00.001-04:002014-05-11T19:12:19.423-04:00Chinese Pastoral<div style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333;">Once in awhile, I get lucky:</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;">After losing ALL of my unpublished work in The Great Expansion Drive Crash of 2013, I thought I'd go and at least copy my published work off the internet, to help get my bearings and start rebuilding my portfolio. Unfortunately, a couple of the literary journal websites had closed, leaving no archives behind, and that published work was lost forever. I understand, though--I know that editing a literary journal is tough and often thankless work, and being an editor is not something I could ever do. Sites close down all the time. I've seen journals pop up and then disappear within a month, even. It's not a business for the faint of heart, for sure.</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #333333;">Anyway, the editor of one of the longer-standing journals, the respected <i>Hobble Creek Review</i>, made the decision to close its doors recently, as well. <i>HCR</i> held the only copy of my poem, "Chinese Pastoral", but I didn't get to it in time before the site went dark. My expansion drive crash had wiped out all my written work--now, the site with the only copy of the poem was closed, as well (ouch!). But, it's not the editor's job to make sure writers have copies, or to keep archives active, or even to notify writers a site is closing, so I just resigned myself to the fact that the poem was gone. That's why I was so surprised when <i>HCR</i> editor Justin Evans was able to retrieve it, and I'm so grateful to him for going out of his way to get it to me.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;">A spot of good luck! Who'd have thought, after all that? </span><span style="color: #333333;">I'm posting the poem here, which originally appeared in the July, 2012 issue of </span><i style="color: #333333;">HCR. </i><span style="color: #333333;">I'd also like to thank Justin and wish him the best in his future endeavors--I'll certainly miss <i>HCR</i>.</span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 14.0pt;">Chinese
Pastoral <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;"><b>(<i>a trptych</i>)</b><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<i style="color: #333333;">i. Guangxi</i></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;">Long-haired Zhuang women are
singing,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">clapping, stomping feet to the
drumbeat</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">in the wooden village house,
bells</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">of their silver headdresses,
chiming.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;">Stopping, they raise hands in
unison,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">driving it up, past the
corn-draped rafters,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">up, into the hoary skies, their
spells</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">cast far, to the fickle ears of
harvest gods.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;">Their men don't interfere, but
watch<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">and smoke, as brown as the rice
terraces</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">ribboning the hills, weathered,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">as the dormant fields of dragonfruit.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;">The drum sounds again; again the
women<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">pound the boards, their
wool-wrapped legs</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">jumping, voices ringing over all
of Guangxi,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">as they conjure the planting
season into being.</span><br />
<i style="color: #333333;"><br /></i>
<i style="color: #333333;">ii. Jiangsu</i></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;">Aromatic
tea fields sparkle in neat rows.</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">Women in
straw hats bend in a ballet, spry</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">as the
bushes they scratch around, the happy</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">animals of
their bodies, moving in sunshine.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;">Beans twist
up bamboo stakes, the pinch<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">of manure
and soil baking in the nostrils,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">play of
tomatoes, herbs, and birdsong,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">names of
every plant on the tongue.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;">Tractors
rumble by, and whistling men<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">with
shovels, who stop to urinate</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">in the
woods. Often, a violent burst</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">of
afternoon clouds, rain tamping dust.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;">They laugh during tea breaks. </span><span style="color: #333333;">They work</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">long and hard. They work </span><span style="color: #333333;">long and hard.</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">Their young have left for the cities, </span><span style="color: #333333;">forgetting</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">the songs, the land, but sending money.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;"><i>iii.
Sichuan</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;">Before
leaving for the upper pastures,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">the women
are tossing flour to the wind,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">toasting
skies with strong barley beer,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">chanting prayers,
singing for the crops.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;">Men are
readying the mills, fixing carts,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">slapping
backs, and singing their own</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">kinds of
songs. The mules stamp</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">and snort,
game for their bundles.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;">Husbands
and wives bicker, shoot</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">glances and
mutter curses, their hands</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">raw with
work, a cruel sun pushing them</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">to move fast.
All day, the loads roll in.</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #333333;">Tomorrow,
the next day, and the next;</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">these
shining meadows of sunrise,</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">awaiting
the songs, the caress of hands</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;">in the
soil, with all the loyalty of a lover.</span></div>
<br />Lauren Tiveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18288758573831597625noreply@blogger.com0