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A Barred Owl by Richard Wilbur

I did this recording not too long ago. Recently I’ve been enjoying his poetry. So may Richard Wilbur rest in peace.

The Monkey Prodigy

Please take a moment to relax, close your eyes, and listen to a reading of a fine poem. Okay, you don’t have to close your eyes.

A Barred Owl

By Richard Wilbur

The warping night air having brought the boom
Of an owl’s voice into her darkened room,
We tell the wakened child that all she heard
Was an odd question from a forest bird,
Asking of us, if rightly listened to,
“Who cooks for you?” and then “Who cooks for you?”

Words, which can make our terrors bravely clear,
Can also thus domesticate a fear,
And send a small child back to sleep at night
Not listening for the sound of stealthy flight
Or dreaming of some small thing in a claw
Borne up to some dark branch and eaten raw.

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Ode to The Republic by Tony Hoagland

click here for to read a different version as published in New Ohio Review.

The version I read was as published in Tony’s collection Application for Release From the Dream published by Graywolf Press. You can buy an ebook via Amazon and Google Play Books. Or check for it at a local or independent book store.

A Barred Owl by Richard Wilbur

Please take a moment to relax, close your eyes, and listen to a reading of a fine poem. Okay, you don’t have to close your eyes.

A Barred Owl

By Richard Wilbur

The warping night air having brought the boom
Of an owl’s voice into her darkened room,
We tell the wakened child that all she heard
Was an odd question from a forest bird,
Asking of us, if rightly listened to,
“Who cooks for you?” and then “Who cooks for you?”

Words, which can make our terrors bravely clear,
Can also thus domesticate a fear,
And send a small child back to sleep at night
Not listening for the sound of stealthy flight
Or dreaming of some small thing in a claw
Borne up to some dark branch and eaten raw.

A Saturday Song

There hasn’t been a Tuesday Tune on my blog for awhile. Or any tunes. But I’d like to post this one that makes me feel slightly better. Hence the phrase feel good song. I relate psychologically to the issues discussed in the song and have come back to it tonight. And since I came back to it you should come to it too. Baby don’t be cruel. . . to yourself

The Monkey Prodigy

Yes, it’s not a Tuesday Tune and as of the time I’m writing this it is not Saturday yet. But I figured I’d post something anyway. I usually try to post feel good songs on the blog. So let me know how you feel. Hopefully it’s good.

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Where the Pickle Confuses, Celebrating Shel Silverstein

David J. Bauman

From my collection. From my collection.

I have been rearranging the living room, and in the process of organizing the shelves discovered that I seem to be missing a few books by birthday boy, Shel Silverstein. Hopefully, they are at my boys’ house.  You may not be aware that Lafcadio, the Lion Who Shot Back, was his first children’s story, published in 1963. It was a gift to me after my coming out, from a dear and intimate friend, a reminder that others, on all sides of the sexuality spectrum, would try to shape me into what they saw me as, an identity created by them to match their own stories. I think he wanted me to be aware of the danger, and to encourage me to continue to be brave, to write my own character, my own story, my own life.

Despite the enormous influence he’s had in our family’s reading…

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Friday Love Poem

Happy birthday Shel Silverstein.

The Monkey Prodigy

My father does these on Thursdays, but I want to do it Friday at eleven o’clock at night. This poem is technically a love poem. It is a poem about love. In fact it’s right there in the title.

I plan on doing a few more recordings of other peoples’ poetry, and maybe of mine.I am working on a few different projects right now. I might even be published again in a literary journal which I will not name. Anyway, have a nice day.

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