Synopsis
Rod Jellema has been writing and publishing poems for over thirty years. His work during that time has been described as “bursting with raw poetic talent.”
In this beautifully shaped compilation, readers will find the best poems from Jellema’s four previous collections along with a new grouping of poems appropriately titled “Still…”. Though ranging widely in subject, these poems are all united by Jellema’s point of view and his ability to explore, with both pathos and comedy, “the stabs of joy that leap from deep inside a fallen world of redeemed, incarnate things.”
In this beautifully shaped compilation, readers will find the best poems from Jellema’s four previous collections along with a new grouping of poems appropriately titled “Still…”. Though ranging widely in subject, these poems are all united by Jellema’s point of view and his ability to explore, with both pathos and comedy, “the stabs of joy that leap from deep inside a fallen world of redeemed, incarnate things.”
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
INCARNALITY
The Collected PoemsBy Rod JellemaWilliam B. Eerdmans Publishing Company
Copyright © 2010 Rod JellemaAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8028-2749-4
Contents
Preface: A Book of Poems in Search of a Title................................................................................xvDouble Vision................................................................................................................xviiiWatch for Deer Crossing......................................................................................................3Mrs. Van Den Bosch...........................................................................................................4On Vacation, Teaching Bass...................................................................................................5Poem Beginning with a Line Memorized at School...............................................................................7Sisters, Daughters...........................................................................................................8Seeing Pictures at the Elementary School.....................................................................................9Because I Never Learned the Names of Flowers.................................................................................10Industrial Park..............................................................................................................11Davey Falling................................................................................................................12Four-Square Gospel...........................................................................................................13Walk the Edge................................................................................................................14Letter from Home.............................................................................................................1622nd Street, Holland, Michigan...............................................................................................19Sidewalk Snowplows: Holland, Michigan, in 1940...............................................................................20Head Down....................................................................................................................21Second Commandment...........................................................................................................22Conduction...................................................................................................................23Missing Sleep................................................................................................................24X............................................................................................................................25Before He Heard of Hamelin...................................................................................................26Overheard about Mr. Bunting..................................................................................................28Coming Back Down to Hamelin..................................................................................................29Windy Night in Hamelin.......................................................................................................30The Notes He Left............................................................................................................31The Hamelin Epilogue.........................................................................................................32Chickens.....................................................................................................................34Potatoes.....................................................................................................................35Early Coffee.................................................................................................................36Wanting Supper...............................................................................................................37Lovers' Quarrel..............................................................................................................38A Gruntled Poem for Greeting a Feckfull and Wieldy Day.......................................................................39The Shore of the Sky.........................................................................................................40Early Morning Exercise, Lake Michigan........................................................................................41Fresh Fruit for Breakfast....................................................................................................42The Work of Our Hands........................................................................................................43Heading In...................................................................................................................44Going to Work at Yaddo.......................................................................................................45Touching It..................................................................................................................46Fishing over Shipwrecks, I Catch the Word Spectral...........................................................................48Report from Near the End of Time and Matter..................................................................................49Cutting Paper with Matisse...................................................................................................50Hibernation..................................................................................................................51Ancient Instruments..........................................................................................................52First Climb Up Three Surfers' Peak...........................................................................................53From Trout Run: A Poem in Seven Movements....................................................................................57Application..................................................................................................................58Two Sleepless Men............................................................................................................60After Looking Long at His Pictures of the Civil War ... I Dream of Zimmer....................................................61A Word in the Glare..........................................................................................................62Dawn Train through Valparaiso................................................................................................63Crab Cactus..................................................................................................................65Wire Triangulations..........................................................................................................66Letter to Myra Sklarew ......................................................................................................67Letter from Friesland to My Sons.............................................................................................69A Double Contention against the Scriptures...................................................................................71Flieger's Barn...............................................................................................................72To the Man in Room 321.......................................................................................................73The Weather Is Always Good...................................................................................................74Just Breathe.................................................................................................................75White on White...............................................................................................................76Meditation on Coming Out of a Matinee........................................................................................77The Self Trying to Leave the Body That It Is.................................................................................78On Edge......................................................................................................................79On Course....................................................................................................................80Junior High..................................................................................................................82Lake Michigan Sand Cherries..................................................................................................83Skating It Off...............................................................................................................84Ways to Measure..............................................................................................................85Ghazal: Some Aches Are Good..................................................................................................86Waving.......................................................................................................................87Reconciliation...............................................................................................................88I. Fifteen Poems from Friesland..............................................................................................91Experiments (Sjoerd Spanninga)...............................................................................................91Stanzas for My Son (Douwe A. Tamminga).......................................................................................2Two Miniatures: Windmill, Prayer (Douwe A. Tamminga).........................................................................3Images of a Summer Evening (J.B. Schepers)...................................................................................4Midsummer (Jelle H. Brower)..................................................................................................5Song of Songs (Tsjbbe Hettinga).............................................................................................6From In the Enchantment of the Depth between Light and Light, stanza 3 (Tsjbbe Hettinga)....................................97The Kite (Geart Van Der Zwaag)...............................................................................................98The Sterile Ones (Danil Daen)...............................................................................................99Lunch Break (Danil Daen)....................................................................................................100Wrappings (Jan J. Bylsma)....................................................................................................101God, I'm Tired (G.N. Visser).................................................................................................102From First and Last (Theun De Vries).........................................................................................103Autumn House (Tsjitte Piebenga)..............................................................................................104Sailing-Barges at Night (J.D. De Jong).......................................................................................105II. Seven Poems from Present-Day Israel......................................................................................106Translated by Moshe Dor and Rod Jellema Summer (Tuvia Ruebner)...............................................................106And the Mother's Face in the Scales (Tuvia Ruebner)..........................................................................107She Was in Jerusalem (Na'im Araidi)..........................................................................................108Looking toward Jerusalem (Na'im Araidi)......................................................................................109The Coastal Road, before Dawn (Moshe Dor)....................................................................................110Spring (Moshe Dor)...........................................................................................................111Guesses (Moshe Dor)..........................................................................................................112Words Take Water's Way.......................................................................................................115The Housekite................................................................................................................117Think Narrow.................................................................................................................118Ice Age......................................................................................................................119Bicycle Parts................................................................................................................120Letter to Lewis Smedes about God's Presence..................................................................................124The Pineapple Poem...........................................................................................................125Come Winter..................................................................................................................127Beneath the Signals of the Car Pool Radio, 1999..............................................................................129A Wedding Toast..............................................................................................................132Reach........................................................................................................................133The Replay...................................................................................................................134Secondary Ed.................................................................................................................135We Used to Grade God's Sunsets from the Lost Valley Beach....................................................................136Green Beans..................................................................................................................137New Era, Michigan............................................................................................................139Snow Emergency Route.........................................................................................................140Young Man at the Laundromat Watching the Spinning Dryers.....................................................................141Singing in the Shower........................................................................................................142Little Rock Barbeque.........................................................................................................143The Color of His Hunger......................................................................................................144Some of the "Whats" That Are in a Name.......................................................................................145Aphrodite at Paphos, 1994....................................................................................................146Take a Chance................................................................................................................147Still Life Waiting for Something to Start Again..............................................................................148Bix Beiderbecke Composing Light, 1927-1931...................................................................................149In the Dark..................................................................................................................151Blind Willie Johnson.........................................................................................................152Up from the Borinage: Three for Vincent Van Gogh.............................................................................153The Car in the Snow..........................................................................................................158Assignment Nicaragua, 1985...................................................................................................160Travel Advisory..............................................................................................................168In the Red Sea: Snorkeling off Basata........................................................................................169A Sighting...................................................................................................................172Ending the Nationwide Poets' Strike..........................................................................................173Proposing the Text for a United States National War Memorial.................................................................174A Disquisition upon Whistling................................................................................................175Hats and Awnings.............................................................................................................177Truant Dancer................................................................................................................178Herm Klaasen to Himself......................................................................................................179This Way Out.................................................................................................................180Frisian Psalms, 1930s........................................................................................................181The Function of Poetry at the Present Time...................................................................................185Window.......................................................................................................................186Early Retirement: A Note Left at the Office..................................................................................187Falling Down.................................................................................................................188Thick Lenses.................................................................................................................189Peacock Sighted against a Bright Background of Snow..........................................................................190Civilization.................................................................................................................191Automat......................................................................................................................193Reading Faces................................................................................................................194Credence.....................................................................................................................196Texts for Three Needlepoint Samplers.........................................................................................198I'm Only Human...............................................................................................................199The Runaway..................................................................................................................200Reading a Milk Carton in a Supermarket in My Old Hometown....................................................................201Marge's Thursdays, Living at Harmony Home....................................................................................203Attuned......................................................................................................................204Language Formation: An Introduction..........................................................................................205Giving It a Name.............................................................................................................206Meditation for Clarinet in Three Movements...................................................................................207A Note to the Swedish Mystic Who, Writing about Laundry in the Wind, Says "The Wash Is Nothing but Wash".....................209From Seaman Davey Owens' Diary, 1511.........................................................................................210Holiday Detour to Another Neighborhood.......................................................................................211Jazz Counterpoint............................................................................................................212Wreckers.....................................................................................................................213Walking One Night Past My Hometown's Long-Abandoned Piano Factory............................................................214The Hinge....................................................................................................................215Fishing Up Words in Norway...................................................................................................216Incident at the Savannah River Mouth.........................................................................................217About Loss...................................................................................................................218Passage......................................................................................................................219If I Could Paint Her.........................................................................................................220Appearance and Reality.......................................................................................................221Dark Glass: Four Poems.......................................................................................................222An Encounter with Perhaps Miss Marianne Moore in the Reading Room of the Library of Congress, 1966...........................225Looking at a Glass Jar Left in a House Near the Baltimore Harbor.............................................................226Washington Migrants..........................................................................................................227Remembering the Washington Race Riots, April 1968............................................................................228Imagining Ezra Pound as My Uncle.............................................................................................230The Goat Trade...............................................................................................................231Passing Through..............................................................................................................233Monument: A Walled Garden in Barcelona.......................................................................................234West Window..................................................................................................................235Some Things I Try to Forget..................................................................................................236Opening Up the Summer Lake Cottage in Early Spring...........................................................................237Bethany Beach................................................................................................................239Winter Lightning.............................................................................................................240Notes to Some of the Poems...................................................................................................241Acknowledgments..............................................................................................................245CD Track List................................................................................................................246
Chapter One
From Something Tugging the Line (1974)
Watch for Deer Crossing
the yellow signs say.
I do. The deer
aren't there. But once
I drove up Lakeshore Drive
in a blind blizzard of sleep
and had to brake
fast and hard
at the sign.
I watched horses,
rhinos, a dinosaur cross
my yellow path,
moving inland.
I keep watching
hoping I am reading
the right signs.
Mrs. Van Den Bosch
I was in her dark house next door just once,
and she gave me a cookie. She used to catch rain
in a shiny silver tub; it slid down so clean
I think Mr. Van Den Bosch scrubbed their roof
every week with Dutch cleanser, and waxed it.
I almost never saw her, but she said one day,
while I stood at her rushing downspout after rain,
how soft the water was. I didn't dare to touch.
Mr. Van Den Bosch, our landlord, who kept things straight,
put his plain and dull black bike in our garage
every night. His pants clips stared like giant spectacles,
black handcuffs, under the iron saddle. The bike
stood stiff, never leaned against our wood.
Bending into the splashes of sun and silver that time
I asked her, "Why do you save rainwater?"
and she said it made her hair soft.
Her long hair was graying, bunned back
tight, and no one ever went into that house
but me (once) and Mr. Van Den Bosch,
dismounting at 5:35 hunting things to fix.
She stole outside only once in a while for rain.
I would lie in the dark
to think there must be something near
to touch and feel the soft hair.
On Vacation, Teaching Bass
Listen, Bass,
Where is your self-respect?
I stood at your pond the last two dawns
under a dissonance of birds doing their bird-thing,
and I did my teacher-poet-at-leisure-thing, my fisherman-thing,
but you weren't doing your bass-thing at all.
I don't mind not existing; I understand about that;
I'm like anti-matter poking in, or God. Okay.
But the colors and whirrs that I pulled
through your world on transparent lines
were images, meant to do something, programmed through your genes
for millions of years.
Look. When you see that wounded wobble of red and white stripes
that I call a Daredevil lure, you're supposed to lunge
and strike — or at least get curious and follow.
but on casts and retrieves with just the right flash, vibration, and
turning
I could see down there some thirty of you
shrug in your fishy way without the slightest shock of recognition.
Wake up! Have you no collective unconscious?
Take my Mepps Anglia #2 Spinner (which none of you did take):
it was assaulting two of your senses at once (not to mention your
watery dreams),
it was `the feel and body of the awareness that it presents' —
and there you stood, slowly waving pectoral fins,
as though you were trying to think, like pre-engineers.
A lure should not mean, but be!
The three of you dullards I did catch
went for fat, stock-response, mere-prosey worms.
One more thing. When I set my hook and get you on the line,
don't just go limp and come up unastonished.
You're supposed to seize the image and run with the line, tug
(I keep the drag on my reel set light; you can probably hear it sing),
run hard, break the skin between our two worlds, twist and shimmy in
the air,
then arc and dive down deep. Keep tugging! That's your natural
response, your instinct!
Next time we will talk about fly-casting,
maddening colors like stars on the top of your world.
Try to get yourselves open.
Bass dismissed.
Poem Beginning with a Line Memorized at School
Whither, indeed, midst falling dew,
Whither, Miss Pfisterer, black-dressed and balding
Teacher of English, lover of Bryant,
Whither did we all pursue
White glow the heavens with the last somethingsomething?
Bradley Lewis, I mean:
Who put aside with his cello and his brushes
Our lusty masculine sneers at his graceful ways,
Skipped the civics exam to father a son
And now designs engines with Mozart turned up loud.
Kenny Kruiter, I mean:
Expelled from high school for incantation with wine,
Who bends the knee to his common daily bread,
Hacks every day at bleeding sides of beef
And cheers twice a week the college basketball team.
Michael Slochak, I mean:
He always stuttered every dull thing he knew
And walked home alone — past home, to one gold period
When, crimson phrase against the darkly sky,
His jet purred into a green Korean hill.
Sisters, Daughters
My two older sisters went suddenly wide
in the hips, wore bandages called bras,
girdled down flat their bellies and butts.
There was a secretive hush through the house
like a sickly smell, something clamped tight
like their silken knees. I missed the ease
of the rabbits we had been, and
my father started taking me fishing.
You my three daughters all born dead
would now be growing round and sweet
and shy. I take your brother fishing.
He leaps through the brush at the shore
lean and swift as the tip of his flyrod.
He phones his girl every night. I look
at the curved river, missing you.
Seeing Pictures at the Elementary School
See
four yellow squash
waxing huge and plump
in the dark grass. Will they explode?
Grinning bees have lit the light green fuse.
The grass is dark. Juanita. Grade 2.
John's castle.
The drawbridge stretches asleep
over a moat of blue
where sailboats bob.
A smudge of black cannon aims at my face.
For all the flags and open doors
there is no road.
See the crooked lumpy dog
bark wide at the doghouse
because the doghouse growls
a rough purple NO
where a dog's name should be.
Roger, grade 3. See Roger bark.
My mind can't hear me talking this way.
This is not about art.
My mind is certain the lion is mean,
But Donna's lion gazes
through gauze of black
that drapes the bars
and the caption says,
the lion is mean
because children have closed the curtain.
Because I Never Learned the Names of Flowers
It is moonlight and white where
I slink away from my cat-quiet blue rubber truck
and motion myself to back it up to your ear.
I peel back the doors of the van and being
to hushload into your sleep
the whole damned botanical cargo of Spring.
Sleeper, I whisk you
Trivia and Illium, Sweet Peristalsis, Flowering Delirium.
Sprigs of Purple Persiflage and Lovers' Leap, slips of Hysteria
stick in my hair. I gather clumps of Timex,
handfuls of Buttertongues, Belly buttons, and Bluelets.
I come with Trailing Nebula, I come with Late-Blooming Paradox,
with Creeping Pyromania, Pink Appoplex, and Climbing Solar Plexus,
whispering: Needlenose, Juice Cup, Godstem, Nexus, Sex-us,
Condominium.
Industrial Park
All this green hedging
going on: conduits snap and buzz underneath
and a cable just misses the goldfish
on its way to Plasticore, Inc.
Phoneline nerves sneak along roots
somewhere near the cutworms.
Pressure and voltage climb the network veins
and cascade up at the level of songbirds
and into white pavilions with popsicle windows
and tea-wafer roofs. Thousands stream in
through the turnstiles five days a week
to play, unwind, brief and debrief, eat lunch
industriously in the park on spreading music and carpet.
They touch the shiny equipment.
This is miles on the right side of the tracks
where packaged freight slips in and out at night like love
in long and glistening trucks.
So now and then I circle the Capital Beltway round and round
in the blue rubber truck,
dart into those parks from the night like a spark
and drop off under the stars and trees with love
large oily gear wheels, hard maple sawdust,
trainmen's lanterns, steam lunch-whistles —
and for use on alternate days
rolls of pink tickets, striped picnic cloths,
balloons and streamers, lemonade stands.
Davey Falling
On that day the boy shall come down at dusk
from the vacant hill, pulling his battered kite
over the ice-patched road, letting it scrape
and break. Behind the yellow
weeping windows of the kitchen
the soup shall whisper grace.
He shall smell his clean hands
and sit down between small songs his sisters.
Their forks shall chime together to ring the plates.
As easy as the blowing of steam from their cups
shall be the naming of the day's things.
His mother's fingers shall free a slow dance
in his shoulder-bone; his father's words
shall trust like the eyes of his English setter,
shall lay him down to sleep, and he
shall know, years later, always,
at any tugging of a line or string, shall know
that he had almost gotten home.
Four-Square Gospel
Old Uncle Fred could squint along forty-foot beams
And catch the gentlest wayward drift toward a curve
That no one else saw. His calloused, pitch-stained hands
Would tenderly stroke the flush seams of a perfect joint.
We used to see him astride his unwavering rafters,
Tall as the echoing blows of his worshipping arms,
Looking with pride on the loving work of his mitred,
Four-square world. He always looked sharply to see
If some sinning board in somebody's house were off square.
And longed to redeem it with the righteous tongue of his plane.
And then he slumped into arches and curves of age,
Propped up in a bed, looking out at the slanting east
While unseen termites encircled his squared-off house.
Puzzled, he eyed the long, sad arc of the geese,
The easy bend of a tree-limb heavy with fruit,
And then — we knew by the softening line of his mouth —
Saw the curve of a neck swinging free from the beams of a cross.
Walk the Edge
Get over the dunes and start along the shore
at sundown; bring big pockets, walk
not to go but to hoard
the cracks and grainings and lights
in driftwood and stones.
Make the walk spring or fall,
when few cottage lights up the dunes
can distract the drift
of your going or coming back. Drift.
Let it be down and into,
not along shore, that you go. Down.
Drift down
inside the spindrift
watch the wet edge for shapes
behind your eyes: fishes. Knots.
You can toss most shapes back
to the spendthrift Lake
for perfecting:
as deep as you are now
driftwood burns white in the dark
with time for wet sand to rub
the parent stars awake
against bone-touch of branches —
sandtime, slow as the turning of earth.
But that far is when to turn back.
You are almost too far in for love now,
almost out of time, turn now quick
to time, take breath to rise up,
you must get back, back up
to some landmark tree on a hill
can point you inland toward towns
and streets small but familiar,
the damp air of your room,
toward raucous morning
when grit of sandgrain in the sheets
and your heavy pockets
are almost strangers.
Letter to my son John, 1972
(Continues...)
Excerpted from INCARNALITYby Rod Jellema Copyright © 2010 by Rod Jellema. Excerpted by permission of William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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