• PPB: Home / Martha Bijman

    From George J. Dance@21:1/5 to General-Zod on Sun Jul 3 06:24:15 2022
    On 2022-07-01 5:37 p.m., General-Zod wrote:
    Will Dockery wrote:

    On Friday, July 1, 2022 at 3:05:45 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
    On Friday, July 1, 2022 at 5:35:42 PM UTC, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
    Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Canada Day: > Home, by Marthe
    Bijman > [...] > Green things, > the tree-green, frog-green,
    grass-green, > bird-green, moss-green of our replete dreams > [...] > https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/07/home-marthe-bijman.html
    The poem is licensed under Creative Commons, so there is no need to
    visit the blog:
    Home by M. Bijman
    Where we come from there are raindrops that instantly evaporate on
    hot tar like a field of tiny smoking fires, low-running, brownish rivers
    filled with rusty sludge and simmering rocks, muddy dams with chalky
    banks and wormy, warmish, silty bottoms. heat that hits you in the chest
    and wipes its oven mitt paw over your face, white skies, or palest blue
    or yellow and boiling, like curry, from the dust.
    We were born creatures of arid habits: - the subconscious searching
    of the sky for rain clouds, the inborn waiting for the rain, the
    constant sniffing for the ozone after thunder, the habitual drawing
    towards water, always looking for some dampness in the cracked,
    jigsaw-puzzle earth.
    Where we live now there's Snow, that goes away but not far, and
    always comes back, Water, that burbles and rushes always somewhere
    close, glistening underneath jungly things,
    Green things, the tree-green, frog-green, grass-green,
    bird-green, moss-green of our replete dreams, the green, wet,
    snowy, tree-y place we call home.
    ----------
    We see that Ms. Bijman lives in Vancouver, Canada, but also has
    books about Iceland, Finland and Washington State. We think that where
    she "came from" that was so hot that raindrops "evaporate on hot tar"
    was Johannesburg, South Africa.

    But without George Dance's blog would you have even known about this
    poet?

    Exactly......!

    It reminds me of a story I read about Columbus. Back when I was a lad,
    my parents bought me all the Golden Books, including the Golden
    Encyclopedia, which I read from cover to cover. I still remember this
    story; though it's probably not true, it's the major thing I associate
    with him:

    After returning from the Americas, Columbus was honored at a banquet. At
    one point, he heard a couple of lords belittling his accomplishment and
    the idea of honoring him for it. So he asked the serving staff to bring
    a dozen eggs.

    After the eggs arrived, he challenged the guests to balance one of them
    on its end. All of them tried, and all failed; no matter how they tried
    to support it, the egg toppled over.

    Then Columbus picked up his egg, held it narrow side down above the
    table, and brought it down sharply -- not too hard, but hard enough to
    crack the shell around the air pocket. The egg stayed on its end,
    completely stable.

    Columbus then challenged the other guests to do the same, to which
    several scoffed that of course they could; anyone could do it. His
    reply: "Of course: anyone can do it, once someone has shown you how."

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