Obama's inauguration poem

[theatokos]

Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other, catching each other’s
eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.

All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din, each
one of our ancestors on our tongues.

Someone is stitching up a hem, darning
a hole in a uniform, patching a tire,
repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere,
with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum,
with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky.
A teacher says, Take out your pencils. Begin.

We encounter each other in words, words
spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed,
words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark
the will of some one and then others, who said
I need to see what’s on the other side.

I know there’s something better down the road.
We need to find a place where we are safe.
We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain: that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges,

picked the cotton and the lettuce, built
brick by brick the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle, praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,
others by first do no harm or take no more
than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light,
love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward in that light.


When I heard it live I deliberately held my judgment in check, for I am a notorious poetry hater. Not that I hate poetry, but that I think most is crap. I didn't think that Ms. Alexander did a very good job of reading her poem. But at the end I decided that I liked it. I also thought it had a very pagan feel to it. I don't know anything about her spiritual leanings. Any one else get a pagan flavor from it?

Comments

[seagull42.livejournal.com]

I'd agree that the poem has more of a pan-tradition feel to me than being specifically pagan.

I don't know if it's intentional on her part, but I do know that Elizabeth Alexander is a teacher of African-American studies, and that the Yoruban word "Oriki" is often translated as "praise poetry" or "praise song" (One form of Oriki being praise songs to Orisa or the Creator.)

And though I suspect it's more likely a reference to the Hippocratic Oath, I could take "Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself, others by first do no harm or take no more than you need." to be read as "Some live by the Bible, some by the Wiccan Rede, and some by other philosophy of sharing with others".

"On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp" sounds very familiar to me, but I can't quite place it...

I don't know if it's great poetry, but I did like the sentiment it expressed to me.

I also found it interesting that Rush Limbaugh actually attacked the poem by playing sound bites and then making derogatory comments, but didn't (at least for the 10 minutes I could stand to listen) do the same for Obama's inaugural speech. Instead making a non-specific deriding comment about how the speech was meaningless and didn't say anything, and then returning to trashing the poem.