Ben Henderson’s new wobble was supposed to be the secret weapon he needed to save his career. But while his new baseball pitch ultimately missed the mark, his “revolutionary musket” still fired the first shot heard ’round the jazz world — leaving its mark as the first recorded use of the word “jazz”.
The year was 1912. Henderson was a pitcher for the Portland Beavers. According to Ben Zimmer, the language columnist for The Boston Globe, Henderson announced “that he had a special pitch, a curve ball called ‘the jazz ball’ that he was going to use, and he said it would completely flummox the batters because it wobbles so much you simply can’t do anything with it.”
While playing June Jazz at Tweetspeak last month, Maureen Doallas managed to hit one out of the park. You can catch the audio of her reading the poem in Thursday’s Top 10 Poetic Picks.
But, really, everyone nailed down a good “jazz ball”, even shattering some windows in the process because we liked the sound of breaking glass. Now we’re ready to play with those shards.
Of course, whenever we try something new by shattering the glass of our old expectations, we may find ourselves staring at a mess of questions after the last inning. “Am I any good?” “Do I have anything worthwhile, in this heap of shards, with which I can build anything beautiful?”
Shh. Get down on your hands and knees. Look at the pieces. Hold them up to the sun. Until the light speaks and guides your hand.
This month, The Cento (a kind of mosaic poem) is our theme at Every Day Poems.
Poetry invites us to reflect and focus on the beauty of fragments. We discover new patterns and artistry as we begin to sort through and rearrange those images and ideas.
Here’s how July Mosaics works …
If you haven’t already, please consider subscribing to Every Day Poems.
1. On Mondays, the Every Day Poem in your inbox becomes a pile of raw material. Sort through the words and find a few gems. Rearrange as many as you want into a new found poem. You’re free to mix in your own words.
2. Tweet your poems to us. Add a #tsmosaics hashtag so we can find it and maybe share it with the world.
3. Or leave your found poem here in the comment box.
We’ll read your tweets and share some of your weekly play each week. At the end of the month, we’ll choose a winning poem and ask the playful poet to record his or her poem to be featured in one of our upcoming Weekly Top 10 Poetic Picks.
Here’s today’s Every Day Poem. Now go cool-arrange.
Photo by Kejoli. Creative Commons, via Flickr. Post by Matthew Kreider.
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Buy a year of Every Day Poems, just $5.99— Read a poem a day, become a better poet. In July we’re exploring the theme The Cento.
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- Journey into Poetry: Matthew Kreider - July 23, 2012
Donna says
shards… what a fun idea! never thought of doing something like this before, mixing words found, like choosing crayons from a box! here I go giving it a try. “biligual” (llbarkat) took my breath away, i must say, and it felt more than a bit intrusive to dip into the perfectly placed words and shuffle them around… but it was fun and revealing – a bit meditative and reminded me of the zentangles drawing/doodle play.
mutual ghosts~
laying
your hand
like a mist
you
found me
capable of feeling light
you
found
spirit
in the flesh
you
found
flesh
in the
whiteness
of the wind
Matthew Kreider says
Donna, so glad you’re *in*! Looking forward to reading more as you piece together those meditations!
Maureen Doallas says
Thank you for the generous words about “Confession”. I didn’t know when you asked for a recording that your intent was to feature it. So a double thank you, Matt. Fortunately, Dominion Virginia brought us back onto the grid; I recorded the poem this morning. Hope everyone enjoys it.
I have a cento planned for a post next week. I will, of course, try my hand at today’s offering. That won’t be easy, given that the poem is LL’s!
Matthew Kreider says
Well, I’m very glad DV got your power turned on, though I do confess a selfish perspective …The audio for your poem is just marvelous.
Everyone is in for a delicious treat on Thursday! Just be prepared for the uproar, Maureen: folks will want to hear more of your voice! 🙂
Maureen Doallas says
Some Kind of Feeling
Your spirit hand
is walking over
my ghost.
The light, a mist
of whiteness,
found me but wind,
I like to think,
translated into
the flesh of you
and me. Again.
* * * * *
Into your spirit
hand I am
brought, a ghost
wind translated.
You and I
walking again,
back into light.
* * * *
You, light
like mist,
brought me
your spirit.
My hand,
capable,
found you.
Some kind
of feeling
is translated.
Matthew Kreider says
Love how the words refract …
Glynn says
I posted it on my blog – http://faithfictionfriends.blogspot.com/2012/07/translation.html – but here it is as well:
Translation
It is mutual, of course.
I come walking
with my light news
(the San Antonio Light?)
except you see a mist
I mean to be a fog, like
all news is, all
the fog that’s print to fit.
I offer spirit but
you want flesh.
Some things, like wind,
and ghosts, are
beyond translation.
Matthew Kreider says
“all/ the fog that’s print to fit.” I can feel that haze on my inky thumbs. Great line, Glynn.
Danelle says
Found
Feeling your hand laying over the mist of my flesh.
Whiteness.
Light.
The wind of you brought me back.
And a ghost, walking
is translated.
Is found.
Matthew Kreider says
Yay, Danelle! I’ve missed you. 🙂 Thanks for sharing your beautiful arrangement here.
Danelle says
I haven’t tried to intentionally weave a poem together since I was in college. I had butterflies when I clicked “submit”.
Laurie says
Sorting Shards
I like to think
of you
capable of feeling
the wind again,
walking,
your hand translated
into flesh,
that kind light
found you,
brought you back,
of mist and spirit –
a bilingual whiteness
laying over the
ghost-like news.
Donna says
It’s kind of magical…. how everyone uses the same shards and creates vastly different wonderful pieces of mosaic! Reminding me of the fused glass class I’m going to take, only no band aids required!
Donna says
Mine for today is on my blog; The Oxford Cento Cento http://unmixingcolors.typepad.com/along_the_way/2012/07/oxford-cento-cento.html
Rosanne Osborne says
Cluelessness
Ghosts walk
through our mutual mist
finding us in the white news
we thought
we brought to lay lightly
before the spirit.
Matthew Kreider says
Beautiful, Rosanne.
Donna says
again
wind
translated
back to you
a ghost
of light
of spirit
of flesh
again
(with image http://unmixingcolors.typepad.com/along_the_way/2012/07/again.html)
Rosanne Osborne says
Petition
Spirit, find me
in the ghostly whiteness
of the walking mist.
Bring me
the newly laid likeness
of mutual thought.
Donna says
…july cento emerges!
the little things
http://unmixingcolors.typepad.com/along_the_way/2012/07/little-things.html
“it’s good,” she said
(i like to think it is mutual)
meanwhile,
the men weep
for what little things
could
make them glad
that
time cannot take
nor a
thief purloin.
Rosanne Osborne says
Deception
Ghosts think
they are mutual spirits,
white foundlings
walking out of the mist,
translating our new lies.
Rosanne Osborne says
When this idea was first posted, I admit I was dubious, but it’s been amazing to me how generative the experience has been.
Regeneration
Mist of our likeness,
ghost of our thoughts,
translate us into wind
that feels the flesh
the new spirit brings.
Rosanne Osborne says
Perception
The news translates
the windless white
of darkened feeling,
flesh and spirit,
into negative capability.
Rosanne Osborne says
And two last attempts…what a rich experience!
Reverberations
The ghostliness of news
the wind lays in the mind
walks in thought mist,
that mutual whiteness
of flesh without feeling.
Incarnation
Translate the flesh
of my hand to spirit
and let me know
the white feeling,
the mutual mist
of walking in the light.
path of treasure says
Translation
The words fall like mist upon
morning; awakens dusty earth,
soaks dry bones. I wipe off dew
and see that you have left your
prints on my flesh. I am no longer
a ghost; I move like wind, seek
quiet shadows, and translate
their words into music.