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Today marks three years since Ursula K. Le Guin passed away, on January 22, 2018. Ursula was very dear to many of us, and her work life-changing to many more. I plan to be tweeting quotes from her poetry throughout the day. /thread
A heads-up: @cafenowhere and I have co-edited an anthology of poetry in tribute to Ursula K. Le Guin. The book also includes my retrospective essay of Le Guin's poetry; I hear from @AqueductPress that the book comes out on February 1: http://www.aqueductpress.com/books/978-1-61976-197-1.php
Le Guin poetry quotes: I'll indicate the collection/chapbook for each quote, and I'll be tweeting through the day as my schedule permits. Thank you for following along!
“Call to me here and I will come,
Knowing my name and the game’s rules
and all the rest I’ve learned.
But I will not call their names
nor name them to you, those,
the children playing in the ruined fort,
the little falcons, the inheritors.” (Le Guin, Wild Angels)
Knowing my name and the game’s rules
and all the rest I’ve learned.
But I will not call their names
nor name them to you, those,
the children playing in the ruined fort,
the little falcons, the inheritors.” (Le Guin, Wild Angels)
Wild Angels is Le Guin's first poetry book, published in 1975. She was born in 1929, so I believe she was 46 when her first poetry book came out. She wrote her first poem at age 5 (this is for all of you fearing that it's too late, whatever "it" is).
I will tweet Le Guin's next poem in its entirety, over a few tweets. This is "Ars Lunga", from Wild Angels (1975):
I sit here perpetually inventing new people
as if the population boom were not enough
and not enough terror and problems
God knows, But I know too,
I sit here perpetually inventing new people
as if the population boom were not enough
and not enough terror and problems
God knows, But I know too,
that's the point. Never fear enough
to match delight, nor a deep enough abyss,
nor time enough, and there are always a few
stars missing.
I don't want a new heaven and new earth,
only the old ones.
Old sky, old dirt, new grass.
to match delight, nor a deep enough abyss,
nor time enough, and there are always a few
stars missing.
I don't want a new heaven and new earth,
only the old ones.
Old sky, old dirt, new grass.
Nor life beyond the grave,
God help me, or I'll help myself
by living all these lives
nine at once or ninety
so that death finds me at all times
and on all sides exposed,
unfortressed, undefended,
inviolable, vulnerable, alive.
------Ursula K. Le Guin
God help me, or I'll help myself
by living all these lives
nine at once or ninety
so that death finds me at all times
and on all sides exposed,
unfortressed, undefended,
inviolable, vulnerable, alive.
------Ursula K. Le Guin
Le Guin's second poetry collection is Hard Words and Other poems (1981). She is 52 when this book is published.
From "Invocation":
Give me back my language,
let me speak the tongue you taught me.
I will lie the great lies in your honor,
praise you without naming you
From "Invocation":
Give me back my language,
let me speak the tongue you taught me.
I will lie the great lies in your honor,
praise you without naming you
From "The Mind is Still" (Hard Words, 1981):
Words are my matter. I have chipped one stone
for thirty years and still it is not done,
that image of the thing I cannot see.
I cannot finish it and set it free,
transformed to energy.
-----Ursula K. Le Guin
Words are my matter. I have chipped one stone
for thirty years and still it is not done,
that image of the thing I cannot see.
I cannot finish it and set it free,
transformed to energy.
-----Ursula K. Le Guin
Le Guin wrote endlessly about nature, and her beloved Pacific Northwest. Here is "Coast" (Hard Words, 1981):
In bed in the first salt light
with the east ear I hear birds
waking and with the right
Ocean breaking inward from the night.
In bed in the first salt light
with the east ear I hear birds
waking and with the right
Ocean breaking inward from the night.
Le Guin, "The Child on the Shore" (Hard Words, 1981) comes with a musical treat. Listen to it sung - link below:
Wind, wind, give me back my feather
Sea, sea, give me back my ring
Death, death, give me back my mother
So that she can hear me sing.
Wind, wind, give me back my feather
Sea, sea, give me back my ring
Death, death, give me back my mother
So that she can hear me sing.
Le Guin, "Amazed" (Hard Words):
"The center is not where the center is
but where I will be when I follow
the lines of stones that wind about a center
that is not there
but there.
The lines of stones lead inward, bringing
the follower to the beginning"
"The center is not where the center is
but where I will be when I follow
the lines of stones that wind about a center
that is not there
but there.
The lines of stones lead inward, bringing
the follower to the beginning"
"To begin
is to return.
To lose the seed
is the flower.
To learn the stone
touches the spring.
To see the dancing:
starlight.
To hear the dancing:
darkness.
To dance the dancing:
shining, shining."
--Ursula K. Le Guin, Always Coming Home, 1985.
is to return.
To lose the seed
is the flower.
To learn the stone
touches the spring.
To see the dancing:
starlight.
To hear the dancing:
darkness.
To dance the dancing:
shining, shining."
--Ursula K. Le Guin, Always Coming Home, 1985.
Land forms
the mind.
Ideas fill these bogs,
low hills, long leas
by glaciers formed.
Hands
farmed,
cut, dug, deformed
some lands.
Not these.
Land informs
mind as water
the hills in working to the sea.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Northern B.C.," from Wild Oats and Fireweed (1988)
the mind.
Ideas fill these bogs,
low hills, long leas
by glaciers formed.
Hands
farmed,
cut, dug, deformed
some lands.
Not these.
Land informs
mind as water
the hills in working to the sea.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Northern B.C.," from Wild Oats and Fireweed (1988)
They always shut us up in towers
ever since once upon a
So we learn alone there
arts of unlocking
Till the old terrors
shed wolfskin and stand brothers
Ursula K. Le Guin, "For Katya," from Wild Oats and Fireweed (1988)
ever since once upon a
So we learn alone there
arts of unlocking
Till the old terrors
shed wolfskin and stand brothers
Ursula K. Le Guin, "For Katya," from Wild Oats and Fireweed (1988)
No falls.
Only a climbing
lightly through forests
till the five white peaks rise
out of torment of black lava to the sky
and a laughing come-down
past the absent sign
silently hiding
what falls.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Looking for Proxy Falls," Going Out with Peacocks (1994)
Only a climbing
lightly through forests
till the five white peaks rise
out of torment of black lava to the sky
and a laughing come-down
past the absent sign
silently hiding
what falls.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Looking for Proxy Falls," Going Out with Peacocks (1994)
The poem quoted in the previous tweet inspired the title for our tribute poetry anthology edited with @cafenowhere , coming out from Aqueduct on Feb.1st - a kind reader just told me that it is already available from Amazon, you can find it here: https://www.amazon.com/Climbing-Lightly-Through-Forests-Anthology/dp/1619761971/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=climbing+lightly+through+forest&qid=1611337867&sr=8-1
Climbing Lightly through Forests, co-edited with @cafenowhere , includes many poems from incredible poets around the world, as well as my retrospective essay of Le Guin's poetry. I will tweet more about this book on February 1st, the official release date from @AqueductPress
Back to Ursula's poetry :) she loved cats. Many poems about cats.
Sleeping with Cats
In smoothness of darkness are
warm lumps of silence.
There are no species.
Purring recurs.
--- Ursula K. Le Guin, in Wild Oats and Fireweed (1994)
Sleeping with Cats
In smoothness of darkness are
warm lumps of silence.
There are no species.
Purring recurs.
--- Ursula K. Le Guin, in Wild Oats and Fireweed (1994)
One of my favorites, Buzzard Visit, about a buzzard looking at the poet:
I am not dead,
yet, I said, but it waited
to see what I was doing.
Look, I said, I’m sewing!
But it knew we’re all, whatever else
we may be doing, dying.
- Ursula K. Le Guin, Wild Oats... (1994)
I am not dead,
yet, I said, but it waited
to see what I was doing.
Look, I said, I’m sewing!
But it knew we’re all, whatever else
we may be doing, dying.
- Ursula K. Le Guin, Wild Oats... (1994)
Le Guin wrote a lot about death, and it's something I discuss in my retrospective essay in Climbing Lightly through Forests (I'm also working on an academic book about Le Guin's poetry...). I love her poetry so much.
A lizard with no tail
looked at me and its flicked tongue
said: Belief in punishment
is punishment, belief
in sin is sin.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "In That Desert," (Wild Oats and Fireweed), written for the AIDS Wall in Portland, 1989
looked at me and its flicked tongue
said: Belief in punishment
is punishment, belief
in sin is sin.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "In That Desert," (Wild Oats and Fireweed), written for the AIDS Wall in Portland, 1989
But what I want O listen what I want
is to be not afraid.
Listen what I need is freedom.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Werewomen" (Wild Oats and Fireweed 1994)
is to be not afraid.
Listen what I need is freedom.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Werewomen" (Wild Oats and Fireweed 1994)
But listen there's a moon out there
and I don't want sex and I don't want death
and I don't want what you think I want
only to be a free woman.
What is that, a free woman,
a young free woman,
an old free woman?
Asking for the moon.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Werewomen"
and I don't want sex and I don't want death
and I don't want what you think I want
only to be a free woman.
What is that, a free woman,
a young free woman,
an old free woman?
Asking for the moon.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Werewomen"
I that am love
this body that is
not for much longer.
We are old
partners in the sunlight
trade and fly by night
deals. We do collaborate
in getting on.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Getting on," (Going Out with Peacocks, 1994)
this body that is
not for much longer.
We are old
partners in the sunlight
trade and fly by night
deals. We do collaborate
in getting on.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Getting on," (Going Out with Peacocks, 1994)
I begin again at sixty-one.
...
Begin again.
Start here.
This word.
I try to be true.
I lie and I
begin again.
Must I trust
you?
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Start Here," (Sixty-Odd, 1999)
...
Begin again.
Start here.
This word.
I try to be true.
I lie and I
begin again.
Must I trust
you?
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Start Here," (Sixty-Odd, 1999)
World,
you interpenetrate my mesh. The tendriled gods
still climb my spine, stars are my tears,
birds wing my feet and lions lick my hair,
but the net of mankind wears so thin
that the old soul falls through, slick fish,
cynic butterfly, shadow of a crow.
---- Ursula K. Le Guin
you interpenetrate my mesh. The tendriled gods
still climb my spine, stars are my tears,
birds wing my feet and lions lick my hair,
but the net of mankind wears so thin
that the old soul falls through, slick fish,
cynic butterfly, shadow of a crow.
---- Ursula K. Le Guin
Beware when you honor an artist.
You are praising danger.
You are holding out your hand
to the dead and the unborn.
You are counting on what cannot be counted.
The poet's measures serve anarchic joy.
The story-teller tells one story: freedom.
---- Ursula K. Le Guin
You are praising danger.
You are holding out your hand
to the dead and the unborn.
You are counting on what cannot be counted.
The poet's measures serve anarchic joy.
The story-teller tells one story: freedom.
---- Ursula K. Le Guin
The Stepmother
I could curse her.
Who is she with her grey hair
and wrinkles, hagridden,
powerless creature?
Why do I know her?
Ask me, says the mirror.
I reverse her.
She is careless, fearless,
fair, and she has power.
-- Ursula K. Le Guin
I could curse her.
Who is she with her grey hair
and wrinkles, hagridden,
powerless creature?
Why do I know her?
Ask me, says the mirror.
I reverse her.
She is careless, fearless,
fair, and she has power.
-- Ursula K. Le Guin
I am the woman in the basement
singing singing very low
so nobody hears me at my magic casement
opening on nowhere to go.
...
Long years past birth I multiply.
I populate the universe.
Scattered stars in earthen sky,
I am all the Ancestors.
-- Ursula K. Le Guin
singing singing very low
so nobody hears me at my magic casement
opening on nowhere to go.
...
Long years past birth I multiply.
I populate the universe.
Scattered stars in earthen sky,
I am all the Ancestors.
-- Ursula K. Le Guin
Why is it I want to cry?
Crow, crow, tell me.
There is a shadow passing by.
The willows call me.
Why would an old woman weep?
Willow, tell me, willow.
Crows went flying through my sleep.
I cry and follow.
-- Ursula K. Le Guin, "Intimations," Finding my Elegy 2012
Crow, crow, tell me.
There is a shadow passing by.
The willows call me.
Why would an old woman weep?
Willow, tell me, willow.
Crows went flying through my sleep.
I cry and follow.
-- Ursula K. Le Guin, "Intimations," Finding my Elegy 2012
One of my favorite Le Guin poems: https://twitter.com/challis_erica/status/1352675755298197506
I celebrate sagebrush,
scrub-oak, digger pine, juniper,
the despised and rejected
or grudgingly accepted
because nothing else grows here.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Western Outlaws," Late in the Day 2016
scrub-oak, digger pine, juniper,
the despised and rejected
or grudgingly accepted
because nothing else grows here.
Ursula K. Le Guin, "Western Outlaws," Late in the Day 2016
Song
Untongued I turn to still
forgetting all I will.
Light lies the shadow
on the way I go.
Ursula K. Le Guin, from Late in the Day 2016
Untongued I turn to still
forgetting all I will.
Light lies the shadow
on the way I go.
Ursula K. Le Guin, from Late in the Day 2016
The day is wrapping up for me, and I will tweet a few last things from Ursula's ninth and final collection, So Far So Good. She finalized it a week before she passed away, and it came out posthumously in 2018 from Copper Canyon.
Little Grandmother
A dry-voiced chickadee
reproves what's gone amiss.
From our crab-apple tree
she gazes critically
at autumn's entropy
and quietly says this:
I am Chickadee,
and things have gone amiss.
--Ursula K. Le Guin (So Far So Good 2018)
A dry-voiced chickadee
reproves what's gone amiss.
From our crab-apple tree
she gazes critically
at autumn's entropy
and quietly says this:
I am Chickadee,
and things have gone amiss.
--Ursula K. Le Guin (So Far So Good 2018)
Lullaby
where's my little fleeting cat
a year a year an hour a day
where's my little girl at
fleeting away sleeping away
found the way clear away
nowhere far nowhere near
a day a day an hour a year
--Ursula K. Le Guin (So Far So Good 2018)
where's my little fleeting cat
a year a year an hour a day
where's my little girl at
fleeting away sleeping away
found the way clear away
nowhere far nowhere near
a day a day an hour a year
--Ursula K. Le Guin (So Far So Good 2018)
The Combat
On the farthest margin of old age
in thickets and quicksands of half-sleep
the fat grey serpent of despair
wrestles with the thin tiger of my rage.
The tiger's teeth meet in the snake.
Break, writhing backbone, break!
--Ursula K. Le Guin (So Far So Good 2018)
On the farthest margin of old age
in thickets and quicksands of half-sleep
the fat grey serpent of despair
wrestles with the thin tiger of my rage.
The tiger's teeth meet in the snake.
Break, writhing backbone, break!
--Ursula K. Le Guin (So Far So Good 2018)
The last excerpt is from one of my favorite Le Guin poems (I recently posted a tribute poem to this poem on my Patreon, link in bio for those interested).
"Soul clap hands and louder sing" said Yeats
but the song this old soul wants to sing is soft
--Ursula K. Le Guin
"Soul clap hands and louder sing" said Yeats
but the song this old soul wants to sing is soft
--Ursula K. Le Guin
Thank you so much for following along as I shared some of my favorite poetry excerpts from Ursula K. Le Guin's long career. The photo is my stack of her nine poetry collections (I also have chapbooks, not pictured)
If you enjoyed this thread, please check out Climbing Lightly Through Forests, an anthology of poetry in honor of Le Guin I co-edited with Lisa M. Bradley @cafenowhere. The anthology is WONDERFUL, and I will tweet more about it on Feb.1, our launch day.
@AqueductPress
@AqueductPress
For more of my work, you can check out my fantasy novella The Four Profound Weaves, which came out last Fall from Tachyon Press https://tachyonpublications.com/product/four-profound-weaves-the/
In 2020, I became the latest Le Guin Feminist Science Fiction Fellow, and I am hoping to do research at the University of Oregon as soon as the pandemic ends/eases up. I will be working on an academic book about Le Guin's poetry.
You can check out my Patreon (link in bio), my website http://rblemberg.net/ , follow me here on Twitter, or do none of the above :)
It was good to share some of Ursula's poetry with you. Take care.
It was good to share some of Ursula's poetry with you. Take care.
