Category Archives: Poetry

History, Poetry, Security

The Easter Rising and Vernacular Poetry

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I thought it fitting to take a moment this Easter Sunday to remember three noted poets who gave their life in a struggle against British rule. Patrick Pearse (Pádraic Anraí Mac Piarais) — called the “embodiment of the rebellion” and credited with proclaiming a Republic — Joseph Mary Plunkett and Thomas MacDonagh. After the British quickly routed the Irish rebellion in 1916, all three were executed by firing squad.

It is no coincidence that the Irish rising was led by men who practiced poetry, as they surely relied upon it as the most natural way to help persuade the public to resist the authority of the Kingdom and achieve political independence. Poetry in Irish is considered the oldest form of verse in Europe that specifically emphasized accessibility to a “common person”, or in other words poetry not written or spoken in Latin. This earns it the title of “vernacular”.

This heritage to the race of kings
by Joseph Plunkett

This heritage to the race of kings-
Their children and their children’s seed
Have wrought their prophecies in deed
Of terrible and splendid things.

The hands that fought, the hearts that broke
In old immortal tragedies,
Theses have not failed beneath the skies,
Their children’s heads refuse the yoke.

And still their hands shall guard the sod
That holds their father’s funeral urn,
Still shall their hearts volcanic burn
With anger of the sons of God.

No alien sword shall earn as wage
The entail of their blood and tears,
No shameful price for peaceful years
Shall ever part this heritage.

Poetry, Security

Poetry as education

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I haven’t read this book by Sam Apple yet, but it certainly looks interesting. The following quote by Honor Moore caught my attention:

“[A]s self-deprecating as a poetic version of Woody Allen.”

And here’s the synopsis on the website, which indicates that a shepherd used a form of rhyming verses to help fight ignorance in Austria after WWII:

Hans Breuer, Austria’s only wandering shepherd, is also a Yiddish folksinger. He walks the Alps, shepherd’s stick in hand, singing lullabies to his 625 sheep. Sometimes he even gives concerts in historically anti-Semitic towns, showing slides of the flock as he belts out Yiddish ditties. Born in 1954, Breuer spent his childhood in Vienna fighting the lingering Nazism in Austrian society. His performances are an attempt to educate his fellow citizens on the people their parents and grandparents had helped to wipe out of Europe.

I always said rhymes were the best way to help educate, since they are memorable and often contagious. “Ctrl-Alt-Delete when you leave your seat” has been the most successful I’ve found so far…

Poetry, Security

National Poetry Month

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Here’s to April showers and National Poetry Month. Scholastic has some fun links to help kick off the celebrations; “use these resources throughout the school year to practice language and literacy skills for all grade levels.”

Community Poems (PreK–2)
Creepy Crawlies (K–2)
The Farm Octopus (K–2)
Poems About Me (PreK–2)
Get Ready to Rhyme (K–5)
The Name Game (PreK–1)
Poems About Me (PreK–2)
Writing an Acrostic (3–8)
Noun Poems (K–5)
Small Poems (1–5)
Personification (K–5)
Chants and Street Rhymes (3–8)
Math Poetry Puzzles (K–4)

The chants and street rhymes are especially interesting to read and reflect on from a security perspective. Imagine using the following rhyme as your passphrase:

Bake a pudding, bake a pie,
Did you ever tell a lie

Or if you are restricted to using passwords, perhaps you could create this version of the same:

baPBa314Du

…if you know what I mean. Here’s another good one to play around with:

Ooo-ah, wanna piece of pie,
Pie too sweet, wanna piece of meat,
Meat too tough, wanna ride a bus,
Bus was full, wanna ride a bull,
Bull too fat, want your money back,
Money too green, wanna jelly bean,
Jelly bean not cooked, wanna read a book,
Book not read, wanna go to bed.
So close your eyes and count to ten,
And if you miss, start all over again.

Poetry

Poetry is like making Beer

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The Economist has an amusing review of the economic and social impact of blogging:

JOURNALISM is like making beer. Or so Glenn Reynolds says in his engaging new book. Without formal training and using cheap equipment, almost anyone can do it. The quality may be variable, but the best home-brews are tastier than the stuff you see advertised during the Super Bowl. This is because big brewers, particularly in America, have long aimed to reach the largest market by pushing bland brands that offend no one. The rise of home-brewing, however, has forced them to create “micro-brews� that actually taste of something. In the same way, argues Mr Reynolds, bloggers—individuals who publish their thoughts on the internet—have shaken up the mainstream media (or MSM, in blogger parlance).

Funny metaphysical questions. Can journalism be said to exist even if it is not printed in the New York Times? Does poetry exist outside literature? I say absolutely and thankfully, yes, as long as existence is a matter of good taste rather than income alone.

As the metaphysicists might say, we should be forbidden from mourning the loss of macro brews…

Holy Sonnet X
by John Donne

    Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
    Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so ;
    For those, whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow,
    Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
    From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
    Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
    And soonest our best men with thee do go,
    Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
    Thou’rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
    And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
    And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
    And better than thy stroke ; why swell’st thou then ?
    One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
    And Death shall be no more ; Death, thou shalt die.