today's poet: Langston Hughes

April Rain Song

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.

woo-hoo!

Yay! Not a *lot* of perks working as a librarian, but I did get dibs on Brian's Hunt by Gary Paulsen (one of my absolute literary heroes). Thank goodness (and Mr. Paulsen) that it's not super long, because I am reading this tonight!

Books are coming -- by train, by backpack, by donkey...

I know that others have blogged this already (in fact, I don't even remember exactly who I am ripping off this link from, so apologies all around), but I felt I would be remiss if I didn't mention the wealth of information about unusual mobile libraries.

"I wander'd lonely..."

When we were in library school, I often dragged my best friend to the bookstore to buy yet another copy of Favorite Poems by William Wordsworth (God bless Dover for the $1 books!) because I would be absolutely overcome with a need to read "Daffodils" immediately. I must have bought (and then given away) about six of those books!

You'd think I'd remember to keep a copy in my knapsack.

You'd be wrong.

Spring is here again and the front of my library boasts a golden sea of these sprightly flowers. Everytime I go upstairs, I am struck by their beauty and my heart is made glad and I start to itch for the Wordsworth book again.

Hence, today's poem:

I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

why, indeed?

So, last night, we went to see Jersey Girl. At the end of the film, my friend leaned over and asked, "Why is it that Ben Affleck can only act in Kevin Smith movies and he sucks in everything else?"

I don't know. (Actually, I haven't seen many of his other films, but I liked him in Good Will Hunting and Changing Lanes.)

Regardless, though, we agreed that Affleck was the bomb in Jersey Girl. I know the film is getting mixed reviews, even among some of Smith's fans, but I don't care. I liked it. A lot. It made me laugh; it tugged at my heartstrings; it left me satisfied with this movie-going experience; it made me wonder when it's coming on dvd.

Oh, and it made me wonder if Affleck's character, Ollie, was named after the Green Arrow?

Judy Blume in the news

I loved this quote from a New York Times article about Ms. Blume:

"For her plain-speaking approach to intimate matters, Ms. Blume has been censored and adored."

You may have to sign in, but the whole article is worth a read.

So, where *are* the wmd?

A friend of mine sent me this tip for finding info on the weapons of mass destruction W has been hunting all these long months:

1. Go to Google.
2. Type in "weapons of mass destruction"
3. Click on "I'm Feeling Lucky"
4. Voila! Just what we've suspected all along!

must-read

I have not read it yet, but I just learned that the April 12, 2004 New Yorker contains a profile of Madeleine L'Engle. It's not on the webpage, so get thee to a library (or, if you're lucky, your own mailbox) and check it out...

today's poetry...

Expect lots of excerpts from Lewis Carroll's masterwork this month:

"Just the place for a Snark!'' the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.

"Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:
What I tell you three times is true.''

found

After 60 years, pieces of Antoine de Saint-Exupery's plane have been found in France: "It's impossible to say if he was shot down, if he lost consciousness, or if he had a mechanical accident," said Patrick Grandjean of the national Department of Subaquatic and Submarine Archaeological Research.

Saint-Exupery, as I am sure you all know, wrote one of the most marvelous books, which I love, The Little Prince. (NOTE: This praise applies to the Katherine Woods translation and not the unlovely, soulless newer translation!)

I was going to include a quote from the book, but I was horrifed to learn that my library does not own it! Since the Woods translation is no longer available, I will have to suss out how to remedy this wretched situation... Hmm...

Public Domain Poetry

I was happy to find a user-friendly poetry site this evening!

how bizarre! (or, i dunno, maybe not so much...)

Bob Dylan is apparently appearing in a new ad campaign for Victoria's Secret. According to Yahoo!, "It's the first time in his 40-plus years as an international star that Dylan has appeared in an ad campaign."

I don't even know what I think of this. I know they were using his song, "Love Sick," in an earlier campaign and I was happy that the song was being played in a venue where it would be heard by a wide audience. It's a great song...

I dunno. Good for Bob, I guess.

one of my favorite spring poems

in Just-

spring       when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles       far       and wee

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it's

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far       and       wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing

 from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's

spring

and

     the

             goat-footed

balloonMan       whistles

far

and

wee

(e.e. cummings, of course)

Because librarians know everything...

A little girl just walked past the desk at job #2 and I said, "Hi! How are you doin', Miss?"

Her eyes got real big and, in a tone of wonder, she asked, "How did you know my name?"

Turns out her name is Missy.

I told her that it is my job to know stuff and if she needs any help, just to ask. She nodded solemnly and sat down with a book.

Hee.

D'oh!

Another new "scholarly" book about America's favorite dysfunctional family. (I mean our collective favorite dysfunctional family -- The Simpsons, of course -- so don't panic...)

Really? That was *10*years ago?

Wow. I didn't realize that it has been ten years since Kurt Cobain died. (I actually hesitate to say that he killed himself, what with the not-unreasonable speculation about murder and all...)

So, in memory of Kurt, today's poem is from his song, "All Apologies:"

"I wish I was like you
Easily amused
Find my nest of salt
Everything's my fault
I'll take all the blame
Aqua seafoam shame
Sunburn with freezeburn
Choking on the ashes of her enemy...
...All in all is all we are"

(this seemed an appropriate first poem)

from "Forgetfulness" by Billy Collins:

"...Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart."

By the way...

... shame on me for not mentioning National Poetry Month a few days ago!

(I was just gonna say that maybe I will post a poem a day, but knowing my memory, I will forget to do that... Maybe sporadically I will spout poetry this month -- much like I do on my voice mail messages...)

"It was a dark and stormy night."

I may be wrong, but I think that A Wrinkle in Time by the brilliant Madeleine L'Engle is the only book or story to ever successfully use that opening line. And now -- I'm not sure if I am excited or scared -- this amazing story has been made into a film, set to air May 15 on ABC.

Thank God they're protecting us from those dangerous novelists!

Ian McEwan was prevented from entering the US before he could threaten us with prose! Good to know the Department of Homeland Security is doing it's job!