Auld Lang Syne

Warm up your vocal cords for "Auld Lang Syne."

This Scots poem was written by Robert Burns (Robert Burns' Auld lang syne and other songs) in 1788 and set to the tune of a traditional folk song. It is well known in many countries, especially in the English-speaking world. Its traditional use has become to celebrate the start of the New Year at the stroke of midnight.

The song's Scots title may be translated into English literally as "old long since", or more idiomatically, "long long ago", "days gone by" or "old times". Consequently "For auld lang syne", as it appears in the first line of the chorus, might be loosely translated as "for (the sake of) old times".

Burns� original Scots verse

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne

CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we�ll tak a cup o� kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely ye�ll be your pint-stowp
and surely I�ll be mine
And we�ll tak a cup o� kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.


We twa hae run about the braes,
and pu�d the gowans fine ;
But we�ve wander�d mony a weary fit,
sin auld lang syne.


We twa hae paidl�d i' the burn,
frae morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us braid hae roar�d
sin auld lang syne.


And there�s a hand, my trusty fiere
and gie's a hand o� thine
And we�ll tak a right gude-willy waught,
for auld lang syne.

and the version you'll probably be singing tonight

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne

CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely you�ll buy your pint cup
and surely I�ll buy mine
And we'll take a cup o� kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine ;
But we�ve wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there�s a hand my trusty friend
And give us a hand o� thine
And we�ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auld_Lang_Syne

Tonight�s December thirty-first

Tonight�s December thirty-first,
Something is about to burst.
The clock is crouching, dark and small,
Like a time bomb in the hall.
Hark, it's midnight, children dear.
Duck! Here comes another year!

Ogden Nash

Frederic Ogden Nash (August 19, 1902 � May 19, 1971) was an American poet well known for his light verse. At the time of his death in 1971, the New York Times said his "droll verse with its unconventional rhymes made him the country's best-known producer of humorous poetry".[1] Ogden Nash wrote over 500 pieces of comic verse. The best of his work was published in 14 volumes between 1931 and 1972.

December, Outdoors

John Updike's poetry is often overlooked in favor of his novels and short stories. It is often noted that his fiction is "poetic" and rich in its use of language. But the poems don't get much attention.

Updike wrote some witty, light verse and liked to play with words and language in his poetry. But he also wrote a good number of solid poems.

I like this one which was posted on the writersalmanac.publicradio.org site this month.

holding the dunes, originally uploaded by Ken Ronkowitz.

December, Outdoors

Clouds like fish shedding scales are stretched
thin above Salem. The calm cold sea
accepts the sun as an equal, a match:
the horizon a truce, the air all still.
Sun, but no shadows somehow, the trees
ideally deleafed, a contemplative gray
that ushers into the woods (in summer
crammed with undergrowth) sheer space.

How fortunate it is to move about
without impediment, Nature having
no case to make, no special weather to plead,
unlike some storm-obsessed old symphonist.
The day is piano; I see buds so subtle
they know, though fat, that this is no time to bloom.

by John Updike, from Endpoint and Other Poems

There Are 36,000 Students in My Poetry Class

Stadium at The University of Southern Mississippi

How would you do in a poetry class that had 36,000 students? That class size would just fill all the seats in "The Rock" stadium at Southern Miss.

In my college teaching, I have been exploring the massive open online courses (MOOCs) that have been a big part of higher education in 2012. These courses are being sponsored by some of the top universities and by new independent companies and non-profits exploring new ways to address learning.

As the name says, these courses are massive (anywhere from a few hundred learners to well over 100,000 students), open (generally free and open to anyone in the world with computer access; often age is not considered), and online (all activities are generally online and students are at a distance).

In an essay,"One Class, 36,000 Students" by Elliott Holt  on The Poetry Foundation website, she talks about her experience being in a poetry MOOC.

...through Twitter, I heard about a free, online modern American poetry class; friends raved about the professor, University of Pennsylvania�s Al Filreis, so I signed up. I wasn�t alone. By the time the class started in September, 33,000 people had joined in�from South Africa to California�including Senate Majority Whip Dick Durbin. (Two months later, enrollment had reached more than 36,000.)

The Washington Post called MOOCs "elite education for the masses,� and The New York Times said 2012 was "the year of the MOOC."  With universities like Harvard, Stanford, and Princeton offering free classes, it just had to garner some attention. Coursera (a for-profit company) offered the poetry class that Elliott tried. Coursera says that they have 1.7+ million students.

Some of these courses offer "certificates of completion" but they do not count towards a degree from these schools. Of course, part of the appeal is that you can get some Ivy League education for nothing. Maybe.

I have been teaching online since 2001 in a more traditional university degree program. But Elliott had what I would consider a typical first online course experience in her first week.

My inbox began to fill with notifications from Modern Poetry, but, distracted by other writing assignments, I paid little attention. It�s easy to ignore a class when you don�t have to face the professor in person. When I finally logged in to the site, two weeks after the course began, I realized how much I�d already missed. I had flashbacks to my college days, when I was often playing catch-up in a caffeinated panic. Gnawed by stress, I was tempted to bag the whole thing. But then I clicked on the first video discussion, about Emily Dickinson�s �I dwell in Possibility.�

Time management is a major requirement in online courses - and a major downfall for many students. I will admit that in the MOOC I am currently a student in on creativity offered by Stanford, I fell victim to my own distracted life to the point where I had to change my status in the class to "auditing."

Still, I am fine with that as I was not interested in getting any type of certificate for the course. I was as interested in how the course was being taught and presented online, as I was with the course subject - and I get to see both of those things by auditing.

Most groups that offer these courses expect high dropout rates. That is also a factor of the free nature of the course - if I was paying $250, I would have taken the work more seriously.

I�m relieved to receive an email that says the course materials will be available online until next September. I�ll have a full year to catch up on the video discussions I missed and to reread the poems closely. (Confession: In the 10th week of the course, I�m still working my way through the material from the seventh week.) When I missed a class in college, there was no way to catch up on the lectures or discussion. I�m not sure MOOCs can replace traditional university education, but they can certainly complement it.

If you think that poetry is not the right subject for a MOOC, think about other poetry offerings online. Writing courses using the old correspondence model (snail mail) have been around for at least 50 years.

I remember ads with Bennett Cerf, Rod Serling and others in magazines for The Famous Writers School back in the 1960s.

And many colleges began offering courses using lectures on VHS tapes in the 1980s, moved to CDs, then DVDs and then finally online.

There are a good number of online and low-residency (requiring occasional face-to-face visits to a campus) writing programs for undergraduates and full MFA writing programs. From the people I know who teach in these programs and from students who have taken the classes, writing works better than many subjects in this format.

Although Poets Online is not a MOOC (yet!) or even an online workshop, it has some elements of those formats.

So, how would you feel in a poetry class with 36,000 students? Would reading poetry rather than writing poetry work better for you? If you have been in a MOOC, what was the experience like for you?  I welcome your comments here.

Elliott Holt    Photo: Rebecca Zeller

Elliott Holt's first novel You Are One of Them will be published in 2013 and her short fiction has appeared in The Pushcart Prize XXXV  among other places. Follow her on twitter @elliottholt.

Asian American Poetry Retreat Applications Now Open

In order to help mentor the next generation of Asian American poets, Kundiman sponsors an annual Poetry Retreat in partnership with Fordham University.

During the Retreat, nationally renowned Asian American poets conduct workshops with fellows. Readings, writing circles and informal social gatherings are also scheduled.

Through this Retreat, Kundiman hopes to provide a safe and instructive environment that identifies and addresses the unique challenges faced by emerging Asian American poets. Workshops will not exceed eight students.

This 5-day Retreat takes place from Wednesday to Sunday at Fordham University, Rose Hill, New York City, June 19 - 23, 2013

Applications for the Poetry Retreat are due between December 15 - February 1, 2013

Retreat Faculty: Li-Young Lee, Srikanth Reddy, and Lee Ann Roripaugh
 
For more information on the Asian American Poetry Retreat, visit the Kundiman retreat page.



�I never knew Asian American poetry was so vibrant, so powerful, so incredibly and indelibly written on my soul and across this nation.�
� Neil Aitken



�I discovered a supportive and dynamic community of young writers, deeply engaged with each other�s work, who are constantly giving new meaning to what it is to be an Asian American poet.�
� Phayvanh Luekhamhan



"Kundiman�s support of both literature and community is part of the very spirit and vision of the organization. This can be seen very specifically in their Kavad project and the way it values the lives and experiences of older Asian Americans and understands that the stories of these individuals need to be recorded and made into literature."

� David Mura

"All my life" by Sarah Broom

So we sat, and the waves
crashed in like gifts, or insults,
and the children played,
digging trenches to defend
against the sea, and then a head
bobbed up and down
in the waves, a bit too far out,
and an arm waved, and again,
and a friend walked the beach,
waving the head in, and we sat
and said to each other
do you know that Stevie Smith
poem, not waving but drowning �
yes, and why is it still

Gary Snyder and Lessons Learned

  

 Men ask the way to Cold Mountain
    ... there's no through trail
    In summer, ice doesn't melt
    The rising sun blurs in swirling fog.
    How did I make it?

Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems

Another year ends. What have we learned?

This is a time of year when we see many reviews of the year's events, movies, books etc. But you don't see many reviews of what we have learned. I suppose that is a topic for personal contemplation rather than public expression. Still, with the proliferation of blogs and status updates via social media, many of us seem to be continuously reviewing on our lives. Some denigrate this as "navel gazing"but when it is done well, it is much more than that.

In the two poems by Gary Snyder we use as models this month, he looks at lessons learned

Snyder is still associated with the Beat Generation poets. In 1955, he read with Allen Ginsberg at the famous October Sixth Gallery Reading where Ginsberg read "Howl" for the first time, and the two poets became lifelong friends. Jack Kerouac based the The Dharma Bums� Japhy Ryder character on Snyder.

Unlike the other Beat poets who were city kids, Snyder grew up in the woods of Washington and Oregon and was interested in nature, anthropology, Asian culture and was a dedicated Zen Buddhist. Lawrence Ferlinghetti called him �The Thoreau of the Beat Generation.�

When he took lessons in landscape painting as a meditative practice, he tried to translate the concept to poetry. This led to his epic myth-poem, Mountains and Rivers Without End, which he sees as a kind of literary equivalent of a Chinese or Japanese scroll painting. He worked on it over the course of 40 years.

He attended Reed college where he started reading Asian poetry. In the summers, he worked in logging camps, on trail crews, and as a fire lookout in the mountains.

His poem "Hay for the Horses" came out of those summer experiences, and it is one that I have loved for many years. It is the poem of a younger person who is learning from the life of someone else. The lesson learned from the hay truck driver is that we often end up in a life that we swore we would not end up in. Does that mean the life is bad? Not necessarily, but a caution nevertheless to a younger person at how easily we can fall comfortably into a life that we never intended. 

Hay for the Horses

He had driven half the night
From far down San Joaquin
Through Mariposa, up the
Dangerous Mountain roads,
And pulled in at eight a.m.
With his big truckload of hay
behind the barn.
With winch and ropes and hooks
We stacked the bales up clean
To splintery redwood rafters
High in the dark, flecks of alfalfa
Whirling through shingle-cracks of light,
Itch of haydust in the
sweaty shirt and shoes.
At lunchtime under Black oak
Out in the hot corral,
---The old mare nosing lunchpails,
Grasshoppers crackling in the weeds---
"I'm sixty-eight" he said,
"I first bucked hay when I was seventeen.
I thought, that day I started,
I sure would hate to do this all my life.
And dammit, that's just what
I've gone and done."

In the poem, we learn a lesson from the truck driver who after 51 years knows clearly what lesson he did not learn early enough.

But what do we do with lessons we learn, but learn too late?

Snyder spent about twelve years studying Zen Buddhism in Japan. But most of our lessons learned are not learned in formal study or in classrooms.

A later poem of his directly addresses our writing prompt for this month.

What Have I Learned

What have I learned but
the proper use for several tools?

The moments
between hard pleasant tasks

To sit silent, drink wine,
and think my own kind
of dry crusty thoughts.

     �the first Calochortus flowers
     and in all the land,
              it's spring.
I point them out:
the yellow petals, the golden hairs,
              to Gen.

Seeing in silence:
never the same twice,
but when you get it right,

     you pass it on.


In "What Have I Learned," it is the voice of a older person looking at the lessons of their own life. Here, the lessons are small and the speaker is almost dismissive.

What have I learned but
the proper use for several tools?

That "but" is a kind of apology for what was learned. And yet, we know the speaker cherishes not only the lessons but the opportunity to pass them on. (In the poem, to Snyder's own son, Gen.)

And a second use of that "but" turns this around:

but when you get it right,
you pass it on.


Our prompt for this month is a poem about a lesson (or lessons) learned, either from someone else or on your own - but a lesson that was passed on to another.

The deadline for submissions to this prompt is January 6. 2013.