Tuesday, January 12, 2010


chelsea loves wendell berry. she introduced him to me and i, too, love him now. here is a poem of his to which she linked me a while ago:

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

this pushes back the cynical thoughts that i collect over the days, the weeks. brings back the hope on which i have to live if i am ever to do anything, to be anything, worth doing and being. it makes me feel like i will be able to fall asleep before 2:30 tonight.

the image is mine from the vegetable plot adventure


Chelsea said...

aw, i was excited for a new poem. oh well. :)

i was reading this earlier. i found it ironic that john mackey mentioned wendell berry in an interview recently, and this poem specifically came to mind. it makes no sense.

Carlene said...

That's one to save.

Brittany Noel said...

Sorry Chels! As I read "Home Economics", I'm sure I'll end up posting stuff from that... The more I learn about John Mackey, the weirder he is.

Carlene, I (clearly) completely agree with you.

Lisa at Lil Fish Studios said...

Just the thing I needed to read this (disgruntled, disheveled, disheartened) day. It makes me want to go roll around on the forest floor.

Brittany Noel said...

Me too, Lisa! I feel like it nourished me. I think I need to read this kind of thing often. It's easy for me to get caught up in the negatives...