"Night, and I Traveling," by Joseph Campbell

A short poetry-video of "Night, and I Traveling," by the Irish poet Joseph Campbell (1879-1944), not the myth/archetype scholar Joseph Campbell. Here is a link:

"Night, and I Traveling"

"I Walked in a Desert," by Stephen Crane

It appears I'm back to recording poetry for Youtube. This is a very short poem by Stephen Crane:

"I Walked in a Desert"

Quiet Whiteness

(for Walter Scott, South Carolina,  George Floyd, 
Minneapolis, and uncounted others)   


If you've ever asked yourself
what we did to deserve these
depraved politicians of ours,
you may have considered
genocide of the indigenous
people, slavery, Northern investment
in slavery, Jim Crow, Northern
acceptance of Jim Crow, lynching,
child labor, eugenics,
imperial lust, monopolies,
Chinese expulsion, Japanese
internment, anti-Semitism,
McCarthyism, the blasting of
air, land, water, and people.
We've done everything to deserve
the depraved, you might have thought
in a moment of clarity, or
in a moment of despair (same
difference?) 

White supremacy remains robust;
that is the truth. The President
is the Klan, except with more
power. Racism thrives
not just because of
psychopaths and the cynical
who bait them, but because of
quiet whiteness:

the indifference, the privileged
numbness, the excuses of whites
who know
better but cast out the knowledge
because it asks too much.
The smug passivity
of whites who won't educate
themselves. The endless string
of lame excuses, casuistry,
deflections, and weaselly rationales.

Quite whiteness likes these
politicians. Otherwise,
they would be intolerable
in 2015 or 2020 or
1950 or 2050. Any year.
So much would be
intolerable, including
quiet whiteness itself.

If you've ever asked yourself
when the white choruses will
stand up and sing, stand up and
shout, get up and make damn sure
this depravity's demolished,
maybe in a moment of clear
despair the word
(printed in white against
a black background)    'NEVER, '
came to mind. Don't
accept it.


hans ostrom 2015/2020

Life Is Just a Breath

Life is just a breath,

A breath in empty space,

Until love takes the breath

Away and to a different place.

hans ostrom 2020

Becoming a Spider

Maybe I'll turn
into a spider
at the end
and follow
the silk filament
up and up
all the way
into the clearest
sunny sky
I've seen
since childhood.


hans ostrom 2020

From A Diary of the Plague Year (15)

People are making
each other sick.
They're always
making each other sick,
and now the plague.

I'm sure in the lost
notes of Moses and
background material
for other religions
we'll find discarded
commandments,
entreaties, and revelations
along the lines of
Don't make each other sick.

A brainless virus is making
us make each other sick.
Hold the hubris.

After we corral this epidemic
(said the American), we need
a new treaty in which all
countries agree not to make
each other sick if they can
help it. They can help it.

I am convinced (and I
daresay so are you) that
in spite of recent setbacks
we're headed for a healthier
phase of so-called civilization.


hans ostrom 2020

He Carried Papers

He carried with him
a pouch full of papers
that showed he was among
God's most select people and
that others claiming to be
select were misinformed,
also doomed. In theological

arguments, he pulled the papers
out and cited them. It started
a trend. Everybody brought papers
representing holy favorable status.
It got to be a real paper-fight.

Which then spilled over into brawls,
mass expulsions, wars, and genocide.
It didn't take long. The violence
ran counter to what all the papers
said. Of course, you didn't need

to be God to see that all these
paper-carrying people were the same,
meaning nobody special or select
but all deserving dignity because
in fact they were all the same.


hans ostrom 2020

Nostalgia and Evolution

I wonder why Evolution
selected nostalgia as a trait
worth packing in perpetuation's
luggage. Maybe it's useful
to have people around who know
how things used to be done
(and never stop talking about them).

Sentimental yearning may lower
blood pressure. Or maybe those
who survive because of other
factors live long enough to have
a past to miss, so that nostalgia
just hitches a ride--which is something
people used to do all the time.
In fact, I remember . . . .


hans ostrom 2020

He Made a List

A bit of a tribute song, as it were, to folks who are a bit compulsive or obsessive, maybe both. It's called "He Made a List." Performance by Roger Illsley, who wrote the music. Lyrics by moi. A link to Youtube:

He Made a List (Illsley/Ostrom)

"That's the Day I'll Forget About You"

A rather traditional love ballad. Music and performance by Roger Illsley. Lyrics by moi. Link to Youtube:

"That's the Day . . ."

From a Diary of the Plague Year (14)

I've been saying
encouraging words
to my body. Telling it,
without evidence (this
is a national trend),
that it will fight the Virus
just fine if things should
come to that. My body

doesn't listen to me. I'm
unreliable. The body
has its own life, writes
its own memoir. It is
a republic of cells
devoted to an oxygen cult.
I'm not privy to the council's
deliberations on this virus.

Many times I have been
told, "Listen to your body."
Well, my body talks
too much. It's my turn
to be heard.


hans ostrom

Song: "Willie, the Babe, and Hank"

Another Illsley/Ostrom song, peformed by Illsley. It took root in Davis in the 1970s, which might as well be the 1870s at this point. Babe Ruth, of course, was long gone; Willie Mays (now 89) had just retired; and Hank Aaron was still going.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bULEpyf_MLY&t=18s

Song: "Solomon Fry"

Got back in touch with a former college roommate at U.C. Davis. (No doubt there's a lot of getting-back-in-touch these days). We've been working on some songs, me as lyricist and amateur video-maker,  he as composer and performer. This one is "Solomon Fry":

"Solomon Fry," Illsley and Ostrom