Definition of Angel

The poets of Pacifica Assisted Living Center in Santa Fe New Mexico and poet Joanne Dwyer created definition of Angel on November 20th, 2013. Model poems that were used in the session include: “In beauty may I walk,” Navajo – translated by Jerome K Rothenberg; “A List of Praises,” Anne Porter (Abridged); “Perhaps the World Ends Here,” Joy Harjo; “Te Deum,” Charles Reznikoff and “The Waking,” Theodore Roethke

Dwyer write about the sessions, “The theme of the session (because of Thanksgiving approaching) was gratitude and appreciation. The last two lines of the poem “A List of Praises,” are:

And with this poem, a leaf on the vast flood, And with the angels in that other country.

Which led me to ask the residents their definition of angel and hence came an unexpected poem, not just about gratitude, but angels. And the beautiful story that Wilbur shared from WWII. Wilbur, who at first, did not want to stay for poetry…”

Definition of Angel

A dark woman in a white cloud
wearing beautiful clothes.

White cloud with her floating around.
I wouldn’t know what to say to her.

Angels are little children.

Angel = heaven.

I have met the equivalent on earth many times.

I had an experience with angels in Israel.
My parents had died.
Things needed to be done, that I could not do.
Two weeks without food.
Suddenly a very tall, but young woman -
she wasn’t quite like we are.
She radiated love. "Where are you going, my little one", she asked.
"I am trying to get back to my father", I replied.

An angel is an angel.

There are many angelic people in the world
who are not self-serving.

A being that is beautiful and angelic.

I don’t know how many years ago,
in the war in the Pacific,
in the marine corps,
going from island to island
chasing the Japanese off...
Well, angels, I talked with -
maybe it was with angels.
I said, please spare me
and it helped.

Info on Joanne Dwyer

You may read Dwyer's work on the Poetry Foundation website. For info on her book, Belle Laide published by Sarabande Books

Poetry Project Helps Dementia Patients Live in the Moment

Here is the full piece on the APP which aired on Thursday, Sept. 12th. It was a blast to get to work with U.S. Poet Laureate Natasha Trethewey, Correspondent Jeffery Brown, Head of the Poetry and Literature Center at the Library of Congress, Rob Casper and Deputy Senior Producer, Anne Davenport. Hope you enjoy the segment!

MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK: UNGA POCH KID

MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK: UNGA POCH KID

There are purple flowers, orchids and grapes.
Purple is the color of Patricia's rain coat, the priests' vestments and wine.

Soft edges float with uncertainty like rain clouds.
Fog, cotton, marshmallows, mud.
Uncertainty, uncertainty.

Green is rough.
Green is smooth.
Green is a walk in the new mowed lawn

This poem was created as part of the "Meet Me at MoMA" project. The session was led by Museum Educator, Riva Blumenfeld. She had participated in staff training I provided at MoMA last year and she used some of the APP techniques in leading the session. She asked a series of questions: WHAT DO YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU LOOK AT THIS COLOR PURPLE?
THESE EDGES ARE SOFT LIKE...
IF I WERE TO TOUCH THIS GREEN SHAPE IT WOULD FEEL LIKE...
IF I WERE THE ARTIST I WOULD CALL THIS PAINTING...

The group's answers form the lines of the poem.

Riva and I reconnected last week at the Practice & Progress: The MoMA Alzheimer's Project Exchange and I was excited to learn from her that she had been using the APP techniques and having success.

Painting No. 3/No. 13 by Mark Rothko
Bequest of Mrs. Mark Rothko through The Mark Rothko Foundation, Inc.
© 1998 Kate Rothko Prizel & Christopher Rothko / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

APP in Wisconsin

Valentine's Dance

New York Memory Center & Alzheimer’s Poetry Project Present

Valentine’s Dance at the Memory Arts Café

Memory Arts Café is a new series of free art events for people living with Alzheimer’s disease, their caregivers and the general public and is co-produced by New York Memory Center and the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project. The series, which takes place on the 2nd Wednesday of each month, includes light refreshments and the opportunity to chat with the guest artists.

This Memory Arts Café event features the dance company Rhythm Break Cares (RBC). Poet Gary Glazner will host the event.

Wednesday, February 13th, at 6 pm

New York Memory Center

199 14th Street at 4th Avenue • Brooklyn, NY 11215

(Take the R to Prospect Ave.)

For info: call (718) 499-7701 or visit alzpoetry.com

Please join us for an evening of fun, dancing and socializing. Rhythm Break Cares (RBC) takes a unique and highly effective approach to address the widespread and immediate needs of individuals with Alzheimer’s, associated dementias, and their caregivers, by engaging them in partner dance as a means to improve their quality of life. Since 2009, RBC has successfully offered this interesting form of dance therapy, which capitalizes on the demonstrated benefits of music, movement and touch. Their sessions provide a rare opportunity for patients and their caregivers to escape some of the burdens associated with Alzheimer’s and dementia, in a stress-free environment where they can observe, participate and be entertained.

Ballad of the Happy Guitar

The poets of Sierra Vista Assisted Living created this poem on December 5th, 2012 with poet Gary Glazner.

Our model poem was Edward Lear's “The Owl and the Pussy Cat,” with its wonderful line “...the owl looked up to the stars above and sang to a small guitar.”

The daughter of one of the participants, the writer Abby Frucht had asked us to read a poem she had written for her mother, which we incorporated into our performance. That poem in the form of a letter is included below. We created the poem by asking the participants what makes them happy.

We took our cue from Abby’s poem and while performing the poem and we all strummed imaginary "air-guitars."

Ballad of the Happy Guitar
A happy guitar,
with my husband.
Everything makes me happy.
Anyone makes me happy.
To dance makes me happy.
The Owl and the Pussy Cat!
Having you here.
It’s nothing immediate.
The sound a mandolin
makes me happy.
My father played
the mandolin.
I want to dance some more!
When I am feeling well
and I have good people with me,
that makes me happy.

Dear Mom,

I remember a song called
“The Sad Guitar.”
You sang it
to Sylvia and Liz and Me
when we were little girls.
We loved it.
You strummed it for us
on an air guitar
whenever we wanted
to hear it.
The guitar was sad
but you make us happy.

Love,
Abby

Strumming Air Guitars