Wednesday, October 4 \u00a0 If Grand River were a river,
\nElephants could drink from it
\nAnd I would wash my clothes
\nAmong its stones.<\/p>\n
With thanks to Rosemary, here is her post from February 26, 2014, a poem by one of Detroit Mercy\u2019s distinguished poet graduates, Al Ward.\u00a0 Al writes about Grand River Blvd, the southern border of the University neighborhood.\u00a0 Lots of familiar streets find their place in the poem. \u00a0She also explains why our university is home to a National Literary Landmark, a rare distinction nationally. \u00a0For the complete list see\u00a0http:\/\/www.ala.org\/united\/products_services\/literarylandmarks\/landmarksbyauthor\/landmarksbyauthor<\/a><\/p>\n Have a good week. \u00a0See you Friday.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n john sj<\/p>\n Today\u2019s Post\u00a0\u201cIf Grand River Were a River\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>\u00a0 (first posted Feb 23, 2015)<\/p>\n This week students submitted their entries for UDM\u2019s annual Dudley Randall Student Poetry Competition. The competition began while Randall was a librarian and poet-in-resident at U of D. He served as its judge for several years\u2014one of the many ways he inspired our student writers.<\/p>\n Those of us who know Randall primarily through his poetry and reputation as a publisher may be unaware of this aspect of his legacy\u2013his extraordinary generosity with and support of poets of all ages and walks of life. Broadside Press\u2019s extensive work with community writers continues this legacy.<\/p>\n In today\u2019s and tomorrow\u2019s posts I would like to share the work of three talented University poets whose work has been supported by Randall and Broadside Press.<\/p>\n The first author, Albert M. Ward, is a University of Detroit alumnus and well-known Detroit poet, activist, and educator. He often speaks of the transformative effect it had on him as a young African American boy to visit Dudley Randall in the public library near his home where Randall worked.<\/p>\n In Ward\u2019s poem, \u201cIf Grand River Were A River,\u201d we can hear echoes of Randall\u2019s love of our city. We hear, too, Ward\u2019s own rich, powerful voice taking us somewhere new.<\/p>\n Rosemary Weatherston <\/p>\n \u201cIf Grand River Were A River\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n There are no waterfalls on Dexter Blue and transparent At Parkman Library If Grand River were a river, Grandmothers would say, I remember that summer of \u201c67, If Grand River were a river, Woodward and the boulevard, market place Mt. Kilimanjaro is greater If Grand River were a river, Wednesday, October 4 \u00a0 If Grand River were a river, Elephants could drink from it And I would wash my clothes Among its stones. With thanks to Rosemary, here is her post from February 26, 2014, a poem by one … Continue reading
\nDirector, Dudley Randall Center for Print Culture<\/p>\n
\nBut when it rains
\nThe street shimmers like glass
\nAnd Oakman Boulevard
\nBecomes a rainforest,<\/p>\n
\nThe sky over Dexter
\nIs bright in summer,
\nThe sun washes the savannahs
\nAnd sidewalks in golden hues,
\nIn a barbershop on Dexter
\nI learned to play checkers.<\/p>\n
\nMy bicycle was stolen.
\nHad my African warriors
\nBeen with me,
\nWe would have drummed
\nOn our shields,
\nWalked through the tall grass
\nAnd found my bicycle.<\/p>\n
\nI would walk along its banks
\nFrom village to village,
\nIf Grand River were a river,
\nChildren could dance at water\u2019s edge,
\nDances of freedom.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cCarry these groceries, boys,
\nOne day you\u2019ll make fine young men.\u201d
\nWe\u2019d walk Dexter sometimes
\nTo Elmhurst or Fullerton
\nOr across Davidson to Clements
\nAnd Pasadena,
\nHad lots of friends on
\nEwald Circle and Kendall.
\nThe grandmothers would tell stories
\nAnd give us lots of fifty cents.<\/p>\n
\n43 people died they said,
\nA civil disturbance,
\nBusinesses burned on 12th Street,
\nHouses in Pingree,
\nTanks chewed up the alley
\nBehind the garage of my Aunt Sweet,
\nLooters running through her backyard
\nTerror, smoke and ashes,
\nNot to be denied . . .<\/p>\n
\nTrees would grow rich and lush
\nLike baobobs, their roots thick,
\nIf Grand River were a river,
\nI would be free.<\/p>\n
\nWhere villagers and neighbors come
\nTo trade, to greet,
\nI see watercolours of silk
\nAnd broadcloths, women
\nWith their bundles walking,
\nThe Elders with their sticks.<\/p>\n
\nThan the Fisher building
\nWith snow like crystal,
\nSilver at its crest,
\nThe sun sleeps there
\nWhen the moon is round and full,
\nEast or west of Woodward . . . I am home.<\/p>\n
\nElephants could drink from it
\nAnd I would wash my clothes
\nAmong its stones.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"