Transcript
A (0:00)
Hi, I'm Samuel L. Jackson. You've taken my grandfather from me. You've taken my uncle, my aunts, even my mother. Enough is enough. See, my generation has something different. Hope the Alzheimer's association leads the way to end Alzheimer's and all other dementia, providing care and support, driving research breakthroughs and promising new treatments. Donate today@alz.org hope and join Generation Hope.
B (0:36)
I'm Major Jackson and this is the Slowdown. My first whale sighting happened in the Atlantic, near Cape Cod. I convinced my son a move to Provincetown for a year would be great for us. New grade school for him, a community of artists for me. He would experience a beach quite different than Long beach island in touristy Atlantic City. But the clincher was that he would see marine life, whales, sharks and seals anytime he wanted. Well, three hours into our first whale watching trip, we saw nothing. Just a placid ocean with a few fishing boats. We spent our time playing 20 questions and eating bags of Cheetos. I was suffering seasickness from the rocking. Like the rest of the kids. I could see Langston getting bored. A naturalist on the loudspeaker occasionally shared some facts about the sea. Such as did you know a newborn humpback whale weighs 1.5 tons? Just when the guide began to apologize and to promise a free pass on a future outing, 70 or so people ran to the port side of the boat. A whale breached the surface of the Atlantic and spouted water. I wondered if the whale was a mechanical creation. And yet the vast sea makes even a whale seem tiny against the depths. Today's poem probes into the ocean within the self, the mysteries of love. 52 Blue by Sappho Stanley Forlani. I love you. And it's like this. In the ocean a well sings blue. 52 defined untranslatable to all other wells. A dying language. It's a party. Fact swapped around with a response expected. Like how sad it must be the name we've given her. Futile call. Sounds like a football play. 52 Blue Hut Hut. I like to imagine her voice bouncing around an ocean cavern, filling the ears of whales, crabs and fucked up creatures. And they imagine a God. Like how humans named the constellations first and then figured out they were stars. She deserves this solitary power. Did I mention we've never seen her? Her voice is like a party you can only see the shadows of through a stained glass. Red like a blue trumpet. God, I want to live in the notebook of a dancer. Those steps dreamt up like a sonnet of the feet God, is it okay if I've decided I need other gods? I need truth beauty like still urns and my legs planted on earth. I've been stuck in a worship position for too long. Eventually I need my purpling knees to glow with the answer. Songs unheard by anyone else still matter I'm figuring out if they do. I've been searching for truth in beauty like the pathetic 52 blue call of my well yes, my well Beauty truth I was meant to find you during the pinkest summer and you were meant to hear my 52 blue and here is my Rosetta stone Every hello has been an inviting red and every poem has been a Please never leave me the Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. This project is also supported in part by the National Endowment for the Arts. On the web@arts.gov to get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter and find us on Instagram. SlowdownShow the slowdown is written by me, Major Jackson. Our lead producer is Micah Kilbaugh and our associate producer is Maria Wartell. Our music is composed by Alexis Cuadrado, engineering by Josh Savage. Our digital producer is James Napoli. Additional production help by Susannah Sharpless, Jess Miller and Lauren Humpert. Our executives in charge of APM Studios are Chandra Kavati and Joanne Griffith. Give your loved ones the gift of poetry this year with Poetry Magazine. Poetry's gift bundle includes a one year print and digital subscription to the magazine, plus a limited edition tote bag. Your loved ones will receive 10 beautifully curated volumes of contemporary poetry and unlimited digital access through the Poetry Magazine app. It's a gift that lasts all year. Subscribe today@poetrymagazine.org slow that's poetrymagazine.org slow.
