American Folk Songs

& Ballads

Shenandoah

The American Folk Experience

Shenandoah

by John Fitzsimmons | The American Folk Experience

~Traditional 

Oh, Shenandoah, I long to hear you,
Way hey, you rolling river.
Shenandoah, I long to hear you
Ha ha, we’re bound away ‘cross the wide Missouri.

Oh, Shenandoah, I love your daughter
Wey hey, you rolling river.
Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughter
ha ha, we’re bound away ‘cross the wide Missouri

Missouri she’s a mighty river…
When she rolls down, her topsails shiver…

Seven years, I courted Sally…
Seven more, I longed to have her…

Farewell, my dear, I’m bound to leave you…
Oh, Shenandoah, I’ll not deceive you…

Child Ballad #

If you have any more information to share about this song or helpful links, please post as a comment. Thanks for stopping by the site! ~John Fitz

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

I am indebted to the many friends who share my love of traditional songs and to the many scholars whose works are too many to include here. I am also incredibly grateful to the collector’s curators and collators of Wikipedia, Mudcat.org, MainlyNorfolk.info, and TheContemplator.com for their wise, thorough and informative contributions to the study of folk music. 

I share their research on my site with humility, thanks, and gratitude. Please cite their work accordingly with your own research. If you have any research or sites you would like to share on this site, please post in the comment box.  Thanks!

Source: Wikipedia

This article is about the American folk song. For other uses, see Shenandoah (disambiguation).
"Shenandoah"
"Shenandoah" as performed by the Singing Sergeants of the United States Air Force Band
Problems playing this file? See media help.

"Oh Shenandoah" (also called "Shenandoah", "Across the Wide Missouri", "Rolling River", "Oh, My Rolling River", "World of Misery") is a traditional folk song, sung in the Americas, of uncertain origin, dating to the early 19th century.

The song "Shenandoah" appears to have originated with American and Canadian voyageurs or fur traders traveling down the Missouri River in canoes and has developed several different sets of lyrics. Some lyrics refer to the Oneida chief Shenandoah and a canoe-going trader who wants to marry his daughter. By the mid 1800s versions of the song had become a sea shanty heard or sung by sailors in various parts of the world. The song is number 324 in the Roud Folk Song Index.

Other variations (due to the influence of its oral dispersion among different regions) include the Caribbean (St. Vincent) version, "World of Misery", referring not to an "Indian princess" but to "the white mullata".[1][2]

History

Until the 19th century, only adventurers who sought their fortunes as trappers and traders of beaver fur ventured into the lands of the indigenous peoples as far west as the Missouri River. Most of these French colonial "voyageurs" in the fur trade era were loners who became friendly with, and sometimes married, Native Americans. Some lyrics of this song heard by and before 1860 tell the story of a trader who fell in love with the daughter of the Oneida Iroquois chief Shenandoah (1710–1816) who lived in the central New York state town of Oneida Castle. He was a co-founder of the Oneida Academy which became Hamilton College in Clinton, New York, and is buried on the campus grounds.

["Shenandoah"] probably came from the American or Canadian voyageurs, who were great singers ... . In the early days of America, rivers and canals were the chief trade and passenger routes, and boatmen were an important class. Shenandoah was a celebrated Indian chief in American history, and several towns in the States are named after him. Besides being sung at sea, this song figured in old public school collections.

— W.B. Whall (1910)[3]

The canoe-going fur-trading voyageurs were great singers, and songs were an important part of their culture.[3] In the early 19th century flatboatmen who plied the Missouri River were known for their shanties, including "Oh Shenandoah". Sailors heading down the Mississippi River picked up the song and made it a capstan shanty that they sang while hauling in the anchor.[4] This boatmen's song found its way down the Mississippi River to American clipper ships—and thus around the world.[5]

The song had become popular as a sea shanty with seafaring sailors by the mid 1800s.[6] A version of the song called "Shanadore" was printed in Capt. Robert Chamblet Adams' article "Sailors' Songs" in the April 1876 issue of The New Dominion Monthly.[7] He also included it in his 1879 book On Board the "Rocket".[8] "Shanadore" was later printed as part of William L. Alden's article "Sailor Songs" in the July 1882 issue of Harper's New Monthly Magazine,[9][10][11] and in the 1892 book Songs that Never Die.[12] Alfred Mason Williams' 1895 Studies in Folk-song and Popular Poetry called it a "good specimen of a bowline chant".[13]

Percy Grainger recorded Charles Rosher of London England singing Shenandoah in 1906 and the recording is available online via the British Library Sound Archive.[14] A recording sung by former shantyman Stanley Slade of Bristol, England, in 1943 is also publicly available.[15]

In a 1930 letter to the UK newspaper The Times a former sailor who had worked aboard clipper ships that carried wool between Australia and Great Britain in the 1880s said that he believed the song had originated as an African American spiritual which developed into a work song.[a]

One of the first popular singers to record it was Paul Robeson, who released several versions from the 1930s onwards.[17]

Lyrics

Since "Shenandoah" was a riverman's and then sailor's song and went through numerous changes and versions over the years and centuries, there are no set lyrics. Modern variations may include[citation needed] lyrics such as the following:

Earlier versions

Charles Deas' The Trapper and his Family (1845) depicts a voyageur and his Native American wife and children

Lyrics from prior to 1860, given by Whall (1910)[3] were reported as follows:

Missouri, she's a mighty river.
Away you rolling river.
The redskins' camp, lies on its borders.
Ah-ha, I'm bound away, 'Cross the wide Missouri.
The white man loved the Indian maiden,
Away you rolling river
With notions[b] his canoe was laden.
Ah-ha, I'm bound away, 'Cross the wide Missouri.
"O, Shenandoah, I love your daughter,
Away you rolling river.
I'll take her 'cross yon rolling water."
Ah-ha, I'm bound away, 'Cross the wide Missouri.
The chief disdained the trader's dollars:
Away you rolling river.
"My daughter never you shall follow."
Ah-ha, I'm bound away, 'Cross the wide Missouri.
At last there came a Yankee skipper.
Away you rolling river.
He winked his eye, and he tipped his flipper.
Ah-ha, I'm bound away, 'Cross the wide Missouri.
He sold the chief that fire-water,
Away you rolling river.
And 'cross the river he stole his daughter.
Ah-ha, I'm bound away, 'Cross the wide Missouri.
"O, Shenandoah, I long to hear you,
Away you rolling river.
Across that wide and rolling river."
Ah-ha, I'm bound away, 'Cross the wide Missouri.

J.E. Laidlaw of San Francisco reported hearing a version sung by a black Barbadian sailor aboard the Glasgow ship Harland in 1894:[18]

Oh, Shenandoah! I hear you calling!
Away, you rolling river!
Yes, far away I hear you calling,
Ha, Ha! I'm bound away across the wide Missouri.
My girl, she's gone far from the river,
Away, you rolling river!
An' I ain't goin' to see her never.
Ha, Ha! I'm bound away, (&c.)[c]

Lyrics to "Oh Shenandoah" as sung by Tennessee Ernie Ford (1959):

Oh Shenandoah, I hear you calling,
Hi-o, you rolling river.
Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you,
Hi-o, I'm bound away.
'Cross the wide, Mis-sou-ri.
Mis-sou-ri, She's a mighty river,
Hi-o, you rolling river.
When she rolls down, her topsails shiver,
Hi-o, I'm bound away,
'Cross the wide, Mis-sou-ri.
Farewell my dearest, I'm bound to leave you,
Hi-o, you rolling river.
Oh Shenandoah, I'll not deceive you,
Hi-o, I'm bound away.
'Cross the wide Mis-sou-ri.

Modern usage

The song is popular in local organizations such as Shenandoah University, Southern Virginia University, Washington and Lee University, Virginia Tech and the Virginia Military Institute.

"Shenandoah" was proposed as the "interim state song" for Virginia in 2006 with updated lyrics.[19] The proposal was contentious because the standard folksong refers to the Missouri River and in most versions of the song the name "Shenandoah" refers to an Indian chief, not the Shenandoah Valley or Shenandoah River, both of which lie almost entirely in Virginia.[19][20]

"Our Great Virginia" which uses the melody of "Shenandoah" was designated by the Virginia Legislature as the official traditional state song of Virginia in 2015.

In the movies it is featured in the soundtrack of the 1965 movie Shenandoah, starring Jimmy Stewart. It is also heard repeatedly in 1947's Mourning Becomes Electra, and as part of a medley in the 1962 film How the West Was Won. As a sea chanty, it is heard in Java Head (1934). Choral arrangements of the song have been used in the films The Good Shepherd and Nixon.

Members of the Western Writers of America chose it as one of the Top 100 Western songs of all time.[21]

Various arrangements by Percy Grainger have been recorded by John Shirley-Quirk and other classically trained singers. "A song of the waters: variations on the folksong Shenandoah" is a classical composition by James Cohn. At least one version was arranged by Leslie Woodgate.[22]

The song is featured in the Fallout series, being played on Appalachia Radio in the game Fallout 76.

Selected notable recordings

See also

Footnotes

  1. ^ This chantey is obviously of American origin ... . 'Shenandoah' was more a wool and cotton chantey than a capstan chantey. I have many times heard it sung down the hold on the wool screws by the Sydney waterside workers ... and many were full-blood negroes, who undoubtedly brought these chanteys off the cotton ships ... . With regard to the words, these vary according to the taste of the chantey man in the first and third line of each verse, there being no effort called for on these two lines, but the second and fourth lines were always the same, these being the rhythm lines on which the weight was used. When I was in the wool trade in the eighties, in both The Tweed and Cutty Sark this chantey was daily used on the wool screws. — R.L. Andrews (1930)[16]
  2. ^ Old “notions” = modern “knick-knacks”.
  3. ^ Brookington added his informant Laidlaw had later heard it sung "almost word for word as the sailor of Harland sang it" in 1926 at Monterey Presidio by a captain of the 9th U.S. Cavalry, and that this regiment, though officered by whites, was made up largely of black troopers. Brookington speculated, therefore, the song was originally a negro spiritual.[18]

References

  1. ^ Version sung by The Chicago based folk duo of Jacquie Manning and Rich Prezioso
  2. ^ [1] Archived 2022-01-17 at the Wayback Machine California State University, Fresno, Folklore Department]
  3. ^ a b c Whall, W.B., ed. (1913) [1910]. Ships, Sea Songs, and Shanties. collected by W.B. Whall, Master Mariner (First 1910, Third 1913 ed.). Glasgow – via Archive.org.{{cite book}}: CS1 maint: location missing publisher (link)
  4. ^ "Shenandoah" Archived 2014-10-22 at the Wayback Machine. BalladofAmerica.com. Retrieved August 21, 2016.
  5. ^ In a 1931 book on sea and river shanties, David Bone wrote that the song originated as a river chanty or shanty, then became popular with seagoing crews in the early 19th century. (David W. Bone (1931). Capstan Bars. Edinburgh: The Porpoise Press. OCLC 896299.)
  6. ^ The Times. September 12, 1930. p. 8, column B.
  7. ^ Capt. R. C. Adams (April 1876). "Sailors' Songs". The New Dominion Monthly. Montreal: John Dougall & Son: 262. Retrieved March 27, 2014.
  8. ^ Robert Chamblet Adams (1879). On Board the "Rocket". D. Lothrop. p. 317. Retrieved March 27, 2014.
  9. ^ "About "Shenandoah"". Song of America Project. Library of Congress. Retrieved 2010-03-06.
  10. ^ "Sailor Songs", Harper's New Monthly Magazine, vol. 65, no. 386, p. 283, July 1882
  11. ^ "Harpers New Monthly Magazine from 1882". ebooks.library.cornell.edu. Retrieved September 29, 2012.
  12. ^ Buck, Dudley. Songs that Never Die. B. F. Johnson, 1892. p. 36.
  13. ^ Alfred Mason Williams (1895). Studies in Folk-song and Popular Poetry. London: Elliot Stock. pp. 5–7. ISBN 9780848228811. {{cite book}}: ISBN / Date incompatibility (help), as reprinted in Alfred Mason Williams (2005). Studies in Folk-song and Popular Poetry. BiblioBazaar. ISBN 978-0-559-78728-7.
  14. ^ "Shenandoah - Percy Grainger ethnographic wax cylinders - World and traditional music | British Library - Sounds". sounds.bl.uk. Retrieved 2023-06-23.
  15. ^ "Stanley Slade, Bristol (Kennedy 1950 and BBC 1943) - Peter Kennedy Collection - World and traditional music | British Library - Sounds". sounds.bl.uk. Retrieved 2020-08-24.
  16. ^ Andrews, R.L. (19 September 1930). "Shenandoah". The Times (letter). London, UK. p. 6.
  17. ^ Cheal, David (9 October 2017). "Shenandoah — a song steeped in history and mystery". Financial Times. Retrieved 2023-01-03.
  18. ^ a b Brookington, A.A. (12 September 1930). "A letter from A.A. Brookington of Liverpool". The Times (letter). No. 45616. relaying a report by J.E. Laidlaw, of San Francisco. p. 8. col B.
  19. ^ a b Sluss, Michael (March 2, 2006). "Proposed state song doesn't bring down the House". The Roanoke Times. Archived from the original on September 11, 2012.
  20. ^ "Virginia Searches For A New State Song". NPR.org. Retrieved 2016-10-23.
  21. ^ Western Writers of America (2010). "The Top 100 Western Songs". American Cowboy. Archived from the original on 19 October 2010. Retrieved 9 August 2014.
  22. ^ British Library (1 January 1987). The Catalogue of Printed Music in the British Library to 1980. Saur. ISBN 978-0-86291-359-5.
  23. ^ "Paul Robeson - Shenandoah". lost.fm. Retrieved 2023-05-11.
  24. ^ Friedwald, Will (2017). The Great Jazz and Pop Vocal Albums. Pantheon. p. 306. ISBN 9780307379078.
  25. ^ a b c d e f Margotin, Philippe; Guesdon, Jean-Michel (2020). Bruce Springsteen: All the Songs: The Story Behind Every Track. Octopus. p. 660. ISBN 9781784727253.
  26. ^ Elphland, John (December 1999). ""Keith Jarrett: The Melody At Night, With You"". Down Beat. Retrieved 23 August 2024.
  27. ^ Caligiuri, Jim (July 28, 2000). "Cowboy Nation: A Journey Out Of Time". Austin Chronicle. Retrieved 2023-01-26.
  28. ^ "Cowpunk Survivors". OC Weekly. January 18, 2001. Retrieved 2023-01-26.
  29. ^ "Duluth - Trampled by Turtles". AllMusic. Retrieved 2024-07-24.
source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oh_Shenandoah

Source: Mainly Norfolk

Shenandoah

[ Roud 324 ; trad.]

Brian Mooney, Glen Tomasetti or Martyn Wyndham-Read sang Shenandoah in 1965 on their Australian album Will Ye Go Lassie Go?, and Martyn Wyndham-Read sang Shenandoah in 1984 on the album The Old Songs, accompanied by a chorus of John Kirkpatrick, Martin Carthy and Maggie Goodall.

Don McLean with a chorus of Gordon Bok, Jon Eberhard, Bob Killian, Pete Seeger and Andy Wallace sang Shenandoah in 1774 on the album Clearwater.

Jolly Jack sang Shenandoah in 1988 on their Fellside album A Long Time Travelling.

Richard Greene and Jack Shit sang Shenandoah in 2006 on the anthology of pirate ballads, sea songs and chanteys, Rogue’s Gallery.

Future Pilot A.K.A. and Karine Polwart sang Shenandoah in 2007 on the former’s album Eyes of Love.

Barbara Brown and Keith Kendrick sang Shanandore in 2012 on the anthology of songs of John Short collected by Cecil Sharp, Short Sharp Shanties Vol. 2. The anthology’s notes commented:

A shanty that is usually sung very freely—despite it’s being invariably cited as a capstan or windlass shanty. Sharp comments that “The tune is always irregular in its rhythm” and notated Short’s version in 3:2 varying into 2:2. However, Short’s beautiful version works perfectly and regularly (as it would need to for capstan work) if notated in 2:4—and sounds no different!

Another anecdote of Short is worth recounting here: Several years after he had initially introduced his parishioner, John Short, to Cecil Sharp, the Rev. Alan Brockington—by now a vicar in Liverpool—wrote to The Times in response to a discussion about the origins of Shenandoah, going on to say that: “I visited Mr. Short again in 1928. My wife was with me, and I asked him to sing Shanadar for her benefit. He said: ‘I don’t know as I like Shanadar.’ I wondered why he did not like the song, and then I remembered that that we had omitted from the published book one line he had sung in 1914, on account of its—well, unsuitability. Mr. Short seeing a lady was present and being too old to change his words at a moment’s notice, escaped from his embarrassment by saying that he did not like the song. Whereas in 1914, it was the only tune that, of his own proper volition, and without any remark from Cecil Sharp, he had praised.” The line, duly noted in Sharp’s notebook and faithfully recorded on the CD is, of course:

Oh Shanadar, I love your daughter
I love the place she makes her water.

Hugill commented that: “This is one of the shanties collectors have always thought to be clean, but when crossed, as it often was, with Sally Brown(owing to her having a daughter like Shenandoah) not even the most broadminded collector could call it clean.” Yankee Jack’s version does court Sally, but never descends to filth—unless, of course, Short was hiding behind his frequent ‘bound away’ verses! Most collectors tend to make similar comments to Terry, who did not publish Short’s version, but wrote: “This is one of the most famous of all shanties. I never met a sailor to whom it was unknown, nor have I ever found any two who sang it exactly alike. This version (sung to me by Capt. Robertson) is almost, but not quite, identical with the one I learnt as a boy. Shenandoah (English seamen usually pronounce it ‘Shannandore’) was a celebrated Indian chief after whom an American town is named. A branch of the Potomac river bears the same name. The tune was always sung with great feeling and in very free rhythm.” So you pays your money, and you takes your choice—but we’ve come to really like John Short’s version of the tune—sung here with a regular capstan timing!

Lyrics

Martyn Wyndham-Read sings Shenandoah

Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you,
Away, you rolling river.
Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you,
Away, I’m bound to go ‘cross the wide Missouri.

Oh Shenandoah, I took a notion,
Away, you rolling river.
To sail across the stormy ocean,
Away, I’m bound to go ‘cross the wide Missouri.

Oh Shenandoah, I’m bound to leave you,
Away, you rolling river.
Oh Shenandoah, I’ll nor deceive you,
Away, I’m bound to go ‘cross the wide Missouri.

Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughters,
Away, you rolling river.
I love the music of your waters,
Away, I’m bound to go ‘cross the wide Missouri.

‘Tis seven long years since last I saw you,
Away, you rolling river.
But Shenandoah, I’ll never grieve you,
Away, I’m bound to go ‘cross the wide Missouri.

Oh Shenandoah’s my native valley,
Away, you rolling river.
Beside her waters I love to dally,
Away, I’m bound to go ‘cross the wide Missouri.

Oh Shenandoah’s a lovely river,
Away, you rolling river.
And I shall not forget you ever,
Away, I’m bound to go ‘cross the wide Missouri.

Links

See also the Mudcat Café thread Origin: Shenandoah.

Performances, Workshops, Resources & Recordings

The American Folk Experience is dedicated to collecting and curating the most enduring songs from our musical heritage.  Every performance and workshop is a celebration and exploration of the timeless songs and stories that have shaped and formed the musical history of America. John Fitzsimmons has been singing and performing these gems of the past for the past forty years, and he brings a folksy warmth, humor and massive repertoire of songs to any occasion. 

Festivals & Celebrations Coffeehouses School Assemblies Library Presentations Songwriting Workshops Artist in Residence House Concerts Pub Singing Irish & Celtic Performances Poetry Readings Campfires Music Lessons Senior Centers Voiceovers & Recording

““Beneath the friendly charisma is the heart of a purist gently leading us from the songs of our lives to the timeless traditional songs he knows so well…”

 

Globe Magazine

Join Fitz at The Colonial Inn

“The Nobel Laureate of New England Pub Music…”

Scott Alaric

Adventures in the Modern Folk Underground

On the Green, in Concord, MA Every Thursday Night for over thirty years…

“A Song Singing, Word Slinging, Story Swapping, Ballad Mongering, Folksinger, Teacher, & Poet…”

Theo Rogue

Songcatcher Rag

Fitz’s Recordings

& Writings

Songs, poems, essays, reflections and ramblings of a folksinger, traveler, teacher, poet and thinker…

Download for free from the iTunes Bookstore

Now Available on iTunes!

“A Master of Folk…”

The Boston Globe

Fitz’s now classic recording of original songs and poetry…

Download from the iTunes Music Store

Now Available on iTunes!

“A Masterful weaver of song whose deep, resonant voice rivals the best of his genre…”

Spirit of Change Magazine

“2003: Best Children’s Music Recording of the Year…”

Boston Parent's Paper

Fitz & The Salty Dawgs Amazing music, good times and good friends…

Listen here

TheCraftedWord.org

Writing help

when you need it…

“When the eyes rest on the soul…that’s Fitzy…”

Lenny Megliola

WEEI Radio

Shane

by | August 12, 2014 | Fires in the Belly, Songs | 0 Comments

It’s been too long feeling sorry for myself.
It’s been too long with my life up on the shelf.
Sometimes wish that I was Shane—
shoot Jack Palance, and disappear again;
don’t have no one
don’t want no one
don’t miss no one:
living lonely with a saddle and a gun.

Read More

Yesterday did not become a poem

by | July 9, 2017 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

Nothing became something else; No thoughts filled my head With wonder or wisdom. Listless sky. Jumbled frames. Fleeting images: Chattering squirrels, Distant rumbling Of rush hour traffic. Today I am more determined, But all that is left Is the promise Of...
Read More

The Right Side of the Inevitable

by | July 27, 2016 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

  Like birds of a feather, we gather together, 'Cuz they're feeling exactly like you... ~John Prine   I am not afraid of being a white minority. I had lunch today with a Jamaican drummer, a Ugandan farmer, and a Senagalese potter. I don’t say this out of...
Read More

Make Something out of Something

by | February 26, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

It's hard to make chicken salad out of chicken manure      Dirty hands are a good sign, so hopefully, you got some mental mud on your hands and created some content to work with today.  To a starving man, any food is good food--unless it...
Read More

The Snow

by | July 13, 2014 | Poetry, Raccoon | 0 Comments

has dropped a seamlessness before the plows and children can patch it back to a jagged and arbitrary quilting putting borders to design and impulse. I imagine myself falling everywhere softly, whispering, I am here, and I am here.
Read More

If you don’t stand, you cower…

by | July 19, 2019 | Journal | 0 Comments

     Maybe it is time to be less forgiving. I have rarely agreed with our president, but I held on to the shreds of truth that shore up his arguments: we can’t welcome every immigrant who makes it to our border; we cannot bow to the audacity of corrupt governments in...
Read More

Garden Woman

by | August 12, 2014 | Fires in the Belly, Songs | 0 Comments

I woke today and had my tea
and at the window spent the morning:
the same scene I’ve seen so many times
is each day freshly born;
from the ground I turn each spring and fall
come the flowers sweetly blooming;
you disappear among the weeds—
you are the garden woman.

Read More

Goathouse

by | July 12, 2014 | Poetry, Raccoon | 0 Comments

In reaching for the scythe I’m reminded of the whetstone and the few quick strokes by which it was tested— the hardness of hot August; the burning of ticks off dog backs. It’s winter now in this garage made barn, and the animals seem only curious that I’d be here so...
Read More

This new spring begs attention

by | March 22, 2019 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

And shivers its literal timbers. Cold, wet and pleading, Scarred by winter winds And pasty snows, My small field and patch of woods Is now a monument To aging neglect. Shorn limbs and branches Hang high and tangled in the Sugar maples (Widow makers we called them Back...
Read More

Dallas: 7/7/2016

by | July 8, 2016 | Journal | 0 Comments

I woke up this morning almost too fearful to read the news. I stayed up late into the night just watching for the breaking stories and updates. Now, I am simplyconfused about how to act. I feel incredibly small and pointless, unsure of where I stand and how to move...
Read More

Weeds

by | August 8, 2014 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

  Somewhere locked in this choke of weeds spread like a mangy carpet is the hardened vine of Pipo’s Concord Grape he planted in an eager spring three years ago. Gasping for air and sun and water perhaps it has found some way to hide from my flailing hoe and the...
Read More

No Dad To Come Home To

by | August 26, 2014 | Dawghouse, Songs | 0 Comments

Rain’s falling outside of Boston—
Thank God I’m not working tonight.
I’ve got six of my own,
And a stepdaughter at home,
And a momma keeping things right.
I wonder if they’re at the table
With their puzzles, their papers and pens?
When I get off the highway
And pull in that driveway,
Will they run to the window again?

Read More

Chores

by | May 15, 2016 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

The day sometimes slip away from me, a huge pine half-bucked in the backyard, the kids old tree fort cut into slabs, a ton of coal waiting to be moved in a train of buckets to the bin. Sipping cold water on the back deck, sharpening the dulled teeth of a worn...
Read More

There is in an easiness

by | June 8, 2018 | Journal | 0 Comments

When I begin to think of myself. My girded shell squeezing Oysters in a jar; My oily viscera Jammed and joggled Into impossible places. My pancreas Is never where it should be; My esophagus cut cleanly Swirls in a diaspora. My tongue is a trapped In a tangle of...
Read More

Close Your Eyes and See

by | April 9, 2016 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

      A lot of things in life fall short of the mark, but thoughtfulness has never let me down. For some forty years I have faithfully kept journals of the wanderings of my mind—most of which is lost in some way or another, but the effect hangs on like a sailor...
Read More

Thanksgiving

by | July 30, 2014 | Poetry | 0 Comments

I am surprised sometimesby the suddenness of November:beauty abruptly shedto a common nakedness--grasses deadenedby hoarfrost,persistent memoriesof people I’ve lost.It is left to those of us dressed in the hard barky skin of experienceto insist on a decorumthat rises...
Read More

China Journal: Part Three

by | July 30, 2015 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

III My teachers could have ridden with Jesse James For all the time they stole from me... ~Richard Brautigan, Trout Fishing in America      Today it was a temple built into the mountainside west of West Lake. Mr. Toe drove us out there. In most ways I just follow Rob...
Read More

Goathouse

by | May 23, 2014 | Poetry, Raccoon | 0 Comments

Goat house In reaching for the scythe I’m reminded of the whetstone and the few quick strokes by which it was tested-- the hardness of hot August; the burning of ticks off dog backs. It’s winter now in this garage made barn, and the animals seem only curious that I’d...
Read More

A Redemptive Moment

by | November 15, 2013 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

I see the clock ticking towards 7:00. The kids are deep in their weekday world of homework, juggling soccer balls around the house, watching TV, but I am in my “got to rally” and get to the inn mode that happens very Thursday. Tonight I am tired. I’ll admit it, but...
Read More

The Blathering of Teachers

by | March 4, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

To succeed, jump as quickly at opportunities  as you do at conclusions. ~Benjamin Franklin             Maybe we are born more to ignore than to listen. I understand too well how easy it is to ignore the blatherings of teachers. I was a master of it once myself, so why...
Read More

To a teacher

by | November 14, 2019 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

This shift from fall to winterIs the cruelest month:Long days and nightsIn a blather of responsibility’s I hoist from a murky holeAnd sort and siftOn a messy desk. I pity my students who trembleMy red pen of vengeance;Who wait with fetid thoughtsFreighted by what they...
Read More

Raccoon

by | July 14, 2014 | Poetry, Raccoon | 0 Comments

I’ve stopped the chinks with newspaper and rags wedged tightly against the wind blowing cold three days now. I feed the fire and curse its hissing and steaming mixing green oak with sticks of dried pine calling myself Raccoon grown fat in the suburbs sleeping in...
Read More

Denise

by | August 14, 2014 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

There is something about coming hometo this empty house, yesterday'sheavy downpours scouringclean the alreadyweathered deckwhere I sitwishing for,wanting,you.
Read More

A Priori

by | May 24, 2016 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

How do I know what I know? The sharp angles of this simple cottage perfected  in every board sawn, shingle split and beam hewn into place goes together placed, splined, slid together, bound more by intuition than knowing.
Read More

Trawler

by | August 12, 2014 | Fires in the Belly, Songs | 0 Comments

Leave the fog stillness
of a cold harbor town;
cup our hands
in the warm diesel sound—
leave while the children
are calmed in their dreams
by light buoys calling:
“Don’t play around me.”

Read More

Dealing with Ether

by | August 12, 2014 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

Trying to only see what is in front of me my eyes are continually drawn away from this page and the work left to be done— my labored words etched and scratched away like fleeting mosaics in dry sand. I need a windowless cell to work the alchemy that shapes the...
Read More

Another Day…

by | July 7, 2016 | Journal | 0 Comments

I've been somewhat lax about posting in here of late, but I have been giving myself a bit of a break from writing. In fact, I spent the last month or so just living--and that has been just fine with me. I set a simple goal for myself this summer to get in shape. PJ...
Read More

Essex Bay

by | August 12, 2014 | Fires in the Belly, Songs | 0 Comments

This house makes funny noises
When the wind begins to blow.
I should have held on and never let you go.
The wind blew loose the drainpipe.
You can hear the melting snow.
I’ll fix it in the morning when I go.
I’ll fix it in the morning when I go.

Read More

Paris: 11/13/15

by | November 14, 2015 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

It is a sad day for humanity. Another sad day on top of many others happening every day--many in places we hear about only obliquley and sometimes not at all. Paris is that much closer to home for most of us here and in Europe, but freedom and tolerance has to...
Read More

Weekend Custody

by | August 21, 2014 | Out of the Forge, Songs | 0 Comments

Jesse calls up this morning—
“You can come downstairs now;
You see the grapefruit bowl?
Well, I fixed it all;
I fixed everything for you.”

Everything’s for you…

“Let me help you make the coffee,
Momma says you drink it too.
I can’t reach the stove,
But I can pour it, though—
What’s it like living alone?”

Read More

Ghetto of Your Eye

by | November 11, 2015 | Fires in the Belly, Journal, Songs | 0 Comments

A Veteran's Day Remembrance I wrote this song back in the winter of 1989 in the dining car of a steam driven train, somewhere along the Trans-Siberian railway, after meeting a group of Russian soldiers fresh from battle in Afghanistan—that poor country that has been a...
Read More

Kampuchea

by | July 14, 2014 | Poetry, Raccoon | 0 Comments

I stutter for normality across the river from black men fishing for kibbers and horned pout. Barefoot children rounded bellies curled navels stalk the turtle sunning on a log. lonely in the field grass lonely on the curbstones I stutter for normality. Not a mother...
Read More

The Storm of Fallibility

by | October 29, 2017 | Journal | 0 Comments

       One good cigar is better than two bad cigars, or so it seems right now. It is a beautiful and stormy night--pouring rain and howling wind, and I thought a good smoke would be a fitting end to a busy and over-booked week. As it goes, I bought a couple of cheap...
Read More

Going Google?

by | July 1, 2014 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

When you find yourself in the majority, it's time to join the minority ~Mark Twain I have to admit, Google is pretty impressive. The whole set of features that are offered to the public and to educators for free is pretty astounding: email, document creation and...
Read More

Zenmo Yang Ni

by | August 12, 2014 | Fires in the Belly, Songs | 0 Comments

I lost the time I hardly knew you,
half-assed calling:
“How you doing?
Laughing at my hanging hay field;
I never knew the time
that tomorrow’d bring,
until it brung to me.

Yuan lai jui shuo: “Zenmoyang ni?”
Xianzai chang shu: “Dou hai keyi”;
Xiexie nimen, dou hen shang ni.
Xiwang wo men dou hen leyi
Dou hen leyi

Read More

Let It Snow, Let It Snow…

by | February 2, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

You can't kill time without wounding eternity. ~Henry David Thoreau       Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...but don't let it totally define your day. Most of us see a snow day as an unexpected vacation day, though really what it is could be called "a day of...
Read More

Know Thyself…

by | September 29, 2017 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

Writing a Metacognition Know Thyself… Explore, Assess, Reflect & Rethink If we don’t learn from what we do, we learn little of real value. If we don’t make the time to explore, reflect and rethink our ways of doing things we will never grow, evolve and reach our...
Read More

Ghetto of Your Eye

by | August 12, 2014 | Fires in the Belly, Songs | 0 Comments

I wrote this song back in the winter of 1989, in the dining car of a steam driven train, somewhere along the Trans-Siberian railway, after meeting a group of Russian soldiers fresh from battle in Afghanistan—that poor country that has been a battleground for way too long.

We stare together hours the snow whipped Russian plain—
rolling in the ghetto of your eye.
We share a quart of vodka
and some cold meat on the train—
you know too much to even wonder why;
I see it in the ghetto of your eye.

Read More

The Enigma

by | August 11, 2014 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

Black Pond is not as deepas it is dark, dammedsome century agobetween ledges of granite and an outcropping of leaning fir, huckleberry, and white pine. For years I have paddled and trolled;swam, fished, sailed and sometimessimply tread water in the night trying to...
Read More

A Perfect Mirror

by | February 11, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

Do not mistake the finger pointing at the moon for the moon itself~BuddhaLast night you were so lucky. You didn't have to worry about your grumpy, tired teacher going through hours of journals ands doling out poor grades for what I am sure qualifies for good efforts...
Read More

Contact John Fitzsimmons...and thanks!