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Now I Become Myself by May Sarton – Famous poems
Fertile, detached, and always spent, Falls but does not exhaust the root, So all the poem is, can give, Grows in me to become the song, Made so and rooted by …
Source: allpoetry.com
Date Published: 1/23/2021
View: 4620
Now I Become Myself (poem) by May Sarton
“Now I Become Myself” is a beloved poem by May Sarton (1912 – 1995) that captures the spirit of a well-examined life.
Source: www.literaryladiesguide.com
Date Published: 8/10/2022
View: 4127
Now I Become Myself, by May Sarton – Awakin.org
There is nothing more important than becoming yourself. If there is a purpose to be, it is to become yourself, become all you are. For me, the meaning of being …
Source: www.awakin.org
Date Published: 8/9/2022
View: 6722
Now I Become Myself – Journey with Jesus
Now I become myself. It’s taken / Time, many years and places; / I have been dissolved and shaken, / Worn other people’s faces, / Run madly, …
Source: www.journeywithjesus.net
Date Published: 2/16/2021
View: 9137
Now I Become Myself by May Sarton – Potter’s Inn
Fertile, detached, and always spent, Falls but does not exhaust the root, So all the poem is, can give, Grows in me to become the song, Made so …
Source: www.pottersinn.com
Date Published: 5/1/2021
View: 6430
Now I Become Myself – The Atlantic
See this story as it appeared in the pages of The Atlantic magazine. Open. by MAY SARTON. Now I become myself. It’s taken. Time, many years and places; I have …
Source: www.theatlantic.com
Date Published: 2/19/2022
View: 1261
Now I Become Myself by May Sarton | The Writer’s Almanac …
Now I Become Myself … (What? Before you reach the morning? Or the end of the poem is clear? Or love safe in the walled city?) Now to stand still …
Source: writersalmanac.publicradio.org
Date Published: 4/22/2021
View: 6384
Parker J. Palmer – “Now I Become Myself” by May Sarton is …
No photo description available. … “Now I Become Myself” by May Sarton is one of my favorite poems. It has lots of moving parts, but I find all of them worthy of …
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Date Published: 7/27/2021
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“Now I Become Myself”: A Poem by May Sarton – Pinterest
Quotes. ¤ Poet Ponderings ¤ poetry, quotes & haiku – May Sarton: Now I become. Ase Méndez. 170 followers … “Now I Become Myself”: A Poem by May Sarton …
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주제에 대한 기사 평가 may sarton now i become myself
- Author: Colchester Arts Centre
- Views: 조회수 433회
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- Date Published: 2021. 2. 27.
- Video Url link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-udpP7lEBFs
Now I Become Myself (poem) by May Sarton
Now I Become Myself (poem) by May Sarton
By Taylor Jasmine | On May 30, 2016 | Updated December 30, 2020 | Comments (10)
“Now I Become Myself” is a beloved poem by May Sarton (1912 – 1995) that captures the spirit of a well-examined life.
How often do we, especially women, show up to life as someone other than our true self? We’re taught to be people-pleasers, so we wear the face and show the demeanor we think others will expect, instead of being who we truly are.
May Sarton was an American poet, novelist, and memoirist who spent a lifetime learning who she was. In her journals, best known of which are Plant Dreaming Deep and Journal of a Solitude, she explored isolation, love, relationships, sexual identity, success, failure, gratitude, nature, the seasons, and the joys and struggles of a creative life.
The 1993 collection of May Sarton’s poems (W.W. Norton, NY), encapsulates what she achieved with her body of poetry:
“Arranged chronologically, these poems reveal the full breadth of Sarton’s creative vision. Themes include the search for an inward order, her passions, the natural world, self-knowledge, and, in her latest poems, the trials of old age.
Moving through Sarton’s work, we see her at ease in both traditional forms and free verse, finding inspiration in snow over a dark sea, a cat’s footfall on the stairs, an unexpected love affair. Here is the creative process itself, its sources, demands, and joys – a handbook of the modern poetic psyche.”
. . . . . . . . . .
Self-Searching Quotes from Journal of a Solitude
(1937 Portrait of May Sarton by Polly Thayer Starr)
. . . . . . . . . .
Now I become myself
Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
“Hurry, you will be dead before—”
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!
— From Collected Poems 1930 – 1993 by May Sarton © W.W. Norton, 1993
. . . . . . . . . .
Collected Poems of May Sarton 1930 – 1993 on Amazon*
. . . . . . . . . .
*This is an Amazon Affiliate link. If the product is purchased by linking through, Literary Ladies Guide receives a modest commission, which helps maintain our site and helps it to continue growing!
Now I Become Myself, by May Sarton
Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
“Hurry, you will be dead before—”
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!
Journey With Jesus
Now I Become Myself
Selected by Dan Clendenin. Posted 24 January 2021.
May Sarton (1912-1995) Now I Become Myself Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
“Hurry, you will be dead before—“
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted so by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I love
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!
May Sarton (Eleanor Marie Sarton) was born in Belgium but moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1916 when her family fled the ravages of the war and her father took a part-time position at Harvard as a historian of science. After high school she forfeited a scholarship to Vassar and moved to New York City to study theater and acting. In her early twenties her theater ambitions died, and from that time forward she devoted her life to writing. The publication of her novel Mrs. Steven Hears the Mermaids Singing (1965) announced her gay identity, and from then on Sarton was claimed by feminists, women’s studies scholars, and lesbians. Although she appreciated the scholarly seriousness with which her work was taken, she resisted the label of a gay writer because she thought that it narrowed the broader focus of her work. In the 1980s Sarton’s poetry readings attracted standing room only crowds, although her early critical acclaim was later eclipsed by sometimes harsh reviews. By the time she died in 1995 she had published 53 books—19 novels, 17 collections of poetry, 15 works of non-fiction, and 2 children’s books.
Dan Clendenin: [email protected]
Now I Become Myself by May Sarton — Potter’s Inn
Now I become myself
Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
“Hurry, you will be dead before—”
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!
— From Collected Poems 1930 – 1993 by May Sarton © W.W. Norton, 1993
Now I Become Myself
by MAY SARTON
Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces,
Run madly as if Time were there
Terribly old, crying a warning,
“Hurry, you will be dead before — ”
(What? Before you reach the morning
Or the end of the poem is clear
Or love safe in the walled city.)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density.
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence.
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted so by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!
The Writer’s Almanac with Garrison Keillor
Listen
Now I Become Myself by May Sarton
Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
“Hurry, you will be dead before–”
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun! “Now I Become Myself” by May Sarton, from Collected Poems 1930-1993. © W.W. Norton, 1993. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)
On this day in 1917, the first Pulitzer Prizes were awarded. The Pulitzer is administered by Columbia University in New York, at the bequest of newspaper publisher Joseph Pulitzer, who also founded Columbia’s journalism school. When Pulitzer made out his will in 1904, he specified four awards in journalism, four in literature and drama, one in education, and four travel fellowships. The board has since attempted to stick to Pulitzer’s original intent, although they’ve added awards in poetry, photography, and music. In 1917, the award was given out in only four categories: Biography or Autobiography, History, Reporting, and Editorial Writing. It’s now awarded in 21 categories: 14 in journalism, six in letters, and one in music. The award has not been without its controversies. One charge commonly leveled is that preference is shown for journalism — especially commentary — with a liberal slant; 2010 winner Kathleen Parker claimed, “It’s only because I’m a conservative basher that I’m now recognized.” Janet Cooke and The Washington Post were forced to give up the 1981 Feature Writing prize when it was revealed that Cooke had fabricated her story of an eight-year-old heroin addict. And occasionally, the Pulitzer board overrules the jury’s choice; in 1963, the drama jury nominated Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? But the board objected to the play’s rough language and sexual permissiveness; they deemed it “insufficiently uplifting.” And though the three-member fiction jury unanimously recommended Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rainbow for the prize in 1973, they were overruled by the other 11 members of the board, who found the book “unreadable,” “turgid,” “over-written,” and “obscene.”
On this day in 1919, Congress approved the Nineteenth Amendment, giving women the vote. One could say that the American women’s suffrage movement began in 1776, when Abigail Adams asked her husband John to “remember the ladies and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors” when approving the Constitution. The movement grew hand in hand with the abolitionist movement; many women were active in both causes, and Frederick Douglass often spoke at women’s rights rallies. The proposed Fifteenth Amendment, granting voting rights to black men, caused a division in the suffrage movement’s leaders: Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony refused to support it because it didn’t grant the same rights to women; Julia Ward Howe and Lucy Stone argued that it would eventually lead to voting rights for all. Some states began extending limited voting rights to women in the latter half of the 19th century, and in 1869 two organizations — the National Woman Suffrage Association and the American Woman Suffrage Association — began campaigning for a constitutional amendments on the national and state levels, respectively. The United States Congress first introduced an amendment in 1878, and would continue to introduce it with every new Congress, but it took more than 40 years to gain the needed two-thirds majority to pass. In 1848, Elizabeth Cady Stanton wrote her “Declaration of Sentiments,” which wisely adopted the language of the Declaration of Independence in calling for voting rights for women: “When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one portion of the family of man to assume among the people of the earth a position different from that which they have hitherto occupied, but one to which the laws of nature and of nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes that impel them to such a course.
“We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men and women are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; that to secure these rights governments are instituted, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. Whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of those who suffer from it to refuse allegiance to it, and to insist upon the institution of a new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.” She concludes, “Now, in view of this entire disfranchisement of one-half the people of this country, their social and religious degradation — in view of the unjust laws above mentioned, and because women do feel themselves aggrieved, oppressed, and fraudulently deprived of their most sacred rights, we insist that they have immediate admission to all the rights and privileges which belong to them as citizens of the United States.”
On this day in 1973, Don Wetzel registered a patent for the automated teller machine, or ATM. He’s not the undisputed father of the ATM, however; there were several different people working on the idea at the same time, in Japan, Sweden, and Great Britain as well as the United States. American Luther George Simjian had filed a patent for a cash dispenser in 1960, and John Shepherd-Barron invented one for the British bank Barclays in 1967. Many of the early machines were limited in function, were accessed by single-use tokens or were linked to credit cards rather than a cash account. Working for the automated baggage-handling company Docutel, Wetzel and his colleagues Tom Barnes and George Chastain developed the ATM card as we know it today: a plastic card with a magnetic strip and an imbedded PIN code.
It’s the anniversary of the June 4th Incident, otherwise known as the Tiananmen Square Incident, in Beijing (1989). In the late 1980s, Chinese students and intellectuals began calling for economic and political reform in the wake of a period of great economic growth in China. The former general secretary of the Chinese Communist Party, Hu Yaobang, was also in favor of a more democratic China, but he was forced out of office in 1987. He died in April 1989, and on the day of his funeral, 100,000 students gathered in Tiananmen Square to demand reform; similar protests also arose in cities across China, but the Western media was already in Beijing to cover a visit by Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev, so the Tiananmen Square protests drew the most international attention. By May, about a million people were demonstrating. The government responded by issuing warnings to disperse, but to no avail. Martial law was declared in mid-May, but crowds of protestors blocked all avenues to the square and the army was unable to get through. Desperate to prevent anarchy, the government massed tanks and heavily armed troops overnight on June 3, and the next morning they rolled into Tiananmen Square, crushing or shooting anyone who stood in their way. Most of the protestors in the square fled and the military had complete control by June 5. The official Chinese government death toll was 241, with 7,000 wounded; other estimates place the number much higher.
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