World-renowned Bardic Poet Visits Walmart in Knoxville, Iowa
Meet Joe Plum from rural Lovilia, Iowa
I’ve written about my friend Joe Plum before. Joe lives off the grid near Lovilia, south of Knoxville. Joe is a Bard. I saw him the other day at the Walmart in Knoxville, and he told me he had some news to share, so I took a video, and he shared that he has a National Endowment for the Arts and an Iowa Arts Council grant, and he is looking for venues that want to host him. The video, followed by a transcript, is below, but first, if you don’t know what a bard is, here you go:
A bard is a poet, traditionally one reciting epics and associated with a particular oral tradition. The Old English word beordd meant “poet, singer, seer”. In Celtic cultures, a bard is a professional storyteller, verse-maker, music composer, oral historian, and genealogist, employed by a patron (such as a monarch or chieftain) to commemorate one or more of the patron’s ancestors and to praise the patron’s own activities.
Bards were highly respected members of their communities, and their skills were in high demand. They were responsible for keeping the oral tradition alive, and they played an important role in preserving history and culture. Bards also used their skills to entertain and educate their audiences.
Joe is a highly respected member of our community. Learn more about the grants he was awarded here.
Please watch the video. You likely have never seen anything like it before. Especially at Walmart.
Below is a lightly edited transcript. The line breaks in the poetry are mine, and probably not where Joe wants them to be. Since he’s off the grid, I can’t ask him. Our entire relationship is based on chance encounters, and despite all odds to the contrary, we have them regularly.
Me: Hi everybody, this is my friend Joe Plum. He’s a bardic poet. Joe, what’s a bardic poet?
Joe: Uh, stream together words and rhythm, and rhyme in such a way that they’re paired dualisms, and it brings the mind into a state of being where it’s no longer in control, and the heart begins to listen.
Me: Now, you and I’ve known each other for years. You’ve done lots of poems spontaneously for me before, and a lot of people never seen anything like that. Could you do something for us? Maybe, something, you’ve got you do a lot of dreams. Can you do something on dreams?
Joe: Sure.
It’s only in our dreams that the water’s clear.
Life is big, and the sky is near.
It’s only in your dreams that you ever hear what it is that words really have to say.
Whereas the master gives, the giver takes, as the sleeper dreams,
The dreamer awakes to the certainty that life will never forsake the memory that awaits the unborn children of the human race.
And so if I say it once more in rhyme, after seeing life ignite 100 times, will I reveal with brightness in a thousand ways, a feeling that burns a candle of 10 million days.
For each succeeding generation, receives a repeating invitation to far exceed their own expectations by arriving at the realization that before perception, there is sensation.
Me: All right, and you’re a well-recognized poet and artist, painter, and you’ve got a grant, and you’re looking for venues that people might be interested in paintings and performance. What are you thinking about? First, tell us about the grant and what are you thinking about?
Joe: Mostly, just I’ve always wanted to say poems in front of people. Oral tradition poetry takes the listener into their own internal landscape rather than imposing one on top of them. And it’s a journey. It’s really good. People like it. My grandfather was a bard and his grandfather was a bard on both sides of my mom’s family in Wales for as far back as anybody can find.
Me: Okay, and where do you get the grant from?
Joe: The National Endowment of the Arts and the Iowa Arts Council. It’s my third major grant, plus a couple smaller ones that I spent time, uh, in Native America recording Native songs, but that’s another subject.
Me: Okay. And so, what kinds of venues are you looking for? Libraries?
Joe: Yeah, any place where I can just show up, and the last time I did it was in South Dakota at a memorial for a Native American Chief, and I just asked people to ask me questions and take it from there. The answers are usually poems.
Me: Okay, so I’m going to put you on the spot. We didn’t prep this or anything. Could you tell, do something about the first time you and I met?
Joe: How often have we as children walked hand in hand with our dreaming, shaping this to tomorrow like a plaything of little meaning. And yet again today in passing, we can give no proper sign of recognition until in the dust that death rejoining. But that sense of being enchanted by the joys of simple childhood, where as masters of the flame, we must view entire force for nothing more than firewood and keep ourselves in waiting for the coming of the winter, where the cold becomes a sinner and our bodies warm to the saint.
Me: Well, thank you and everybody...
Joe: Now that we’re older, right? (laughter)
Me: People should know that we’re here, a chance encounter at the Knoxville, Iowa Walmart. So…
Joe: Thank you, Bob
Me: Thank you, Joe.
So! If you want Joe to come to your venue and engage participants in ways they likely have never been engaged before, let me know at rdwleonard@gmail.com, and the universe will put Joe and me in contact again, like it always does, or email his daughter Emily Lupita at emilylupita@gmail.com.
Joe has a Substack called American Bardic Poet, which is curated by his daughter Emily Lupita.
Emily is a talented artist, too. She has a wonderful Substack newsletter titled Artist Travel Memoir. Please consider joining her on her journeys.
Here I want to give a special mention of our friend and fellow member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative member Beth Hoffman, author and farmer who works with the Iowa Food System Coalition (IFSC) on their deeply interesting At the Iowa Farm Table Podcast. The last episode of this first season is Chickenizing the American Food System: The loss of Flavor and Farms, and the Iowans Pushing Back, and it’s a fascinating discussion of vertical and horizontal integration, consolidation and chickens as “widgets.” If you want to know how our food system works, Beth tells us how by thoughtful research and interviews.
Beth and the Iowa Food System Coalition are doing outstanding work to provide a path to make our food systems better, healthier, and local.
According to their website, “the Iowa Food System Coalition (IFSC) is a network of more than 40 farm and food system partners representing farmers, government, universities, public health experts, food banks and pantries, public schools, and more. We see great possibilities in Iowa’s land and people, and at the Iowa Farm Table will explore how and why we can make Iowa’s food and farming culture a thriving, sustainable, and equitable food system.”
“Also please check out IFSC’s Setting the Table for All Iowans—a plan for Iowa’s food system for the next ten years, compiled with input from over 600 people. Coalition partners today are engaged in strategic reporting and planning, advancing policy development and advocacy, and raising awareness of the important food and farming work taking place throughout the state.”
And one last announcement!
If you’re a paid subscriber to at least one member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative, you can attend our upcoming holiday party for free. Otherwise, the cover charge is $35 at the door. Other details:
What: Iowa Writers’ Collaborative Holiday Party
When: 7 p.m. Wednesday, Dec. 17
Where: The Harkin Institute, 2800 University Ave., Des Moines
Who: Mingle with members and fellow supporters of the collaborative, and hear the wonderful music duo Weary Ramblers perform.
RSVP: Reserve your spot by Dec. 5.
I’m a proud member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative. Please check out our work here. I also publish Cedar Creek Nature Notes, about Violet the Dog and my adventures on our morning walks at Cedar Bluffs Natural Area in Mahaska County, Iowa.