Barbaric Yawp #1

"The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me...he complains of my gab and my loitering.

I too am not a bit tamed...I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world."

- Walt Whitman "Song of Myself" Leaves of Grass

Today's morning exercise was "learning to sound your barbaric yawp."
Inspired by Whitman's verse, we walked to a hill and gave our best yawps to the nature that surrounded us. Each writer then spent the next twenty minutes writing a short observation piece, commenting on the landscape and their place within it.

Here are two examples of their work.
- Ami McKay


The trees answer me with rustling leaves.
The dogs in the distance respond with barks and howls.
A bird flies away.
The flowers and grass appear to be smiling.
An empty wooden shack seems happy and full again,
no longer abandoned,
because my voice has filled it up with love and freedom.
I feel like a goddess,
I am free.
Bugs are buzzing around me,
the wind is at my face.
I am graceful.
My blanket flies behind me like a cape,
and now I am Superwoman.
These scraps, they are not garbage.
They are treasures. Nets, wood, a striped pole.
Everything tells a story.

by Ivy Charles




Observation through a lens is unfeeling and fake
to be real is to see your skin in the grass, and feel the wind on your body
to hear the earth speak and scream your response with the dogs
act like animals and become one
we are not made of clay, we are painted life surrounded by colours of perfection

by Ruby Reed