Calami
This irregular plural has some interesting meanings
Today’s New York Times Spelling Bee letters:

A, B, C, I, L, Y, and center M (all words must include M)
Merriam-Webster says…

Silly little dictionary! Don’t you know calami can’t possibly be a word if the New York Times says it ain’t?
For further fascinating facts, check out the Spelling Bee Master.
What’s your favorite dord* from today’s puzzle?
My Two Cents
Clearly Merriam-Webster’s definition of calami is not very clear if you don’t know what calamus means. So in the spirit of being helpful, I offer you this:

The dictionary explains that this word originated from the Greek kalamos, meaning “reed”. Which is why a long time ago the English word used to refer to the reed itself and the writing instrument made from it. The Hebrew language also borrowed that word from the Greek: the kulmus is the quill or reed used for the traditional writing of the Torah (Pentateuch) scrolls. Similarly, the pen used in Islamic calligraphy is called qalam. These pens are also a symbol of wisdom in Muslim culture.
Kalamos appears as a mythological figure in an epic poem by Nonnus of Panopolis a Greek poet of the Imperial Roman era who lived in the fifth century AD. And boy was his poem epic: it ran to 48 books! Among many other things it mentions, there is the story of Kalamos and Karpos, two youths (pronounced “utes” if you’re a lawyer named Vinny) who were competing in a swimming contest. Karpos drowned, so Kalamos did what infatuated, grief-stricken youths usually did back then, and allowed himself to drown, too. Then the Greek gods did what they usually do, and transformed him into a water reed. His eternal rustling in the wind was interpreted as a sorrowful sigh.
Lowercase c
I’ve mentioned already how calamus was a synonym of reed or cane, and the name of a writing instrument.
Today the word is mostly used when talking about quills, as it refers to the hollow shaft within the feather that serves as a reservoir for the ink.
Quills are made from the flight feathers of (preferably) large birds. Why the primary feathers? Well, as an example, here are the primary (left) and secondary (right) plumes of a buzzard. It’s easy to tell which one might make for a better writing implement.

Buzzard feathers aren’t commonly used to make quills, but goose feathers are. Swans, eagles, owls, and crows are also good sources. Feathers are not plucked, but rather obtained after the birds molt them.
Traditionally quills were made by stripping all or almost all the barbs from feather, leaving it bare. Fashion intervened at some point––as it usually does–– and quill makers began leaving some of the fluffy stuff at the top. But the instrument you see here…

…seems to be a modern invention not based on reality. You may argue that you can swear you saw such a pen in John Trumbull’s painting of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. To that I reply: wow, I’m impressed with both your memory and your eagle eye.

The quill on the far left (in Benjamin Harrison’s hand) seems to be a mostly-stripped version, but the one on the table, next to Benjamin Franklin’s arm, does resemble the quill in the photo I copy and pasted earlier. In any case, the two quills above may have come courtesy of Thomas Jefferson, who apparently bred geese for his extreme quill needs.
In simple terms, the quill pen is the hollow tube (calamus) of a feather. One end is closed, while the open end is hardened and extended into a sharp point into which a thin slit is carved.

That sharp point and slit were done with a pen knife (hence the name), which was repurposed when John Mitchell invented the relatively maintenance-free, mass-produced, steel dip nib in the 1800s. That spelled the end of the quill’s reign of almost nineteen centuries.
Today quills are mostly a matter of curiosity, although some calligraphy and history buffs still use them. In many cases the modern quills are fitted with metal nibs to protect their points, which do wear down.
Another lowercase “c” calamus is the sweet flag (Acorus calamus), also known as the muskrat root. It’s a flowering plant found in wetlands, used in traditional medicine to treat digestive disorders and pain.

According to some interpretations, American poet Walt Whitman used this plant to represent homoerotic love. Which brings us to…
Uppercase C
The “Calamus” poems… which could be called calami, I guess. Right?
They are a group of poems in Whitman’s best-known work, Leaves of Grass. This collection was initially published in 1855, but was continuously revised and republished over a period of more than three decades!
The collection contains some of Whitman’s top Billboard hits… if Whitman had written songs and Billboard had existed back then.
The Calamus poems were not published in the first edition, but were incorporated into the 1860 one. Set as a series of 45 poems, many experts believe they seem to narrate the story of a relationship between the speaker of the poems (Whitman?) and a male lover.
Here are a couple of stanzas:
(O here I last saw him that tenderly loves me — and returns again, never to separate from me, And this, O this shall henceforth be the token of comrades — this calamus-root shall, Interchange it, youths, with each other! Let none render it back!)
The calamus is mentioned there as an obvious phallic symbol, according to some. (Others posit that it was the myth of Kalamos being turned into a reed that inspired this collection of poems.)
Although there is no definite information about Whitman’s intimacy, many historians think Irish-born American transit worker Peter Doyle was indeed the love of the poet’s life.
In an 1895 interview, Doyle said: “We were familiar at once — I put my hand on his knee — we understood. He did not get out at the end of the trip — in fact went all the way back with me.”
Today Whitman’s sexuality would (thankfully) not be a big issue in many parts of the world. Where Whitman alive today in the United States, he’d have (1) the freedom to choose whether or not to sell his lyrics to music bands whose songs are in Billboard’s Top Ten; (2) the flexibility to market his poems with a major publishing company or self-publish his work online or in print; and (3) the freedom of being as sexually open or private as he wished, and shacking up with––or marrying––any adult he chose.
But 160 years ago, although Whitman still controlled options 1 and 2, he had no ownership about how his sexuality was viewed and handled. There was just no way to openly discuss his intimate life, especially if he was gay or bisexual (as some have suggested). Which is why Whitman was forced to use coded language to express his private desires in public poems.
You can read the 1860 version of the Calamus poems here:
Aside from the poems of Whitman, there are several other Calami with a capital C, mostly geographical names:
- Calamus, Iowa, United States
- Calamus, Wisconsin, United States
- Calamus Swamp, Ohio, United States
- Several creeks named Calamus
Despite al the different “calamuses” ––or calami–– we’ve discussed today… the editors of the Spelling Bee decided that the word calami is a dord*.
You can check out my previous entry on another dord* here:
*What the heck is a dord, you ask? Here’s the answer:
