If you haven’t been reading Qarrtsiluni’s latest edition, Mutating the Signature, you’re missing out on a revolution sweeping poetry on the web. Editors Dana Guthrie Martin and Nathan Moore have assembled an inspired group of poems, songs, visual art, video, and recordings, all created in collaboration. Each piece has multiple authors, and comes with process notes that reveal the inner workings of multiple minds.
Guthrie Martin is also the founding member of The Poetry Collaborative, where several poets, including Moore, work together to write, often revising in plain view. They’ve even been known to write their poems on places like twitter and facebook.
Dave Bonta, managing editor and co-founder of Qarrtsiluni, is a pioneer in sharing creative writing on the web. His journal is one of the few that publishes author recordings of most of the poems and short stories on the site. It comes as no surprise that he would be one of the first editors to publish an entire edition devoted entirely to collaborative works.
The Atlanta poetry scene has a gift, and his name is Collin Kelley. Actually, Collin is a treasured friend to poets and writers all over the globe, from England to France (setting of his soon to be released novel, Conquering Venus, Vanilla Heart Publishing), to many parts of the United States.
I first contacted Collin after reading his work in MiPoesias’ The Oldest Profession. Wowed by his poems included in that issue, I shyly asked him if he would be willing to contribute a poem or two to the first issue of ouroboros, and not only did he do just that, he also spread the word about the magazine to some of the best poets in Atlanta. Jo and I will be forever grateful to Collin.
Since this past summer, I’ve found out about all kinds of poetry readings and events that Collin organizes and promotes in our city. The latest was a fabulous reading by Cherryl Floyd-Miller, who shared poems from her new collection, Exquisite Heats, Salt Publishing, 2008.
Floyd-Miller gave an entertaining, moving reading of a wide variety of poems, including villanelles, prose poems, and a new form called the Bop. After the reading she took questions from the audience, explaining her outlook on poetic form. She said that she studies the works of the poets who have come before her, and has learned the forms, but reserves the right to break the rules to allow her own voice to come through. It was validating to hear her words, because she gave voice to some of my own ideas about learning from the writers who have come before me, and about rule breaking.
Floyd-Miller spoke about the integral role music plays in her life and her work, and how it stems from her father’s gift for gospel singing. She also explained how she developed the art of listening from the Gullah language of the US southeastern coastal area where she grew up as a child. Her poems flow with a melodic, tongue rolling energy that casts a spell over the listener. She makes it seem effortless, and reads in a natural, spontaneous manner – she explained that music is such a basic part of her life that the rhythms have infused themselves into her writing.
Floyd-Miller acknowledged her long-standing friendship with Collin Kelley, stating he had been one of the first to read the manuscript of Exquisite Heats, and how happy she was to launch her new collection in Atlanta, with Kelley as the host.
If you want to find out about the next poetry event in metro Atlanta, make sure you check out Collin’s blog. In the meantime, maybe you’d like to write a bop? Floyd-Miller has used lines from songs as the refrain in her bops, a detail which she shared with us at the reading. I think I’m going to try one myself. Any song suggestions?
Terry Gross, host of National Public Radio’s show Fresh Air, interviewed poet Natasha Trethewey the day before Barack Obama’s inauguration.
During the interview Trethewey speaks as both a poet and as a biracial American. Terry Gross asks Trethewey what it means for her to live in a country with a biracial president, highlighting how 40 years ago interracial marriage was against the law in her native state of Mississippi. As I listened to the interview, it naturally came to mind the current struggles gay Americans are now living, and the discrimination they face in their desire to marry. Will it take another 40 years for all Americans to enjoy equal civil rights?
The interview is fourteen minutes long, but in the first three minutes Trethewey recites her poem, My Mother Dreams Another Country, from her collection Native Guard, for which she won the Pulitzer prize in 2007.
If you follow this link to Online NewsHour you can read and listen to Myth and Miscegenation, also from her collection Native Guard.
Natasha Trethewey teaches poetry in metro Atlanta, at Emory University. Maybe I’m biased toward a poet from my hometown, but I must say Natasha Trethewey would have made an excellent choice to write a poem for Barack Obama’s inauguration, not only because of her skill as a poet and a historian, but also because of her melodic voice. Which is not to slight Elizabeth Alexander, who I think did a wonderful job, considering the challenges she faced.
Edward Byrne, on his blog One Poet’s Notes, discusses the various responses to Alexander’s poem, and he includes the video of her performance, as well as her finished poem. There’s also a long banner of comments from different writers that might be of interest.
Scour the bathroom, the kitchen,
spray tiles with a film of diluted bleach,
wipe them with a rag once used to towel
off my diabetic dachshund, who now sniffs
leaves in the yard, eyes milky, a canine Tiresius.
On hands and knees, I scrub the floor,
try to erase stains I had once taken
for prefab designs on ceramic,
working to end this cleansing,
to conquer the scullery, at least for today.
In the laundry room I strip off sweaty
jeans and T-shirt, slink naked and shy
through the empty house to the shower,
a rinse and fresh clothes before grounding
my feet on the mat, folding into child’s pose.
Push up to hands and knees, curl onto the balls
of my feet, press with palms, sitting bones
pointed at the ceiling, shoulders broad
in Adho Muhka Svanasana, Downward Facing Dog.
Deep breaths of relief. Later in the yard
the dachshund tilts his furry hind parts
toward the sky, widens his ribs toward the earth,
sneezes twice, zigzags around a tree stump.
Even without his sight, he knows where home
is, does not hope to see past this moment.
***
I wrote this poem about two months ago. Even then I knew my dog was very sick, but I thought we might still have another few years with him. But the little guy died on Sunday afternoon. My son Freeboarder said, “he did everything in his life he was meant to do.”
In my dreams there’s a house on fire,
and though I try to translate the flames into syllables,
the hiss and pop aren’t recognized this side of sleep,
in my head there’s a bed of rivers, murmuring a language I don’t speak.
And though I try, I still can’t translate the flames into syllables.
The meaning of dogwood petals floating along
in my head, a bed of rivers, murmuring a language I don’t speak,
whispers, the click of heels in empty rooms. When I’m there I know
the meaning of dogwood petals floating along –
but now those places are phonographs engraved by a midnight shaman,
whispers, the click of heels in empty rooms. When I’m there I know
the lay of that tribal in between, where specters dance with tambourines.
But now those places are phonographs engraved by a midnight shaman,
the hiss and pop aren’t recognized this side of sleep.
The lay of that tribal in between, where specters dance with tambourines,
in my dreams, there’s a house on fire.
During January I get very sleepy, just like a possum or a bear. Three things help shake off the lethargy: creativity, laughter, and long walks in the sunshine. I can’t take you on a walk with me, but I can share a few things that might make you smile.
Do you admit to others that you watch American Idol? I won’t tell anyone, I promise. But you must go to Collin Kelley’s Modern Cofessional to read his ‘snark’ as he calls it, about last night’s program. Collin has a tradition of blogging about Idol, so stay tuned for his appraisals each week during the season.
I have a post up at Read Write Poem about how I began making video poems. There’s a link to a video I made for qarrtsiluni. Why not let a video poem be your next fun project? Or, I dare you to record yourself reading a poem, and post it to your blog. Hey, maybe I’ll do that. But first I need to get out of my bathrobe and go for a walk.
Do you prefer static images to write about? There’s an image prompt at Read Write Poem for you. We have everything you need for writing poems these days. One-stop poem shopping.
One of my favorite new sites is Postal Poetry. I usually submit one or two postcard poems a month to Dave and Dana, and they’ve been most gracious in publishing my wee lines. Here’s a link to the latest, called ‘The little robot that couldn’t.’ After you see the photo, you’ll understand how Dana’s friend Feldman inspired me to write.
This postcard poem below was too small for Postal to use (I took it with my cell phone), so I thought I’d post it here. The photo is a detail of of the Crown Fountain in Millennium Park, by Jaume Plensa
Jo and I are revving up for a new reading period forouroboros. We are thrilled with the success of the first issue – over 2,500 readers to date, and hope for continued interest in the project. Head over to our submissions page to read the particulars of when, where, and how to send us your poems and artwork.
spiral by grzesiek
The lovely and talented Dana Guthrie Martin has published a poem I wrote for her project, Shore Tags. The website, a blending of science, literature, and art, publishes poems and and articles that touch on the plight of hermit crabs and how they are having a tough time finding new shells to live in as they grow bigger.
There are so many social and spiritual parallels between humans and the other animals that inhabit the planet with us, but the little hermit crab is an especially endearing creature that has elicited some wonderful poems by children and adults alike. Dana has gathered all kinds of ideas involving shells, poems, photographs, links, and lesson plans for teachers.
Of course, Shore Tags is only one of Dana’s many projects. The latest one involves poetry, Seattle, and brothels. I’m not sure, but feather boas might be a part of this too.
It’s January and I have blog-itis. Post election, post holiday blog-itis. I’m sure some of you have experienced this dreaded malaise, in which the fingers on the keyboard don’t know where to begin. My own particular life is very mundane, not dramatic, at least not on the outside. Should I write about what kind of salad I prepared last night, or how I cried after I took down the Christmas tree? Or how all I want to do these days is play Scrabble on my computer, read, and write driveling, whining rants in my journal, stuff I hope will one day be recycled and turned into a cardboard box?
I have been reading some great poetry lately. Next to my computer rests my first copy of 32 Poems, Volume 6, No. 2, published and edited by Deborah Ager, and I’ve got to say, it’s the best $14.00 I’ve spent on poetry in over a month. I’m not familiar with the names of all the poets included in this volume, but of course I recognized Billy Collins, whose tiny poem The Pencil is almost what I’d call a cameo, as it turns the very words of the poem into a metaphor in the quintessential style Collins is known for.
The name David Bottoms is also well-known to me, since he comes from my neck of the woods in Georgia. His poem, Walking the Floor Over You, has that Southern twang to it, with references to honky tonks, cotton mills, cowboys, and beer, a poem I can relate to, about a woman swinging her bony hips (although mine are curvy) who needs to hear the same song over and over. It’s a poem with empathy.
There is a wide variety of poems included in this round number of 32. There are sonnets, a villanelle, a prose poem, free verse, a poem about lymph nodes (gooey and very good), one about bats, diminutive, and another about pineapples.
The Toads and Thumbelina, Hans Christian Andersen, Fairy Tales
The second and third poems, starring Thumbelina’s mother, captured my imagination the most. They are both modern sonnets, with slant rhyme, except at the final couplet. I love poems that mess with the rules. But even more, I love how the author, Bernadette Geyer, entered into a secret world and made it come alive for me. She went inside Thumbelina’s realm and painted the myth, as if on a miniature Flemish canvas in egg tempera, with all it’s dark, psychic power.
Yes, I think I’ll renew my subscription to 32 poems, in case anyone is wondering. What an exciting life. Feeling much better now.
Balanced On the Edge 