The Zingara Project

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  • Poe Acrostic Prompt

    For today’s prompt, write an acrostic poem (that doesn’t suck) based on your lover’s first name. Here is one written by Edgar Allan Poe to use as inspiration.

    An Acrostic
    by Edgar Allan Poe

    Elizabeth it is in vain you say
    “Love not” — thou sayest it in so sweet a way:
    In vain those words from thee or L.E.L.
    Zantippe’s talents had enforced so well:
    Ah! if that language from thy heart arise,
    Breath it less gently forth — and veil thine eyes.
    Endymion, recollect, when Luna tried
    To cure his love — was cured of all beside —
    His follie — pride — and passion — for he died.

  • The Baltimore Catechism – Unrequited Love by Roy Beckemeyer

    The granite girl stands to recite.

    Catechism quotes limn the inside
    of her eyelids.

    Her fingernails
    spike her hands to her thighs.

    She prays for Rorschach stigmata
    to stain her virginal palms.

    Her insatiable need
    is for the sainthood of white doves.

    Her face aches
    for the crescent moon purity
    of wimple and coif.

    “The desire for God is written
    in the human heart,” she intones,
    thinking all the while
    I am a good Catholic girl,
    I am God’s innocent girl,
    I am the girl of the incised granite heart.

    —

    Roy Beckemeyer of Wichita, Kansas has most recently had poems accepted by the periodicals America, The Lyric, and The Journal of Civic Leadership and the anthology To The Stars Through Difficulties.

  • Object History Prompt

    Thanks to Jenn Givahn for today’s poetry prompt:

    Pick an object–a can opener, a doorknob, a football–and imagine its history. Where was it made? How did it get there? Who has it belonged to? What adventures did it experience? Write a poem that tells the history of the object. You might even try it in first person, from the object’s perspective.

    (adapted from “The Observation Deck” by Naomi Epel… a cool prompt book that incorporates drawing cards).

  • January haiku by Frank Higgins

    past the gorging gulls,
    a few more baby turtles
    hurry to the sea
    —

    Frank Higgins has had productions of his plays across the country.   He is the author of two books of poetry, and two books of haiku.  He lives in Kansas City, Mo.

  • Modern Ode Prompt

    Thanks to Erin Adair-Hodges for today’s poetry prompt inspiration:

    Today’s prompt is to write an ode. Not a classical or even English ode, which follow particular formats, but rather, just write a poem in praise of something. Except, since we’re post-post-post, not really. Write an ode to something not usually praised or for which you have, at best, mixed feelings. Here is a great example, Kevin Young’s “Ode to the Midwest.”

    This exercise is inspired by my trip to the dentist today. There were kitten posters on the ceiling.

  • January Photographs by Mary Dudley

    January looms large-
    a huge floe on the sea
    of the early year.
    Thick, translucent ice
    under which the crocus sleep.

    January mornings dawn
    as a pink blush in a crystalline sky.
    The sun warms as hours pass
    but noon still glares, brilliantly cold.

    January’s dusk descends early
    and its sun burns orange and red
    setting behind the bare-branched tangle
    of the back-yard trees.

    January’s cold thickens
    as the world darkens:
    It seeps under the door frame,
    pushes us into the circle of
    the warmest room,
    hangs over the haven of our bed
    like a cold fog
    that morning won’t burn off.

    January looms large—
    a month to reckon with.

    —

    Mary Dudley has written poems since childhood. She studied poetry before moving to NM in 1968, and changing her professional focus to family and child development. She’s published two chapbooks and her work has been included in the Rag, the NM Center for Peace & Justice Newsletter and calendar, la Llorona, Sin Fronteras, and 200 New Mexic Poems.

  • Questions Prompt

    Thanks to Rebecca Aronson for today’s awesome prompt:

    Today’s prompt: a question poem.

    For this poem, write only questions. Let each question lead your mind to the next question–these can be as loosely or closely associative as you feel like. The questions need not be answerable, but they should feel to you like real questions. I suggest at least ten questions on the list.

    (once you have a list of at least ten questions, you might find that the list is a kind of poem itself, or you might decide to choose one or more of the questions, or their possible answers to write from.)

    Have fun!

  • The Problem with the Perfect Space

    The characteristics of a perfect creative space are as varied and subjective as are the myriad individuals who utilize them. What makes an ideal space for one may be abhorrent for another. One writer may prefer the solitude of a quiet room with a closed door while another prefers the white noise and human bustle typical of the neighborhood café. One painter may prefer En plein air while another longs for the consistency of the indoor studio. Too, such preferences alter in response to related personal needs and emotional states.  Perhaps yesterday the objective was to get out of the house and away from the dirty dishes, making the coffee shop, where the dishes are someone else’s concern, more conducive to working. Tomorrow the concern may be reducing caffeine intake and limiting sugary snacks, making the library a more attractive choice. Artists intuit this about themselves and constantly adjust to get their creative work done.

    Artists also know that physicality of space is important to the creative process. The painter/sculptor must be able to make a mess; the musician must make noise without raising the ire of neighbors; the photographer must have space to store and use specialty equipment; and the writer must have something hard on which to write or a place to set the computer upon which she types. In developing one’s place of creativity, it may be useful to know that quiet is generally considered more conducive to creating than noise, that large spaces dissipate energy and small spaces channel it, that distractions can prove homicidal to focus. But more importantly is intention to create.

    One of the ways artists undermine their intentions to create is to focus on acquiring a perfect creative space – even waiting to create until everything about a space is perfect. Manuscripts are postponed until the perfect house on the perfect lane with the perfect view are purchased, occupied and decorated. Musical arrangements delayed until the ideal music studio secured. Great paintings left imaginary until just the right cooperative opens up. Then, once the perfect space is acquired, the artist becomes paralyzed by that very perfection. The writer is so stunned by the view beyond the windows of their dream writing space they never write a word. The painter becomes afraid to make a mess in their newly built studio with its hardwood floors. The sculptor becomes distracted by loft-mates and other artists in the cooperative she joined. The perfect space, then, is just another way perfectionism can thwart an artist’s efforts.

    The intention to create, then, is at least as important as one’s creative space.  Is it really the thought of those dirty dishes that interferes with creating, or is it fear of facing the blank page, empty canvas or block of stone? Is it fear of success? Or is the thought of those dirty dishes a distraction meant to delay the creative process and temporarily keep the ego comfortable? Will the perfect creative space really make you better at creating, or will the act of creating make you better at creating?

    Take into consideration other professions in which lack of distractions is crucial to success. You would not want your dentist to be distracted by a stunning view while performing your root canal. Give the same level of focus to your creative work by providing your creative process with as much consideration as a surgeon gives the patient beneath his scalpel.

  • Song for Aishan by Wayne Lee

    Red candles, red roses around you now—
    scatter of petals across the floor, on your coat
    like paw prints against the snow, curl
    of birch bark, bed of fox fur under your head.

    Aishan, Kirgi for Moon Heart, grandson
    of the wind and moon—we sing your crossing
    on a renegade gust.

    Shanadii—shaman granddaughter of Geronimo—
    named you stonecarrier of her Earth circle,
    gifted the stone in a medicine pouch,
    placed it on your chest as you lay in repose.

    Today in this circle of stone, this cycle of wind
    and moon, we sing Ohila—Apache crossing song—
    sing it to the six directions.

    You crouched at the edge, waited for your two-legged
    to let you go, so you could cross
    from her arms, a Bodhisattva in wolf body—
    carried on the wind, gray legs twitching as in dreamtime.

    ***

    Wayne Lee (wayneleepoet.com) is an educator/journalist living in Santa Fe, NM. Lee’s poems have appeared in Tupelo Press, The New Guard, Sliver of Stone, Slipstream, and other publications.

  • Interview with Maryfrances Wagner

    Maryfrances PhotoI post today’s long-in-coming interview with great pleasure.

    Maryfrances Wagner is exceptionally active in the Kansas City poetry community and contributes countless hours and energy supporting, directing, and generally overseeing innumerable activities and events at The Writers Place. I know her to be a dedicated, passionate individual and have had the genuine pleasure of working with her on a few projects. She is as serious about fundraising as she is about teaching and writing, has a  witty sense of humor and, being a woman after my own heart, enjoys a glass of wine after a job well done. Please enjoy today’s featured interview following  a selection of Wagner’s poetry from  her collection Light Subtracts Itself:

    On The Wheel

    See, she hissed when he broke
    his nose. Feel the tongue’s lie?
    When the iron singed an arm,
    she nodded. God punishes.

    At the ocean, we don’t think
    about the absence of ocean,
    the deep hold of darkness
    swallowing us over and over.

    Here’ the broken toe from sneaking
    out the window, the severed tendon,
    the chipped tooth, debt picking up
    interest. For every lost promise,

    every tingle and rush, every night
    of slipping further out, of looking
    back, waiting for the ghost to pass
    through the wall, the wheel turns.

    – – –

    What are the origins for the poems in your “Red Silk” collection?

    Most of my poetry comes from what I experience and what I observe.  Red Silk is divided into sections.  One section involves teaching and students.  I taught composition and creative writing for many years.  Another section, and where the title of the book comes from, is about the experience of being married to a Viet Nam vet.  Poets have written many poems about war, but these poems try to address what happens after the vet comes back home and has to adjust to life after war.  The poems try to show the effect war can have on loved ones and relationships, especially in a war that had so many casualties and didn’t honor its soldiers when they came back.  My ex-husband, Gale, received three medals, including the Silver Star, and they were mailed to him without a ceremony.  He came back wounded and spent three years on and off at Fitzsimmons military hospital in Denver. Gale returned from war a changed man that had years of emotional and physical stress.

    After you published your first book of poetry, did you ever doubt that you would complete and publish a second?

    Well, I think most writers would say that they have already written quite a few new poems before their book gets published.  It usually takes at least a year before an accepted book gets published.  My book Salvatore’s Daughter took almost three years.  By that time, I had enough material for another book.  My first two books, now out of print, were actually chap books during the early stages of writing.  Salvatore’s Daughter was my first full poetry book, followed by Red Silk, and Light Subtracts Itself.

    Describe your process for ordering poems in a collection.

    The process varies.  I’ve actually done the ordering of poems for both of my husband’s books as well as a few other writers.  I read all of the poems through, and then I read them again and start to sort them into piles that seem to flow together.  The third time through, I arrange what I think serves as a logical or chronological order.  Sometimes this might be what seems a chronological flow if most of the poems are narratives, or it could involve a logical order of ideas as they unfold.  A book, to me, should unfold throughout. Sometimes I group poems into sections that seem to fit together and carry similar themes or subject matter.  To me a book needs to come together in some way, not just be a collection of random poems.  At the beginning of the book, I tend to put one or two poems that carry a theme, symbol, or idea that represents much if not all of what the book adds up to say.  At the end, I try to put poems that finish or close the book.  At the same time, I think the book ought to open with a strong poem that engages the reader and makes him want to read on and a closing poem that leaves an impression that lingers.

    Can you talk bit more about your experience working with Robert Bly?

    I think every writer ought to have a great experience and connection with a significant writer.  It can be so energizing.  At least, that was the experience I had with Robert Bly.  He was probably the most dynamic and engaging person I’ve ever met.  I took at class with him over the summer, and we met for five or six hours every day, sometimes longer.  Every day was a new surprise whether we were walking along a beach or pounding away at the difficulties of translating a poem.  I don’t think I could do justice to how amazing the experience was or include all of the experiences we had.  As a Jungian scholar, Bly had us recording our dreams every night with the instructions that we were to record them only, not read them afterward, and he had us doing writing exercises that elicited the subconscious.  He also put on persona masks and recited poems in the voice of different people—like the politician, the philosopher, or the executive.  He was always trying to shut off that logical, thinking brain to get us to the “third brain.” From the beginning he told us that he was not going to workshop our poems or help us edit them.  He said, “I’m going to teach you how to work, how to create material for a book.  When you leave here, you should have enough material to produce a book.”  We wrote three rough drafted pieces each day, and he always wrote with us, so he was creating his own manuscript of work.  Two of the three poems we wrote each day he stimulated with assorted exercises, and the third we wrote at night on our own.  Each of us did have enough material to develop a book by the time we left.  He told us if we were stuck or needed more input, then we should go back and read from our recorded dreams.

    He also invited a number of poets to visit our class and discuss something concerning the craft of poetry.  One day he had a drummer come, and we listened to beat for hours.  He had us translate and then share the translation.  There were such differences in translations that we learned how hard it is to choose the right words and what part of the poem (the sound, the rhythm, the words, etc.) we were willing to sacrifice because it’s not possible to get everything the poet has done in his own language into English.  We could really see it when eight people had eight entirely different translations.

    We had lunch and dinner together, and all of his class sessions were engrossing.  Most of the time we spent outside instead of in a classroom.  One day we were walking along the beach, and he asked a fisherman if he could borrow one of the flounder he had caught, and the fisherman agreed.  He threw it on the sand, where it started flopping.  We all watched it die.  Then we had to engage all of our senses in describing the fish and our experience in watching it die.  It was powerful for us because he then had us comparing it to specific things that he named.

    He has over a thousand poems of other people memorized, and he often asked us if we knew this poem or that poem, and he would recite them for us, always saying first, “Let me give it to you.”  He recommended we memorize poems we loved and “give them” to people when we’re standing in grocery lines or waiting at the theatre.  I think people would have a hard time getting the level of involvement Bly gave his students.  He had a wonderful sense of humor, and if he thought we were taking him too seriously, he said, “Don’t write that down.  How do you know that I know what I’m talking about?”  Sometimes I felt like I was with a psychologist, a philosopher, or a poet.  We never knew what to expect, but it was always a surprise. It was almost magical.

    After I went back home to Missouri, I did start working on the poems, and they formed the book Salvatore’s Daughter.  The day that I received my published copies, I sent one to Robert Bly, and about a week later, he sent me a copy of his new book that came out on the same day.  His book had many of the poems we started in his class.

    What projects are you working on now?

    I am always working on the next poem, the next book of poems.  I have about half of the poems finished for the next book.  I’m always working on about a half dozen at a time at different levels of completion.  I’m also arranging the poems of my husband’s new book and helping him edit those poems.

    I am one of the co-editors of the I-70 Review, a literary magazine of poetry and short fiction, so that keeps me fairly busy too.  We accept submissions from July 1 to Jan 31, so for anyone interested in submitting, he or she can visit our website at www.i70review.fieldinfoserv.com or friend us on Facebook.

    I continue to work as a board member and volunteer at the Writers Place.  I am the chair of the programming committee, and our goal is to help writers get the opportunity to read their work, whether at The Writers Place or at the Neon Gallery.  A couple of years ago, we formed a partnership with Tom Cobian of the Neon Gallery, and four times a year, we have a collaboration of the arts.  We call the event Music+Poetry+Art.  Tom is a Neon artist and displays his work as well as the work of others, I supply the poets, and Martha Gershun and Rick Malsick supply the musicians.  I’m also always helping with fundrasiers and grant proposals at The Writers Place.

    I am in a writing group, and it helps keep me focused on writing new material.  Sometimes it’s easy to get bogged down in endless revision.  I also mentor writers, give readings, writing workshops, and do assorted freelance writing projects that are interesting.  Lately, I’ve been collecting ideas and writing fragments of material for a possible memoir about teaching.  I have had so many students with interesting stories, and I wanted to capture them in writing.  I first tried doing it with poetry, but it isn’t quite working out because each story requires too much background.  So, it may end up a mixture of poems and memoir.  I never really run out of ideas, only time to do them.

    – – –

    Maryfrances Wagner’s books include Salvatore’s Daughter (BkMk) Red Silk (MidAm) and Light Subtracts Itself. (MidAm).  Red Silk won the Thorpe Menn Book Award in 2000.  Her poems have appeared in literary magazines including New Letters, Midwest Quarterly, Laurel Review, Beacon Review, anthologies and textbooks including Unsettling America:  An Anthology of Contemporary Multicultural Poetry (Penguin Books) and The Dream Book, An Anthology of Writings by Italian American Women (winner of the American Book Award from the Before Columbus Foundation).  Work from that book was chosen for American Audio Prose and was translated into Italian for Trapani Nuovo in Italy.  She is a co-editor of the I-70 Review. 

     

  • Inception by Joanne Bodin

    It’s a tiny drop of dew on a blade of grass after a rainstorm
    that won’t let you shift your focus until it burrows into your subconscious
    with tangled images that call out to you
    then it disappears for awhile
    but you know it’s still there,  the melancholy thoughts
    still disjointed pulling at you to give them life
    to tell their story untill they weigh you down with abandon
    you try to convince yourself that it’s not your story
    but then the tidal wave, no longer a tiny drop of dew
    envelopes your subconscious and debris of human suffering wash along
    the shore of your mind and interrupt your every day routine
    then it disappears for awhile
    until you are sitting at the Sixth Street Cafe with your writing pad, pen
    cup of Moroccan dark roast coffee
    the sound of rain pellets on the picture window
    in the corner of your wooden booth
    the drone of a train whistle tunnels into your subconscious
    and synapses begin firing away
    a train roars by
    rain mixed with snow blurs your vision and you look out of the window
    see the ghostly shadow of the red caboose as it disappears into the mist
    suddenly the fog lifts
    you see distant sun drenched fields of poppies and columbine
    the entire story now unfolds and you know everyone so well
    their stature, their favorite foods, their deepest secrets
    and your hand begins to write- you dribble words onto
    paper like creamy butterscotch candy in metaphors of longing
    of pain and  euphoria that dance with you in a
    tango of sentences and the floodgates open
    you stay with them until the finish, not to win the race
    but to honor their presence, and the heaviness lifts
    your muse gives you a creative wink
    and runs off to romp in her fields of glory.

    —

    Joanne Bodin is a retired teacher of the gifted in New Mexico. She received her Ph.D. in Curriculum Instruction and Multi-Cultural Teacher Education. Her latest novel, Orchid of the Night, is a dark psychological thriller about a man running from his troubled past who finds solace in the gay community of Ixtlan. It won the 2017 New York City Big Book Award as “distinguished favorite” in GBLT fiction. It also won the 2017 New Mexico/Arizona Book Award in GBLT fiction and placed as “favorite” in three other categories.
    Visit her website at http://www.joannebodin.com for updates

  • Guest Blog: Scoring Big – Marketing a New Book by Chalise Bourque

    Scoring Big – Marketing a New Book

    What, Where, and… Hey, want a Candy Bar?

    Sometimes we do something so “right” in the setup of a story but we couldn’t say why—until later, in that rear view mirror of life. I’m talking about getting lucky with the “what” “where” and “a candy bar” in marketing my new YA novel, One Right Thing. I’ll explain.

    I knew my book’s title (any book’s title) was important. I just hadn’t focused on the reasons why. So, I hadn’t thought how helpful my title choice would be. One Right Thing is a character driven “family drama” that includes teen pregnancy and sexual abuse. A few months ago, in a fit of absentee-agent-desperation, when my beloved book hit my deemed quota of rejections (Can we say 4 X 10, everyone?) I considered changing One Right Thing to “Sex 101.”

    Why?

    Must you ask?

    Put “sex” in anything, probably even a picture book, or a recipe, and you’ll double your hits! Swapping out One Right Thing for “Sex 101” would have been a sell-out. Worse, it wouldn’t have held the marketing magic One Right Thing offers.

    You want your title to be memorable and unique. And not overused! Run a check to see what other books, and on what other subjects, already have “your” title!  And you want your title to give away a bit of what your book is about. Even though mine is about pregnancy, it’s almost, not at all, about sex. And you want your title to issue a kind of invitation, a “Come take me off this shelf!” plea. One reason I think One Right Thing works is people instantly want to argue with anything so one dimensional and dogmatic. “Who says only one?” “Why only one? Why not two?” “What’s this author’s one right thing, anyway?”

    NPR had an essay contest a few years ago called “This I Believe.” Their entrants were mostly adults. With the similarity between “This I Believe,” and “One Right Thing,” I decided to sponsor a national contest for the 12-20 age group. This contest will keep many in my target audience saying and thinking my book’s title over and over: “Hey, Joe, what’s your one right thing?” “I dunno, man; I’m deciding. What’s your one right thing?”

    We want, our readers thinking about our titles—pondering them, looking through the pages, figuring out what the titles mean. Make your title work for you. My book also looks at abortion and adoption. The idea isn’t to proclaim “one right thing,” but to get people talking about what’s right. For them.

    Can you make your title into a contest? Can yours get mileage by lining up with a product? Something going on in the news? Something people know, maybe want, before they even know they want your book?

    The next stroke of genius… okay, luck… is the “where” in my story. Books with a firm locale, that name streets you could go and stand on, intrigue me. Don’t they you? So, without seeing what a coop this would be, I set my novel in the town where I grew up. I now find that I have a natural and eager audience in the readers in this area. And it gives me a launching pad for my book and contest with the teens in Manhattan and Junction City, Kansas, where I started out. I’m beginning my book tour there because many local readers will be already interested in buying it. They’ll want to see if they can decide where, exactly, Maggie and her father lived, with all his broken down cars in the drive. Which hill is it where Skylar takes Maggie the first night they stand beneath the harvest moon and kiss? Do you have a place that burns with memories for you? Might it be a setting for a book?

    The third marketing coop is, again, pure luck! Now, fun! Skylar, my hunky, male protagonist, devours Score candy bars. Get the double meaning? In football, and in life, Skylar is a jock, a risk taker, a boy with a appetite. He’s always hungry and… he always wants to score. How am I making use of this food item in marketing? And how might you put something like this, on purpose, into a piece of writing? Everyone likes getting a free book. Even better if it comes with a candy bar!

    One Right Thing is a “print on demand.” I jumped in the first day and bought 100 “seed” books, books that—often—I send out, gratis, upon the waters of the reading world. I also bought, on sale, a huge box of Scores. When I give a librarian, or a teacher, or a teenager, a copy of One Right Thing with a goal or request—“Might you review this for me?” “Can you “like” this on your Facebook?” I also give them a Score candy bar. “Why the Score?” they ask. I smile and say, “Read the book; you’ll know!”

    Bonus marketing creativity… I ordered new business cards that have the book’s cover on one side and my picture and how to reach me on the other. I give out five cards a day, to five different people, even if that means, as night nears, I give one to my neighbor, walking his poodle. If spreading the word about One Right Thing does nothing else, it’s increasing neighborliness. Poodle and I are getting to be great pals.

    Last: always—like your purse or wallet—carry your new book everywhere you go, every time you leave home. Studies show that the first time you see something (i.e. my book jacket) you only “see” it.  “Okay,”your eyes report, “that’s a book.” The second time you see something (again, my book) the information becomes: “There’s a book and I’ve seen it before.” The third time you see my book, your brain makes a leap. It says: “I see this book all the time. Maybe I should read this book!” And, of course, you should!

    Good luck when it’s your turn to take on marketing.  Write and share with Lisa and me your creative marketing ideas. Lisa will, and I will, be excited to hear from you. I thank my generous friend, Lisa, for sharing her blog space with me this month.

    For you Kansas City readers, you are invited to a book party for One Right Thing on Thursday, Oct. 18, at the party room of Sulgrave-Regency condominiums from 6:30-8 p.m. Please come!

    —

    Chalise grew up in Manhattan, KS, and graduated from Kansas State Univ. She freelanced for 20 years, but her two favorite works are: Rain Forest Girl, a nonfiction children’s book about adopting from Brazil, and her most recent work: One Right Thing, a fiction YA on sexual abuse and teen pregnancy. You can reach Chalise – and she welcomes being reached – on her website: www.chalisebourque.com

  • Interview with Hakim Bellamy, Albuquerque’s first Poet Laureate

    Most Albuquerque-ans are familiar with  Hakim’s contribution to the Albuquerque creative community, and, of course, his great success as a slam poet. I hope that this interview, done before his appointment as city poet Laureate, will provide a small glimpse of Hakim’s generous character and his approach to creativity. As always, a poem and a brief biography follow the interview.

    1. Tell me about your current projects and what they mean to you.

    Lately, it’s been about experimenting and putting what I do (poetry and performance) in “unsafe” spaces. Beyond the typical criticisms of the poetry slam scene from which I come, it is oddly a very safe space (in regards to artistic risk). Once you figure out your performative voice, you will be hard pressed to be challenged beyond it. Beyond the measure of the slam (i.e. wins, losses, teams made, championships won, etc.), you want to be challenged as a writer/performer to do something innovative. I prefer to measure success by how diverse is your repertoire of work, or how many different people who would NEVER go to a slam, have heard and appreciated your work. The risk is not in preaching to the choir, it’s preaching on the street corner to atheists, who walk away contemplating believing in something…even if that something is belief in another human being or humanity itself. To that end, I’ve been shape-shifting my poetry into music lyrics, my performance into theater and my events into jazz/hip-hop hybrids at Jazzbah ABQ on the 1st Tuesday of every month. I am working with my creative brothers Carlos Contreras and Colin Diles Hazelbaker on putting together a tour of Urban Verbs: Hip Hop Conservatory and Theater for the college/music/theater festival circuit in the spring of 2012. The Urban Verbs outfit recently became officially represented by 1680PR and is a format that allows us to put poetic dialogue in front of non-poetry audiences. But poetry will always be my ground, and right now I am preparing pieces for the new year, which really means MLK Day and Black History Month, for my 4th year at Amy Biehl High School’s Day of Service and the NAACP MLK Ceremony at the Roundhouse in Santa Fe. Writing poems about the #Occupy movement has been fun and easy lately, because it is easy to write about something you are passionate about.

    2. How do you “cultivate creativity?”

    By living with reckless abandon. You have to fall, and hurt, and get up and fall again to be able to write. I’ve been falling my entire life. Falling in love, falling for bullshit, falling up and learning from it all…and then writing about it. I immerse myself in other arts. As a writer, I need to hear music, see a show (theater), watch documentaries (I am a documentary junkie), play with my son in the park, take in an art exhibit…creativity begets creativity. That’s why movements like the Harlem Renaissance, Black Arts Movement, Beat Movement, are contagious. Viral paradigm shifts that permeated everything from film and music to cooking and architecture…I think that creativity is a context, not a construct and it can be created rather than waited on…like a strike of lightning.

    3. Is poetry important to community? How and were do these concepts intersect for you?

    Poetry IS community. When we start talking AND listening to each other, becoming aware of one another, and ultimately, are forced to acknowledge and perceive each other, we have a relationship. A community is a web of relationships. Poetry fosters community. Buying a book by a local poet supports the local economy. That’s community on a small scale. However, going to a slam where 12 poets read beside the feature (perhaps the author of said book), allows 13 voices into the fray, with the requisite attendance and participation of the studio audience, and voila, people are feelin’ other people. Community is what most people’s poetry is about, with all of it’s marvelous imperfections, profundity and absurdity.

    4. How do you protect your creative space, both literally and figuratively?

    I don’t. I leave my creative space exposed. That works for me. Doesn’t work for most people. Most people feel like there is some sort of decorum or maturation in the masquerade of public/private life. They pretend that someone who, as I like to say, lives their life out loud is either obnoxious, egotistical or immature. They think the teen that tweets their every emotion, relationship failure or heroic moment is vain or juvenile. I look at them as brave and transparent. Yes, my poetry is like my Facebook status or my Twitter feed (and soon Google+, so lemme show them some love here!). I will show you my self-righteous, save the world side (probably too much as my critics say), however will also show you my flawed, petulant, hurt and scared sides…there’s no need to pretend I always act 33 and positive when I do not. So expose my closet of skeletons in my poetry and my social media. However, that door to that closet has to be as open to air dirty laundry as it has to be open to shine some light and import some creativity in as well. The open wound has always been attractive to poetry audiences. Being open to failing in front of an audience increases the possibility of succeeding in front of an audience…even if it is audience of self, an audience of one. Everyone wants to look like they have the answer in the public eye, or like they have it together. We know from some of our greatest artistic geniuses that there is nothing “together” about brilliance. And though I certainly do not yet conceptualize myself as brilliant, I’m a fan of NOT having the answer. I’m a fan of thinking out loud. Thinking in public should be just as valued as always having the answer in public. As a matter of fact people should think in public more often. Unlike thinking in private, it rarely gets mistaken for not thinking at all.

    5. Discuss the interdependence among performance art, performance poetry, and written poetry (or poetry on the page).

    I think I touched on that. They are all part of a paradigm, the waves of influence in an artistic movement all dance in the same ocean. They move ships on the surface and in that regard, they shape our reality. They are the varying axes of a Cartesian coordinate system. The x, y, and z axes correspond to performance art, performance poetry and written poetry. Together they locate an object in a specific place, time, era, generation…like three people looking at a glass on coffee table from different angles and providing data on where that glass actually exists in time and space and what it looks like. We need them all to have an accurate description of reality, however subjective that is.

    —

    Preamble: It is quite an honor to be asked to sort of, interpret, in a way, Kathleen Ryan’s compositions. 3 pieces, I was given, Tangle Release & Bless. Around 3 and a half,  three and 2 and a half minutes, respectively. I fell in love with them all because they series…Tangle, Release and Bless, mimic the cyclical nature of life…fight, let go or flow, and reward…whether that be in experience, understanding, prosperity, or just the satisfaction of getting past it…whatever it was. It felt complete…and before I interpret Kathleen into Hakim-speak…I must say, “complete” is a great adjective to describe Kathleen’s work. My interpretation:

    Silent Sanctuary – by hakim bellamy

    The poet entered the sanctuary
    As a cynic not a sinner
    As a seer
    Not a sayer
    This time

    This time
    He was looking
    For the word

    This time
    He needed inspiration
    More than he needed
    To be inspiring

    And he was listening
    For once
    Maybe twice

    The poet entered the sanctuary
    As a sentencer
    But not like them
    Not a judge
    But one who strings words
    Into rosaries
    That protect us
    From not talking to each other
    That shackle us to communities
    For life

    The poet entered the sanctuary
    Stood in the doorway of silence
    Praying to be met with
    Music, mantra, melody
    or even magic

    He was met with none
    As he crossed the threshold
    Between craft and creation
    As he has learned
    On the street

    That science ain’t shit
    Without sanctimony
    That anyone can read the notes
    But it’s how you play’em
    Anyone can write and read
    A word
    But it’s how you lay’em
    How you say’em
    Anyone can read a holy book
    But it’s how you live it
    People sleep under sheet music
    All the time
    And don’t give a fuck

    It’s how you make love

    The poet entered the sanctuary
    To have his French pardoned
    Amongst other things

    But was disappointed
    Because there would be more French

    Disappointed
    That God’s people
    Were worshipping with mouths closed

    Disappointed
    That God’s people
    Were worshipping with asses still

    Disappointed
    That Heavenly people
    We’re afraid to love one another
    To touch one another
    To dance
    Together

    Confused
    That they could read
    A whole book
    And have nothing to say
    That they could read
    An entire hymnal
    And have nothing to sing
    Nothing to dance

    Who could read
    And entire volume
    Of divine poetry
    And then pray in silence?

    So the poet left the sanctuary
    Back to the curbside pulpit
    Where pain
    And worship
    Both have to be louder
    Than the traffic

    Where God is like a superhero
    And you only ever see her
    When your life’s in danger

    And unlike the church folk
    Cause of the nature of how he lives
    He sees God everyday
    Doesn’t even have to pray

    But when he does
    And when they do
    They have a novel on the tip of their tongues
    And God like stories
    A lot

    But what the poet forgot
    Is that their poetry
    Comes from silence
    Not from sounds

    And such poetry
    If its good
    Leads back
    To silence
    Again.

    Amen.
    (c) Hakim Bellamy August 20, 2011

    —
    Hakim Bellamy is a national and regional Poetry Slam Champion and holds three consecutive collegiate poetry slam titles at the University of New Mexico. His poetry has been published in Albuquerque inner-city buses and various anthologies. Bellamy was recognized as an honorable mention for the University of New Mexico Paul Bartlett Re Peace Prize for his work as a community organizer and journalist and was recently bestowed the populist honor of “Best Poet” by Local iQ (“Smart List 2010 & 2011”) and Alibi (“Best of Burque 2010 & 2011”).He is the co-creator of the multi-media Hip Hop theater production Urban Verbs: Hip-Hop Conservatory & Theater that has been staged in throughout the country. He facilitates youth writing workshops for schools and community organizations in New Mexico and beyond. Currently, Hakim is the Strategic Communication Director at Media Literacy Project. You can also read poetry by Hakim at 200 New Mexico Poems: http://200newmexicopoems.wordpress.com/category/hakim-bellamy/

  • From Icebreaker to Poem Prompt

    This week’s prompt is an adaptation of a great ice-breaker activity in which many of you may have participated at some point in your lives; but  instead of getting to know your peers, you get to write a poem.

    Write three statements, two of which are true and one which COULD be true, but is not. Use the premise of these statements as a basis for a poem in which the reader cannot easily discern if the speaker is reliable. This may feel like a perfect prompt for a narrative poem, but experiment and see what develops.

    Most of all, have fun!

  • Interview with Poet and Editor, Tanaya Winder

    Upon our nearly simultaneous returns to Albuquerque after adventures took us afar,  I had the opportunity to catch up with friend, fellow poet and former work-shop peer Tanaya Winder. She has been busy  in the most worthwhile of ways since our days of collaborating poetry in Joy Harjo’s poetry class, and clearly understands the challenges of an emerging writer. I am happy  to share tales of Tanaya’s experience and strength in today’s interview. Please enjoy Tanaya’s lovely poem, which is followed by our interview.

    —–

    measure by measure: the body begs  
    by Tanaya Winder

    at the soul’s release please do not leave.
    The last crescendo – breathing and
    the body intertwined, two hands
    offered as a gesture like grasping at butterflies,
    longing to hold something precious.
    The legatos of trying –
    hear the search in continuous acts,
    the staccatoed beats.
    Dal capo al coda,
    go back to the beginning
    in the music of being human,
    the final score and the counterpoint:
    hands outstretched as if
    to say I cannot stay –

    —-
    You have accomplished quite a lot since we attended a Joy’s  poetry workshop at UNM together. Tell me more about what you have been up to.

    Since Joy’s workshop in 2008, I’ve been writing as much as I can. Entering the MFA world was quite different than I expected. I imagined entering a community of fellow writers who were all so passionate about writing that they’d discuss it continuously, and through that discussion inspire each other. This isn’t to say that I didn’t find any inspiration at UNM, I did. I met fellow writers who enjoyed writing and even some who felt it was their life’s calling; but still, I felt something was lacking. Fortunately, Joy Harjo took me under her wing and agreed to let me take an independent study with her the semester after our poetry workshop. That independent study ended up helping me get involved in my biggest and most influential project so far, “Soul Talk, Song Language: Conversations with Joy Harjo.”

    Joy mentioned wanting to put together another collection of interviews. We ended up really connecting in our views. I read her work and she read mine, so it made sense for us to collaborate. I spent the next two years assisting her with her book and was credited as co-editor of the collection. During those two years, I also ended up taking time off from the MFA program. I felt inundated with the teaching load and coursework. I wanted space for clarity and time to read what I wanted to read, to write what I wanted to write. I moved to Boulder, Colorado to work as the Assistant Director for the University of Colorado at Boulder’s Upward Bound Program. It was a good move for me physically and mentally.

    In Boulder I started training for my 1st half-marathon and since then have completed 4 half-marathons. I also was able to take classes in CU’s MFA program, which offered a variety of courses and subjects that weren’t available at UNM. One month in my lyric poetry class gave me the inspiration and insight I needed to view poetry in a completely different way. Inspired by the coursework, I wrote the poem “The Impermanence of Human Sculptures” in an eight-hour sitting. I went on to edit the poem twice and submitted it for the “A Room of Her Own Foundation’s Spring 2010 Orlando Prize in Poetry” and ended up winning a $1000 first prize. I took that as I sign that I was where I needed to be.

    You’d be surprised how much writing/work you can get done with a steady 8 to 5, 40 hour a week job. I read what I wanted to in the evenings, jotted notes, and even started a writing schedule. I’d wake up at 6AM every morning to write for at least 30 minutes, even if it was just stream of consciousness writing. On weekends I didn’t have any “homework” that I was required to do, no grading, or prepping for classes – all I had was time and I was grateful for it. I found a writing partner who recently moved to Boulder after completing her MFA in screenwriting. We met at coffee shops on Saturdays and Sundays to write and chat about writing. It was then that I realized – I am, indeed, a writer. I didn’t need a program to write, I didn’t need a teaching assistantship and I didn’t need a “workshop.” All I needed was determination to write. A poet-mentor of mine told me that the hardest part of finishing the MFA is continuing to write; he told me he believed I’d make it if I kept up with the writing I was doing. In my time away from UNM and my MFA program, I published 12 poems, 1 interview, 1 essay, and got the book deal with Joy Harjo through Wesleyan University Press.

    I did realize that while I don’t need a MFA to be a writer, I do need it if I want to teach. As someone who absolutely believes that poetry is important to the community, I want to be able to teach in both university and community settings. In my first year at UNM, I felt the intersection between community and poetry was somewhat lacking, so I decided to drive home to my reservation once a month to teach a writing workshop at our local library. I loved it. It fed my soul and people enjoyed it. They kept coming back each month.

    I think it’s important for poetry and writing to have presence in the community because it reminds you why you’re doing what you’re doing. Sometimes writing can be so solitary. You write, research, write, edit, revise, and write some more. You submit, get rejected, submit again, and again until (hopefully) acceptance. Aside from the occasional reading/performance we writers rarely get to see and interact with our readers, but in community work you get to interact with readers and help others learn how to render their own experiences through story and words. I am a person who hopes my own writing and poetry reflects the times and the needs of society; without interacting with the community the poetry cannot attempt to reflect communities and so I believe poetry must intersect with community. Poetry has the potential to create community for people who are searching for it by providing a space to interact and share experiences on the page.

    But finding balance between teaching, community work, and writing can be difficult. I try to think of writing like working out: you don’t find the time for it – you make it. Like exercise, I find that poetry is necessary for me to maintain my health. Now that I am back teaching at UNM and finishing up my MFA I don’t wake up at 6AM to write. Coursework and all that is involved in teaching takes up a lot of time, but I still make sure that I put in at least an hour of “writing work,” which means researching or revising if I am not creating something new. I use goals to help force me to write by looking up special calls for submissions and tell myself that I am going to apply to them. I find deadlines and use a planner to fill in dates where I tell myself that I will submit to at least 3-5 magazines/journals a month. Even if I don’t have something “ready” I send it anyway to keep myself in the habit of writing and submitting. All of these, of course, are small goals in terms of the big plans I have.

    It’s important to dream big. In the back of my mind I tell myself I want to have collections of poetry published and one day even have my 1st collection win a 1st book prize. I want to be a Stegner Fellow and dream of becoming a U.S Poet Laureate. I’m well aware of the odds of some of these things actually happening but that doesn’t keep me from dreaming because the dreaming pushes me to work harder. I know I have a lot of work to do before I get to where I want to be with my writing, but that’s the fun of it. You don’t get to where you want to be without putting in the work, and that’s true of both life and writing. Sometimes you sit there and re-work a poem revising lines, individual words, and structures until it seems like a big mess and then…clarity. The funny thing is you wouldn’t have gotten to a point of clarity without diving into the wreck and coming out on the other side. And hey, that’s life, that’s writing.

    “Soul Talk, Song Language” by Joy Harjo and Tanay Winder are available at Wesleyan University Press  through their website at http://www.upne.com/0-8195-7150-4.html

    —-

    Biography:

    Tanaya Winder is from the Southern Ute and Duckwater Shoshone Nations. She graduated from Stanford University in 2008 with a BA in English. Tanaya was a finalist in the 2009 Joy Harjo Poetry Competition and a winner of the “A Room of Her Own Foundation’s Spring 2010 Orlando Prize in Poetry.” Her poems have appeared in Cutthroat magazine, Yellow Medicine Review, Adobe Walls, and Superstition Review, amongst others and are forthcoming in Drunken Boat magazine. She teaches Composition and Introduction to Creative Writing at the University of New Mexico where she is currently pursuing her MFA in poetry. She is currently the Assistant Director for the University of Colorado-Boulder’s Upward Bound Program – a college prep program for over 85 Native American high school students from different reservations all across the country. In her free time she enjoys coffee, karaoke, and teaching a monthly writer’s workshop at the local library in her hometown, Ignacio, CO.

    Tanaya also writes a blog “Letters from a Young Poet” at  http://tanayawinder.wordpress.com/