National Poetry Month Celebration 2015Ever go into a bookstore or on Amazon looking for a new poet to read? Have your eyes ever zeroed in on an unfamiliar name only to peak your interest and then when you open the book you are glad that you did? Far from disappointed, you sit and get lost in the poet’s world of love lost and found, ever happen to you?
Several years ago, when Borders was still up and running in Bowie, MD, this was how I found poet James Tipton- on accident, right before I was scheduled to meet my writers group. I was late that day. I couldn’t put the book down. I mean it was the best romantic poetry I’ve ever read. Don’t take my word for it---read it yourself. Ok, I know your thinking you want to know my favorite lines, so I’ll share these with you: From “All I know is that I Built this House” by James Tipton I built this house with the fragrances of all the women I have ever loved, and while I was working high in the air, I remembered how they arrived, one by one, in secret, offering me wine bottles filled with rosy poems. From “I Watched at Low Tide Your Breasts Rise” by James Tipton At what age did you know-- for certain—that you never would be beautiful, never shine yourself into the poems of lovers, never have the sultry bliss that beauty by itself can bring. You can’t tell me those are not the hottest lines!!! Thank you James Tipton for sharing your heart with us all! Bio from www.coloradopoetscenter.org: James Tipton, who kept bees and wrote poems in Fruita, Colorado, for several years, now lives mainly in the mountain village of Chapoles in Mexico. His work is widely published, including credits in The Nation, South Dakota Review, Southern Humanities Review, The Greensboro Review, Esquire, Field, and American Literary Review. He is also included in various anthologies and other works, most recently Aphrodite, by Isabel Allende (1998), Bleeding Hearts, edited by Michelle Lovric (1998), The Geography of Hope, edited by David J. Rothman (1998), and The Intimate Kiss, edited by Wendy Maltz (2001),Charity, edited by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer (Red Rock Press, 2002), Hope, edited by Sophie Elise Lalazarian (Red Rock Press, 2003), Haiku: A Poet’s Guide, edited by Lee Gurga (Modern Haiku Press, 2003), Readings for Weddings, edited by Mark Oakley, Vicar of St. Paul’s (Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 2004), and Erotic Haiku, edited by Hiroaki Sato (IBC, 2004). His book, Letters from a Stranger (Conundrum Press, 1998) won the 1999 Colorado Book Award in Poetry. His latest collections are All the Horses of Heaven (Modern English Tanka Press, 2009) and Washing Dishes in the Ancient Village (Ediciones del Lago, 2009).
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National Poetry Month Celebration 2015Bio: Larry Wilfong's world is coming together in a harmonious and syncronistic manner. He and his family recently purchased a home and Larry has retired from the building trades. He now drives a school bus for a little rural school in Vermont and is considered a local favorite. Larry's latest projects include freelance writing for his town's paper and learning to play the violin. He enjoys watching his family bloom; Larry is in a good place- He's found everything, and with it a place for it all to exist. The Interview
A PoemUntitled by Lary WIlfong raised in a darkness that told me I was alone, a tiny corner in my mind was my home. The only place lit well enough for me to see, the darkness was not there originally. In fact it was mine, a gift given by man, who trained me to be jaded, angry and bland. Then came the fire raging within, to consume my being like bits of kindling. When the smoke clear I lay upon the ruble, a pyro who burnt up all of his trouble. The walls in my mind collapsed, I was free. Except for the part where, I didn't know me. A long lonely walk before I found a hand, it took mine in its and we traveled the land. The feelings before would not have been felt, they were now new cards that I had been dealt. No place left within me that I could go hide, the struggle the burden, now has bolstered my pride. Along came the flowers that her and I had sown, there is now no where left for me to be alone. The old me had died, in that fire of mine, a new me reincarnated in that moment of time. I drink from her cup and she from my own, the Woman and the flowers that together we sown. Looking back to that small little space, I can see the light that shone on my face. It was not a bulb or angel in disguise, it was the hope for a future I was to realize. Now is the present, a present indeed. The gift I was promised in my time of need. Grander adventures lie across our path, eyes to the forward no sense to look back. And so gladly I parade in this world filled with gloom, I broke from myself and left that small room. Darkness I still see though it is not inside, it covers the faces of those who will have died. So too, I hope that they burn, and step into the open, to be free, in their turn. Special RecognitionMy wonderful wife Janelle is heading out on tour! Catch her at Wannee and Return to Roots, or find her online and watch amazingness in action at www.janeticsink.com.
National Poetry Month Celebration 2015Bio: Deonte Osayande is a writer from Detroit, Mi. His poems and essays have been published in over a dozen publications and have won awards in the Dudley Randall Poetry Contest, the Wayne Literary Review Poetry Contest and have been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. He is a three time member of the Detroit National Poetry Slam Team as well as slammaster/co-founder of the Freshwater Wordsmiths poetry slam and open mic. He's a poetry reader for The Adroit Journal, teaches creative writing through the Inside Out Detroit program and is a Professor of English at Wayne County Community College. The Interview1. Where do you draw your inspiration from to write poetry? My inspiration comes from life, images and my senses. I know that's a fairly generic answer but I write in spurts. I do prompts from time to time to either make sure I don't get rusty or when I'm coming up with one for my students/mentees to make sure I'm not asking them to do anything too difficult but for the most part my poems come out when they want to. I write about what I live, see, hear, touch and what touches me. Sometimes it takes time for those experiences to inspire me to write and sometimes it's nearly instant. 2. What advice do you have for someone that is threatened by poetry? Give a wide variety of poetry a try before shutting yourself off to it. You never know what kind of great things you can get out of poetry. When I was younger I hated it because all I was being taught was sonnets from old white men who died hundreds of years ago. I'm so thankful I didn't completely give up on it, and now many of my favorite poems are written by women of color and old dead middle eastern men who died hundreds of years ago, haha. 3. Where are you from/Where do you live? I have narcolepsy and I used to be a collegiate track and field sprinter. I started having trouble staying awake in school since middle school but we (my family and I) didn't really know why until college. I've tried to write about it numerous times but that and my experience running track are two things I never feel like I adequately put on the page. 4. Where are you from? I was born in Huntsville, Alabama but I've been in Detroit since I was a baby. It's home. 5. Who is your favorite poet? I don't think I have a specific favorite poet. I'm just a fan of the art form and of great poetry. It's a lot of work that I'm a fan of from all different traditions. I enjoy Rumi, Hafez, Sylvia Plath, Han Shan, Li Po, Langston Hughes, Audre Lorde, Edgar Allen Poe and so many others that are from today. A Poet in ActionA Poemby Deonte Osayande Melt “Today I heard a music that can make the snow shine”
I couldn't hit a note if it were placed right in front of me, but I continue to sing like a bird. I can't remember if there was snow or if the radio was on in the car that day. I don't know 0 if something specifically sparked the moment we three shared, but I instantly think of Omari singing about wanting to swallow Keisha Cole's ovaries as the two of us cried laughing despite the cold. I've never been a fan of the snow. It makes me sleepy. I remember telling you in a past life I was probably a bear. For a long time you called me your man cat. It fit because whenever I came over your place I curled up on my big sister's couch as if I owned everything. When you went in to the hospital you gave me the keys so I could take care of your cats. After they ate your canaries they kept hiding from me but their purring still sounded like the rumbling of nature's love song. I could see the joy in their eyes when I brought you back home months later. When David died I knew I had lost my really cool uncle but I would not yet understand how poets summon the rain from anywhere except clouds. When I was first taken in I did not yet get how writing alone could be the start of what makes us family but now I've lost my big sister and have found a thunderstorm I didn't know I owned. Even now, reading your poems I see how people got captured by your raw exposed heart. The tune of your laughter replays in my dreams like an album of hurricanes. We have lost so many in such a short period of time but today I saw a ray of sunlight melt the snow and uncover a yellow bird's feather. I'm convinced that was you singing a note in the royal skyline of a majestic landscape in the fantastic above. What's Coming Up?On April 13th, Deonte Osayande will be the featured poet at Mic Check Mondays in DC at Culture Coffee (709 Kennedy Street, NW Washington DC from 9-11pm). Please share your reaction below.
The energy you contribute transcends your imagination. National Poetry Month Celebration 2015Bio: ELIZABETH ACEVEDO was born and raised in New York City and her poetry is infused with her Dominican parents’ bolero and her beloved city’s tough grit. She holds a BA in Performing Arts from The George Washington University and is currently an MFA candidate at the University of Maryland. With over twelve years of performance experience, Acevedo has been a featured performer on BET and Mun2, as well as delivered a TED Talk that aired in March of 2013. She has graced stages nationally and internationally including renowned venues such as Madison Square Garden, the Kennedy Center of the Performing Arts, and the State Theatre in Pretoria, South Africa. Acevedo is a National Slam Champion, the 2014 Women of the World Poetry Slam representative for Washington DC (placing in the top twenty-five in the overall competition) and she holds the distinction of being the 2014 Beltway Grand Slam Champion. She lives in Washington D.C. and has been published or has poems forthcoming in The Acentos Review, The Ostrich Review, Callaloo, Poet Lore and The Notre Dame Review. The Interview1. Where do you draw your inspiration from to write poetry? The daily things, small moments, language that rings in my ear as particularly poetic. 2. What advice do you have for someone that is threatened by poetry? If you're threatened by poetry, good. That means you're doing it right. Poetry should be threatening. It's scary to explore feelings and untold stories and it requires vulnerability to face those risks and do it anyway. But what better way to understand yourself and the world? 3. Where are you from/Where do you live? I'm originally from New York City, but I live in Washington DC. 4. Who is your favorite poet? Lucille Clifton A Poet in ActionUpcoming events and interviews can be viewed at www.acevedopoetry.com Please share your reaction below.
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Rumi | Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi was a 13th century Persian poet, an Islamic dervish and a Sufi mystic. He is regarded as one of the greatest spiritual masters and poetical intellects. Born in 1207 AD, he belonged to a family of learned theologians. He made use of everyday life’s circumstances to describe the spiritual world. Rumi’s poems have acquired immense popularity, especially among the Persian speakers of Afghanistan, Iran and Tajikistan. Numerous poems written by the great poet have been translated to different languages. Read more here. |
In TRIBUTE to RUMI, Please Share Your Favorite Line or Verse.
National Poetry Month Celebration 2015
Bio: Cici Felton is a high school senior residing in Maryland and is a creative poet and activist. She has been writing since age 9 and is a two-time member of the DC Youth Slam Team, as well as President of her school’s poetry club Lyrikal Storm. She has performed in various venues all over the world including South Africa, the Kennedy Center, George Washington University, and the Harlem Renaissance Festival, to name a few. She has her own book “Daddy’s Little Girl: Gone in 3 Minutes” which consists of her own original poems. Her goal is to touch others with her story and let the audience know her truth. She enjoys mentoring youth and changing lives with her words and believes poetry is therapeutic and saves lives.
The interview
Where do you draw your inspiration from?
I draw inspiration from my real life experiences as well as from the problems I see in the world that need to be changed.
What inspired you to write?
Throughout my childhood I was a victim of bullying which led me to have low self esteem as well as a lack of confidence. I turned to poetry as an outlet and a way for me to release my feelings without actually having someone to talk to, writing was almost therapeutic for me.
What do you think is the most important tool for a poet?
Using words in such a way that you display the truth in all aspects and make people feel what you are saying. You have to touch others with your words, because if we don’t speak up and say something about what’s going on, no one else will.
What advice do you have for someone who wants to be a poet?
There is no such thing as “not good enough”, you need no validation for your truth. You have the power to touch others with your words and that is the greatest gift. Writing is a muscle, you have to put in endless work to be a great poet. Write every chance you get, and never stop writing, it will take you far.
What is an interesting fact about you?
I am a member of the 2014 DC Youth Slam Team and I wrote my own book “Daddy’s Little Girl..”. I also went on a trip to South Africa with some other students along with my coaches and we performed at the State Theatre, led workshops, and interacted with other youth.
Where are you from/ where do you live?
PG County.
Who is your favorite poet?
Saul Williams; he’s always been able to touch others with his words and make people feel his poetry. Everything he says is the truth, and he writes in such a phenomenal way that can never be duplicated.
I draw inspiration from my real life experiences as well as from the problems I see in the world that need to be changed.
What inspired you to write?
Throughout my childhood I was a victim of bullying which led me to have low self esteem as well as a lack of confidence. I turned to poetry as an outlet and a way for me to release my feelings without actually having someone to talk to, writing was almost therapeutic for me.
What do you think is the most important tool for a poet?
Using words in such a way that you display the truth in all aspects and make people feel what you are saying. You have to touch others with your words, because if we don’t speak up and say something about what’s going on, no one else will.
What advice do you have for someone who wants to be a poet?
There is no such thing as “not good enough”, you need no validation for your truth. You have the power to touch others with your words and that is the greatest gift. Writing is a muscle, you have to put in endless work to be a great poet. Write every chance you get, and never stop writing, it will take you far.
What is an interesting fact about you?
I am a member of the 2014 DC Youth Slam Team and I wrote my own book “Daddy’s Little Girl..”. I also went on a trip to South Africa with some other students along with my coaches and we performed at the State Theatre, led workshops, and interacted with other youth.
Where are you from/ where do you live?
PG County.
Who is your favorite poet?
Saul Williams; he’s always been able to touch others with his words and make people feel his poetry. Everything he says is the truth, and he writes in such a phenomenal way that can never be duplicated.
A Poet in Action
Please share your reaction below.
The energy you contribute transcends your imagination.
National Poetry Month Celebration 2015
Bio: Eric Atkinson is currently a PhD. student at University of California, Riverside, studying African American Literature with an emphasis in comics, highlighting representations of the African American body. A former McNair Scholar and the 2008 winner of the S. Randolph Edmonds Young Scholar Competition, Mr. Atkinson has published “The Griot: The Rhetorical Impetus of African American Fiction” in the online journal of Gnovis, "Migraine" a short story in CSUSB's Pacific Review, the poem “to get there” Claremont Graduate’s Foothill Journal, vol. 2 issue 1, “Post Script for Gabriel Posser” in Verse/Chorus: A Call and Response Anthology, and short story “And the Rocket’s Red Glare” and the poem "Jane Russell's Pose: Or What You Will" in The Chaffey Review: A Creative Collective XI: The informed (un)American. Mr. Atkinson, a member of Sigma Tau Delta, Phi Theta Kappa, and the Golden Key Society, and is currently working on his dissertation on the discrepancy between social narratives and the lived social realities through a focus on representations of the African American body in graphic novels.
The Interview
1. Where do you draw your inspiration from to write poetry?
I think where is a misnomer in that location has little or nothing to do with poetic articulation as the simplest and easiest answer, for me, is how the play of language that poetry demands allows me to see (see in the sense of knowing, understanding) me through that play. To me poetry is the confluence of the senses articulated in a way that it traditionally missed or dismissed. Poetry relies on the emphasis of the metaphor, the reliance of language's inherent paradox of being something and simply representing it.
2. What advice do you have for someone that is threatened by poetry?
I don't think I could as anyone who is threatened is automatically defensive. Besides, if they are defensive it means they've already decided and concluded: ideas can be argued with determinations and definites are fixed and cannot be moved. Why would I advise? But I would try to understand their position, their rationale, and their approach. My thinking is if I can understand this person better, their thinking better, I can become a better human
3. What is an interesting fact about you?
I've donated nearly 10 gallons of blood, I'm dyslexic, and I once stopped a robbery at a Wal-Mart.
4. Where are you from/Where do you live?
I am from a little town in the Mojave Desert, Victorville. I now reside in the same city where I am receiving my PhD, Riverside, CA.
5. Who is your favorite poet?
I don't really have a favorite poet as I am always attracted to the poetry in the mundane, the quotidian. For instance in Dr. Fred Moten's academic prose, there is a sense of poetry, a sense of a reliance of metaphor instead of linguistic precision: to me his work is an articulation of the phenomenal as it communions with wonder, with meaning. And it is through these metaphors that I can know what he's talking about through the inclusion of something from me. Does that make sense?
I think where is a misnomer in that location has little or nothing to do with poetic articulation as the simplest and easiest answer, for me, is how the play of language that poetry demands allows me to see (see in the sense of knowing, understanding) me through that play. To me poetry is the confluence of the senses articulated in a way that it traditionally missed or dismissed. Poetry relies on the emphasis of the metaphor, the reliance of language's inherent paradox of being something and simply representing it.
2. What advice do you have for someone that is threatened by poetry?
I don't think I could as anyone who is threatened is automatically defensive. Besides, if they are defensive it means they've already decided and concluded: ideas can be argued with determinations and definites are fixed and cannot be moved. Why would I advise? But I would try to understand their position, their rationale, and their approach. My thinking is if I can understand this person better, their thinking better, I can become a better human
3. What is an interesting fact about you?
I've donated nearly 10 gallons of blood, I'm dyslexic, and I once stopped a robbery at a Wal-Mart.
4. Where are you from/Where do you live?
I am from a little town in the Mojave Desert, Victorville. I now reside in the same city where I am receiving my PhD, Riverside, CA.
5. Who is your favorite poet?
I don't really have a favorite poet as I am always attracted to the poetry in the mundane, the quotidian. For instance in Dr. Fred Moten's academic prose, there is a sense of poetry, a sense of a reliance of metaphor instead of linguistic precision: to me his work is an articulation of the phenomenal as it communions with wonder, with meaning. And it is through these metaphors that I can know what he's talking about through the inclusion of something from me. Does that make sense?
A poem by Eric Atkinson
Please share your reaction below.
The energy you contribute transcends your imagination.
The energy you contribute transcends your imagination.
National Poetry Month Celebration 2015
BIO: JEANANN VERLEE is an author, performance poet, editor, and former punk rocker who collects tattoos and wears polka dots. She is author of Said the Manic to the Muse and Racing Hummingbirds, winner of the Independent Publisher Book Award Silver Medal in poetry. She has also been awarded the Third Coast Poetry Prize and the Sandy Crimmins National Prize for Poetry. Her work has appeared in The New York Quarterly, Rattle, failbetter, and PANK, among others. Verlee holds a number of local and national poetry slam titles and has represented New York City ten times under both NYC-Urbana and NYC-louderARTS at the National Poetry Slam, Individual World Poetry Slam, and Women of the World Poetry Slam. She lives in New York City with her husband and their rescue pup, Aulë. She believes in you. Learn more at jeanannverlee.com.
The Interview
1. Where do you draw your inspiration from to write poetry?
I write what uproots me—whether personally or as witness.
2. What advice do you have for someone that is threatened by poetry?
Read more poetry.
3. What is an interesting fact about you?
I used to have a fire engine-red mohawk.
4. Where are you from/Where do you live?
Denver, CO / New York City
5. Who is your favorite poet?
This is an impossible question. The list is immense and shifts with mood.
Today, I feel like saying Adam Falkner. He is outrageously brilliant.
I write what uproots me—whether personally or as witness.
2. What advice do you have for someone that is threatened by poetry?
Read more poetry.
3. What is an interesting fact about you?
I used to have a fire engine-red mohawk.
4. Where are you from/Where do you live?
Denver, CO / New York City
5. Who is your favorite poet?
This is an impossible question. The list is immense and shifts with mood.
Today, I feel like saying Adam Falkner. He is outrageously brilliant.
A Poem
Jezebel Revisits the Book of Kings
by Jeanann Verlee
after Roger Bonair-Agard
“For the whole house of Ahab shall perish...and the dogs shall eat Jezebel”
—Book of Kings 2.9, King James Bible
I wouldn't go out frayed and bleating.
Refused to racket or wail. I was a holy woman of Ba’al.
I faced the end in silk and jewels. Posture. Purple.
For this, my name means whore. Means raggedy-dance.
Means black jasmine, means sweat, stamen, ovary. Means pearl
in the wet lap of oysters. My name means ruby-lipped.
I lived in a time of men. I lived in the time of Ahab.
I am a mother of kings. I was born of hurricane and pomegranate.
Fed on the breast, I was maker of milk. I passed the stream
and the nightflowers bent to kiss me. I was evoker of hail.
Windstorm. I prodded the gods and they came. Feasted
at my table. Crowned my husband. Mine is a story of love.
Women who survive the hate of men are named harlot, witch,
Jezebel. (I still hear the dogs.) In a different century, they’d have
burned me. They’d have pressed my body to the river’s floor.
I was a burning fish. Silver flakes trailed in my wake.
I was silkdance and flutter. Maker of tides. Of thorns.
Girls cowered and men flocked. I led armies
on the soft hull of my back. (A powerful woman
is simply one who has not yet died.) Flanked on all sides
by men made furious with envy. Men gone mad.
I did it for Ahab. He came to Ba’al for me.
There is nothing I wouldn’t do. He wanted the castle,
I mortgaged my wrists. He asked for the crown, I slayed
the soldiers. He sought a dynasty, I gave him the globe.
Nothing less than a man would do. (Remember Helen.)
I was ear to the Prophets. Ahab’s wife. Mother to Ahaziah and Jehoram.
Men raised on woman’s sugar tit. Phoenicians with mouths of gold.
I was a woman with hunger. Prophecy.
Scholars name me corrupt. Name me concubine. Hussy.
Charlatan. Tainter of men. My name means wicked. Unholy.
Ahab was my only. His tongue, my tongue. His flesh, my flesh.
I was a woman in love.
They robbed me first of Ahab’s breath. Then my sons.
I wasn't thrown into the pit of dogs.
I dove.
Originally published in Third Coast Magazine and appears in Verlee’s book, Said the Manic to the Muse.
by Jeanann Verlee
after Roger Bonair-Agard
“For the whole house of Ahab shall perish...and the dogs shall eat Jezebel”
—Book of Kings 2.9, King James Bible
I wouldn't go out frayed and bleating.
Refused to racket or wail. I was a holy woman of Ba’al.
I faced the end in silk and jewels. Posture. Purple.
For this, my name means whore. Means raggedy-dance.
Means black jasmine, means sweat, stamen, ovary. Means pearl
in the wet lap of oysters. My name means ruby-lipped.
I lived in a time of men. I lived in the time of Ahab.
I am a mother of kings. I was born of hurricane and pomegranate.
Fed on the breast, I was maker of milk. I passed the stream
and the nightflowers bent to kiss me. I was evoker of hail.
Windstorm. I prodded the gods and they came. Feasted
at my table. Crowned my husband. Mine is a story of love.
Women who survive the hate of men are named harlot, witch,
Jezebel. (I still hear the dogs.) In a different century, they’d have
burned me. They’d have pressed my body to the river’s floor.
I was a burning fish. Silver flakes trailed in my wake.
I was silkdance and flutter. Maker of tides. Of thorns.
Girls cowered and men flocked. I led armies
on the soft hull of my back. (A powerful woman
is simply one who has not yet died.) Flanked on all sides
by men made furious with envy. Men gone mad.
I did it for Ahab. He came to Ba’al for me.
There is nothing I wouldn’t do. He wanted the castle,
I mortgaged my wrists. He asked for the crown, I slayed
the soldiers. He sought a dynasty, I gave him the globe.
Nothing less than a man would do. (Remember Helen.)
I was ear to the Prophets. Ahab’s wife. Mother to Ahaziah and Jehoram.
Men raised on woman’s sugar tit. Phoenicians with mouths of gold.
I was a woman with hunger. Prophecy.
Scholars name me corrupt. Name me concubine. Hussy.
Charlatan. Tainter of men. My name means wicked. Unholy.
Ahab was my only. His tongue, my tongue. His flesh, my flesh.
I was a woman in love.
They robbed me first of Ahab’s breath. Then my sons.
I wasn't thrown into the pit of dogs.
I dove.
Originally published in Third Coast Magazine and appears in Verlee’s book, Said the Manic to the Muse.
A Poet in Action
Check it out
My second book, Said the Manic to the Muse, releases in April from Write Bloody Publishing. Available here!
All news, publications, and upcoming performances posted here.
Also, I make a mean batch of almond sugar drop cookies.
All news, publications, and upcoming performances posted here.
Also, I make a mean batch of almond sugar drop cookies.