Poetry Speaks Who I Am by Elise Paschen

Elise Paschen's Poetry Speaks Who I Am combines written verse with audio recitation of poetry by the poets themselves on CDs spark young readers' love of poetry and verse.  Readers between the ages of 11 and 14 will find poems in this volume that speak to their struggles with love, family, growing into adulthood, and making friends.

"[Paschen says,] For me this poetry is life altering.  It's gritty.  It's difficult.  And it hurts in all the ways that growing hurts.  It's meant to be visceral and immediate.  It's meant to be experienced."  (Page XI)

Gritty and real are the best terms to describe the struggles within these lines of verse, from being the only white kid in school to being a Black person at a time when political correctness suggests you are African-America.  But more than that, there are poems about bra shopping -- the stepping stones of becoming a woman -- and the realization that the world is not perfect and that wars do exist.

Bra Shopping by Parneshia Jones  (Page 16)

Mama and I enter into no man's, and I mean no man in sight, land
of frilly lace, night gowns, grandma panties, and support everything.

A wall covered with hundreds of white bras, some with lace, ribbons,
and frills like party favors, as if bras are a cause for celebration.

Some have these dainty ditsy bows in the middle.
That's a nice accent don't you think? Mama says.  Isn't that cute?
Like a dumb bow in the middle of the bra will take away some of the
attention from two looking, bulging tissues.

Full of wit and sarcasm, this poem illustrates the angst and embarrassment of the narrator as she shops for bras with her mother under the watchful eye of the sales clerk. A number of poems illustrate these feelings of awkwardness and tenderness between friends and parents.

The audio CD that comes with the book is stunning as each poem is read with emphasis and care either by the poet themselves or a contemporary counterpart.  In some cases, the poems are accompanied by ambient noise and/or nature sounds.  Some poems will garner young readers' attentions more than others, but overall the CD works.

Used Book Shop by X.J. Kennedy (Page 108)

Stashed in attics,
stuck in cellars,
forgotten books
once big best-sellers

now hopefully sit
where folks, like cows
in grassy meadows,
stand and browse.

In a yellowed old history
of Jesse James
two earlier owners
had scrawled their names.

I even found
a book my dad
when he was in high school
had once had,

and a book I found --
this is really odd --
was twice as much fun
as my new iPod.

I always get hooked
in this dusty shop.
Like eating popcorn,
it's hard to stop.

Poetry Speaks Who I Am is a wonderful collection of classic and contemporary poems from the likes of Langston Hughes and Lucille Clifton to the contemporary works of Billy Collins and Molly Peacock.  Each poem will reach out to young adolescents in new and exciting ways, having them nod their heads in agreement as emotions, situations, and dilemmas are unleashed in verse.  Moreover, the poems selected in this volume will not have readers scratching their heads, wondering what it all means.  These poems are straight forward and get to the heart of the adolescent matter.

FTC Disclosure: Thanks to Sourcebooks for sending me a free copy of Poetry Speaks Who I Am for review.  Clicking on title and image links will lead you to my Amazon Affiliate page; No purchase necessary, though appreciated.

© 2010, Serena Agusto-Cox of Savvy Verse & Wit. All Rights Reserved. If you're reading this on a site other than Savvy Verse & Wit or Serena's Feed, be aware that this post has been stolen and is used without permission.

Sonnets for Sinners by John Wareham

John Wareham's Sonnets for Sinners is a book of poems I would recommend to those who enjoy reading sonnets, who love poetry, and those who are just starting to read poetry.  Wareham includes the classic sonnets of William Shakespeare and William Yeats, but he also crafts new sonnets from the words (available in the public domain) of famous figures, like Tiger Woods (click to read the poem Wareham created from Woods' words), Elizabeth and John Edwards, and Princess Diana.

What's most unique about this volume is the insight provided by Wareham.  He analyzes each poem, offers up lines that illustrate his examinations, and even poses questions that illicit laughter.

Discussing Shakespeare's Sonnet 129:  "To begin with, says the poet, sinners bypass rationality -- past reason hunted -- then, the moment the lusty act is completed they unreasonably despise themselves -- past reason hated -- for succumbing to a swallowed bait on purpose laid to make the taker mad.  The devil made me do it!"  (Page 11)

Sonnets for Sinners is broken down, categorizing sonnets into attractions, fevers, lamentations, farewells, endings, and epiphanies.  For anyone interested in reading more poetry, particularly classic sonnets and classic poets, readers would enjoy the commentary from Wareham.  It is not only informative, but witty.   

Kind Cuts by Chandler Haste (page 66)

"I don't want to hurt or abandon you
-- so what to do?" you ask.  Well maybe first
drop me into a pot of boiling glue
then have a witch doctor apply a curse.
Or when that fails and I rise in pursuit
of you, have a firebug set me aflame.
Or cut out my tongue and render me mute
then poke out my eyes and publish my shame.
Or, here's aptly felicitious fate
for this hopelessly addicted lover:
Bobbitting!  -- that could be the kindest bite
to slice me out from under your thumb of.
Off the top of my head that's my advice,
Bow to it gently, and in love, rejoice.

Despite the mix of contemporary and classic sonnets, I think there is enough in here to count for the contemporary poetry challenge, and this makes book #13.

This is my 1st book for the Clover Bee & Reverie Poetry Challenge.

This is my 12th new-to-me author for the 2010 New Authors Challenge.

FTC Disclosure:  I received a free copy of Sonnets for Sinners by John Wareham from publicist Sara Hausman at Meryl L. Moss Media Relations, Inc.  Clicking on title links or images will bring you to my Amazon Affiliate page; No purchase necessary.

Interview With Moira Egan

I thought I would do a little something different today as part of FreeVerse over at Ooh...Books.

Bar Napkin Sonnet #17
We pause in conversation and the air
around us stills. It feels as if a globe
of yellow light’s enveloped us, alone,
and everyone around has disappeared.
His callused hand is gentle in my hair.
He’s only twenty-five, yet somehow knows
to kiss me now: “It feels like we’re alone.”
(I halfway fall in love with him right there.)
He’s never been to Europe, so we drink
sangria made of white wine, brandy, pears
and apples. "It’s the sugar in the fruit
that gets you gone," I tell him, as I think
tonight he’s going to travel. Then we share
an eau-de-vie, ephemeral as youth.

Here's part of my interview with Moira Egan at 32 Poems Blog.

How would you introduce yourself to a crowded room eager to hang on your every word? Are you just a poet, what else should people know about you?
 
My father was a poet, so I guess I can say I was infused with the Muse through nature and nurture both. That didn’t make it any easier, and there have been years-long stretches when I didn’t even consider myself a poet, didn’t want to be a poet. But here I am.

And here means Rome, where I live with my husband, Damiano Abeni, who, when he is not being an epidemiologist, is (if I may say so) a very well respected translator of American poetry into Italian. He’s done books of poems by Mark Strand, Elizabeth Bishop, Charles Simic, C.K Williams, and many others, and now I am happy to say that he translates my work as well. In fact, now he and I also work as a team on translations, going in both directions, but mostly from English into Italian. Together we worked on Un mondo che non può essere migliore: Poesie scelte 1956-2007, a substantial selection of poems by John Ashbery, which just won a Special Prize from the Premio Napoli. We have several translation projects on the front and back burners, and next summer we will spend a month at the Rockefeller Foundation’s Bellagio Center, translating the “Italian” poems of Charles Wright.

Do you have any obsessions that you would like to share?

They’re there in the poems.

How do you stay fit and healthy as a writer?

Living in the land of pasta, that’s a constant, uphill battle. I try to take a good long walk every day, and it’s true enough that crossing the street in Rome is an Extreme Sport: very aerobic, even if you didn’t mean it to be. I also enjoy yoga.



What current projects are you working on and would you like to share some details with the readers? 

I am a very superstitious poet, so I am not going to say what I am working on right now, but I can happily say that my chapbook, Bar Napkin Sonnets, has just been published by The Ledge (where it won the 2008 Chapbook Competition) and that SPIN, another full-length collection will be coming out from Entasis Press in spring 2010.

To find out her favorite foods, about her writing space, and more, read the full interview.

FTC Disclosure: Clicking on title links or images will bring you to my Amazon Affiliate page; No purchase necessary.

Zombie Haiku by Ryan Mecum

Ryan Mecum's Zombie Haiku is another fun volume of loose-form haiku, like his recent publication Vampire Haiku (click for my review).  In the initial pages, readers learn that the journal is that of Chris Lynch, and the initial haiku spotlight the beauty of nature coupled with Polaroid images and are interspersed with comments from Lynch about his impending death and transformation.

The bird flew away
with more than just my bread crumbs.
He took my sorrow.  (Page 2)

Readers see first hand the spread of the zombies throughout the city and how they stagger after their latest victims.  Finally, Lynch is attacked himself, bleeding to death from a hole in his neck, before turning into the beings he sees taking over the human race.  Struggling with his transformation, he writes haiku about his love for his mother, and the strength he feels even as he withers and becomes a cannibal.

My lungs slow and stop
and I can't find my heartbeat
but I'm still hungry.  (Page 30)

With his jaw snapped off
he can't bite into people,
which means more for me.  (Page 66)

Readers may find that some haiku are not as well formed as others, but that may be because zombies have a mostly one-track mind -- brains or eating brains.  Overall, Zombie Haiku is not as engaging as Vampire Haiku was, though in small doses the haiku can be amusing. 

I'm counting this as my 12th book for the poetry reading challenge.



FTC Disclosure:  I purchased my copy of Zombie Haiku by Ryan Mecum.  Clicking on title links or images will bring you to my Amazon Affiliate page; No purchase necessary.

FreeVerse: Copper Peaches by Serena M. Agusto-Cox

Every Wednesday, Ooh. . .Books! hosts FreeVerse where participants share their favorite poems with readers.  Thanks to Cara for hosting FreeVerse.

Today, I thought I would share a poem I had published many years ago in Beginnings Magazine. 

Copper Peaches

Slipped through my fingers,
brown without rainbow dye,
they are brittle and become dust in hand.

An empty peach hourglass.

The chill was sharper than
an ax on a grinding wheel.
Sunlight seeped through cracks,
set these dead leaves afire.

Dark green canopies shelter my way-
deeper behind the farmhouse.
Sunlight sparkles on wrinkled foil,
Caesar’s victory crown, still
untouched.
The blustery wind blows,
dries their skin,
stings my lungs.
They sway clumsily in the draft,
so weighted, they fall.
Ballerinas in Swan Lake
skate across glazed ice
lighter than parchment, but
heavier than air.
Rest upon the ground
bruised from impact and careless trampling
Swiss cheese foil
bronzed and useless for wrapping.

I’ve walked down this wooded way
lined with pine guards armed with sharp needles.
Carelessly treading on crisp rice
echoing pain in the shade.

What do you think?  Have you shared a poem with your readers today?

Vampire Haiku by Ryan Mecum

Ryan Mecum's Vampire Haiku mixes humor and poetry in diary form for vampire William Butten, who was turned in 1620.  He falls in love with a beautiful woman on the Mayflower named Katherine, who turned him into a vampire.  Soon he's parted from his love to roam America on his own and make his own friends.  There are tales of some well known historic figures from Davy Crockett to Amelia Earhart and famous events in history like the Civil War and Woodstock.

Readers may initialy be attracted to the cover haiku, which also appears on page 37:

"You know that your drink
is down to the last few sips
once the toes curl up."

Butten has a twisted sense of humor, but readers will enjoy is little anecdotes about becoming a vampire and bumbling around learning how to feed, etc.  Mecum uses his linguistic and historic knowledge to create fun and witty haiku.  Although they are not precisely haiku in the traditional sense, they mostly adhere to the form's syllable count.  It is fun to see Butten reveal insider knowledge about the deaths of Davy Crockett and other major historical figures.  In some cases, the poems will have readers cringing in disgust.

"Discarded band-aids
are rare unexpected treats.
My version of gum."  (page 113)

There are even moments in the book where the vampire makes fun of the modern vampire crazes from the goth kids to the latest vampire movies.  One of the best haiku in the book is about the Twilight movie:

"Those were not vampires.
If sunlight makes you sparkle,
you're a unicorn."  (page 117)

Will Butten ever find his true love, Katherine, or will he stop searching for her and settle down? Overall, those interested in humor and vampires will find Vampire Haiku to be a treat.  I'm looking forward to reading Ryan Mecum's Zombie Haiku next.

I'm counting this as my 11th book for the poetry reading challenge.

By the way, I unintentionally read 100 books this year and reviewed all 100!  This is quite an accomplishment for me, since I'm a slower reader than most.  Yipee!


FTC Disclosure:  I purchased my copy of Vampire Haiku by Ryan Mecum.  Clicking on title links or images will bring you to my Amazon Affiliate page; No purchase necessary.

Words That Burn Within Me by Hilda Stern Cohen

Hilda Stern Cohen's Words That Burn Within Me is a collection of photographs, essays, stories, snippets of interviews, and poems detailing Cohen's experiences during WWII and the Holocaust as a German resident.  (Please check out a recent reading from the book at The Writer's Center).  Cohen's husband, whom she married in Baltimore, Md., in 1948 following her release, discovered her notebooks after her death and set about his journey to have his wife's writing translated from German and published.  In some cases, the poems are included both in English and in German.

"Our physiognomies were ageless.  There were wild, unfocused eyes, silent, indrawn lips, and haggardness around the cheek and neck . . . only defined and exaggerated by hunger." (Page 49)

This harrowing story follows Hilda through her early years in Nieder-Ohmen, Germany, and her transfer to schools in Frankfurt as the Nazis gained power.  From Frankfurt, she is transported with her family and young beau Horst to Lodz, Poland, only to face devastating circumstances, the loss of Horst, and more and be transported to Auschwitz.  In a series of essays and interviews, Hilda talks about happier times in her village and with her sister, the trials of childhood and being bullied, but soon the reality of politics sets in and her family is forced to leave their ancestral home.

Forced Labor (Page 54)

My numbed brow drops on the machine,
I fold my captive, tired hands.

A dangling yellow bulb sheds smoky light,
Dusk falls, the day grows pale.

The harried working hours are almost done,
The evening mist is waiting to embrace us.

What binds us in our common chains
Will only hold us while we work --
Night will find each of us in separate gloom.

Cohen's writing is sparse but detailed in its observations of those around her in the ghetto and the concentration camps.  Her keen eye examines the impact of starvation on her fellow neighbors and on her family members, and it also sheds light on how well her family and herself cope with their situation.  She eventually teaches herself Yiddish after joining a literary group because she only speaks and writes German, which is not what the majority of the Lodz Ghetto understands.  Readers, however, will note a sense of detachment in her writing, almost as if she is reporting the events as she observed them rather than as she felt them.  On the other hand, they will hear the anger and disappointment in her voice, especially when she speaks of the last words her father utters about her mother upon her death.

"There was a strange role reversal that took place psychologically, as it did also later in the camps.  Adults who had lived a life from which they had gained certain expectations were suddenly confronted with an abyss.  There were no signs, no gateposts, none of the usual milestones that one could follow.  Everything had fallen away."  (Page 33)

Words That Burn Within Me is well assembled mixture of interviews with Hilda Stern Cohen's essays, stories and poems.  While the collection does illustrate one Jewish woman's journey during WWII and the Holocaust, it stands as a testament -- a record -- of how inexcusably these humans were treated and how their debasement impacted their lives, their relationships, their faith, and their souls.  Through well tuned description and controlled emotions, Cohen takes the time to record everything she saw during the war and the Holocaust to ensure that it becomes a warning to others.  A powerful collection and a must read for anyone learning about this time period and the horrors that should never have happened.

This is my 10th book for the WWII Reading Challenge at War Through the Generations!

I'm not sure if this will qualify for the Poetry Review Challenge, but if it does, this will be book #10.


 FTC Disclosure:  I purchased my copy of Words That Burn Within Me from The Writer's Center following a reading by Hilda Stern Cohen's husband and her interviewer Gail Rosen.  Clicking on image and title links will bring you to my Amazon Affiliate page; No purchases necessary.

Holocaust Poetry Complied by Hilda Schiff

Holocaust Poetry compiled by and introduced by Hilda Schiff is a collection of poetry dealing with World War II and the Holocaust.  The compilation is divided into six sections:  Alienation; Persecution; Rescuers, Bystanders, Perpetrators; Afterwards; Second Generation; and Lessons.  There are well-known poems in this collection and poems from young children.  A few of the poems in this collection already have been featured on the blog as part of the Virtual Poetry Circle; check out "If" by Edward Bond and "The Butterfly" by Pavel Friedmann.

Each poem in the collection uses all-too-familiar images to demonstrate connections with family, friends, and strangers. and as each poem unfolds readers feel the devastation and hopelessness of each narrator.  Schiff says in the introduction, "The more or less contemporaneous literature of any period of history is not only an integral part of that period, but it also allows us to understand historical events and experiences better than the bare facts alone can do because they enable us to absorb them inwardly."  More or less, readers of poetry will find these observations valid, as will readers of fiction.

However, there are moments of levity when narrators poke fun at the devastating events of Nazi Germany's actions.

The Burning of the Books (Page 8)

When the Regime commanded that books with harmful knowledge
Should be publicly burned on all sides
Oxen were forced to drag cart loads of books
To the bonfires, a banished
Writer, one of the best, scanning the list of the
Burned, was shocked to find that his
Books had been passed over.  He rushed to his desk
On wings of wrath, and wrote a letter to those in power.
Burn me! he wrote with flying pen, burn me.  Haven't my
  books
Always reported the truth? And here you are
Treating me like a liar! I command you:
Burn me!

Beyond the poems in the collection depicting the horrors and the losses of persecuted people in Germany, the poems of bystanders, perpetrators, and others are surprising.  They talk of how they stood by and did nothing, how they want to help even if they are too late.  Despite the time for help being long passed, these narrators express not guilt so much as regret -- a deep regret at having been so paralyzed by fear that they did nothing or acted contrary to who they believed themselves to be.

I Did Not Manage to Save (page 86)

I did not manage to save
a single life

I did not know how to stop
a single bullet

and I wander round cemeteries
which are not there

I look for words
which are not there
I run

to help where no one called
to rescue after the event

I want to be on time
even if I am too late

The poems selected for the "Second Generation" section will tug at readers heart strings, deepening the sense of loss.  An emptiness is present in some of these poems.  Short biographies are included at the back of the book for readers interested in the poets' lives and connections to WWII and the Holocaust.

Holocaust Poetry is a collection that should be read in chunks rather than all at once.  Readers may succumb to sorrow if they attempt to read the entire collection in once sitting, but even then, readers will fall into the darkness and emerge in the light.  Overall, the collection is a must have for anyone interested in this time period and learning more about how WWII and the Holocaust impacted individual lives and families.

This is the 9th book I've read that qualifies for the 2009 WWII Reading Challenge.  Though I officially met my goal of reading 5 WWII-related books some time ago, I've continued to find them on my shelves and review them here.

This also qualifies as my 9th book for the Poetry review challenge.

FTC Disclosure:  I purchased my copy of Holocaust Poetry compiled by Hilda Schiff at the local library sale.  Clicking on title links will bring you to my Amazon Affiliate page, no purchase necessary.

Interview With Poet Liz Gallagher, Part 2

Liz Gallagher's collection of poems, The Wrong Miracle, are not only love poems, but poems with a unique view on love.  Check out the synopsis at Salt Publishing.

If you missed the first part of my interview with Liz, please check it out here.

Most writers will read inspirational/how-to manuals, take workshops, or belong to writing groups. Did you subscribe to any of these aids and if so which did you find most helpful? Please feel free to name any "writing" books you enjoyed most (i.e. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott).

I've never been a member of a 'real-life' writer's group because of there not being any that I know of in existence here in the Canaries. I've only ever been to one or two workshops. My mainstay for writing has been online workshops, namely Inside the Writers´ Studio Forum that is run by Rachel Mallino.  I've had lots of inspiring experiences in there on the thirty poems in thirty days forum.  I've  also dipped into some writing manuals . . . one in particular that I found very useful at the beginning was "The Practice of Poetry" edited by Robin Behin & Chase Twichell.

When writing poetry, prose, essays, and other works do you listen to music, do you have a particular playlist for each genre you work in or does the playlist stay the same? What are the top 5 songs on that playlist? If you don't listen to music while writing, do you have any other routines or habits?

I don't listen to music when writing, I need complete silence, which means I can only really 'write, write' in my writing den at home. : ) I drink tea too. Most of the poems in The Wrong Miracle were written while my cat, Mr. Puss, sat alongside me purring and kneading the cushion, sadly, he is no longer with us, that may be why I am finding it very hard to find time and the will to sit down and write just now. I definitely miss him, he was my writing mascot. 

In terms of friendships, have your friendships changed since you began focusing on writing? Are there more writers among your friends or have your relationships remained the same?

My 'real-life' friends are mostly non-writers but great readers. Practically all of  my online friendships are with writers. I have met some online writer friends in person who have then become 'real life' writer friends. 

Do you have any favorite foods or foods that you find keep you inspired? What are the ways in which you pump yourself up to keep writing and overcome writer's block?

No, no favourite foods.  I don't really believe in the idea of having to wait for inspiration to hit. There may be times when I feel more in the humour for writing than others but in general, I think it is a case of just getting started and keeping with it for a set time to see what comes up.  Reading usually kick-starts me into wanting to write.  And a commitment to daily writing is really the ideal way for me to keep going.

Please describe your writing space and how it would differ from your ideal writing space. 

I love the writing space I have: futon, laptop, low-level lighting, quietness, a valley and vivid natural light on the doorstep.  I can't think of anything else to add other than having a constant supply of tea at hand, and maybe the sound of the faint pull and sway of the sea outside.  : ) 

Please share with the Savvy Verse & Wit readers a little about your latest projects.

For the next 6 months, I'll be involved in 'non-creative writing' writerly things, but come July 2010, I want to revise a load of poems that I have and begin writing more non-fiction. I am also toying with the idea of writing poems and stories for children. I'll have to wait and see though;it seems very far off just now.

Plans for the immediate future include some readings of The Wrong Miracle that are coming up here in the Canaries. 

Thanks very much for having me here on your Blog, Serena, it has been a pleasure, I have enjoyed your thought-provoking questions. Have a great festive season and all the best for the New Year. 

If you've enjoyed this interview, please feel free to check out the next stop on her online tour today, Dec. 17:  South Africa-based Michelle's Blog Peony Moon. 

Also, I wanted to let you all know that a portion of the proceeds from The Wrong Miracle will benefit SAND:  Stillbirth and Neo-natal Death Charity.

Interview With Liz Gallagher, Author of The Wrong Miracle

Liz Gallagher's collection of poems, The Wrong Miracle, are not only love poems, but poems with a unique view on love.  Check out the synopsis at Salt Publishing.  Here's a selection from her collection:

Sun Over a Tree Line

I was buying a croissant when I saw
the execution photo. Sometimes we focus
on the explorer — the tangled weed inside

every Because they said so. Nerves can
be as frayed as a sofa. Faint hoof prints
take over and a last wish for a dictator

is a pedicure. Measures of change are
contained in names once held
in a cell phone — a baker missing,

a family, moved. A city under siege
is a Humpty Dumpty — its people grab
door handles and door frames collapse.

Moth-eaten fabric covers all wars.
A problem is dead bodies — blankets
waterlog, headlights turn off and it is

all about inching forward like thieves.
A mistake magnifies within its own
dimensions. Under the gaze of a camera,

there are epiphanies — God becomes
a ragged fellow who moves
from tree to tree in the back of the mind.

He pursues the living and the dead stay dead.

Liz Gallagher took time out of her busy schedule to answer some interview questions.  I hope you will give her a warm welcome.

Thanks for inviting me here. It's a great looking Blog and I know I am going to feel very relaxed and at home here.

Could you describe a little bit about what inspired you to become a poet and how The Wrong Miracle came about?

Well, Serena, truthfully, I never set out to be a poet as such, it sort of 'happened.'  I've always loved writing and after a spell of maybe 20 years without writing in a creative way, I found myself going back to writing creatively after I went through a rather long and disciplined time of studying and being very much in the academic world., that is up until about 4 years ago.  I remember being at a beach barbeque and thinking: 'Freedom' 'I'm going to live for the moment, no more studying' and actually saying to a friend that I was finished with studying and being all academic and I remember she said to me something in the line of 'You're so disciplined in your study, what do you think you will do with all that free time you are going to have?' And I remember answering that that was exactly it . . . free-time was going to be free-time and nothing was going to take that away from me!  But before I knew it, I was seeking out online writing forums and writing poetry and getting ultra-involved and addicted.

So as not to bore any readers who have been lovely enough (and interested enough) to follow the tour from the beginning, and to answer the question for you, Serena, (and any new readers who might be following,) I spoke on TFE's blog about how The Wrong Miracle came about....(at TFE's we had a poetry poteen party and danced till dawn . . . The address is the following if you want to pop over there.   While approaching the answer, mind the poteen bottles and plead total ignorance of everything if Inspector Columbo or Inspector Clousseau approach to ask questions . . . 'I know nothing' is the preferred answer . . . . TFE will explain why . . . I truly know nothing ; ))

Poetry is often considered elitist or inaccessible by mainstream readers. Do poets have an obligation to dispel that myth and how do you think it could be accomplished?

I think that, yes, poetry up until recently had been hijacked (and consequently suffocated and quietened) by certain academics to the extent that it had become exclusive terrain. This is something which definitely has happened, however, poets are now, literally, re-claiming poetry for themselves and for their audiences.  They are metaphorically (and sometimes literally) climbing academic ladders and dusting down books and blowing dust off and saying 'Listen, here!'  Poets, and consequently, people in general, through poetry readings and poetry performances and literary festivals are breathing life back into poetry and taking it on to the streets to show that, yeah, poetry does matter.  It is not just a subject for academic study.  The thing that I feel amazed by and very motivated by is that people are willing to give poetry a second chance, as most people (of my age, anyway) would have had awful classroom experiences of poetry been analysed to death in an excrutiatingly boring way . . . I remember my English teacher in secondary school saying something like: 'None of you are going to appreciate any of this poetry that we are about to do now, but in 20 years time, you might want to re-pay all of this a visit . . . and in doing so, you might remember me and what I said to you regarding poetry.'  I remember thinking I am going to remember him saying this and I bet to myself then and there that it wouldn't be true . . . that I wouldn't be going within a hair's breadth of poetry ever again . . . but here I am!  What a shame a teacher like that couldn't have thought of a more creative way to get poetry to us, we were ripe for poetry with all our 16 and 17 year old emotions seeking some form of outlet . . . Poetry, with justice done to it, would have been ideal here.  

So, Serena, basically, with the live poetry scene taking off really well, especially in Ireland, and in a tiny way, here in the Canaries, I think that poetry is becoming relevant in people's everyday life.  Hopefully, it will keep on happening and that more and more people will get involved.

Do you have any obsessions that you would like to share?

Well, let's see, I love the dark and writing in and into the dark.  I love being up drinking tea on my own at dawn.  

When I find a new poet's work that I love, I become easily obsessed by them and seek their work out, high and low, and think 'I've got to read everything they have ever written!'

Also chocolate at around 5 pm!  And a glass of wine at 10 pm. ; ) And also Thai massage, Thailand . . . and planning getaways! : ) 

How do you stay fit and healthy as a writer?

I have got two very demanding (and very amusing) dogs who bark the house down if I don't take them on daily treks into the valley.  We also own a tumble-down farm so most days I try to do something there to make it less tumble-down looking!  The farm has six terraces which are step-like land masses and going from one spot to another involves lots of climbing.  And I eat lots of oranges because we have about twenty orange trees on the farm so that means oranges the whole year round!  Oh and yes!  I'm a 2-litre-a-day water drinker . . . I am always to be seen with a bottle in my hand (not the TFE-poteen-party type bottle!) 

Thank you so much for having me here, Serena...looking forward to popping back next week to continue our chat.

About the Poet: (Photo Credit: Vladi Valido)

Liz Gallagher was born and brought up in Donegal, Ireland. She has been living in Gran Canary Island for the past 14 years. She has an Education degree where she specialised in Irish language. She also has a Computer Science degree. She is at present doing research into online debating for her PhD. She began writing about 5 years ago and has won a variety of awards in both Ireland and the US: Best New Poet 2007 (Meridian Press, Virginia University) First Prize in The Listowel Writers’ Single Poem Competition 2009 and she was selected by Poetry Ireland for their 2009 Introductions Series in recognition of her status as an emerging poet.

At the Threshold of Alchemy by John Amen

the woman in the shower (Page 36)

the woman in the shower washes herself constantly and never ages.  she
scrubs her nails, shampoos her hair, lathers her body.  she's attractive, and
many serenade her, offering love songs in various languages.  newspapers
send interviewers to ascertain her greater mission.  she receives letters from
admirers around the world.  political and religious leaders pay a visit.  a few
crazies try to break into the shower stall and molest the woman, but guards
throw them out.  one man masturbates, shooting his seed onto the glass
before he is arrested.  nothing, though, distracts or fazes the woman in the
shower.  she keeps lathering and scrubbing and rinsing.  generations pass;
the woman is considered a saint of sorts, her shower stall a mecca.  it's 
assumed, finally, that the woman in the shower, the woman who never 
stops washing, has always been, always will be.  she's a timeless fact, like air
or war or hunger or god.

At the Threshold of Alchemy by John Amen conjures profound statements about the human condition often from unusual or incongruous elements in nature, pop culture, and religion.  Many of these poems comment on the darker side of humanity, and the narrator tends to seek out destruction and mischief.  There are some longer poems in the collection that could become tedious for certain readers, but taken in slowly -- one section at a time -- readers can delve deeper into the verse.

". . . Mary plants clematis and bougainvillea.
I'm writing ballads on a '71 Gibson.  We're purchasing
mulch, two tons of soil.  We're collecting ripe moments,"  (Portraits of Mary, Page 43)

Vivid images and situations permeate these pages, and Amen is a poet prepared to comment on the taboo or the elephant in the room.  Several poems titled "missive" address unknown recipients and offer harsh criticisms in which the sarcastic undertones is palpable.

"Had I known you were more concerned with baubles
than the outcomes of the election, I'd have planned
to craft a wreath for the occasion.  Bless tabloids
and puppet governments, I take my salvation as
I can get it."  (Missive #12, Page 68)

Musical elements also weave their way into the poems, much like they did in Amen's More of Me Disappears (click for my review).  Entwined with these musical lines, readers will note an atmosphere of self-deprecation created by the narrator's repentance or observations.

"Forgive me for eating this bountiful meal.
Forgive me for sleeping beneath this roof.
Forgive me for making love to my wife.
Forgive me for everything I fail to see and do
and avenge.  Forgive me for this insular life."  (Rampage, Page 24) 

At the Threshold of Alchemy by John Amen is a collection that readers will need to let simmer, breathing in each line like an exotic incense.  Readers can read each poem in this collection more than once and still uncover new layers of meaning.  From short poems to long poems, this collection has a variety to please a multitude of readers. 

***On a side note, At the Threshold of Alchemy is published on acid-free, recycled paper.***  Ever since the Green Books Campaign, I've been keeping a watchful eye on my books to see what their "green" properties may be.

FTC Disclosure:  I received a free copy of At the Threshold of Alchemy from the poet John Amen for review.  Additionally, title and image links will bring readers to my Amazon Affiliate page; no purchases are necessary, but are appreciated to cover the costs of international giveaway shipping.

I read this book as part of the recent Thankfully Reading Weekend Challenge.  Did you participate?  Which books did you read?  I only read two.

This also qualifies as my 8th book for the Poetry review challenge.

Interview With Poet Temple Cone

Temple Cone recently agreed to an interview with myself and 32 Poems. And here is what he had to say.

How would you introduce yourself to a crowded room eager to hang on your every word? Are you just a poet, what else should people know about you?

I love telling people that I’m a poet. Just a poet. Not vaguing it up by saying that I’m a “writer” or qualifying it by adding that I’m a professor of English at the U.S. Naval Academy. I think that, deep down, people appreciate the uselessness of poetry, its lack of clear market value and profit potential. “For poetry makes nothing happen,” as Auden said in his elegy for Yeats, adding a little later that poetry is “A way of happening, a mouth.” For just a moment, they encounter something that can’t really be bought and sold, or at least not dearly.

Some people feel a bit threatened by that, or indifferent to it, but most are curious, and then a little amazed, as if they’d just met someone who could photosynthesize and therefore didn’t need to spend time working in order to buy food. Of course, the question “How can you live on that?” inevitably comes up, to which I always say, “Prize money.” That way they get the impression that they’ve met a really good poet. And who knows, maybe they’ll look me up.

Most writers will read inspirational/how-to manuals, take workshops, or belong to writing groups. Did you subscribe to any of these aids and if so which did you find most helpful? Please feel free to name any “writing” books you enjoyed most (i.e. Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott).

I completed two graduate degrees in creative writing (one at Hollins, one at UVA), and while I’d say I write quite differently from how I wrote back then, I think that those workshop experiences were crucial for me, because they allowed me to accelerate through many styles (and errors) that likely would have taken me a decade to reach, let alone write through.

Before that time, I was a bit isolated as a writer (I wasn’t even an English major in college), but I was lucky in the writing books I encountered, and a few have stuck with me. When I began writing poetry in college, a close professor friend of mine sent some of my poems to James Merrill, who was a good friend of his. Merrill sent me some very encouraging letters, along with a copy of John Hollander’s Rhyme’s Reason, which I read religiously for years. Richard Hugo’s The Triggering Town was a wonderful practical aid, and Hugo’s wry gruffness made him a good companion during less productive stretches. I’m also truly thankful for my copy of Walter Skeat’s Etymological Dictionary of the English Language, which I delve into constantly, stunned by the marvelous ways our words refer to ‘the things of this world.’ And these days, the book that’s most on my mind is Robert Bly’s Leaping Poetry; Bly is wonderful when one doesn’t take him too seriously.

How do you stay fit and healthy as a writer?

I run (rather slowly these days), and whenever I’m stalled on a line, I do push-ups. Eat well, etc. Try to stay away from booze, but coffee’s another story.  

A Psalm Before Healing

A bowl of noodles with oil and sesame on a drizzly night,
A mug of scalding coffee, a braid of chala from the neighbor,
These small services uphold the firmament of stars, selah.
Never forget that the dove grieves but won’t share her story.
The hunters never understand. When she bolts skyward,
She is the skiff the exile rows through morning rain, selah.
How lissom the homerun swing of the left-handed catcher,
As if his bat had caught a comet’s arc and made it shine.
He shall never read this poem or know his own grace, selah.
With its notched legs, the Jerusalem cricket can’t help but sing.
The Alps can’t help but storm. The corn can’t help but grow.
The world is a second language we can’t help but speak, selah.
Once healed, the blind must be taught the ways of vision.
Diamonds in a green cloud are sunlight showing through leaves.
They learn, but dream of seeing in the dark once more, selah.
Just when you think you’re coming to the end of these poems,
Of your life, of a bowl of noodles, there’s an unexpected sweetness,
A last trace of oil you can sop with a handful of bread, selah.

If you've enjoyed Temple's answers so far, I suggest you check out the rest of my interview with him over at 32 Poems Blog. Once there, you can find out about his workspace, inspirations, and much more. Feel free to leave me comments about his interview or your thoughts on poetry in general.

About the Poet:

Temple Cone is an associate professor of English at the United States Naval Academy.  His first book of poems, No Loneliness, received the first annual Future Cycle Poetry Book Award in 2009.

Awards for his work include two Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Prizes in 2007 and 2008, the Christian Publishers Poetry Prize in 2008, a Maryland State Arts Council (MSAC) Individual Artist Award in Poetry in 2007, and the John Lehman Award in Poetry from the Wisconsin Academy Review.

Cone holds a PhD in English from the University of Wisconsin, an MFA in creative writing from the University of Virginia, an MA in creative writing from Hollins University, and a BA in philosophy from Washington and Lee University.  He lives in Annapolis with his wife and daughter.

Fair Creatures of an Hour by Lynn Levin

Lynn Levin's Fair Creatures of an Hour is a collection of poetry that draws on current events -- Smarty Jones in "Little Red Telegram" and skydivers Sara Loshe and Ron Samac in "Freefall" -- imagery, and culture to draw in its readers.  Levin intertwines traditional Jewish rituals and stories into her poems, and interjects a fresh perspective.  Readers will intimately understand her and mimic her lines.

"What finer thing is there than to pour out
your thoughts and have someone drink
of your meaning?
It is better than being loved
I sometimes think
for love is not everything."  (Page 61, "I Wanted to Tell You")

Levin creates a wistful atmosphere in some of her poems, but easily turns that into something playful.  Even in her most serious poems, Levin cultivates an undercurrent of sarcasm, playfulness, and hope.  From "Peace Is the Blithe Distraction," Levin repeats the word "peace" and uses each subsequent line to illustrate what peace can mean to even the worst of enemies and how hope plays an integral role.

On the other hand, her humor is ever present as she begins more than one poem with horoscope predictions and planet alignments.  Readers will enjoy the wit shown in these poems and will nod in agreement with many of them.  Levin has an eye for the human condition and the emotions, even those not most desirable. 

The White Puzzle (Page 42)

To love jigsaw puzzles, you have to love trouble --
the mad messing of a picture, the slow steps back to art.
Years ago, my brother and I spent hours
breaking up then piecing back
The Skating Pond by Currier & Ives,
Remington's The Old Stage-Coach of the Plains --
the cardboard pieces colonizing
the game table in the family room.
There was satisfaction in the fitting together
the doing of the definite task
then some days of admiration
of the solved thing before the sundering.
Once someone gave us a white puzzle,
a real head-breaker, the blank pieces
many and small like the counties of a state.
This was fitting for the sake of fitting.
No art in it that we could see, but we stuck to it,
and after a while the pieces began to clump together
like new snow on the lawn.
I remember the way our small talk
scribbled itself over the gathering page:
something about a math bee and Old Man Sprague
who kept sheep in his backyard and had a gun.
We nibbled popcorn, made Montana take shape
with its three sides and human profile,
the pieces knit like bone.
When the white puzzle was complete
we loved the way it lay like moonlight on the floor
then sat before our conquered space,
two Alexanders wanting more.

The poet includes references and explanations in the back of Fair Creatures of an Hour, of which the title is taken from a John Keats poem, "When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be."  Levin's collection is about embracing the moment and being comfortable with oneself before fate steps in.  Well worth reading again and again, Levin's collection will leave readers wanting more.

Please check out 20th Virtual Poetry Circle for a discussion of Levin's "Helium."  Also, for another review, please check out The Pedestal Magazine.  Stay tuned for an interview with Lynn Levin.

I want to thank the poet, Lynn Levin, and Arlene Ang for setting me up with a free copy for review. 

This is my 7th book for the poetry review challenge.

Interview With Poet Kelle Groom

Kelle Groom recently agreed to an interview with myself and 32 Poems. And here is what she had to say.

How would you introduce yourself to a crowded room eager to hang on your every word? Are you just a poet, what else should people know about you?

I also write personal essays/memoir. For the last year, I’ve been poetry editor for The Florida Review, and have now shifted into an advisory editor position. I work full-time as the Grants & Communications Manager for Atlantic Center for the Arts, an international artists-in-residence program in New Smyrna Beach, Florida. Prior to this, I was the Director of Grants Administration for the Coalition for the Homeless of Central Florida.

Do you have any obsessions that you would like to share?

Writing, of course. And books. Coffee. Oceans. Ireland. Prehistory.

When writing poetry, prose, essays, and other works do you listen to music, do you have a particular playlist for each genre you work in or does the playlist stay the same? What are the top 5 songs on that playlist? If you don’t listen to music while writing, do you have any other routines or habits?

I always listen to music when I write, but feel weirdly secretive about it. A few of the pieces are Antony and the Johnsons cover of Dylan’s, “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.” Gorecki’s Symphony # 3 with soprano Dawn Upshaw, especially the second movement (that should count for at least two…). Steve Earle’s Ft. Worth Blues, Jeff Buckley’s cover (and John Cale’s) of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. It’s pretty much the same songs/pieces for a year or so, regardless of the genre I’m writing in.

LOUD HOUSE

Het up boys, skitter boys, muttonchop
go-go boys, gurgle music, kidney stone
music, muchachos party, rubicon sand fire
flaring party, thunderbird ski hats in summer
party, sweaty head party, pound & thump,
socket burning beach party, orange forklift
beach, orange moon ba-boom, hooch smoke,
ta-ta smoke, stonkered house, pandemonium
tetherballed, turtle orbitted, oriflamme ant
house, rust hilled, I know I’m violating
myself house, Maybe you’ll see me
on MTV house, No, dude (to a dog) house,
evening knock knock knock knock
house, evening anamatter clink: glass and tin,
goo food jars, chest hammer music, earthmover,
dog bark music, beep beep back-up
talk, rag and straw sleep, panic sleep, dart
sleep, rummage, rumple, canyon sleep,
sulky bunco, mittenheaded boys, saw-
voiced reclamation boys, fumarole,
radio pale, tar breathing boys
in the chewed grass, white sail an exhale.

(originally appeared in 32 Poems; forthcoming in Five Kingdoms, Anhinga Press, 2009)

If you've enjoyed Kelle's answers so far, I suggest you check out the rest of my interview with her over at 32 Poems Blog. Once there, you can find out about her workspace, her inspirations, and much more. Feel free to leave me comments about her interview or your thoughts on poetry in general.

About the Poet:

Kelle Groom’s poems have appeared in The New Yorker, Ploughshares, and Poetry, among others. Her poetry collections are Five Kingdoms (Anhinga Press, 2009), Luckily, a 2006 Florida Book Award winner (Anhinga), and Underwater City (University Press of Florida).

She’s received awards from Atlantic Center for the Arts, The Millay Colony, Sewanee Writers’ Conference, Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, State of Florida Division of Cultural Affairs, Barbara Deming Memorial Fund, United Arts of Central Florida, Volusia County Cultural Council, and New Forms Florida.

More of Me Disappears by John Amen

John Amen's More of Me Disappears is broken down into three separate sections and each poem in each section is accessible, vivid, and explosive.  In a number of poems, Amen's musical and song writing talents permeate the lines.  However, these are more than rhythmic dances, his work gradually moves toward a vanishing point. 

From Verboten (Page 17)

"They are drinking wine and speaking
of French-U.S. relations when the long
sleeve on her arm falls down.  Before
she can clutch it, I see the faded blue
tattoo on her flesh.  "What are those
numbers?" I ask.  A silence explodes
through the room like spores."

Each poem in this collection tells a story, reflects on a bright memory, and picks these events apart to reveal the truth beneath.  There are times in this volume when the narrator is sure of his path and at other times ideas run contrary to one another.  Some of my favorite lines will leave readers squirming or gritting their teeth.

From Walking Unsure of Myself (Page 65)

"The fortune teller is battling a migraine.
Wind has swallowed my itinerary.

A man in blue goggles is on his knees outside the bank.
The rape victim is scrubbing herself with a steel brush."

Readers will enjoy the music of these poems and how these poems pop off the pages, with an in your face quality.  Subtlety is not a prevalent style in Amen's work, but readers will appreciate his frankness.  From poems where the narrator takes an active role to poems to observances from a distance, Amen draws the reader in with immediate and concrete details.  One of the best collections I've read in 2009.

New York Memory #3 (Page 36)

"When I get to my dead father's apartment,
Liz emerges from ruptured planks and exploded plaster.
She is covered with soot, like some pagan baptized
in refuse.  The wrecking crew has come before
we had a chance to vacate the place, stripped the loft
to its skeleton.  My father's furniture has been destroyed,
a lifetime buried beneath an avalanche of wood and iron.
Beds have been gutted, paintings raped by protruding nails.
A fast-food cup rises from the ruin like a conqueror's flag.
The apartment is quickly remodeled, rent raised;
the revolving door of humanity spins.  Over the years,
I make a point of knowing who is living there.  I see tenants
come and go.  I accept that we're not so unlike animals.
I mean, I have this friend who tells me all about bees,
how the queen is revered and protected, ultimately
replaced in a savage deposition, how the mad
hive continues, greater than any one member.
And everything he says sounds familiar, and stings."

I want to thank John Amen for sending me a free copy of his book More of Me Disappears for review.   For additional examples from this book, visit John Amen's Web site.

Also, clicking on images and text links to books will bring you to my Amazon Affiliate page.  No purchases are required.

This is my 6th book for the poetry review challenge.

Carta Marina by Ann Fisher-Wirth

Carta Marina was the first largely accurate map of the Northern Countries, completed by the Swedish historian Olaus Magnus in 1539.  Ann Fisher-Wirth has taken her inspiration from this map--complete with its lions, sea monsters, and warriors--for her poem in three parts--Olaus Magnus' Carta Marina, The Coming of Winter, and Les Tres Riches Neures.

"When I was young, Yeats said, I wanted to take off my clothes,/
now I want to take off my body." (From April 3. In the Restaurant, Page 61)

Each poem within the overarching three parts of the larger poem, Carta Marina, chart the story of the narrator as she travels through Sweden and the inner heart and soul.  The poems are dated so readers can follow the poet narrator's progress as they deal with old age, finding a lost love, and incredible loss.

In section one of the poem, readers follow Olaus Magnus on his journey into the north interspersed with email from Paris between lovers.  Fisher-Wirth uses a combination of images and stylistic devices to create her own unique account of a cartographer's journey, but in some cases, the use of the alphabet was a bit difficult to follow and at times distracting.  Readers may need to sit with these poems, allowing their meaning to simmer to the surface.

"But in the booth facing me the twenty-first child/
chews stolidly, gazing . . ./
lost in whatever dream, as her duckling-colored//

braids bob and her jaws revolve./
Above her pale blue jacket her eyes meet mine;/
I look away, look back, she is watching me./
In this season of coming winter she is my daughter.//"  ( From November 14, Page 33)

The second section of the poem, the narrator is reflecting on her existence and how she relates to those in in her life and life-changing events.  But there is also a reflective self-examination of who she once was and how to reconcile that person who is no longer present with the woman she has become.  From beautiful and mysterious phrases like "icy mercury blackness" to jarring images such as "Three skulls form the base of the table," readers will transition from thoughtful to alert awe.

In the final third of the book, Fisher-Wirth incorporates some musical rhythm through repetition.  Carta Marina may resemble a cartography of life and aging, but the poem in three parts is a journey, like a journey through the northern lands of Sweden, wrought with harsh weather and rough terrain.  The background story behind the map inspiring these poems is intriguing, but readers could find that they will have to take their time with some of these poems, churning over their images like the Baltic Sea.

December 17, 4 a.m.

I know how to find you.
I go where your sleeping
is filled with the shadows
of leaves, where the leaves have
bled their green,
and all that remain are
their skeletons, nearly
transparent, translucent,
and tissue gone blurred as
the moon among clouds, as
the fur on a moth's wing,
and tips as if trailing
through water . . .

Such leaves are not common.
In this snowy country
they cherish them, save them,
the white skelettbladen--
like us, they have died, to
become more enduring.

(From Page 47)

I'd like to thank Ann Fisher-Wirth (click her name for my interview) for sending me a free copy of her book, Carta Marina, for review.   Also, clicking on images and text links to books will bring you to my Amazon Affiliate page.  No purchases are required.

This is my 5th book for the poetry review challenge.