Many thanks to Tiny aka Lisa Gray-Garcia and Tony Robles for posting my poem, “The Trouble with Poverty”, up at Poor Magazine, as part of the 2009 Poetry Battle Poems.
If the poem looks a bit familiar, it’s because I liberally borrowed the title and the form from this poem.
What are 20 poetry books, CDs, readings, memoirs or video recordings that made you fall in love with poetry, the stuff that made you think: I want to do this, I need to do this. What are the influences that kept you going? Don’t put down the stuff that you think you’re “supposed,†to like, but list the core ones, the ones that opened all of this up for you.
NOTE: The original meme (from Eduardo Corral’s blog) only mentioned books but I’m not down with limiting poetry to just what’s found in books. ¿Tu sabes?
20 Poetry Books (in no particular order)
1. Where a Nickel Costs a Dime by Willie Perdomo
2. Alabanza: New and Selected Poems 1982-2002 by MartÃn Espada
3. Burning Down the House: Selected Poems from the Nuyorican Poets Cafe’s National Poetry Slam Champions by Roger Bonair-Agard, Stephen Colman, Guy LeCharles Gonzalez, Alix Olson, and Lynne Procope
4. Bum Rush the Page: A Def Poetry Jam, edited by Tony Medina and Louis Reyes Rivera
5. So Often the Pitcher Goes to Water Until It Breaks by Rigoberto González
6. Sonnets from the Puerto Rican by Jack Agüeros
7. The Latin Deli: Prose and Poetry by Judith Ortiz Cofer
8. Aloud: Voices from the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, Edited by Miguel AlgarÃn and Bob Holman
9. MartÃn & Meditations on the South Valley by Jimmy Santiago Baca
10. Poeta en San Francisco by Barbara Jane Reyes
11. Uprock Headspin Scramble and Dive by Patrick Rosal
12. Veinte Poemas de Amor y Una Cancion Desesperada de Pablo Neruda
13. Blood Dazzler by Patricia Smith
14. A Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver
15. The Iceworker Sings and Other Poems by Andrés Montoya
16. Poeta en Nueva York by Federico GarcÃa Lorca
17. Border-Crosser with a Lamborghini Dream by Juan Felipe Herrera
18. The Splinter Factory by Jeffrey McDaniel
19. The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros
20. Crazy Melon and Chinese Apple by Frances Chung
10 Recordings (in no particular order)
1. The United States of Poetry: Created by Joshua Blum and Bob Holman (DVD)
2. Reading and Commentary at Harvard University: William Carlos Williams (MP3)
3. NYC Slams: Taylor Mali, Beau Sia, Roger Bonair-Agard, Bassey Ikpi, Guy LeCharles Gonzales, Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz, Yolanda K. Wilkinson, Morris Stegasorus, Kirk Nugent, Felice Belle, Lynne Procope, Marty McConnell, and Bryonn Bain (CD)
4. Palabra: A sampling of contemporary Latino writers from the SFSU Poetry Center: Octavio Paz, Gloria Anzaldua, Jimmy Santiago Baca, Jose Montoya, Lorna Dee Cervantes, Victor Hernandez Cruz, Carlos Fuentes, Gary Soto, Francisco Alarcon, Ernesto Cardenal, Lucha Corpi, Luis Rodriguez, Bernice Zamora, Ana Castillo, Juan Felipe Herrera, Demetria Martinez, Elba Sanchez (VHS)
5. Now the Dead Will Dance the Mambo: MartÃn Espada (CD)
6. 5 past 13: A Little Bit Louder vol. 1: Suheir Hammad, Patricia Smith, Bob Holman, Staceyann Chin, Cheryl Boyce-Taylor, Willie Perdomo, Dawn Saylor, Emanuel Xavier along with Elana Bell, Oscar Bermeo, Roger Bonair-Agard, Peter James Conti, Edward Garcia, Guy LeCharles Gonzalez, Sabrina Hayeem-Ladani, Stephen Maher, Marty McConnell, Raymond Daniel Medina, GinnaKarla Nicolas, Ishle Yi Park, Lynne Procope and Rachelle Street (CD)
7. Smoking Lovely: Willie Perdomo (CD)
8. A Natural History of Chicano Literature: Juan Felipe Herrera (YouTube)
9. From a Reading at San Francisco State University, 4 March 1965: Amiri Baraka (MP3)
10. SlamNation: Directed by Paul Devlin (DVD)
10 Live Poetry Readings (in no particular order)
1. Open Mic at “a lil bit louder†(Bar13, NYC) August 13, 2001
2. MartÃn Espada at the Acentos Bronx Poetry Showcase (Bruckner Bar & Grill, the Bronx) October 13, 2005
3. Jimmy Santiago Baca at the Alameda Juvenile Justice Center (San Leandro) and the Cesar Chavez Library (Salinas) November 6 & 8, 2008
4. Robert Bly, John Hammond, Alan Kushan, Elizabeth Bassford, John Rodriguez, Raymond Daniel Medina, Mara Jebsen and Abena Koomson at the WORD Festival (Lehman College, the Bronx) October 25, 2003
5. Nathaniel Mackey and Hafez Modirzadeh at the deYoung Poetry Series (deYoung Museum, SF) September 7, 2007
6. In The Grove: Pákatelas, Book Release Party and Homage to Andrés Montoya (Arte Américas, Fresno) April 10, 2008
7. Willie Perdomo’s Smoking Lovely book release tour (Various venues throughout NYC) October-November, 2003
8. The National Poetry Slam 2002 (Minneapolis, MN) August 13-17, 2002
9. Amiri Baraka at the Holloway Series, Lunch Poems, and Cave Canem/Poetry for the People readings (UC Berkeley) October 31 & November 1, 2008
10. Pink Pony West featuring Oscar Bermeo and Rich Villar (Cornelia Street Café, NYC) August 26, 2005
3 Memoirs (in no particular order)
1. A Place to Stand by Jimmy Santiago Baca
2. Down These Mean Streets by Piri Thomas
3. Always Running by Luis J. Rodriguez
On the New York Post simulation of the murder of the president of the United States
by Amiri BarakaNaturally we are outraged by Rupert Murdoch’s low rag The New York Post’s depicting Barack Obama as a monkey, whatever garbage they use to lie about this racist attack. But even more deadly is the fact that the Post in that cartoon is actually calling for the assassination of the president of the United States!
And this is punishable by prison.
Can you imagine anyone drawing a picture of Bush being slain, what the consequences would be? In Venezuela Chavez had to pass a law against the right wing calling for his assassination over television. What would be the penalty for some group calling for the assassination of past presidents of the United States by public media.
Complete response is at the San Francisco Bay View
The Post cartoon was bad but its attempt to apologize for it is even worse. The Post has lived off of material like this ever since Murdoch took over. And only now they’re trying to make up for it? And with an apology that acknowledges its history only to say that it doesn’t owe an apology for past insensitivities? Backtrack much?
I know a tabloid does not have a mandate to be sensitive or even responsible but it should at least be consistent; if the Post wants to make money off of racially inflammatory material, then they should own up to it and not go through the farce of issuing an apology.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2009, 7:30
Poetry Flash at Moe’s Books
The Wind Shifts: New Latino Poetry ON TOUR
edited by Francisco Aragón, presenting the editor & contributors:
John Olivares Espinoza
Venessa Fuentes
Adela Najarro
Paul MartÃnez Pompa
The title of the ravishing collection of poems by 25 Latino and Latina writers can be read as an allusion to change and to the fact that poetry is a force, like wind, that knows know borders. Whether inspired by family, love, despair, poems by Rilke, or a painting by Jose Clemente Orozco, the poets gathered here are involved in the infinite possibilities of language.
—Booklist
This is a compelling and exhilarating addition to Latino letters.
—El Paso Times
MOE’S BOOKS, 2476 Telegraph Avenue, Berkeley, (510) 849-2087
Parking at the Durant/Channing Garage, close to Telegraph. Channing is one block north. For more information, Poetry Flash: (510) 525-5476.
Contributors:
John Olivares Espinoza is the author of, The Date Fruit Elegies (Bilingual Press), his first full-length book. His chapbooks include Aluminum Times (Swan Scythe Press) and Gardeners of Eden (Chicano Chapbook Series). Born in 1978, Espinoza grew up in Indio, CA and studied creative writing at the University of California, Riverside and at Arizona State University, where he received a Paul and Daisy Soros Fellowship for New Americans. His work has appeared in various journals and anthologies including, most recently, The Bear Flag Republic : Prose Poems from California. He has been a participant in The National Book Foundation Summer Writing Camp in Bennington, VT, The Vermont Studio Center in Johnson, and the Macondo Writers Workshop in San Antonio. Espinoza teaches writing, literature, and ethnic studies at The National Hispanic University in San Jose, California.
Venessa Fuentes writes poems. She graduated from Macalester College in 1997, earning her degree in Women’s and Gender Studies. A week after graduation she started working for the Loft Literary Center, where she continues to work today. She is the recipient of a SASE/Jerome Award; has led creative writing workshops for children and families; and has served as a teaching artist in the Saint Paul public school system. In addition to The Wind Shifts: New Latino Poetry (University of Arizona Press), her poems appear in Between the Heart and the Land / Entre el Corazón y la Tierra: Latina Poets in the Midwest (March/Abrazo Press) and in Swerve magazine. Venessa lives in Minneapolis with her son, Felix.
Adela Najarro holds a doctorate in literature and creative writing from Western Michigan University, as well as an M.F.A. from Vermont College. She currently teaches at Cabrillo College as part of the Puente Project. In addition to in the University of Arizona Press anthology The Wind Shifts: New Latino Poetry, her poetry appears in numerous journals, including Feminist Studies, Puerto del Sol, Nimrod International Journal of Poetry & Prose, Notre Dame Review, Blue Mesa Review, Crab Orchard Review, ACM: Another Chicago Magazine, Artful Dodge, Cimarron Review, and elsewhere.
Paul MartÃnez Pompa grew up in the Chicagoland area and earned degrees from the University of Chicago and Indiana University, where he served as a poetry editor for Indiana Review. His chapbook, Pepper Spray, was published by Momotombo Press in 2006. His first book, While Late Capitalism, was selected by MartÃn Espada as winner of the 2008 Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize and will be published by University of Notre Dame Press in 2009. He currently lives in Chicago and teaches composition and creative writing at Triton College in River Grove, Illinois.
Editor:
Francisco Aragón is the author of, Puerta del Sol (Bilingual Press) and editor of, The Wind Shifts: New Latino Poetry (University of Arizona Press). His poems and translations (from the Spanish) have appeared in various anthologies and journals. The founding editor of Momotombo Press, he directs Letras Latinas—the literary program of the Institute for Latino Studies at the University of Notre Dame.
[It’s been good to finally catch up on text like Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet and then to read Mario Vargas Llosa’s Letters to a Young Novelist. I don’t have any aspirations to write the
The same sentiment echoes in Neruda’s Towards the Splendid City but this time with a more naturalistic approach where every river is a mouth, every tree branch an arm, and every rock a monument you must conquer to reach the end of your writing road. It’s all very dangerous and ominous and well it should be, if the end of the road is to find rubble that you have to make sense out of. The idea that the end of any writing quest would end in a happy tale with a shining Camelot waiting is the stuff of privilege and entitlement. To think we can build a city in our letters and expect it to produce its own fresh water and police itself is more like building a cardboard cutout of a city and having it on display as a highway billboard for other tourists to admire from their speeding cars. Maybe I’m reacting from contests that actively seek to promote bad poetry, not the kind that is a marvelous leap that doesn’t quite reach to the other side, but the kind of bad poetry that we’re supposed to be writing against. Maybe I’m being a Romantic, feeling that poetry can be the road to a splendid city–not a perfect or even beautiful one–just one where at least people lived enough of a life that someone cared enough to write down a good poem.
Yes, I’ll say I am crazy and reactionary and romantic, but in reading the works of Rilke, Llosa and Neruda, at least I won’t feel alone.]
excerpt from Towards the Splendid City
Further on, just before we reached the frontier which was to divide me from my native land for many years, we came at night to the last pass between the mountains. Suddenly we saw the glow of a fire as a sure sign of a human presence, and when we came nearer we found some half-ruined buildings, poor hovels which seemed to have been abandoned. We went into one of them and saw the glow of fire from tree trunks burning in the middle of the floor, carcasses of huge trees, which burnt there day and night and from which came smoke that made its way up through the cracks in the roof and rose up like a deep-blue veil in the midst of the darkness. We saw mountains of stacked cheeses, which are made by the people in these high regions. Near the fire lay a number of men grouped like sacks. In the silence we could distinguish the notes of a guitar and words in a song which was born of the embers and the darkness, and which carried with it the first human voice we had encountered during our journey. It was a song of love and distance, a cry of love and longing for the distant spring, from the towns we were coming away from, for life in its limitless extent. These men did not know who we were, they knew nothing about our flight, they had never heard either my name or my poetry; or perhaps they did, perhaps they knew us? What actually happened was that at this fire we sang and we ate, and then in the darkness we went into some primitive rooms. Through them flowed a warm stream, volcanic water in which we bathed, warmth which welled out from the mountain chain and received us in its bosom.
Happily we splashed about, dug ourselves out, as it were, liberated ourselves from the weight of the long journey on horseback. We felt refreshed, reborn, baptised, when in the dawn we started on the journey of a few miles which was to eclipse me from my native land. We rode away on our horses singing, filled with a new air, with a force that cast us out on to the world’s broad highway which awaited me. This I remember well, that when we sought to give the mountain dwellers a few coins in gratitude for their songs, for the food, for the warm water, for giving us lodging and beds, I would rather say for the unexpected heavenly refuge that had met us on our journey, our offering was rejected out of hand. They had been at our service, nothing more. In this taciturn “nothing” there were hidden things that were understood, perhaps a recognition, perhaps the same kind of dreams.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
I did not learn from books any recipe for writing a poem, and I, in my turn, will avoid giving any advice on mode or style which might give the new poets even a drop of supposed insight. When I am recounting in this speech something about past events, when reliving on this occasion a never-forgotten occurrence, in this place which is so different from what that was, it is because in the course of my life I have always found somewhere the necessary support, the formula which had been waiting for me not in order to be petrified in my words but in order to explain me to myself.
Full text can be found here/Texto completo se encuentra aquÃ.
Audio can be found here. (Requires RealPlayer)
