Follow up to Writing Assignment #3

Ekphrastic poem is semi-done. The body is in place and the ideas are very close to what I want to say about the accompanying photo and furthers the narrative of Anywhere Avenue .

Once I work out the kinks, I will post it up for sure. Many thanks to Barb, Truong and my workshopmates for hitting me with the honest critique.

Re: My current process.
Lately, I’ve been focusing on the voice and tone of my speaker(s) but I am also trying to avoid cliché language and predictable stereotype. Recent efforts have been hit and miss but that’s the messy part of poetry for me and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Re: In the South Bronx Of America
I first came across Mel Rosenthal’s work last year as I was trying to find evidence of New York’s Department of Housing Preservation and Development efforts to beautify the Bronx by covering up abandoned tenement windows with cardboard depictions of flowers and open spaces. Just about the only photos I could find was Rosenthal’s photo essay on the Bronx of the 70s which is just gorgeous. Maybe not the word you would think when showing people drinking straight from a fire hydrant, mother and daughter posing by a demolition site, a man openly brandishing a bayonet or a young boy somersaulting onto a flimsy mattress in the street but that’s pretty much what I saw around me growing up (Ok, maybe not the dude with the bayonet but there were mad rumors of folks carrying machetes for protection)

Rosenthal, a Bronx native, also has a wonderful sarcastic side as he decided to place the following text alongside the pic you see here.

The Bronx has prime real estate that is affordable. No inflated prices like Westchester, New Jersey, or Long Island. The City of New York is planning to sell prime parcels of real estate for retail, light manufacturing, office and industrial development. These are properties which the city has held from sale until the market was right. Now the market is right. You can own real estate in thriving, busy commercial centers, industrial enclaves, and growing residential areas. (Text courtesy of NYC Dept of General Services)


ACHIOTE SEEDS (Summer 2007)

ACHIOTE SEEDS a chap-journal featuring ALFRED ARTEAGA, MARINA GARCIA-VASQUEZ, OSCAR BERMEO, and DOLORES DORANTES translated by JEN HOFER

A word from Craig Perez, Achiote Press Editor:

ACHIOTE PRESS 2007 END OF SUMMER CHAPBOOKS WILL BE PRINTED AND READY TO SALE AND SHIP.

since our Spring issues sold out in 3 weeks, many people were upset at me for not printing more, especially since the chaps sold out before i sent out a mass email announcing their release. so this time around, i am offering folks a chance to reserve a copy. if you want to reserve a copy, all you have to do is email me and let me know. this is not a commitment to purchase, but only guarantees availability if you decide to actually purchase a copy when they are ready (if you change your mind, no worries).

so for $12 dollars, you get 2 chaps. the ACHIOTE SEEDS chapbook, which features about 10 pages from 4 writers. the writers for our summer issue are:

ALFRED ARTEAGA

MARINA GARCIA-VASQUEZ

OSCAR BERMEO

DOLORES DORANTES translated by JEN HOFER

okay okay stop drooling. we couldnt be more excited by this lineup.

our single-author chapbook is Novaless I-XXVI by NICHOLAS MANNING
(check out some samples here at OTOLITHS)

To reserve your copy of ACHIOTE SEEDS, please email csperez06[at]gmail[dot]com

More Achiote Press info here

Follow up to Writing Assignment #2


Photo
Originally uploaded by AprilM2107

This is the assignment where we have to create an alter ego and write a poem from that perspective. I won’t tell ya any much more about the alter ego but the more I look at this, the more details I want to add.

On a quick side note: Next week we have to write a poem about an iconic photograph/art work. Whether the poem sets out to reveal or dispel a “truth” about said image is up to the writer.

God Loves A Liar

I see my pops’ face everywhere I go. Every bum, every tecato, every cop, every priest, anybody who looks like they got a scheme in their eye; I think, “That’s my bastard right there.” The only place I never see the old man is in the mirror, no matter how much folks say I look like him.

Then again, I don’t look much like my mom either, but at least my moms is pure. God bless her, she never sees a hustle in progress. She walks through this life like a tourist watching a building drop, and as folks run every which way and that, she would be the one standing there still, tall as her faith, thinking how clear the sky and how strong the wind, while clutching her santa rosario and mumbling a prayer to the Saint of Falling Bricks sure of her path to Heaven.

I ain’t never had that much God in me. If a building came tumbling down, I’d find the first sucker in sight and offer him a loose cigarette, have him stand in my place and promise him I’d be right back. Then, before it all goes to hell, walk away to a nice safe distance and enjoy the show. That’s all the God I have, one who dropped a son into the world and didn’t even bother to walk away, just set up shop right down the street and saw him go through all the shit of life with nothing but a strong moms and a half-loyal crew.

That’s me, minus the crew, and only my moms’ word that she remembers full well my pops’ face and I don’t look nothing like him.

Deliver the Word


Dreaming of You
Originally uploaded by uberpup

My To-Read list is currently off da chain but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Here are the latest (slightly used) additions to the book shelf:
Fiesta In Aztlán: Anthology of Chicano Poetry (Tony Empringham, Editor)
– First off, I love the title. What’s a revolution without a good party, ya know? Also looking forward to reading the literary/political concerns, circa 1981, of these respected writers.
Merchurochrome: New Poems by Wanda Coleman
– What really sold me on this was the “Retro Rougue Anthology” section of about 30 poems written after various poets. Mind you, this volume also has four other sections plus an “American Sonnet” section. Ah yeah!
City of a Hundred Fires by Richard Blanco
– Love this book! I read it maybe three years ago and instantly fell in love with Blanco’s take on Cuban-Americans.
Transcircularities: New and Selected Poems by Quincy Troupe
– I can read Quincy’s stuff all day which is a good thing since it will probably take at least a solid three days to make it through this expansive collection.
The Inner City Mother Goose by Eve Merriam
– Can this be the book that finally gets me to learn some meter? With dittys like Sing a song of subways/Never see the sun/Four and twenty people/In room for one/When the doors are opened/Everybody run, I really can’t go wrong.

And just so we can have a soundtrack for all this fly lit–
The Very Best of War
– A few weeks back I heard the “The World is a Ghetto” and knew I needed that kind of anthem in my work.
Our Latin Thing 2 — A Sampler Of Boogaloo, Latin Soul & The Roots Of Salsa (Various)
– I hated salsa music as a kid since it always signaled the end of the kid party and the start of the adult’s fiesta. Now that I am trying to find my way back to El Bronx of the 70s, I need some of that good Fania All Star ritmo to bring me back to the living rooms of my childhood. And, oh yeah, I now love me some salsa.
Don’t Mess With The Dragon by Ozomatli
– Ozo keeps it movin in every kind of language and instrument they can get their hands on. Holler.
The Best of Joe Bataan
– I only found out about Bataan a few months back at an I-Hotel event where they highlighted Filpinos in music. Bataan gets mad props for not only leading the way in salsa and boogaloo but also laying the groundwork for what would become hip-hop.
Power to the People and the Beats: Public Enemy’s Greatest Hits
– Speaking of hip-hop, it doesn’t get better than this snapshot of what rap was like when it had ideals and a plan. Makes you almost forget about Flavah of Love, almost.
Fania: NYC Salsa (Various)
– Fania music equals my father in big aviator shades, bigger lapels, a whiskey and a smoke telling the best cuentos possible in the living room/dancefloor to the smiles and cheers of assorted familia as his son sneaks in between his legs to try to share in some of that good story-telling glow.

Palabra, y’all.

Pedro Navaja by Rubén Blades (Live)