#NationalPoetryMonth 7/30

listen listen hush
cease the call of names
give the dead back their beauty
let their eyes return like agates

let their noise in this room be poems
be topaz
be blue iris
a cup of hibiscus tea

and from this moment
lift your head for signs of life
and from this moment
lest us sing let us sing
let us begin again.

from “Hush the Call of Names”

Today’s read: Arrival: Poems by Cheryl Boyce-Taylor – Triquarterly Books, Northwestern University Press – 2017

It’s hard not to be morbid during the time of pandemic. It’s also not horrible to think of death. United States culture vilifies death. A few weeks back the 45th President claimed he had not tested for COVID. I knew that was another lie piled on a stack of lies.
You know who fears death? Rich white guys. The fear of the world moving on without them is their dread.

Meanwhile, death happens all the time and you would hope this culture switches from recording numbers to documenting stories. No more call of names but to share impact.

#NationalPoetryMonth 6/30

Everytime you pick the spot for a be-in
a demonstration, a march, a rally, you are choosing
the ground for a potential battle.
You are still calling these shots.
Pick your terrain with that in mind.

from “REVOLUTIONARY LETTER #8”

Today’s read: Revolutionary Letters by Diane di Prima – City Lights Books – 1974

I am sure that Barb found this copy in a used book store or library sale. It is a pristine first edition complete with a Review Copy from City Lights’s old publishing house address.

Like reading Roque Dalton, these poems have a whole new meaning in this time of pandemic. I am reading through these instructions to survive and organize in crisis and feel that these are not metaphors or allegory. What do you do when the government is neglecting you while simultaneously lying to you. You rally and you make a choice for yourself on what you will fight for.

#NationalPoetryMonth Day 5/30

Everyday is a reenactment of the creation story. We emerge from
dense unspeakable material, through the shimmering power of dreaming stuff.


This is the first world, and the last.

from “A Postcolonial Tale”

Today’s read: The Woman Who Fell from the Sky: Poems by Joy Harjo – Norton – 1996

I first read this collection about sixteen years ago when I was all about the poetry life. I remember liking the work but not enjoying the prose commentary that followed the work. Now, I am loving this work even more and am thankful for the narratives that outline the origins of these poems. Tastes change and evolve. There is an old saying that you can’t cross the same river twice and I see that in visiting this poetry collection again.

#NationalPoetryMonth 4/30

Today’s read: Poems by Roque Dalton (Translated by Richard Schaaf) – Curbstone Press – 1984

It’s cliche but my favorite line was definitely “poetry is, like bread, for everyone.” Re-reading these poems in the time of both the 45th President and during the pandemic gives me a new perspective on this line. Is poetry for everyone? I always assumed Yes but in a society with empty shelves and not enough medical equipment then you have to wonder.

Another unexpected find was the introductory epistle. Poetry has been a bridge to so many places for me and I have always been grateful. This poem makes me wonder how I can articulate that gratitude.

Poems by Roque Dalton