May 01
MeredithPoetry, Reading, Uncategorized and the winners are, Clare Greene, Erika Ferrin, Jenny O'Grady, michelle jordan, poetry out of nothing challenge, yay poems!
I want to thank everyone who entered the Poetry Out of Nothing Challenge. Thank you for joining me in this new venture, and thank you for sharing your work with me and my readers–it was a treat. And now, the Challenge has come to an end. The poems have been read. Votes have been cast. Scores have been tallied. That means the only thing left to do is announce the winners of the Poetry Out of Nothing Challenge, which I am quite happy to do. So, without further ado:
1st Place: Clare Greene, “Juicy Love”
Clare’s poem will be the inspiration for a handmade book by Christina Gay.
2nd Place: Jenny O’Grady, “Folding Laundry”*
Avelino Maestas will create a unique framed photo based on Jenny’s poem.
3rd Place: Michelle Jordan, “Stink Bugs”*
Michelle will be receiving a unique handmade journal from Jenny O’Grady.
4th Place: Erika Ferrin, “Meat Dreams”
Erika will be receiving a $15 gift certificate to Powell’s Books.
Learn more about the prizes these amazing poets will be taking home.
*As stated in the initial challenge rules, the prize contributors were eligible for the challenge, but they are not eligible to win the prize they themselves have donated. Jenny O’Grady, who donated a handmade journal for the second prize, was voted into second place. To resolve this issue, the prizes for 2nd and 3rd place will be switched. Jenny will be awarded a framed photo based on her poem and Michelle will receive the handmade journal.
Apr 30
MeredithPoetry, Reading, Uncategorized, Writing Can't believe it's over, national poetry month, yay poems!
I love National Poetry Month, unabashedly and perhaps to an extreme. I’m not one to take that sort of month/week/day of thing seriously–there are just too many for any of them to many anything, it seems. And yet, I love that April gives the poetry community a reason to organize, a definable stretch of time to push harder, to share more, to encourage others to get in on this thing we love.
I make my contribution through this month of blogging, which has become an unexpected tradition. For me, it means 30 days of reading, writing, and thinking about poetry, but more than that, thinking about it in ways that I can share it with people. It means a free pass to discover new writers, to question my own tastes and tendencies in poetry. It means searching for ways to convey that poetry has enormous importance, that it doesn’t have to be an intimidating, foreboding art form to be stared at and passed by, that it can instead be an accessible and even necessary way of viewing the world.
It means an opportunity to invite in guest bloggers and see how my friends and family bring poetry into their lives, whether it’s through the recitation of long-remembered verses, the discovery of new poetry, the appreciation for poetry that withstands the years, or the interpretation of poetry into art.
It also means, this year, a unique chance to invite people, poets or self-proclaimed non-poets, to not only find a way into poetry through reading it, but to use it as a tool of self-expression by writing it. I have enjoyed every moment of the Poetry Out of Nothing Challenge: it is an enormous honor to have people trust you with their art, to read the words they put on the page in response to the details of their days and the ongoing joys, struggles, and questions of their lives.
Obviously, I’m a bit sad that April’s over, that in a few short hours this month of celebration will come to a close. But I also know that even as the calendar flips to May, I’ll continue reading and writing and thinking about poetry, and I hope you will, too.
Until next April, happy reading and writing.
P.S. Voting for the Poetry Out of Nothing Challenge continues until 11:59 tonight, so if you haven’t already voted, you should! I’ll be tabulating the votes over the next day or two, and I’ll announce the winners early next week.
Apr 29
MeredithPoetry, Reading, Uncategorized all the best kinds of poetry, Cindy Greenwood, finding the poems you love, guest blogger
Well, National Poetry Month is practically over, and it’s been a whirlwind here at the blog. I’m super excited to introduce this month’s last guest blogger, Cindy Greenwood. She’s originally from Michigan, but she’s lived all over the country from Washington state to Florida, and she just arrived in Baltimore a few months ago. Though we haven’t known each other long, we quickly evolved from mere officemates to friends thanks to how wonderfully warm and outgoing she is. I feel like there couldn’t be a better way to round out the month than with Cindy’s post–she explores the role poetry in all its forms has played in her life, and I think you’ll probably find you share in her experiences with it. Enjoy!
Let me begin by saying that I have always liked poetry…but have never really studied it or learned a whole lot on the topic. I know I liked poetry as a kid (all the silly, fun, rhyming poems and books of Shel Silverstein, Dr. Seuss, etc.). I enjoyed some poems I learned in my high school College Prep Literature class. I sometimes have found myself drawn to the poetry section in bookstores, just to browse. And even more than reading it, I have learned that I often prefer spoken word poetry. I would say that, as someone who has not spent a lot of time reading, listening to, or studying poetry, I could give a pretty basic outline of the poetry that has had some sort of impact on me.
Beyond the years when I was probably in the target market for Shel Silverstein and Dr. Seuss books, I have remained a fan of children’s poetry (and kids’ books, in general). One book I stumbled upon years ago is A Moon in Your Lunch Box by Michael Spooner. A favorite poem of mine from that book is:
How to get there
The highway
runs
from here to there
–no nonsense–
in a line
as quick
and straight
as tools
can make it.
But the river
___paddles side to side,
_______________visiting all its favorite stops,
__________thinking all its favorite thoughts,
____calling on friends,
___________playing its games,
_________________arriving later,
______________________but arriving
________________all the same.
If I could choose to make
my life
like either one of these,
which, I wonder,
would it be?
No doubt, my life has been (and continues to be) much more a river than a highway…and I like it that way.
As for those classic poems I learned in College Prep Literature class in high school, those that stood out to me include “This is Just to Say” by William Carlos Williams, “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost, and “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas. I haven’t really spent much time thinking about why I like some poems and not others. I guess I feel similarly about poetry and visual art. I have not studied either, but I definitely have preferences. I just seem drawn to certain poems as I am to certain paintings and I have not necessarily examined the reasons. I enjoy the absence of a need to analyze.
I have certainly spent more time this month thinking about poetry than I ever have before, thanks to Meredith and her blog. In reading the blog, I found another poem to which I was drawn — the snippet of “A Daily Joy to Be Alive” by Jimmy Santiago Baca, featured in Avelino’s guest blog post. I read the full poem and, while I can appreciate it in its entirety, the portion Avelino shared is also the portion that speaks to me. On its own, it sounds so much like my life to me; moving to new places, starting my life over again and experiencing things I had not expected, all while feeling in some way anchored to all of the past places and especially the people in those places. That is a great thing about poetry — the ability for different people to find their own meaning in the same words.
As I am writing, I have realized that this blog post is a bit like the river in the Michael Spooner poem above. I seem to be wandering a bit, but I hope you’re still with me.
The last of my “favorite stops” would have to be spoken word poetry. I remember my first real experience with this art form. I sat in a black box theater at Washington State University, where I was attending graduate school. I was entirely in awe of Bryonn Bain and Staceyann Chin, the two performers on campus that evening. They had such passion behind their words. It was like music, but it wasn’t. I had no idea how to define what I was seeing and hearing, but I knew I loved it. The combination of entertainment and activism in their work was simply something I had not experienced.
Since that night in 2001, I have experienced many more spoken word performers whose work has left an impression on me. In case you’re interested, here are a few I recommend checking out (with specific poems of theirs, which I enjoy) [Editor's note: some of these poems may contain profanity, so beware before you click]:
I want to thank Meredith for her enthusiasm about National Poetry Month and poetry in general; I have enjoyed a renewed interest in this art form through reading new poems (including those submitted for the Poetry Out of Nothing Challenge), checking out the daily posts, and thinking about my own experiences with poetry. I hope to keep poetry a little closer to my daily life even after April comes to a close.
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There’s still time to vote in the Poetry Out of Nothing Challenge, so get to it! Check out the entries here.
Apr 28
MeredithPoetry, Reading, Uncategorized cast your vote!, national poetry month, Poetry Out of Nothing, yay poems!
Thrilling. That’s really the only word for how it felt to watch entries for the Poetry Out of Nothing Challenge roll in last night. When I dreamed up this little experiment, I wasn’t sure what to expect, and most days thereafter I just worried no one would want to participate. I’m entirely glad I was wrong.
There were 23 entries from an enormously diverse group: students of writing, salty old poet types, and some brave souls making their first ventures into poetry. They also cover a broad range of topics, from meditations on meatloaf and intimacy and Mortal Kombat to reflections on self-worth and stink bugs and and illness. They treat their subjects with wonder and humor and familiarity. And even though everyone was writing from a different place, all of the poems are amazing, and they all have something to important to say. I don’t envy the voters who will have to chose their favorites.
Speaking of voting, it’s about time I told you how that is going to work. I’ve set up an online survey where you can cast a vote for your top 4 favorite poems. Here are the important details:
1.Voting will begin at 10 a.m. EST on April 28 and continue through 11:59 p.m. on April 30.
2. You may cast only one vote a day.
3. You can learn more about the challenge and read the poems in their entirety at meredithpurvis.com
4. If you have any questions, please send them to halfstartsandtrailoffs [at] gmail [dot] com.
5. You can see a full list of the entries here (alphabetical by poet’s name and including links to their individual posts)
And, most importantly, here’s the link to the survey. Go forth and vote! Tell your brothers, mothers, fathers, sisters, aunties, friends, neighbors, grocers, classmates, dogwalkers, and hair stylists. Just get out the vote and support these brave and talented writers!
Apr 28
MeredithPoetry, Uncategorized, Writing Lecture, Meagan Noel Hart, national poetry month, poetry out of nothing challenge, yay poems!
Lecture
Sometimes
My words tumble from my tongue
and bounce like rubber balls
smacking my students’ foreheads
like concrete
rejected, they quickly fly away
and settle lost within the corners
of the room.
I wish my words would always flow like water
washing over their faces
causing sensitivity
to subtle changes in the air
and seeping in
through their pores.
Apr 28
MeredithPoetry, Writing national poetry month, poetry out of nothing challenge, Something from Nothing, Stephen Moravec, yay poems!
Something from Nothing
Not feeling it today
who cares whatcha got
knocking at the door
no answer, no one home
steppin up in spite of me—delivery
pen to page here we go
dodging thought of a rhyme
just don’t panic write it down
energy focused emotions abound
mission accomplished for now
Apr 28
MeredithPoetry, Writing national poetry month, poetry out of nothing challenge, Rules, Suzanne McAllister, yay poems!
Rules
Temper is a wonderful thing. Don’t lose it.
Patience is a valued thing. Don’t abuse it.
Love is a splendid thing. Don’t misplace it.
Memory is a solid thing. Don’t disgrace it.
Childhood is a happy thing. Don’t harm it.
Youth is a fragile thing. Don’t alarm it.
Laughter is a necessary thing. Don’t forget it.
Tears are an important thing. Don’t regret it.
Friendship is a strengthening thing. Don’t bend it.
Truth is a shining thing. Do defend it.
Life is a welcoming thing. Dare to live it.
Death is a peaceful thing. Learn to forgive it.
Hope is a heartfelt thing. A gift we all give.
Faith is the cornerstone. By which we all live.
Dear ones to all the above, please to pay heed.
Laugh…love….cry
Live life indeed.
Apr 28
MeredithPoetry, Writing Future Preference, national poetry month, poetry out of nothing challenge, Tijuana Johnson, yay poems!
Future Preference
Exposing myself to the outside world
makes way for much fatigue;
consolidating the hours to seconds
enforces pressure beyond belief. This
loyal campaign can only prevail if I
decide to pay it forward.
Running through this daily mission
deliberated my style and I can’t
stop rejuvenating this life-line
for the outside world is waiting.
Apr 28
MeredithPoetry, Writing cancer's wings, latonia valincia, national poetry month, poetry out of nothing challenge, yay poems!
Cancer’s Wings
There is this foul congress, a gathering of doctors
whispering about mama’s condition— don’t utter the “C” word
or say it aloud—cancer
carrying on its wings more crosses to build; blood clots
have travelled up mama’s leg splitting in twos to her lungs
and cancer is the subtext; and chemo has to wait for Coumadin
to labor like our laughter about memories stored-up in basins
of dirty water—mapping the miles that juxtapose where mama is
and where I type. Words are my habitual comfort
phone calls crumbs that don’t satisfy my need to see her eyes
airplane tickets— I can’t afford to buy another one. Gas priced
above my head and I’m chaired to a city I’ve never loved
mama’s hands too far to rub; gray strands holding to
her aging scalp I can’t braid; my son prays
I write, breathe and remember coffee cups and
mama’s contagious love for fresh white bread
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