A Few Updates

(1) The comments from the Project Verse weekly judges and guest judge Sandra Beasley have been posted here.

(2) 8/5/09: The first entry of the Double Ds will feature Marilyn Nelson. Don't forget to visit ReadWritePoem to check out the monthly column.

(3) I started a fan group for a poet on Read Write Poem. You know you want to click here and join!

(4) I also started a Project Verse group on Read Write Poem. Click here to view and join. Members will have a chance to........

Closing Out the "How I Discovered Poetry" Series

I mentioned in the "How I Discovered Poetry" series introduction that the series would begin with Marilyn Nelson's "How I Discovered Poetry" and end with comments from Marilyn. I'm keeping to my promise.

Let me set this up: Someone sent Marilyn a message inquiring about "How I Discovered Poetry." This person asked a couple of questions that boiled down to asking about the nature of the experience and an item referenced in Marilyn's poem. Marilyn has graciously sent me her reply to the inquirer. I share it with you:

March 20 at 6:26pm
Dear Joyce - The event happened in about 1958, in a small town near a military base in Oklahoma. I was one of 2 black students in the school, and I was very smart. This was when the school integration movement was going on, fire hoses, police dogs, white adults yelling obscenities at black children in Little Rock, etc. Teacher was a middle-aged racist Okie; poem was selected purposely to humiliate me. I don't know what the poem was, but I think it was from what we know as "the plantation school" of literature written in late 19th century -- like "Birth of a Nation." Her husband was my math teacher; no matter how well I did, he always gave me D's. I was in 7th grade.


Thank you for reading the "How I Discovered Poetry" series. By reading, you have helped me honor National Poetry Month. I say we do this series again in 2011!

How I Discovered Poetry Series!

If I compiled a list of my top ten favorite poems of all time, it is easy for me to say Marilyn Nelson's "How I Discovered Poetry" would be one of the first poems I would write down. (There would be no second guessing myself.) Chills creep over my body every time I read Nelson's "How I Discovered Poetry." Every time I read Nelson's poem, I feel the passion I felt the first time I read it. People, this is what good poetry does to its reader.

I use "How I Discovered Poetry" every chance I can when leading a workshop. I love to see the looks on the faces of writers after they finish Nelson's poem--the sound of the gasp as they finish the last line. I've also found it is a great exercise to have people use the first line of the poem as a writing prompt.

Marilyn Nelson is a powerful and talented poet whose words will make you bow to her work. Marilyn is a delightful, kind-hearted poet. Every time I've seen her she wears a smile that reaches out and hugs you. Marilyn Nelson is a poet who has not been polluted by her success. She is a delight.

My series titled "How I Discovered Poetry," as you probably already assumed, is inspired by Marilyn Nelson's poem, "How I Discovered Poetry." This series will be posted only during April in tribute to National Poetry Month and in honor of Marilyn Nelson. The series will include responses from Denise Duhamel, Ellen Bass, Mark Bibbins, Sandra Beasley, David Trinidad, Laure-Anne Bosselaar, and more. (I'm even going to participate! I am hosting the party after all.) I think I can safely say there will be a little something for everyone. I hope you'll take a moment every so often to visit I Was Born Doing Reference Work In Sin to check out the series.

I begin the series with Marilyn Nelson's poem, and it will end on 4/30/09 with brief commentary from Marilyn on her poem.


Enjoy:

HOW I DISCOVERED POETRY

It was like soul-kissing, the way the words
filled my mouth as Mrs. Purdy read from her desk.
All the other kids zoned an hour ahead to 3:15,
but Mrs. Purdy and I wandered lonely as clouds borne
by a breeze off Mount Parnassus. She must have seen
the darkest eyes in the room brim: The next day
she gave me a poem she’d chosen especially for me
to read to the all except for me white class.
She smiled when she told me to read it, smiled harder,
said oh yes I could. She smiled harder and harder
until I stood and opened my mouth to banjo playing
darkies, pickaninnies, disses and dats. When I finished
my classmates stared at the floor. We walked silent
to the buses, awed by the power of words.

Marilyn Nelson, “How I Discovered Poetry” from The Fields of Praise: New and Selected Poems.

"A Wreath for Emmett Till" ~ Marilyn Nelson

Since last week was crazy, I am posting two Marilyn Nelson poems this week to keep with my POTM series. However, this entry is different from the other entries because I am not posting the words to the poem--- instead, I am posting a link to NPR so you can hear Marilyn Read "A Wreath for Emmett Till" and including a Youtube clip of Marilyn reading a selection from the poem.

Click here to access the NPR article on "A Wreath for Emmett Till" and hear Marilyn read her work!

Other interesting news-- "A Wreath for Emmett Till" was the center of some controversy in California. Check out fellow poet Robin Kemp's blog entry for more information. I interviewed Marilyn before the drama occurred; however, I'm doing an update with Marilyn to include the "controversy."

"Mama's Promise" ~ Marilyn Nelson

In case you've forgotten, the POTM is Marilyn Nelson. The Nelson poem I'm sharing this week isn't much of a surprise to some of my friends; I posted parts of this poems a month or two ago. I interviewed Marilyn while she was in town for AWP, and I couldn't help but bring up te poem "Mama's Promise" and rave about my favorite parts of the poem (which are in bold).

Mama's Promise

I have no answer to the blank inequity
of a four-year-old dying of cancer.
I saw her on TV and wept
with my mouth full of meatloaf.

I constantly flash on disasters now;
red lights shout Warning. Danger.
everywhere I look.
I buckle him in, but what if a car
with a grille like a sharkbite
roared up out of the road?
I feed him square meals,
but what if the fist of his heart
should simply fall open?
I carried him safely
as long as I could,
but now he's a runaway
on the dangerous highway.
Warning. Danger.
I've started to pray.

But the dangerous highway
curves through blue evenings
when I hold his yielding hand
and snip his minuscule nails
with my vicious-looking scissors.
I carry him around
like an egg in a spoon,
and I remember a porcelain fawn,
a best friend's trust,
my broken faith in myself.
It's not my grace that keeps me erect
as the sidewalk clatters downhill
under my rollerskate wheels.

Sometimes I lie awake
troubled by this thought:
It's not so simple to give a child birth;
you also have to give it death,
the jealous fairy's christening gift.

I've always pictured my own death
as a closed door,
a black room,
a breathless leap from the mountaintop
with time to throw out my arms, lift my head,
and see, in the instant my heart stops,
a whole galaxy of blue.
I imagined I'd forget,
in the cessation of feeling,
while the guilt of my lifetime floated away
like a nylon nightgown,
and that I'd fall into clean, fresh forgiveness.

Ah, but the death I've given away
is more mine than the one I've kept:
from my hands the poisoned apple,
from my bow the mistletoe dart.

Then I think of Mama,
her bountiful breasts.
When I was a child, I really swear,
Mama's kisses could heal.
I remember her promise,
and whisper it over my sweet son's sleep:

When you float to the bottom, child,
like a mote down a sunbeam,
you'll see me from a trillion miles away:
my eyes looking up to you,
my arms outstretched for you like night.

~ Marilyn Nelson

Taken from The Fields of Praise: New and Selected Poems, Louisiana State University Press

Click here to see last week's poem.

"How I Discovered Poetry" ~ Marilyn Nelson

How I Discovered Poetry

It was like soul-kissing, the way the words
filled my mouth as Mrs. Purdy read from her desk.
All the other kids zoned an hour ahead to 3:15,
but Mrs. Purdy and I wandered lonely as clouds borne
by a breeze off Mount Parnassus. She must have seen
the darkest eyes in the room brim: The next day
she gave me a poem she’d chosen especially for me
to read to the all except for me white class.
She smiled when she told me to read it, smiled harder,
said oh yes I could. She smiled harder and harder
until I stood and opened my mouth to banjo playing
darkies, pickaninnies, disses and dats. When I finished
my classmates stared at the floor. We walked silent
to the buses, awed by the power of words.

~ Marilyn Nelson
from The Fields of Praise: New and Selected Poems, Louisiana State University Press

I bought The Fields of Praise: New and Selected Poems in 2006 before attending the 2nd Annual Palm Beach Poetry Festival because I wanted to become better acquanted with Marilyn's work before participating in a workshop with her. I find myself visiting the book again and again-- the language is beautiful, each word carefully chosen like precious jewels.

I used the first line from "How I Discovered Poetry" in last month's workshop. The poet who drew the line did a good job using it.

POTM Addition to the Blog

Not only is today April Fool's day, but it is the first day of National Poetry Month. I've been planning an a series to include in my blog, and I thought kicking it off in April in honor of National Poetry Month would be 'snazzy.'

Each month I am going to name a Poet Of The Month, and ach week I'll share a previously published poem (that I enjoy by that poet) in the blog. Then I'll end the month by posting an interview I've conducted with the poet.

The inaugural poet for the series is the kick-ass founder of Soul Mountain Retreat, Marilyn Nelson. I am also happy to write that I have interviews scheduled through October.

OK. So yeah, go do something poetic.