poetry

Late to the Poetry Party

National Poetry Month-April 2015
National Poetry Month-April 2015

 

We’re a week into April, designated as National Poetry Month, and I’m late to the party–the poetry party.

Poets, and poets who don’t know it are celebrating with Poem A Day, PAD’ing for a week.

I have no excuses, only a humble poem (excuse) to offer.

 

The words weren’t ready

the feeling wasn’t there

to pick up a pen

and write pretty words

write a bright poem

one for spring,

flowers, bees, and such things

The heart didn’t remember

April had come and

poetry had sprung

but was content to wallow

in the winter doldrums,

hiding words in a hibernating heart

waiting for a reason

to impart.

Here’s a list of poetry party goer’s who I follow and that you may enjoy:

Kelli Russell Agodon – Book of Kells. She’s giving away free poetry books!

Himani B – Tenderheartmusings.

Andrea Beltran – enjoy her list of published poems on her page.

JohnCoyote – Poetry, Story, and Real Life.

Frausto – UP! urban po’E. Tree (s): Poet, Teacher, Librarian.

Paul Lenzi – Poetry and Polemics.

Per Mare – She uses gorgeous photography with her poems.

Jeff Nguyen – Deconstructing Myths: Social Justice is Built One Idea at a Time

Margo Roby: Wordgathering and prompts.

I have not exhausted my list of poets. I add one or two each time I come across a blog post on WP that I enjoy.

Share a poet site, or two, in the comments. The more the merrier.

Inspiration

How to Fight Domestic Violence

If I can stop one heart... by Emily Dickinson
If I Can Stop One Heart by Emily Dickinson

Life between the sheets (of paper) is not always rosy. And I know people like to read about the ‘rosy,’ because there’s so much evil and trauma in the world that it can be overwhelming. I understand.

The issue of violence, domestic violence, is one of those non-rosy topics but it’s important to talk about.

Even after many years, my own experience is hard to discuss. Victims/Survivors feel judged if they talk about the topic, sometimes by others and other times by themselves.

Suffice it to say that domestic violence can be deadly at worse and traumatic at best.

I’ve heard it said that writers work out their own issues in story. There’s a lot of truth in that. In one of my novels (unpublished) the main character experiences violence. The opening lines:

I didn’t run because I killed him. I ran because I didn’t. He was alive when I left, but that wasn’t important to the judge who sentenced me to San Bueno Correctional Facility. He was sure of two things: Alek was dead and I was the one who did it.

These are the black and white statistics:

Nearly one in four women, one in seven men and more than 3 million children in the United States are affected by domestic violence.

You can help change those numbers.

Assistance is a used cell phone away.

HopeLine phones are refurbished phones equipped with 3,000 anytime minutes of airtime and texting capabilities. They come with Verizon Wireless Nationwide Coverage, Call Forwarding, Call Waiting, 3-Way Calling, Caller ID, Basic Voice Mail and texting.

They are available to survivors affiliated with participating domestic violence agencies. This program has collected over 10 million phones, while donating over $18 million dollars to domestic violence organizations.

A great explanation of the program can be found here. 

Through HopeLine, the public can help prevent domestic violence by donating no-longer-used wireless phones and accessories in any condition from any service provider at any Verizon Wireless Store, by mail or at special events held throughout the year.

How to Donate

If you donate your phone, erase any personal data from the address book, deleting call logs, erasing messages, removing stored photos and other media. As part of the refurbishing process, phones donated to HopeLine are scrubbed prior to distributing them for reuse to ensure all customer data is removed.

Three ways to help HopeLine:

In Person: Drop phones at any Verizon Wireless communications Store. Visit the online store locator.

By Mail: Print a postage-paid label , adhere it to the box/envelope and mail.

Organize a Phone Drive Suggestions and Tips

Now go find those old phones stashed in the junk drawer and help someone fight back.

 

Denise Chavez, Love, poetry

Caveat Emptor – Poem

flickr.com- by Marsmettin Tallahassee
flickr.com- by Marsmettin Tallahassee

Remember when I began cleaning out and donating books? Well, that’s when I found a 2008 journal, lumpy from two 8 x 11 sized papers folded in fourths. I had written my first poem on those papers at a workshop.

Denise Chavez, author of Face of An Angel, Loving Pedro Infante, Last of the Menu Girls, and two others, was the instructor of the first writing workshop I attended. Her instruction, her demeanor, and her passion were poetry in motion.

The first day was about getting in touch with our senses. We sketched, found our own talismans, went outside for a walk, and wrote.

On the second day, Ms. Chavez directed us to a small dictionary which sat in the middle of the desk. The task was to open the book at whim, and with closed eyes blindly select a word.

My word was in Latin. Thankfully, “Caveat Emptor*” was defined in English. This word was to serve as a prompt for a poem. I wrote it down, put it into my journal and forgot about it for six years. With a little revising, here it is:

Caveat Emptor

 

He was the lie from hello to goodbye.

The master of mask, the emperor of illusion,

carrying a pedestal,

a singular prop.

 

Musical words floated from his mouth

under her feet, skirt, arms

gently lifting her up

resting her body atop a velvet chaise

sounds lulling her into the 

magic of romance.

 

Eyelids heavy with love dust,

obscuring the red checkered flags

the blinking yellow caution lights,

deep potholes covered in webs

until she sank, deep into the

fantasy of love. 

 

Two years later,

the lies, the facts tore

away the veils,

revealed the reality, spun

her into agony

 

until the door slammed behind him,

stirred her awake from the

illusion of love, where she

could plainly see

 

the words “Caveat Emptor”

written on the back

of his shirt. ©

 

 

*ca·ve·at emp·tor
ˌkavēˌät ˈempˌtôr/
noun
  1. the principle that the buyer alone is responsible for checking the quality and suitability of goods before a purchase is made.

    In other words, “Buyer Beware.”

poetry, Poetry Month, poets

Poetry Love

Writing poetry-gettyimages.com
Writing poetry-gettyimages.com

 

Many of you know that April is National Poetry Month. It’s a ‘newbie’ month, at only 18 years old.

Everywhere I turn there’s a ‘challenge’ of some kind: Poem A Day, NaPoWriMo, Poetic Form Challenge…okay, I’ll stop now.

There’s even a Poem in a Pocket Day on April 24th.

This one looks like a lot of fun and a good way for the single men to meet women and single women to meet men (Poem in a Purse?).

I’m such a newbie poet that I can’t (don’t) want the PAD or NPWM tests.

But, what  I am challenging myself to do is one or two poems every Wednesday. I can do that.

Besides writing one of my own poems, I’ll post one that has caught my eye from either a poetry book I own or one I see from the poets I follow. Sometimes I’ll have three poems up.

Also, I’m single, so maybe I can get the nerve to participate in Poem in a Pocket Day. Oh, darn, I just remembered that is the day I fly to Albuquerque, New Mexico for the Gathering of Nations Pow Wow.

Well, men in the airport terminal, on the plane, and at the hotel beware of the poem in my pocket or purse.

So now on to a poem I wrote last month.

Arrow to the heart-gettyimages
Arrow to the heart-gettyimages

 

Pierced Heart

 

We hold on,

fill our heart with stuff,

pack and stack every hurtful

incident, innuendo,

pain never erased,

never forgiven,

only stored

down in the depths

until we escavate

buried un-treasure

for rocks and arrows,

which find their way back

to our heart

 

Mona AlvaradoFrazier©

 

My favorite poem, for this week, is from Sabra Bowers of Later, Miss Slater.

She participates in the Sunday Whirl, a challenge which gives 12 words as prompts that a poet turns into a poem.

 

Honeysuckle

she leaves honeysuckle to weave
its tangles around forsythia branches
knowing the fragrance soothes her southern soul

with scented memories of a long-ago girl
who pulled wild honeysuckle blooms 
and sucked their sweetness

 

Sabra’s poem is lovely. Take a look at her other Sunday Whirl poems. I wonder if I can call my Wednesday posts, Wednesday Whirls? POW’s? (Poems on Wednesdays)…okay, I’ll stop now.