This is one of my all time favorite gigs — typing up poems on demand — but there is no doubt about it, no matter where I’ve done this, parks, libraries, fairs, the SubZERO festival is the best. The best crowd, the best vendors, the best dressed, and the most fun poetry booth.
Many thanks this year to Scorpiana Xlynn, and her doll-faced husband Michael R Brooks, whose sponsorship via Poetry Center San Jose made this year’s booth a reality. The marvels of social media led me to her, the booth, and a great night. I ran into Kim Johnson there, who I haven’t seen in a while, and met some other new folks, I think several of them students (very young…oh my).
This year, I remembered to photograph and autograph my poems. I met some sweet kids, some lovely parents, some interesting loners. The poems are strange, but that’s the improvisational way the thing moves. I especially like “Sunburned Wedding.”
This photo is courtesy of Content Magazine (if I remember correctly…)
Here are the poems. The jacaranda tree was lovely. I had such a good time. Thanks to all those brave souls who asked for poems and actually came back to pick them up, after they saw what they’d ended up with! The tips were especially lovely, too, who knew you could make a little cash pounding away on a typewriter. Muchas gracias.
Last time I worked the poetry booth was 2015, and the year before that I worked too, courtesy of David Perez, Poet Laureate of Santa Clara County at the time. This year I missed Mike McGee, the current Santa Clara County PL, but I’m sure he was a smash as M.C. You can find him all over the place, currently here on Facebook.
This summer I wasn’t accepted into the one poetry course I applied to, which startled me and made me very sad, but it’s the truth, and there are many many young talented poets competing for spaces, so for that I am deeply glad.
Instead, I’ve signed up for a Stanford Continuing Studies online course on photography. Joel Simon‘s course “The Daily Photographer: Developing Your Creative Intuition” was advertised as learning about a new way of looking — which feels (and is!) very much akin to what poets do. I’m having a great time!
One of the benefits of an online class is you can participate (1) after work, (2) on holiday, (3) days late, (4) whenever you finally find the right image. And this “student” group is wonderful, international, and generous with their comments and talent.
I’m still not much of a photographer, but am particularly proud of some of the snapshots I’ve taken with my iPhone, learning about things like negative space, zooming with your feet, and the golden rule of thirds. (Joel has linked us to other blogs and photography lessons on line, and I’ve found some lovely things to continue to inspire me.)
Did you know there is such as a thing as snapshot aesthetic? One can aspire…
Here are my favorite attempts so far! Some have inspired me to write poetry, too, which is a very very lovely bonus.
I’m late to the blog sphere (which auto correct would rather have as blasphemer) with this project, but I’ve been writing poems and thinking about 1968 since my mother’s birthday, January 6.
I started on Instagram on Saturday, June 2, which was a dorky day to choose for Day 1, because it’s just one number off (Day 1 should have been June 1, that would have been so much easier), but there you go. Inspired by Lucy Bellwood, and her 100 Demon Dialogues project, I’m going for 100 days of poems. What a stupid idea. I’m sure you’re completely inspired to follow me, now, right?
A project in poetry, exploring the lives of two women fifty years after the events of the summer of 1968, and the stories that shaped their lives before and after. In 1968 one was twenty-nine and one was seven. In 2018 one was gone and one remembered.
I initially put this blog on Google’s Blogger, but learned at a conference recently that maybe Google’s not going to support Blogger very long, and that WordPress was way better (which I believe). I think I was hiding on Blogger hoping nobody would see me. What a stupid idea.
Lucky me, to be invited to spend a few hours in the park last weekend, talking poetry and silliness with neighbors. Thanks to the Recreation and Community Services department of the City of Cupertino for hosting Celebration of Art, one in their series of Neighborhood Events this summer.
I had magnetic poetry on one table, books for reading on another. I set up my typewriter and typed up poems for anyone brave enough to select a word from one of the sets of cards.
Everyone who stopped by was offered a chance to add some words to a list of odd things. This is an idea I learned about from colleagues at California Poets in the Schools. It’s a Mad-Libs sort of game, and folks of all ages can play. At the end of the day, we had three sheets of odd things.
Today I combined them into a poem, the essence of that summer afternoon with neighbors at the end of summer.
All The Things We’re Thinking Of
A list poem written by visitors to the poetry booth on Sunday August 12, 2018 – Celebration of Art, Three Oaks Park, Cupertino California
On Sunday afternoon, at the end of summer,
we collect and wonder, who would think
of a school of buses,
a loaf of lamb chops,
a herd of gazelle?
A cast of Cupertino MVPs?
We’re thinking of a set of chess pieces
and a bunch of little dogs.
Someone suggests a batch of lettuce,
Someone else a jug of beer.
We imagine a fleet of sheep,
a litter of poems, a string of bubbles,
a pod of popcorn.
Somewhere there is a pair of
“getting in the spirit” people.
Now we’re talking:
a flotilla of basketballs,
a gaggle of iPhones.
Here’s a pack of bouncy houses,
a swarm of children.
A father sighs, “a bed of responsibilities.”
Here in the park, a cast of clowns,
a fine flock of neighbors.
A quiver of joy.
Stranger and stranger:
A head of surgery.
A team of screams at a soccer game,
a bouquet of yellow tulips.
The school of exquisite,
a loaf of trigonometry.
A herd of cougars eating popcorn,
a cast of bean toss players,
a set of striped dresses.
A bunch of big.
A batch of opportunity.
A jug of grape juice in the park.
A fleet of basketballs (some themes repeat)
A litter of ancient words.
For a little sister, a string of paper butterflies,
for a couple of boys, a pod of Tin Tin comics.
Do you see the pair of bows,
the flotilla of crows,
pack of paintings,
swarm of penguins?
A bed of cougars (Kennedy Middle School
mascot, you know).
A flock of pencils, a quiver of music.
We’re not so sure about the head of zodiac,
but the team of Fireballs
are strong soccer girls.
a bouquet of potatoes,
a school of art,
a loaf of ravioli,
a herd of cows.
Cast of sisters,
set of pawns, and this time,
a bunch of potatoes.
A (big) batch of hot boys and girls,
a jug of paintbrushes.
A fleet of weeks left in summer (we wish).
A string of pasta (we’re getting hungry) — like every kind.
A pod of peas,
a pair of ponytails.
A gaggle of grandmas and grandpas
sit in a pack of shade.
Finally, a swarm of tarot cards, a cast
of new friends.
A flock of notes, another
quiver of papers for school.
Team of tigers roaming in the forest, and a
final bouquet of potatoes.
We did it!
This looks like a lovely call for submissions. Thanks to Kacey McCormick the current Cupertino Poet Laureate for posting!
Poets and Writers –
Editors James Adams (Pulitzer Prize nominee for Noble Savage) and South African poet Peter Anderson are looking for submission to their INTERNATIONAL REFUGEE POETRY ANTHOLOGY — WaterWood Press will accept refugee poetry beginning the 2019 anthology entitled Elusions: Refugee Poetry.
Submission guidelines: Original poems/translations on refugees in any style. No PPW (previously published work) except for poems in translation. Submit 1–3 poems per poet (3 copies per poem). No more than 30 lines per poem. Include SASE and cover letter. All entries postmarked by August 15. No fees.
Mail submissions to:
Attn: 2018 Refugee Poetry Editor
Huntsville, TX 77320
I had the good fortune to be invited to read a few poems today at Sunday Assembly – Silicon Valley. I’d read at their invitation before, when they were still meeting in San Jose, and found them friendly and “ordinary” in the best possible way. Driving to the Masonic Lodge in Mountain View this morning, I reflected on how much easier this trip was for me to make, giving thanks for that simple joy.
Today’s theme was Hearts and Minds, and the guest speaker was Sheldon Helms. Mr. Helms read a lovely piece, originally intended for a Kindergarten graduation, all about the marvelous brain. He explained how the brain can be a metaphor for living and encouraged us all to “work well with others and be independent.” Wise words sweetly delivered.
For my part, I shared my favorite poem about hearts: “A Birthday” by Christina Rossetti. There is much music in this poem to delight the heart, and some old-fashioned vocabulary to challenge the brain! Everyone gets “My heart is like a singing bird,” and “peacock with a hundred eyes,” but what the heck is “vair”?? (If you really want to know, Google it.)
I also shared a poem by Sylvia Plath, “Kindness.” Most people who have heard of Plath know the horror story of her mental illness and suicide, but I love her poems for their (sometimes) tender domestic flavor, expressed via the surrealism that many new mothers experience. For an event contemplating the heart and the mind, I wanted to honor mothers, including my own, who lived with mental illness and still loved well, made beauty, and left a legacy of joy and learning. I encourage you to read the poem in a real book at a real bookstore or in a real library, but if you can’t find one, here you go.
Thanks to Sunday Assembly for the lovely morning. You guys really know your karaoke.
(Check out my post from July 2015 when I read for Sunday Assembly during my tenure as Cupertino Poet Laureate.)