Prompts? Or …

I'm not sure when it started, this fascination with what are now being called "prompts" for writing poems, particularly for these exercises in writing a poem each day in certain months of the year (which is another subject). Most poetry workshops I've been in, including one's I've led myself, have used some topic or subject or prod to get folks to focus on writing, to get away from the search for the grand theme. Sometimes it's the artwork in a gallery or museum, or a list of words, or a stack of postcards or photographs. It works, & we usually surprise ourselves with what we come up with. Visual artists do it all the time -- you take a painting class & there is a nude model, or a still life set up for you, or you're on a hillside somewhere & told to paint what & how you see it. But then, wise painters mostly leave those exercises stacked against a wall, while we poets in this Age of the Blog, feel compelled to post our efforts online, still wet & screaming. But then again, the reality is that most people don't read those Blogs anyway.

Full disclosure, I've written daily during the poem-a-day months of November (& April), even published a chapbook in 2011 of a selection of the poems written during November 2010 (Poeming the Prompt). But few of the other poems written then have seen the light of day, & even fewer have been revealed in what could only be characterized as strange light. I recognize the usefulness of such exercises, for some people more than others, like the way I keep a poetry workbook & a pocket notebook, & always, of course, a pen. 

Then again, there are some poets locally & online whose work I admire & read regularly who use the prompts to write good poems on themes & topics they deal with all the time.  The prompts just point them in directions they may not have taken, or revive images & ideas lurking beneath the surface (or tucked away in notebooks).  So I guess what makes me uncomfortable about prompts are when I read those poems that never would have been written (& never should have to have been read) had it not been for some twit with a big idea & a website, & marketed for someone sitting around a split-level in East-by-Jesus wondering, "what am I ever going to write about?"

These thoughts were prompted (there's that word again) by reading a list of poetry prompts on a wonderful new Blog devoted to a planned print journal, Up the River, & written by my friend Jill Crammond.  One of her suggestions was to "Write a poem inspired by a headline." Now I've written many poems, mostly political, but some humorous or philosophical or outrageous (i.e., "The Lady Bishop"), in response to reading a news story (or TV news, e.g. "Baghdad/Albany"), but I would not have ever characterized the sources of these poems as "prompts." It was just that -- a news story, a source, an inspiration, I was reacting to something out there in the world that had moved me & then wrote about it. Why is it necessary to tell someone that headlines (i.e., the world around you) is a good source of inspiration for poems?  You either get it or you don't; I mean, the kind of people you have to tell that to probably wouldn't write poems anyway.  When I write a poem about something I read in the morning paper, it is not a trick to wake up the Muse, it is a kick-in-the-ass to me the poet from the Real World. Does one need a prompt when your lover walks out the door? When a child dies?  When a storm hits (think of the boatload of Katrina poems, the stack of World Trade Center poems)?

I agree that artists shouldn't just sit around waiting for that random kick-in-the-ass, but perhaps instead what we poets must do is to train our eyes to see these so-called "prompts" in the everyday world, to become aware of the wealth of inspiration around us daily, to learn to see with what someone has called "haiku eyes." If we do that then when the frog jumps we know that it means a lot more than just a splash in a pond. We take out our notebooks, our pens & write.

Nitty Gritty Slam #29, October 30

A crowded night upstairs at Valentines for a rare 5th Tuesday slam & open mic. & a raucous night it was too with lots of sex poems, even some drug poems. Something in the water/beer?

Mojavi was the host for the open mic & I went first, doing the open mic so I could perform with props/instruments, my dowel claves, for "Put Down the Government Rag," a seasonal piece. L-Majesty did a love poem & sang "You Send Me." "Hat Guy" read from his laptop about trying to get oral sex.

Alyssa's poem was a lecture to an ex- about making lust. Brett Petersen read "Cock" which actually was about his poems, I think. Sexy Jess made the audience swoon with a sexy poem "Fine Shade in my Pink." Rain Dan read a poem about a hitch-hiker, the first line "I thought you were a real hippy…" Christopher the Poet was back in town & recited his "Letter to My Unborn Children" but got tangled up in "rewinds." Kevin Peterson read from his blue notebook a poem about dosing friend against his will, I guess a confession. Poetyc Visionz recited his sermon on stereotyping. & Mojavi read a piece about the evil spirits that are assigned to us (or so he says).

Many of the same poets, including me, also signed up for the open mic, so tonight it was an 11-4-2 Slam. There was more love & sex, with Billy doing a piece about zombies on the airways, in what I would've said for a "costume" (included a straw hat with horns) but he didn't get disqualified, although L-Majesty did lose points for going over the 3 minutes. I did my poem "The Lady Bishop" & ended up in a 4-way tie for what I think was last place.

At the end of the 2nd round it was Alyssa in 4th place, Christopher the Poet in 3rd, & Poetyc Visionz & Algorhythm duked it out in the final round, Algorhythm's alphabetical tour-de-force netting him a 30, beating out PV's bible-quoting poem about love.

Regularly on the 1st & 3rd Tuesdays of each month, the Nitty Gritty Slam is also held on the 5th Tuesday, if there is one, at Valentines on New Scotland Ave., in Albany, NY -- $5.00, $3.00 with student I.D.

This is Not Trick or Treat

The homeless black cat is on my doorstep
again her green eyes stare at me from
the leafless, loveless lawn. Do I know you?

She is the wrong choice on Tuesday
the lever only the 1% should pull
she is fracking & global warming
& pre-emptive strikes, & the invasion
of Afghanistan, of Iraq, the entire history
of Latin America, of South East Asia
of apartheid, Palestine, the Middle Passage

she is an entire warehouse of international
Halloween costumes dressed in the flag
"God Bless America," "The Star-Spangled Banner"
"The Pledge of Allegiance" -- cum-stained sheets
of red white & blue & high school graduates
who are the Future Dead of America

she is drones circling overhead looking for
Ayotallahs or Peaceniks, me & the aged
Quakers on the street corners of America
.

[Now, if I was inclined to respond to the Poem-A-Day thing, this would be Day #3, but, then, you know, I'm not.]

Sunday Four Poetry, October 28

I love driving up the hill to this reading on Sunday, not the least because we end up at Smitty's afterwards for food & libations & lively conversation. But the poetry is pretty darn good too. Today the featured poet was Lori Desrosier, but first, the open mic. 

I started off (as "#2" on the sign-up sheet) with a poem from Lori's journal Naugatuck River Review, written by a cyber-friend Lee Pursewarden, published in the Winter 2012 Issue 7, "Dreaming of Prompts," (a tour-de-force of piled up writing prompts), then my own tongue-in-cheek "Top Tips for Anxiety-Free From Prompts." Dennis Sullivan, our Patriarch & Herodotus here in Voorheesville read a poem for his impending grandson, "Notes for a Boy About to Board the Train." Obeeduid read 2 poems about spending time in graveyards looking for (& at) the tombstones of his ancestors.

Don Levy returned us to the thrilling days of yesteryear's TV with a poem referencing Underdog, "Have No Fear" (who else but Don could write such a poem?), then the outrageous "Obama at the Nursing Home."  Jim Williams extended the window with 4 poems, the post World War II "Europe Blinks & Goes Home Early," the modern Western "100 Ways to Die in Wyoming," then a prayer-like love poem deep in the woods, but ending with a bitter political poem. Jan Tramontano read a poem about a neighbor whose daughter was killed in an accident, "Hibiscus," & the descriptive "The Dog Walkers."

A new voice here, Arlen Westbrook, read poems from earlier in her life, the bright descriptive "India at Dawn on a Road in the North," & "Meditation During A dig on the Mohawk River" (on what is found there). Sean Heather McGraw was back with what sounded like a love poem, "Ice" then a piece on pain-killers from a broken jaw & a broken heart, "Dawn Breaks." Bob Sharkey drew laughter from the audience (as well he should) with his hysterical list poem "7 Actions for Age 65."

Alan (Frederick) Casline read 2 poems, dated like diary entries, "Does a Disaster Have a Side?" & the poem about a leaf, "Through Him the Gale of Life Blew HIgh." Rick Harrienger read rhyming pieces, beginning with being abandoned by the muse, then to the poem "Tempo" with its life advice, ending with the Autumnal "The Aviary Sanctuary." Jill Crammond's poem "A Town Witch Tries to Make Friends" is a divorce poem, as was the poem about her son & the D.A.R.E. program, "Jude (10) Schools His Mother in Psychedelics."

Today's featured poet was Lori Desrosier, the editor of Naugatuck River Review, "a journal of narrative poetry that sings." She has a new book forth-coming from Salmon Press in Ireland, The Philosopher's Daughter, & that's what she read from. Her poems are mostly short & for most she gave brief introductions so we could know what's coming. It helps when one is only hearing a poem once. Of course there were a number of poems about her father, such as "Conducting in Thin Air" & "Last First Kiss," but also poems of other childhood memories such as the descriptive "The Room in the House at Croton" & the school memory of "Last Seat 2nd Violinist." Her brother made an appearance in a couple poems ("In the Croton Wood 1965" & "Hastings-on-Hudson") & of course her mother (& divorce) in "Mother City" & "Womanly Ways." She also paid tribute to the Hudson River in a cluster of 3 poems, including the descriptive "Train Ride in Winter." Her last poem, "That Pomegranate Shine" is a stunning affirmation of her womanness, from bride to mother. I'm looking forward to when her book comes out early in 2013.

& as we are wont to do, we adjourned to Smith's Tavern for libations & sustenance & plenty of conversation, poetic & otherwise. The 4th Sunday of most months in Voorheesville, NY at the Old Songs Community Center, 3PM -- a donation pays the poet & supports Old Songs.

Yes! Reading Series, October 26

 Headed downtown for my 2nd (or is it 3rd?) reading of the day, to the Social Justice Center, just as the folks were setting up for the night's event. Or should I say, trying to set up? The plan was to show slides of the paintings of Terry Zacuto, but the digital projection was coming out upside-down on the screen. Of course, wise-ass me suggested turning the projector over but they (Matthew Klane et al.) persisted until they found another solution. I also suggested that it wouldn't matter since Terry's work was mostly abstract anyway. I think it was Henry Miller who said he didn't want any art work that couldn't be hung upside-down. Eventually we did get a viewing, without commentary, of a series of Terry's paintings, colorful abstracts that would have been better served by some sort of musical background.

James Belflower introduced Gracie Leavitt who began with some poems from her chapbook, Gap Gardening (these signals press, 2012), "Song of a Superfund Site" & a poem about a lawn, "Thin Cover." Switching to poems from a manuscript she read a short piece "Unresolved Pastoral" & on to a longer "Turning On an Erotic Scene." A new longer piece, "My Career in Personal Growth & the Heartbreaking of Right Now," was a good example of what a typical line of her poems sounds like. Her poems sounded like cut-ups or collages, but she gave us no clue to her technique. In fact the list of titles on the back of Gap Gardening sounded like one of her poems. I think when you are reading challenging, experimental work to an audience who will hear each piece just once, it helps to explain the technique, to get a handle on what's going on.


The poems of David James Miller, the publisher of these signals press, were even more formidable on one-time-hearing. He read from a new manuscript titled "Cull." His work was fractured, short phrases, often single words with pauses in between that if read at a normal pace his reading would have been about 5 minutes. It seems pointless to even cite titles since they are meaningless without the context of the piece (or perhaps even with the context). At the end he read some new poems off his cellphone which made me realize that is the perfect medium, like Twitter, for such barely syntactical expressions.

Of course the audience sat in rapt silence during the readings, applauding only at the end of each poet's reading.

The evening ended with a complex, musically abstract electronic recital by Al Margolis & Doug Van Nort, beginning with barely audible vocal & electronic sounds, gradually cresendoing -- it would have gone great with Terry Zacuto's paintings.

Yes! Reading series occurs during the University semesters at the Social Justice Center on a somewhat random schedule -- find them on FaceBook.

Performing Voices of the Puerto Rican Diaspora, October 26

(left to right) Magdalena Gomez, Jesus Papoleto Melendez,
Lawrence La Fountain-Stokes, Edwin Torres,
Margarita Benitez

This was a wonderful afternoon & evening of conversations & readings up at the University at Albany (NY). In the afternoon it was a panel discussion, "Conversations with Diasporican Writers," in the Assembly Hall of the Campus Center. It was supposed to be moderated by Tomás Urayoán Noel (who had been a featured poet at my Third Thursday Poetry Night back in December, 2009) , but unfortunately he was not there. Fortunately 'though, the panel was ably hosted by Margarita Benitez who presented the topic "crossing boundaries" for each panelist to respond to.

Often such panel discussions are deadly but this group was lively, full of energy & laughter & back & forth banter. Performance poet Edwin Torres began by saying he doesn't consider himself a Puerto Rican per se (born in the Bronx of Puerto Rican parents) but doesn't shy away from it. He read an excerpt from an essay on performance that discussed the artist as "other" that helps us understand the "we", about trying to figure out where the edges are. He said, "performance takes a wall & turns it into a stage."

Lawrence La Fountain-Stokes presented himself as a short story writer (who privately writes poetry), born in Puerto Rico, a professor, a drag-queen. He gave an hysterical account of preparing a bi-lingual edition of his stories written in Spanish then translating them into English & revising them at the same time, revising the Spanish until some times the 2 versions of the stories printed in the book don't match, which would wreak havoc with someone like me whose Spanish is rudimentary & when reading it I often resort to cribs (i.e., other's translations of what I'm reading).

Jesús Papoleto Meléndez was one of the founders of the Nuyorican Poetry Café. He read excerpts from the preface of just-published collected works, Hey Yo! Yo Soy! - 40 Years of Nuyorican Street Poetry (2leafpress.org) about making up stories as a young child, the influence of his black friends & the encouragement of tutors and teachers, paying tribute to these teachers. He read a poem about Mexican immigrants crossing the freeway outside San Diego, "Tourism Up Dow Jones Up 5 Points."

As lively as the discussion had been at this point, Magdelena Gómez kicked it up a few notches trading funny stories with Papoleto about her being a young poet on the fringes of the Nuyorican Café, not being featured there because she "couldn't be had."  Instead, her first reading was at gay men's revue where she got her first look at a real live penis as well. She too paid tribute to people who are the reason she is a poet today, the New York City poets Emily Glen & Barbara Holland (both of whom I had met during my days on the edges of the downtown poetry scene). When I indicated that I too had met Emily Glen, had been a couple times to readings in her apartment, Magdalena came out of her seat at the panel & gave me a huge hug! She went to the podium to read a poem with vivid, bright images imagining a grandmother because, she said, sometimes we must invent our memories.

Even the sometimes tedious questions from the audience ended up giving these lively writers more chances to laugh, to tell more stories of who influenced them, of fellow poets on the scene.

In the evening we gathered in the huge expanse of the Campus Center Ballroom for the "Diasporican Café: Performing Voices of the Puerto Rican Diaspora." In addition to the afternoon's panel participants the reading included Giannina Braschi who read excerpts in Spanish & English from her book United States of Banana (Amazon Crossing, 2011), a surreal political work of satiric poetic fiction (can't believe I got all those adjectives in there), post 9/11 consideration of stereotypes of Puerto Ricans & gays (I've got the book & it makes my head spin -- in a good way).

Magdalena Gómez was loud & defiant, after beginning with an enthusiastic "thank-you" performance, then into a long political rant, "invent this…" Then a poem about a bitter confrontation with her mother when she, Magdalena, worked in an AIDS ward.  She ended with the poem "Why I Became a Loud Puerto Rican" (so she could tell her story). Magdalena is also the Artistic Director of the Teatro Vida in Springfield, MA.

Lawrence La Fountain-Stokes read 2 pieces, one in Spanish, a long dedication, then a piece mostly in dialogue with a black thug that expanded into lyricism & a conversation with his mother, gay sex & love (almost). Fun, shocking & to the heart of the matter. His books include Queer Ricans: Cultures and Sexualities in the Disapora (University of Minnesota Press, 2009) & Uñas Pintadas de Azul = Blue Fingernails (Bilingual Press/Editorial Bilingüe, 2009).

Jesús Papoleto Meléndez read a series of pieces as if he was at an open mic in NYC (or here), beginning with "Cop Haiku," then mixed blood & gold in "Overflow." His title piece from his book, "Hey Yo! Yo Soy!" a political piece incorporating Native chants followed, then a piece written as a youth "Spring Again," & ended with the poem he read at the panel.

Edwin Torres likes to play with sounds, with language(s) in his performances & began with a weaving pattern of phrases, even singing, in "The Name of Things." Another more philosophical/political poem piled up "--isms." A couple poems brought in his father, one about trying to fit in, the other a conversation at his father's grave. Another poem played in English, Spanish, Spanglish & maybe what could be called "Torrish" exploring the Pureto Rican identity. He ended with a his "Requisite Mango Poem" complete with rhythmic foot stomping & audience participation.

The program was sponsored by the Center for Latino, Latin American, and Caribbean Studies; the Department of Latin American, Caribbean, and US Latino Studies; and the College of Arts and Science at UAlbany; as well as the NYS Writers Institute. It was one of the best programs I'd seen up there in a long time.

You can find more photos from this marvelous event at my flickr site here.

Chronogram Open Word, October 20

This series had been on the 1st Saturday of each month, now scheduled for the 3rd Saturday, at venues at 314 Wall St., Kingston, NY, now "Outdated - an antique cafe." Tonight's featured poets, hosted by Phillip Levine, were Jacqueline Ahl & a last-minute fill-in, Roberta Gould.

There was also an open mic, with our host, Phillip Levine, leading it off with his poem "Election" from 2004, in which he mentions his new-born daughter. & that daughter, Piper Levine, was here tonight & read some short poems & a short story "The Wingless Dragon."

Tim Dwyer read a cluster of outdoors poems, "Walking by the Farm Field Late Summer" thinking of his father, "Summer Late August," & a prose poem when his father also makes an appearance, "Raking the Leaves." Cheryl A. Rice read a tender poem about Mary Panza's late mother, "Day of the Dead." I followed with "Another Tuesday" (a September 11 poem), & "Different Tastes in Music" from a new series.

The first of 2 featured poets, Jacqueline Ahl, read a number of her poems from the journals & anthologies in which they appeared, beginning with "Memories" from the Voices of the Valley collection of a few years back, then on to a sensuous piece about roadkill. "Poetry is a Vampire Monster Come to Get You in Your Sleep" responded to the "poetry-is-dead" school of academics. She painted a vivid portrait in rich images of the old farmhouse in which she lives in her poem "The Laws of What Happens." In fact one of the fine characteristics of her poetry is the rich, concrete images that she uses. The poem "Ventriloquist" pondered what divine intervention means, while the longer, darker "Union" used the voices of women across history to talk about marriage. Driving & fucking were the topics of "Diesel & Drums," & she wondered "What business do I have writing a Johnny Cash poem?" in her final poem, "The Room with 3 Walls." It was a nicely planned out reading filled with those rich images, humor, sex, politics & intelligence.

Roberta Gould also used humor & images from the real world in her poems, but was more haphazard, selecting her poems as she read, mostly new, recent poems. There was a grand mix of topics & styles, though humor frequently played a part in the poems & many had the sound & feel of notebook entries (as so many of my poems stem from). "Thieves," about misplacing false teeth, was described as "an oral nightmare," while the similar poem "Casual Life" was about retracing one's steps to find things. There were a number of "nature poems," albeit quirky Roberta-Gould-style, including a couple of poems about bears, a translation of a Peruvian poet about caterpillars, & "Entymology Notes" & "Bugs" (on a predation experiment). There was the vivid string of images in the poem "Reverse" & the poem "For Cassandra" with the line "the punchline is your last line…" Most of her poems are short so there were many of them.

Stay tuned as this series has switched to the 3rd Saturday.