Category Archives: #amreading

A Gorgeous Collection Combining Genres of Poetry, Genealogy, and History

I am guessing that Meadowlark Songs: A Motherline Legacy feels like one of the children of the author Joy Neal Kidney. Writers often feel that way about their creations. If so, I am hoping I can call myself one of the book’s many grandparents. My chapbook Kin Types, a collection of poems and flash prose, reinvented the lives of my female ancestors. Kidney mentions my book as one of her favorite resources, which tickles me more than I can tell you—because the genre seems fresh and new and so dear to my heart. And now I see it reimagined by Kidney who has created a gorgeous, well-researched, and organized delve into the lives of the women of her family who came before her.

Meadowlark Songs is primarily a poetry collection illustrated with family photographs and supplemented with informative prose. Each “mother” before Kidney has her own section, as part of the “motherline.” The cover design by Nelly Murariu beautifully captures the feel of the book.

The ancestors in the book began their lives on the east coast of the United States, but gradually moved farther inland, as far as Nebraska but the family put down deep roots in Iowa. The women’s lives come to life in Kidney’s poetry. These women are strong, resolute, and inspired by their Christian faith.

Family stories and legends are also captured in the poetry. For instance, in “Startled by Santee Sioux,” we read how Laura Goff, Kidney’s great grandmother, was a Nebraska pioneer when a couple of Santee Sioux men walked into her home. She negotiated a trade for dress goods by bartering her chickens to the men. The book is full of fascinating anecdotes such as this.

Probably my favorite part of the book is the last section, about the author herself, “The Memory Keeper,”—and her passion for creating a lasting storyline of her family through this book, as well as her previous books. We read about what formative experiences she had, and how her faith has been her guidance through it all.

I’ve cried and laughed reading Kidney’s other books, but I felt even closer to this book as she connected with the women who made her who she is today. Such a powerful experience for any woman.

You can connect with the author here: https://joynealkidney.com/

Click on the book image above to purchase through Amazon.

Joy Neal Kidney is the oldest granddaughter of Leora Wilson and author of four “Leora books.” She lives in central Iowa with her husband, Guy (an Air Force Veteran of the Vietnam War and retired Air Traffic Controller). Their son and his wife live out-of-state with a daughter named Kate.

A graduate of the University of Northern Iowa, Joy has lived with fibromyalgia for two dozen years, giving her plenty of home-bound days to write blog posts and books.

 

 

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Filed under #amreading, #writingcommunity, Book Review, Family history, History, Memoir, Nonfiction, Poetry, Poetry book, Poetry Collection

Review of Robert Okaji’s Our Loveliest Bruises

Robert Okaji’s new poetry collection Our Loveliest Bruises can be considered his greatest work, truly a magnum opus. The spare language belies the beautiful compelling imagery as it probes the depths of emotion.

Some of the poems have been published in various literary journals and anthologies, but the book is a tightly woven project of loss and grief. Okaji uses the Japanese bamboo flute shakuhachi as a metaphor for these emotions. Throughout the book, in various poems, the poet breathes his life force into the holes of the instrument, producing notes which are akin to his poems. The holes represent the absences of loss. Eventually, in “Self-Portrait as Shakuhachi,” the poet becomes the flute: “How easy to let air / slide through oneself.”

The poet’s mother’s ghost is a recurring character. She does not communicate, but there is a sense of competition between the two. The imagery in these poems is rough and realistic. There is a sense of profound regret, but also of love. From “Ghost, with a Line from Porchia”:

Your battle with language, with silence, invoked.
I stretch the word and weave this dirge for you.

Some poems address a “you,” and I believe in many cases this person is his mother’s ghost. But it could mean the poet himself. There are instances in some poems that point out the brief nature of life itself or are a merging of mother and self and perhaps even a universal human message. “Each day lived is one less to live,” Okaji writes in “Mother’s Day.”

Robert Okaji has written an extraordinary account of the “loveliest bruises” we experience from the love we have for loved ones, of self, of life itself.

***

Bob Okaji blogs at O at the Edges. If you haven’t read his blog you might not realize that Bob was diagnosed with late stage metastatic lung cancer. He has posted a couple of times on his blog about his illness. He continues to do well, although he doesn’t always feel that great.

Bob is the person who first introduced me to the Tupelo 30/30 poem challenge. I think that challenge really motivated me into writing more and more poetry.

Click the link to Bob’s blog so you can send him some good vibes. And then, if you can, click the link to his gorgeous book.

Our Loveliest Bruises

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Filed under #amreading, #bloggingcommunity, #poetrycommunity, #poetswithcats, Book Review, Poetry, Poetry book, Poetry Collection

Buy Yourself a Gift of Sunflower Tanka!!!

Lily is enjoying her new anthology, Sunflower Tanka. These are wonderful examples of tanka and tanka prose. There are even some unusual tanka forms. I’m so blessed to have four tanka prose in the book. A huge thanks to the contributing editors, Colleen Chesebro and Robbie Cheadle.

Isn’t the art on the cover gorgeous? It’s by Robbie.

I sent a copy to my mom and suspect she’s going to love it!

You can pick up your own copy here: https://shorturl.at/XEKLb

You can also purchase a Kindle version.

Blurb

Sunflower Tanka, edited by Robbie Cheadle & Colleen M. Chesebro, is an annual anthology of contemporary tanka, tanka prose, & experimental tanka from a broad mix of new and established poetic voices from across the world.

Our theme, “Into the Light,” draws inspiration from the way a young sunflower bud constantly turns to face the sun. Poets delved into the realms of death, love, and the natural world, capturing their human experiences in the timeless form of syllabic poetry.

Contributors to the first edition of the Sunflower Tanka: Suzanne Brace, Yvette Calleiro, Kay Castenada, Luanne Castle, Robbie Cheadle, Colleen M. Chesebro, E.A. Colquitt, Melissa Davilio, Destiny, Tamiko Dooley, Lisa Fox, Cindy Georgakas, Chris Hall, Franci Hoffman, Marsha Ingrao, Jude Itakali, Jules Paige, Kenneth, MJ Mallon, Brenda Marie, Selma Martin, Michelle Ayon Navajas, Lisa Nelson, D. Wallace Peach, Freya Pickard, Dawn Pisturino, Gwen M. Plano, Jennifer Russo, Aishwarya Saby, Reena Saxena, Merril D. Smith, Nicole Smith, Ivor Steven, Ben Tonkin, Trilce Marsh Vazquez, Cheryl Wood.

Get yourself a holiday gift of Sunflower Tanka!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL!!!

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Flash Fiction and a “Life History”

Sharon Knutson, the editor of Storyteller Poetry Review has generously re-published (most were published by other lit mags, although there might be one that is previously unpublished) some of my flash fiction stories. It’s quite a varied collection. Also, I wrote a “life history” (haha) as an introduction, and she included a photo I had forgotten I had of me getting my high school graduation gift. That hair!!!!

https://stortellerpoetryreview.blogspot.com/2024/12/special-gifts_17.html

 

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Filed under #amreading, #amwriting, #writingcommunity, Ekphrastic, Flash Fiction, Literary Journals

Exploring the Ekphrastic Poetry of Hedy Habra

I love the work of Hedy Habra, a fabulous ekphrastic poet and painter. She is originally from Egypt and Lebanon and ended up where I grew up–in Kalamazoo, Michigan–, but I think of Hedy as a citizen of the world. She knows several languages perfectly, including but probably not limited to French, Spanish, English, and Arabic. You can find her bio at the end of this post.

Before I move into her poetry, I’d like to share a couple of her gorgeous paintings: “Dancing Egret” and “Woman & Leopard.”

Hedy and I were in the same MFA program at Western Michigan University, but we don’t think we were ever in the same classes. Part of that is because I didn’t strictly focus on poetry as my MFA coursework was divided between fiction and poetry. But the fun thing is that at the end of the program, we gave our final MFA reading together.

You couldn’t ask for a better example of ekphrastic poetry than Hedy’s new book, Or Did You Ever See the Other Side. It became apparent to me in reading this collection that Hedy and I have something else in common: an obsession with the art of Remedios Varo!

I was blessed to offer a blurb for the back of the book. Here is what I wrote:

In this extraordinary new collection, Hedy Habra weaves a marvelous life tapestry through dreams and the language of memory— “the right words thrown / pell-mell in the folds of memory.” These ekphrastic poems are not content to interpret painting and music but transcend the border between poet and art. Habra explores each piece from multiple angles to discover its locked heart: “See how colors arise from heartbeats.” Then she searches for a key, but there is never only one key. Each poem asks a question that invites the reader to see another perspective, then another. This collection is kaleidoscopic, stunning, and wrings a haunting beauty from every brushstroke and musical note. Or Did You Ever See The Other Side? “soars without wings,” taking the reader on a journey into its breathtaking dreamscape.

You can pick up a copy of the book on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Did-You-Ever-Other-Side/dp/1950413691

I asked Hedy to write about her work for this blog post:

Trajectory and influences.

I have a passion for art and I’m a visual artist, so art has always been an inherent part of my writing whether it is criticism, fiction, or poetry. I love prose poems but enjoy experimenting with forms, such as haikus, anaphoric poems, abecedarians, found sonnets, haibuns, pantoums, and most recently ghazals. The restrictions of a form call for concision and enable me to discard redundancies when I struggle with drafts.

The stories in Flying Carpets and the poems in Tea in Heliopolis and The Taste of the Earth, focus on my countries of origin, Egypt and Lebanon, weaving linguistic, historical, and mythical components with personal memories. I have also lived in Greece and Belgium and developed a sense of belonging encompassing cultural influences.

Even my ‘memoirs in verse’ are instilled with art. My mother was an artist and I grew up surrounded by her artworks. As a child, I imagined stories about the characters in her paintings and lived vicariously within this alternate world. Oftentimes, some elements from a painting would trigger deep emotions and revive memories or lead me to recreate imaginary worlds. For the past fifteen years, I studied Chinese Ink brush painting on rice paper, which enabled me to paint the covers of my poetry collections.

My first ekphrastic poetry collection, Under Brushstrokes (Press 53 2015) was inspired by artists of different genders, styles, and periods, whereas my most recent ekphrastic collection, Or Did You Ever See The Other Side? (Press 53 2023) is mainly inspired by contemporary and surrealist women artists. Spanish-Mexican surrealist, Remedios Varo is a primary influence, but I draw inspiration from other surrealists, such as Juanita Guccione, Leonor Fini, Deborah Tanning, and Leonora Carrington. I love surrealism because of its connection with the world of dreams and the unconscious.

When I write ekphrastic poetry, I don’t aim at depicting a work of art, but rather my response to it. I love to engage in a dialogue with the artwork itself, with one of the characters in the paintings, or at times with the artist. Often verbal images provide a sequel to the scene portrayed or another version of the original, adding a new dynamic life to the artwork. Even when verbal images coincide synchronously with the artwork, words stand on their own, creating a new world. As a result, after having written or read an ekphrastic poem, we can’t look back at the source of inspiration in the same way because the artwork will retain traces of the verbal images projected onto it in an inter-artistic dialogue.

 Here are two poems from Or Did You Ever See the Other Side?

Or Can’t You See How We’re Weaving Ourselves Tight?

After Three Women and Three Owls by Juanita Guccione

                                   

Didn’t you think you’d soar high up when you wore a miniskirt?

I lowered my hemline, surrendering to ghost owls’ hoots

Following the rhythm of my elder’s everlasting refrains

When she visited the Louvre she wanted to wear her skin bare

 

I lowered my hemline, surrendering to ghost owls’ hoots

Wore a key chain around my wrist that didn’t open any doors

When she visited the Louvre she wanted to wear her skin bare

Chest open to the drifts of wind as she’d march with Delacroix’s banner

 

Wore a key chain around my wrist that didn’t open any doors

Afraid to face the black sun of Melancholy sung by Gerard de Nerval

Chest open to the drifts of wind as she’d march with Delacroix’s banner

She enters the triple dance, a sarong loosely wrapped around her hips

 

Afraid to face the black sun of Melancholy sung by Gerard de Nerval

I conjure my younger self’s steps eager to unlock the darkness

She enters the triple dance, a sarong loosely wrapped around her hips

The three of us dive into the emerald waters under the blackened sun

 

I conjure my younger self’s steps eager to unlock the darkness

You didn’t soar high up still unable to satisfy your hunger

The three of us dive into the emerald waters under the blackened sun

United at last in our quest for meaning, weaving ourselves tight

 

First published by SLANT

From Or Did You Ever See The Other Side? (Press 53 2023)

The inspiring art for this poem:

 

 

Note for the following poem: WordPress does not allow the longer lines to be all on one line, but the idea is each line gets longer than the one before.

Or How Do You Keep Track of All the Keys You Once Owned?

After Chiharu Shiota’s The Locked Room

 

keys to unlock one’s buried memories

keys to the family cottage you had to sell

keys that once opened different-sized locks

keys that had to be changed after an effraction

keys that yearn for the doors they used to open

keys thrown into a deep well, still oozing blood

keys to the palaces King Farouk owned in Egypt

keys to learning how to deal with oneself and others

keys to the meaning of feelings that you kept losing

keys to the safes holding papers that ruled your lives

keys kept in a jewelry box that must have mattered once

keys, lost, forgotten or treasured as a possible come back

keys to the wrought-iron patio gate half-covered with jasmine

keys that opened the car door that led you straight to the beach

keys to dream’s horned and ivory gates that keep getting mixed up

keys meant to reach the heart of a man before he’d change the locks

keys you hold in your palm and run your fingers over and over again

keys to an old friend’s house who once relied upon you to water her plants

keys passed on from generation to generation to reclaim the ancestral home

keys that you had to return to the hotel where you wished you’d spend a lifetime

keys to all the cars you’ve ever owned and led you through long-forgotten crossroads

keys to the office you left carrying a cardboard box filled with what seemed important

keys to the wooden-carved secretary your mother handed down to you that held no secret to her

keys to the homes you kept leaving, from country to country, from one neighborhood to the next

 

First published by MockingHeart Review

From Or Did You Ever See The Other Side? (Press 53 2023)

This is the inspiring art:

Bio

Hedy Habra’s fourth poetry collection, Or Did You Ever See The Other Side? (Press 53 2023), won the 2024 International Poetry Book Awards and was a finalist for the Eric Hoffer Award; The Taste of the Earth won the Silver Nautilus Book Award and Honorable Mention for the Eric Hoffer Award; Tea in Heliopolis won the USA Best Poetry Book Award and Under Brushstrokes was a finalist for the International Book Award. Her story collection, Flying Carpets, won the Arab American Book Award’s Honorable Mention. Her book of criticism, Mundos alternos y artísticos en Vargas Llosa, focuses on the visual aspects of the Peruvian Nobel Laureate’s narrative. She holds a BS in Pharmacy from the French St Joseph University. Habra earned an MA in English, an MFA, and an MA and PhD in Spanish from Western Michigan University where she taught for over three decades. She is a twenty-two-time nominee for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. https://www.hedyhabra.com/

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Filed under #amreading, #poetrycommunity, #writingcommunity, Art and Music, Book Review, Ekphrastic, Poetry, Poetry book, Poetry Collection

Grandma Shark

It’s been hard to juggle baby care with everything else that I’ve had going on. That’s why I’ve been an on-and-off blogger lately. I have a lot of catching up to do on blog reading.

But I am happy that the baby is doing well. He’s now 4.5 months old and started to teethe. He actually started Thursday afternoon. He was cranky, which is unusual for him as he’s a very chill little soul. Mid-morning he chewed in his sleep. He drooled. Awake he put his hand in his mouth. His bib in his mouth. The burp cloth. His toys. His books. My clothes. Then he wouldn’t sleep, but just fussed. Finally the thought of teething hit me. So I soaked a baby washcloth in very cold water and put a corner of it in his mouth. Within a minute or so he fell asleep! That’s when I was 99.9% sure he was teething. Before he went home I felt his gums and sure enough on his top gum I found a little sharp point . . . .

I’ve been watching him for over three months now! Hope I can keep this up as he gets heavier. He weighs 15 1/2 pounds now. You might think that I would get stronger with the gradual increase of weight, but NO HAHA.

On another note, why do babies need such massive amounts of equipment and supplies?! The gardener keeps saying, that’s enough now, but it’s never enough because he keeps growing and developing.

Unfortunately, I introduced Hudson to the original Baby Shark song, and now I can’t get it out of my mind. EAR WORM. If I ask him if he’s Baby Shark, he laughs. If I say, “I’m Grandma Shark,” he laughs even harder.

I did participate in something this weekend that was not very time-consuming. That is the Flash Flood 2024 Write-In. Have you ever heard of Flash Flood? https://www.nationalflashfictionday.co.uk/index.php/flash-flood/ If you write flash stories you can submit early in the year (check website for dates) and then a weekend they publish them one at a time. That weekend was this past one this year.

Then they also have the write-in where they post a writing prompt every hour for 24 hours. https://thewrite-in.blogspot.com/ I decided to do that this year, although I couldn’t do all 24 as we had a big family party for the baby. I wrote ten stories and was pretty excited that they chose nine of ten to publish. Keep in mind, I spent about 15 minutes on each story, so they are really more like highly pressurized rough drafts. But I feel pretty good about how I did. Here they are:

https://thewrite-in.blogspot.com/2024/06/why-wind-laughs-by-luanne-castle.html

https://thewrite-in.blogspot.com/2024/06/the-princess-and-peanut-by-luann-castle.html

https://thewrite-in.blogspot.com/2024/06/elemental-ghosting-by-luanne-castle.html

https://thewrite-in.blogspot.com/2024/06/list-for-involved-grandparenting-by.html

https://thewrite-in.blogspot.com/2024/06/grounding-by-luanne-castle.html

https://thewrite-in.blogspot.com/2024/06/a-is-for-accolade-by-luanne-castle.html

 https://thewrite-in.blogspot.com/2024/06/in-manner-of-fairy-tales-by-luanne.html

https://thewrite-in.blogspot.com/2024/06/i-am-whole-and-ubiquitous-by-luanne.html

https://thewrite-in.blogspot.com/2024/06/marianne-examines-physics-of-prolonged.html

Doesn’t it sound fun to participate? You should try it next time!

Just as I go to hit PUBLISH on this post, I feel the symptoms coming on of a bug that the Gardener has been wrestling with since Saturday night. Oh no.

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Filed under #amreading, #AmWriting, #writerlife, #writingcommunity, Fairy Tales, Flash Fiction, Grandparenting, Writing

Gorgeous Poetry about Being Human on an Endangered Planet

Looking for a new poetry book? Look no further than this beautiful collection by Candice M. Kelsey within this stunning cover.

The chapbook was published in March 2024 by the publisher, boats against the current. The cover art is by Matt Kish.

Find it at Amazon here:

https://shorturl.at/BGPU3

My Review of Postcards from the Masthead

Reading the poems in Candice M. Kelsey’s new chapbook, Postcards from the Masthead, feels a bit like finding your stride on a boat deck, as you learn to move with the waves, enjoying your place upon a vast body of water. The reader must navigate between the life of our planet and the life of the body which “dresses itself in courage / to face the morning / bastard glow.” There is a sense of connection between the larger, public world and the individual. These poems are fraught with angst over the dangers of climate change. At the same time, they investigate corporeal dangers and desires. The striking imagery and perspectives unique to Kelsey are a warning cry against our endangered lives. 

Here is a sample poem:

Meditation on the Pinky Toe, Port Side

Broken again littlest
one throbbing pink
loud the big toe shifts
like my father in a chair
Sunday sessions
mandatory for the EDU
a daughter in treatment
circle of silent frescoes
and he's unhappy as
the third mate's cat

Blue who bounds over
white cedar bulwarks
where I lean with today’s
galley of oranges
halved she capsizes
a feline Michelangelo
painting the Sistine
or God dabs my toe wet
with paint-drop nose

she too knows injury
touches the gnarled-speck
perimeter of my foot
now a flesh canvas
cathedral ceiling scene
where I am broken
by a hundred Adams
awful fools busy naming
the garden of my body—

we catch ourselves
on the world’s harpoons
such sharp edges protrude
to hobble us with small
private dislocations and yet
like this little piggy
some of us make it home
somehow I make it
all the goddamn way

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Filed under #amreading, Book Review, Poetry, Poetry book, Poetry Collection, Writing

New Poem at JMWW

Jen Michalski, Managing and Founding Editor of JMWW Journal, has published my poem, “Edna Pontellier Needed a Bagpiper.” Edna Pontellier is the protagonist of the novel The Awakening. I don’t think you need to have read the book to understand the poem or Edna’s “fascination” with the water.

If you’re so inclined, comments may be left on the site.

In case you’re wondering, yes, I’ve experienced a bagpiper on the shore, as well as many other wonderful places. I used to think I was a reincarnated Scottish person because of my love of the pipes. But it might have started with ballet classes. My ballet teacher also taught Scottish Highland dancing (which I wanted to take SO BADLY but my mother said no), so I was used to hearing the pipes at the studio and at performances.

scottish piper playing bagpipes
Photo by Lewis Ashton on Pexels.com

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What Happened in My Mother’s Retirement Community When I Visited?

I’m very grateful to Mark Danowsky, Editor of One Art, who has published a poem I wrote when I visited my mother in August. I traveled with my bad knees and my husband to see Mom and attend our high school reunion. We stayed in a guest room in the retirement community where Mom lives. And this is what happened the morning we were leaving. I hope you enjoy this narrative poem. It all happened just like this . . . .

Long corridor, Britannia Royal Naval College
Long corridor, Britannia Royal Naval College by David Hawgood is licensed under CC-BY-SA 2.0

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Poem Published by Blue Heron Review & #TankaTuesday

Cristina M. R. Norcross, Founding Editor of Blue Heron Review has published one of my new poems in the new issue of the journal. The theme is Heart Source & Haven. In these dark, anxiety-ridden days, what a wonderful issue to read. My poem is about a magical place I found when I was a kid. It was in the woods across the narrow rural road near Caledonia, Michigan.

You can find the issue here: https://blueheronreview.com/bhr-issue-17-fall-2023/ You will love these poems!

Here is mine:

A Very Specific Opening in the Woods Near Caledonia

The road lilts through the thick woods on either side.
There are no mailboxes to denote location, but
that heart-shaped patch of lupines marks the entry
if I remember to balance across the moss-covered log
and bend down to pass under the sugar maple leaves.
Follow the burbling creek down past the grasses
nestling the tree trunks and saplings and when
I’m lulled into the rhythm of the path, it appears
in front of me—an open meadow sparkling with
sunlight on the kaleidoscopic array of poppies,
Sweet William, and phlox—hummingbirds
and butterflies—even dragonflies—rising amidst
the motes of pollen and seed, a bluebird’s chest
pumping its song, and an alert squirrel scolding.
At the top of my basket is the tablecloth—red
and white checkered, natch—and I lay out the wine
and chocolates, the ginger cake and oranges.
Later, I drowse with my head on my doubled sweater.
That’s when they arrive in their gossamer tutus
and green tights, with their silvery voices. In the haze
of my half-opened eyes, I watch them for memory’s
sake. I will paint them later, as if they are a dream.

I wrote a tanka with Dia de Los Muertos as the kigo word for #TankaTuesday.

[Topic: First Frost]

Before winter’s here

on Dia de Los Muertos

we remember ones

we have lost to the Reaper

and celebrate life and love.

Although we are not in danger of a frost in Phoenix, the days and nights are cooler than they were. When I wake up in the morning, we are in the low 50s. I’ve been walking in the morning to take advantage of cooler air.

woman in a a costume and makeup for the day of the dead in mexico
Photo by Oscar Damián Jiménez on Pexels.com

BONUS: to use Trick or Treat. Here is my lune:

Trick or treat, smell my

feet, give me

something good to eat.

(stolen from the childhood jingle)You can’t improve on a classic!

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