This was the wettest summer on record in San Francisco and the coldest July in over forty years. The fog has returned with a vengeance, but here in the burbs we’ve had a mild summer so far with many days in the mid-seventies — just right for working in the garden. It’s mostly clean-up here to cut back and remove debris. As usual, the bamboo is a mess and the morning glories have sent out their runners all over the place, but there are also layers of dried weeds. I do everything with hand tools, so it’s a quiet practice for the most part, interrupted by the sound of bamboo stalks cracking and branches coming down.
A garden is never finished — an ongoing process full of little surprises. I like coming through the gate in spring to see the nectarine tree in blossom. Or, in summer, finding the first bunch of fruit hidden in the leaves. I can gaze at an empty space, imagining what might grow there, examine an overgrown patch to figure what should be removed. It’s a lot like reviewing a poem and seeing something I didn’t see before, an implied metaphor that could be developed or a few words that should be omitted. A “they” that might to be changed to a “we”.
The Wild Iris
In Louise Gluck’s Pulitzer Prize winning collection, The Wild Iris (1992), the title poem and others are spoken in the voice of a flower reflecting on the mysteries of this world and the “hidden” world beyond. I remember reading this book, or trying to read it, for the first time. At first, the poems were largely opaque — I just wasn’t used to thinking about flowers as having a voice, much less a philosophical one. And then something clicked. Suddenly I suspended my disbelief and the poems came alive, although they weren’t always transparent. Some of them may be deliberately ambiguous, which allows for multiple interpretations. Writing in The New Republic, Helen Vendler observed that The Wild Iris “…wagers everything on the poetic energy remaining in the old troubadour image of the spring, the Biblical lilies of the field, natural resurrection.” Like nature, it revolves as much around winter and oblivion as it does around renewal, and these images evoke trauma. As Gluck writes in her title poem, “…whatever returns from oblivion returns to find a voice.” It’s this voice that appears “like a great fountain” in the closing lines and resonates page after page with a hard-won wisdom.
Opportunities
The Fourth River, a print and online publication of Chatham University’s MFA in Creative Writing, is seeking submissions of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction until September 15th, and then from November 15th to January 15th. They want to see writing that “explores the relationship between humans and their environment, both natural and built, urban, rural, or wild.” The current theme is “innovation.” See www.4thriversubmittable.com for details.
Modern Haiku is open to submissions of haiku, senryu, and haibun year round with cut-off dates on March 15th, July 15th, and November15th. Regarding the content of haiku submissions, their perspective is that “syllable and line count are not vital in English-language haiku” while seasonal references, concrete images, and a lack “views or values” characterize the best examples. Submissions may be made by mail or email, and are free. For details visit www.modernhakiu.org.
Finishing Line Press is now accepting entries for the 2025 New Women’s Voices Chapbook Competition. The competition offers publication and a prize of $1,500 for a writer who “identifies as a woman and has not yet published a full-length collection,” according to their website. Ten finalists will also be selected for the chapbook series. Contest ends October 15, 2025. www.finishinglinepress.submittable.com
Born in 1905, Pulitzer Prize winning poet Stanley Kunitz lived to be 100 years old. His later poems, beginning with The Testing Tree in 1971, were less philosophical and more personal than his early efforts. Some of my favorites from this period include “My Mother’s Pears,” “Halley’s Comet,” “Snakes of September,” and “Days of Foreboding,” but there are many more; in “The Unquiet Ones” he addresses the deaths of his parents and in “The Round,” expresses his love of gardening, poetry, and life. Kunitz wasn’t averse to confronting the shadow side of the personality or the dark side of history — his father committed suicide before he was born and he commented that the Holocaust was “the basic subtext of much of his work.” Twenty-five years after its publication, The Collected Poems remains relevant in today’s polycrisis for its penetrating gaze at beauty, love, and loss. “What do we know beyond the rapture and the dread?” he asked. (The Collected Poems, Stanley Kunitz, W.W. Norton & Co., 2000)
Rewilding the River Basin
Thousands of native wildflower seeds, hand collected and planted by Yurok tribe members and volunteers, are thriving along the Klamath River after a spectacular show of color this spring. Over 2,200 acres, submerged for decades by four recently removed dams, are part of an ongoing restoration project along the river basin. Some of the flowers that can be found there are California poppies, lupine, buttercups, tiger lilies, asters, larkspur, and orchids. www.oregonstater.org, www.oregonstate.edu
Opportunities
Blessing the Boats Selections, sponsored by BOA Editions, is offering a $1500 prize and publication for a full-length collection of poetry by a woman of color who lives in the US. Named after Lucille Clifton’s award-winning collection, the series will be judged this year by Evie Shockley. Manuscripts must be at least 65 pages in length. (There’s no entry fee.) www.boaeditions.org
Stony Brook Southhampton is sponsoring a short fiction prize for undergraduates. The winner will receive a prize of $1,000, a scholarship to the Southampton Writer’s conference, and possible publication in the Southhampton Review. The contest is open to undergrads in the US and Canada. (There’s no entry fee.) www.stonybrook.edu
Palette Poetry, an online journal, is open for submissions year round for its Featured Poet category. Payment is $50-150 per poem. Aiming for diversity, they welcome “new and emerging” poets. (There’s no fee for this category.) www.palettepoetry.com
Assembling a Poetry Collection
For tips on assembling a poetry collection, see “Putting a Full-Length Collection Together,” June 6, 2021 and July 26, 2021, on this blog.
I’ve been dipping in and out of You Are the Future: Living the Questions with Rainer Maria Rilke (Monkfish, 2024).Written by translator and scholar Mark S. Burrows and best-selling author Stephanie Dowrick, it reaches into the heart of Rilke’s poetry, stressing the value of living “the deep questions of our day.” The Austrian poet’s work was inspired by his mystical leanings and a need to come to terms with the suffering wreaked by WWI. “I am the stillness between two notes/that don’t easily harmonize,” Rilke wrote, and as Burrows observes, he “sensed that polarities are always with us, and within us — light and dark; good and bad; right and wrong — and that our work was that of integrating them.”
The poet’s yearning for wholeness is common to many people and it’s not likely to be fulfilled by outer means such as self-help fixes. It is, instead, “a call to open ourselves to what is real,” “to enter deeply into the soulful depths of your own life,” Burrows says. This isn’t so much about transcendence as it is a process of transformation, says Dowrick, a former psychotherapist, who cites this passage from Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet: “Don’t search now for the answers; they can’t be given to you because you couldn’t yet live them. And what matters is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps on some future day you’ll find yourself, slowly and imperceptibly, living into the answer…” Rich with insight and references, this is a book to savor. Not only is it a good resource for understanding Rilke’s writing and the context of his life, it also shows how poetry, in general, can nurture “soul work.”
April is National Poetry Month
Launched in 1996 by The Academy of American Poets, National Poetry Month celebrates poetry with a series of special in-person and virtual events. This year, “Mindful Poetry Moments” offers “a chance to pause and reflect on poetry’s ability to encounter ourselves, the world, and the mystery of each other,” according to the AAP website. On Wednesday, April 9th, from 3-4pm EST, participants will gather virtually to write and share their experiences based on Mary Oliver’s “Wild Geese.” For a full description with a link to register for this free event, and for a complete schedule, visit www.poets.org.
Power Lines
The Poetry Foundation honors the 25th anniversary of the Midwest anthology Power Lines this month with a series of readings, exhibitions, and performances. Dubbed “POWER LINES: Lineage as a Source of Collective Power,” the series focuses on “an energetic current connecting us to the past, fueling us toward the futures of our imaginations.” For a complete schedule visit www.poetryfoundation.org.
Contemplating Kinship
“Contemplating Kinship,” a free multi-media event sponsored by The Poet’s Corner of Maine, will take place on Zoom April 13th at 4:00 pm, EST. Exploring our connections with each other, nature, and the world, the event will feature writers Claire Milliken, Jane Pirone, Mikhu Paul, and David Baker. To register and to learn about other programs and opportunities sponsored by The Poet’s Corner, visit www.thepoetscornermaine.org.
Refuge for Cranes, the title poem from the 2023 Wildhouse publication, appeared in the fall issue of Avocet, a Journal of Nature Poetry.
One Bright Pearl appeared in Braided Way (online) September 6, 2024.
darting ahead (haiku) appeared in Under the Basho, Fall/Winter, 2024
Deep Imagery
In the poem “A Blessing,” by James Wright, the language suggests a kind of magic is afoot as “Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass…” and two Indian ponies “come gladly out of the willows…” I don’t often reread this poem, but when I do, it’s always with a certain amount of anticipation. The music is low-keyed, the rhyme subtle, and by the time the last line arrives I’m completely under its spell. Critic James Seay, writing in the Georgia Review, commented on Wright’s work that, “I cannot recall experiencing anything like that keen sense of discovery which I felt in reading The Branch Will Not Break…” and…“what makes Wright’s poetry special…” is that “he has the gift of using language in a way that the human spirit is awakened and alerted to its own possibilities.”
The opening of another one of his celebrated poems, “The Jewel,” is also memorable: “There is this cave/ In the air behind my body/ That nobody is going to touch:/ A cloister, a silence/ Closing around a blossom of fire.” Known for the striking “deep images” of his work, this “blossom of fire” was no doubt hard won. “Poetry can keep life itself alive,” he has written. “You can endure almost anything as long as you can sing about it.” Winner of the Yale Younger Poet’s Prize, the Ohio- born poet (1927-1980) attended Kenyon College and the University of Washington where he studied with Theodore Roethke. Above the River: The Complete Poems was published posthumously in 1990 and won the Pulitzer Prize.
Connecting With Mystery
Poet Ada Limon observed in an interview recently that, “The connection between poetry and nature is that they both give us a moment to recognize what we’re going through. They give us space. They give us breath. They return us to ourselves” (Outsider, August 1, 2024). As part of her signature project as U.S. Poet Laureate, Limon has conceived of a coast-to-coast exhibit of poems engraved on picnic tables in seven national parks, including Mount Rainer in Washington State where visitors can ponder A.R. Ammons’ poem, “Uppermost.” On the east coast, Mary Oliver’s poem “Can You Imagine?” is engraved on a table located in Beech Forest, near Provincetown, Massachusetts. Limon invites everyone, poet or not, to share their responses to the poems and the landscape around them with the hashtag #youareherepoetry. “Poetry is a place that holds so much mystery…” “So often we stand in a forest and think, Oh there are no words, and that’s enough,” she said.
Opening of the River
An historic project to remove four outdated hydroelectric dams along the Klamath River was completed late this summer, allowing it to flow freely in its original channel for the first time in over a century. It’s hoped that restoration of the river, which runs for 257 miles from Central Oregon to Northern California’s Lost Coast, will enable endangered chinook and coho salmon to return to their original spawning grounds. According to water rights specialist Brad Parrish, it’s vital to reconnect “the features on the landscape that allow water throughout the basin to function naturally…” (“A Geography of Hope,” Earth Island Journal, August 8, 2024).
In Case You Missed It
In the article “Building Another Kind of Peace: How Poetry Can Help Calm Our Tumultuous Spirits” LitHub, September 4, 2024), teacher and writer Megan Pinto describes poetry as both a mindful and literary practice.
Contests
The Steve Kowit Poetry Prize offers $1,000 and publication in the San Diego Poetry Annual for a single poem. Judged by Ellen Bass, the deadline is October 15th.
The North American Review will award $1,000 and publication for a single poem. All entries will be considered for publication. Deadline is November 1st.
Mad Creek Books, of Ohio State University Press, will award $2,500 and publication for a poetry collection of at least 48 pages. Judged by Marcus Jackson, the deadline is October 9th.
“Wild” Exhibit
A year-long exhibit entitled “Wild” opened in June, 2024, at the U.K.’s Manchester Museum showcasing projects from around the world that have revived natural landscapes and saved wildlife from extinction. Curated by David Gelsthorpe, it includes films, photographs, text, and objects that tell the story of “some of the ways people are rewilding landscapes…” and “gives glimpses of how nature can thrive when given the opportunity,” Gelsthorpe has written in The Conversation (www.theconversation.com, June 4, 2024).
About Craft
I was up early looking at a poem I’d written the day before, instant coffee beside me at the laptop. I knew it wasn’t right and I wondered if I could fix it with a bit of cutting, some revising. Maybe get a whole new poem out of it. No such luck. This was one of those poems that needed more than revising and a few quick fixes. I saved what was left of it and moved it to another file, with some regret. But also with an appreciation for the process. I confess I love poems that write themselves, but most of them require attention, and really, that’s the whole point of poetry, isn’t it? Looking closely at our view of the world and self through the lens of language. This is how poetry saves us, I think. It teaches us to look deeply and with patience, and in doing so we open to uncertainty, to the messiness of the process, to disappointment, to loss. Here, I find a hint of the objectivity I could use more of, an appreciation for poetry and life as creative movement, as change.
Spotting the Redstart
As birder Dominik Mosur wandered around Pine Lake Park in San Francisco one day recently, he heard what sounded like the tick of a warbler. Peering through the foliage, he caught a glimpse of the red belly and black feathers of a slate-throated redstart. Commonly found in the southern hemisphere, from Mexico to Bolivia, this was the first such sighting in California, according to an article in SF Gate (“Mysterious bird never seen in California draws crowds to San Francisco park,” Amanda Bartlett, Aug. 6, 2024). Birders and biologists have offered various reasons the redstart might have ventured so far north, including global warming, monsoons in Northern Mexico that may have disoriented it, and the instinct to seek out new territory.
Into the Clear Blue Sky
July 22, 2024 was the hottest day on record on earth, according to NASA, caused in part by human activity and the proliferation of greenhouse gasses. Climate Scientist Rob Jackson’s new book, Into the Clear Blue Sky: The Path to Restoring Our Atmosphere (Scribner, 2024) presents an attainable vision for the future, pointing out that while cutting harmful emissions is essential, we also need to reduce carbon dioxide and methane to pre-industrial levels by such means as “direct-air capture” and “enhanced weathering.” Chair of the Global Carbon Project and a Senior Fellow at Stanford’s Woods Institute for the Environment, Jackson believes that this goal can be accomplished in a lifetime with the help of nature and technology, and it’s our moral duty to attempt to do so. Publisher’s Weekly calls Into the Clear Blue Sky “an exceptional inquiry into the fight against global warming.” Kirkus sees it as “A useful handbook for reducing one’s carbon footprint and encouraging neighbors and communities to do the same.” (Jackson is also a well-published poet, with poems in the Atlanta Review, Cold Mountain Review, LitHub, and elsewhere.)
I’ll be reading selections from Refuge for Cranes in tandem with guitarist Jos van der Wilk on Saturday, April 20th from 2 to 3 p.m. at “Books on B,” 1014 B Street, Hayward, CA. Please join us for this impromptu event in celebration of Earth Day and Poetry Month. (You can place an order or sign up for updates at http://www.booksonb.com/)
On Spiritual Verse: A Seminar with Kaveh Akbar. This online Zoom event will take place on two Wednesdays, April 17 and May 1 from 7 to 9pm, Eastern Time. Registration is required. Akbar is an award-winning poet and editor of the anthology, The Penguin Books of Spiritual Verse: 110 Poets on the Divine. https://www.poetrysociety.org
Goddess Art and Poetry, a program dedicated to “poetry lovers who appreciate the goddess archetype, as well as the gifts and stories that women bring,” will take place Saturday, May 18 from 4 to 6pm, Pacific Time. To apply to be a reader or for more information about this online event contact author and organizer Georgia Reash at https://www.georgiareash.wixsite.com
Haiku Notes
A new haiku (first line: “night jasmine,”) will appear in the spring/summer edition of Frogpond, the journal of the Haiku Society of America https://www.hsa-haiku.org.
A haiku on the theme of “transforming paths” was recently selected by the 2024 Golden Haiku annual competition (https://www.goldentriangledc.com). It will be displayed along with others on signage in a 44 block area of the Golden Triangle neighborhood of Washington, D.C. through April and on the website (first line: “lifting a stone,” haiku #73/142).
Books
The Poetry Home Repair Manual
The Poetry Home Repair Manual: Practical Advice for Beginning Poets, by Ted Kooser (University of Nebraska)uses examples from the former U.S. Poet Laureate’s own work and that of others to demystify the process of writing and revising. There’s also some helpful life advice here and a dose of good humor. My only quibble is with the title; this book isn’t just for beginners, but seasoned poets and readers, as well.
Writer’s Conferences
The 42nd annual Napa Valley Writer’s Conference will take place July 21 – 26, featuring poets Jane Hirshfield, Jan Beatty, C. Dale Young, and more. The application deadline is April 22nd. https://www.napawritersconference.org
The Las Vegas Writer’s Conference, from April 1 – 13, is notable for being all virtual and features writing sessions, Q & A opportunities, agent and editor sessions, and tips from industry experts. For more information visit https://www.vegaswritersconference.com.
This month, Mark S. Burrows continues his exploration of poetry and the wisdom of the heart, Richard Blanco reads selections from his latest collection, and Gloria Heffernan offers a free poetry workshop on the power of place.
Homeland of My Body: New & Selected Poems. Join Richard Blanco and friends of The Poet’s Corner as he reads from his latest book, Sunday, February 11, 2024, 4 – 5:30 pm ET. Visit www.https://thepoetscornermaine@gmail.com to register for this free Zoom event.
Sacred Journeys: An Evening Reading And Writing About Place with poet Gloria Heffernan. February 12, 7 -8:30 pm ET. Visit the Raft at www.https://phylliscoledai.substack.com to register for this free event.
Heartwork: Exploring Rilke’s Poetry. Poet, scholar, and translator Mark S. Burrows facilitates this online workshop that explores “how our own heart-work might guide us into greater resilience and authenticity.” Thursday, February 15, 2024, 2 – 3:30pm ET. Cost: $25. Visit www.https://thepoetcorner.org to register.
Aubades: Morning Online Poetry Discussion, Mulberry Street Library, Thursday, February 22, 2024, 10 – 11am ET. Visit the New York Public Library site at www.https://nypl.org to register for this free online event.
A Different Slant
In her review of Refuge for Cranes (Tupelo Quarterly, December 14, 2023), author and poet Aline Soules has written: “On the surface, it would be easy to read these poems as accessible descriptions of the world of ordinary things, to enjoy the beauty the poet highlights from the garden or the woods or the land and creatures around him. But let each poem linger in the mind and their subtle complexity emerges…” www.tupeloquarterly.com
Seven Poems from Refuge for Cranes
Morning Song
I started writing “Morning Song” early one morning and finished the draft within an hour or so. I’d recently seen a yellow grosbeak, unusual for this part of California, and that entered into the stream of things, as did a reference to a “camel inside a camel,” which I think comes from Rumi. The last line was a surprise. I don’t remember giving much thought to loving the unloving before, and these words felt like an opening to begin to see everyone as equally deserving of love. Another way of looking at the last line is as an invitation to love all parts of oneself, so the poem might serve as a prompt for self-care.
Walking Under Redwoods
This poem was brewing on some level even as I was walking through a redwood grove with a friend one crisp December day. As I remember, it was the day after Christmas. Everything was so still and quiet, I almost felt like an intruder. For some reason, our walk prompted my friend to talk about some of her regrets I guess you could call them, and I began to see my own experience through a similar lens. The redwoods seemed to take it all in. Nature, after all, is the best listener. Writing this poem reminded me of the value of silence in our lives, and that includes the silence between words and sentences, the silence of the trees, and the silence of our footfalls on the soft ground. Even the dim rush of the nearby creek was enhanced by that silence around us.
Sites of the Shutdown
I suppose we naturally look for something positive to come out of the negative, and that was true for me about the pandemic and subsequent shut-down of so many things I took for granted. This poem came out of that sensibility, and it reminded me that what I seek isn’t outside myself, that whatever satisfaction I may find isn’t strictly in the outcome of things but in my response to it. It’s true that the pandemic did acquaint me more with solitude, and it’s not over yet as of this writing. But it also taught me to value even the smallest interactions — at the checkout counter, on the bus, or ordering a meal, for instance. None of these would be possible without our mutual participation.
Earthbytes
This poem was a conscious attempt to put into words the need for an active involvement in the environmental crisis, without being “preachy.” I really wanted to write a poem that encourages commitment to conservation and mindful living. This isn’t necessarily that poem, but it’s a start. It began with a fragment of a line from several years ago, “like the bulb that from darkness emits the bloom,” and evolved from there. Yes, the current crisis is dire but I believe we can make a difference. It won’t be easy, but what’s the alternative?
Enquiry
As I get older, the list of things and people I’m grateful for continues to grow. Sometimes, spontaneous memories of the kindness of friends come back to me. (I lived rent-free in the attics of two different friends for over a year.) It’s a wonderful feeling to thank those special friends once again and to feel reconnected on a deep level, one that transcends time and place. But there’s also the spontaneous feeling of gratitude that arises in everyday activities — gratitude for the cup for holding the coffee, and for the bowl for containing my cereal in the morning. Occasionally, we come across beauty in nature in the least expected of places, as this poem recounts, and these moments are worthy of celebration.
Eye of the Heart
This title came to me long before the poem did and wouldn’t let go. I liked it but wondered if it wasn’t a cliché. But in my initial research, I didn’t find any titles exactly like it. I wonder if the subject might have stemmed from some of my childhood art projects in which I took a black crayon and made curvy lines that crossed and re-crossed each other, creating irregular spaces that I filled in with various colors, finally drawing eyeballs in some of the spaces. It was my version of modern art. The surprise of this poem was the last section. I didn’t see it coming. There’s a tangible joy in the practice of wishing others well that benefits both the sender and the recipient.
It reminds me of the metta meditation from Tibetan Buddhism that begins, “May all beings be well, may all beings be happy, may all beings be free.”
We, Cranes
What I like to call the “happy we” is introduced as the narrator here. The voice includes both poet and cranes, blurring the distinction between observer and observed, subject and object. Although brief, this poem is probably my favorite in the collection. There’s something magical about these creatures, and they seem to invite us into an almost mythical world in which language feels unnecessary.
Choosing to be Simple: Collected Poems of Tao Yuanming is an engaging translation of the work of this reclusive poet. Born in Jiujiang, China, Tao Yuanming (365-427 AD) was a civil servant and farmer whose poems reflect a life devoted to the Way. This bilingual edition contains over 160 verses that range in subject from passion and political intrigue to the ups and downs of farming and the joys of wine. Written in a direct and unadorned style, the poems are both wise and heartfelt without being sentimental, as in these passages:
“I built my hut beside a path/but hear no cart or horse/you ask how can this be/where the mind goes I go too…”
“Fall days are cold and harsh/the plants have all withered/it’s that time of year when we walk on frost/and climb the heights to honor friends going home…”
They also depict what the late Jack Gilbert referred to as “the immaculate pain of the Chinese poets” — long separations between friends, the rigors of poverty, and the recognition of what some have called an “immemorial wound.” Included here is the twenty-part poem, “Drinking Wine,” that contains some of the poet’s most memorable lines, such as this one from part IX: “meanwhile, let’s share a drink/I can’t turn this horse around now.” Red Pine (aka Bill Porter) contributes his own insights throughout the book to clarify some of the more obscure references and symbolism (chrysanthemums were often used in medicines, purple mushrooms were “one of the favorite foods of Daoist recluses and immortals”). Like his translation and commentary on the Heart Sutra, one of the essential Buddhist texts, Choosing to be Simple offers an invaluable glimpse into early Eastern culture, as well as a look into the heart/mind of one of the period’s finest poets.
Heart of Zen
“Six Persimmons,” an 800-year old ink and brush painting said to convey the wisdom of Zen Buddhism, will be on display at the San Francisco Asian Art Museum from November 17th to December 10th. Painted by the 13th-century monk Mu Qi Fa Chang, it’s on loan from the Daitokuji Ryoko-in Temple in Kyoto, Japan, and is part of an exhibit, “The Heart of Zen,” that includes a companion piece, “Chestnuts,” on display through December 31st.” Long associated with tea ceremonies held at the temple, “Six Persimmons” has been described by scholar Arthur Waley as “passion congealed into a stupendous calm” and by others as the “Western Mona Lisa.” Gary Snyder has written a poem that references Mu Qi’s work, also titled “Six Persimmons” (Axe Handles, Counterpoint Press, 1983). Inspired by the painting, a copy of which hangs in his home, the poem ends with Snyder standing over the kitchen sink, biting into a persimmon.
New Year’s Note
Dear Friends,
This will be my last regular post for a while as I continue to work on new projects in 2024. I hope you’ll stay tuned for announcements about upcoming publications and special events from time to time. I’ll leave off with two quotations from Julian of Norwich, English anchoress from the Middle Ages, from her Revelations of Divine Love: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well,” she wrote in what is believed to be the oldest surviving book written in English by a woman. Her vision was one of all-embracing love and she encouraged others to “Remain in this (love) and you will know more of the same.”
Wishing you happiness and peace now and in the new year!
The cover design for Refuge for Cranes is complete and I think it’s a standout. Designed by Melody Stanford Martin of Wildhouse Publications, it features a photograph of Sandhill Cranes in flight by Chris Briggs that evokes the majesty of these amazing birds (pls. see Books section). My thanks to both Melody and Chris for their beautiful work. I’ll post more information about publication when it’s available.
Susan Fenimore Cooper, “America’s First Recognized Female Nature Writer”
When Rural Hours, a natural history diary by Susan Fenimore Cooper, was first published in 1850, it was done so anonymously “by a lady,” the custom for women writers of the Victorian era. Favorably reviewed, it went into nine editions in Cooper’s lifetime, according to Michelle T. Harris, writing in Audubon Magazine (Jan. 8, 2021). One of the first to warn of the dangers of deforestation, Cooper also lamented the loss of wild Passenger Pigeons (extinct by 1900) and the shrinking populations of other birds. The daughter of popular novelist James Fenimore Cooper, she lived in Cooperstown, New York, where she founded an orphanage and wrote for magazines, including The Atlantic Monthly and Harper’s. Rural Hours was reissued in 1998 by University of Georgia Press.
Sandhill Cranes Return to Platte River
This month thousands of Sandhill Cranes will touch down in the Platte River Valley in central Nebraska, feeding primarily on corn kernels and insects, before moving on to their nesting grounds in Canada, Alaska, and Siberia. Visitors often hear the low, chortling sound of the prehistoric birds before they see them, observes columnist Rick Windham of the Platte River Telegraph. Known as a “rally bugle,” that call “is a sound that moves the spirit,” he says. The Iain Nicolson Rowe Audubon Center in Gibbon, Nebraska, offers guided tours of this annual event. Bird lovers can also observe the cranes in their natural habitat in “virtual tours.” For more information, go to https://www.row.audubon.org/events/.
An Ethics of Wild Mind
Author, poet, and translator David Hinton speaks about his latest book in a recent interview in Emergence Magazine. Drawing on Eastern philosophy, Ch’an, and “an ethics tempered by love,” he discusses the need for a deep relationship between humans and earth. https://www.emergengencemagazine.org
Writing Opportunities
The Annual Permafrost Book Prize in Poetry is open to all writers (including non-U.S. citizens) until March 15th. Winner receives $1000, 50 copies, and publication by the University of Alaska Press.
Passager Journal is now accepting poetry entries for their annual contest issue through April 15th. An independent press located in Baltimore, MD, it was founded in 1990 for writers over the age of fifty. https://www.passagerbooks.com
The Robert Phillips Poetry Chapbook Prize is open until March 31st. Winner receives $500 and publication by the Texas Review Press.
Poet, memoirist, and activist Diane di Prima, who was born in Brooklyn and launched her writing career in New York City’s Greenwich Village, died October 25th in San Francisco where she had lived and worked for over fifty years. She was 86. The author of This Bird Flies Backward (her first book) and Memoirs of a Beatnik, she penned over 40 books of poetry and prose, including the best-selling Recollections ofMy Life as a Woman: The New York Years. One of the few women writers associated with the Beat Movement, she co-founded the New York Poets Theater and the newsletter The Floating Bear with playwright LeRoi Jones (Amira Baraka), was befriended by Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg, and published by Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s City Lights imprint. Although suffering from Parkinson’s and arthritis in her later years, she managed to write up until a few weeks before her death by using a cell phone or dictating her work, her long-time partner, Sheppard Powell, told the L.A. Times (10/28/20).
I remember the first time I heard her read from her poetry. It was in the early 1970s at a small publishing venue, Panjandrum Press, a few blocks from where I was living in San Francisco. I loved her presentation — confident, clear, and soft spoken. After hearing her read, I felt that we, the audience, had been gifted in the way that we’re gifted by the elemental sounds of a running stream or wind in the trees. There was nothing pretentious about her or her work, nothing felt forced or unnatural. I wouldn’t see her again until the early 80s, this time at the San Francisco Zen Center where she was teaching a one day workshop. Here, the class was down on the floor, practicing automatic writing and, as I remember, cutting up poems to rearrange them in unexpected ways. Later, in the 90s I heard her read once again, at City Lights Bookstore in North Beach. The room was packed and we were lucky to get seats. The occasion was the publication of her collection, Pieces of a Song (City Lights, 1990). Ferlinghetti was there, his blue eyes happily taking it all in, the crowd, the energy. Each poem was just right, belying the work that went into them, and they rolled off her tongue as if she was uttering them extemporaneously. I saw her a few more times after that, greeting people at a bookstore in San Rafael where a series of Tibetan Buddhist teachers was appearing. “You’re just an old hippie, aren’t you?” she asked me once, and I laugh thinking of that, now. How easy it was for her to break through the walls and find common ground, which is exactly what her poetry does.
She took poetry out of the halls of academe and into the streets, the coffee houses, and the bookstores. Yet her work is informed by a wide range of knowledge and interests, including metaphysics, Sanskrit, and Buddhist philosophy (she was a practicing Buddhist), as well as her early study of Keats and Pound (she sought out Pound as a mentor while he was confined to St. Elizabeth’s Hospital). In 2009, as Poet Laureate of San Francisco, she read from her poem, “First Draft,” which still resonates today:
my vow is:
to remind us all
to celebrate
there is no time
too desperate
no season
that is not
A Season of Song
The New York Times has described Diane di Prima as “…a rare female voice in a male world…” while NPR has referred to her as “one of the most prominent voices of the Beat Generation.” She taught in the poetics programs at the Naropa Institute, the California College of Arts and Crafts, and the New College of California. Among her honors are the National Poetry Association’s Lifetime Achievement Award and an honorary doctorate from St. Lawrence University. Her most recent book, The Poetry Deal, was published by City Lights Foundation in 2014. In his review of that book in Poetry Flash, Brue Isaacson wrote that, “In principle and poetry, di Prima is all about people — loved ones, family, social observations of simple interactions that show larger truths.” Besides her husband, Sheppard Powell, she is survived by five children, four grandchildren, three great grandchildren, and two brothers, according to the L.A. Times.
Jerome Gagnon Blog 