after Adam Zagajewski, translated by Clare Cavanagh
Try to praise this chaotic world, as the first of April dawns fresh, with welcome light, and slight breeze of delight. The blossom is waiting to bloom as the fruit trees inch towards the sky. You must praise this chaotic world. You must keep hope when things go awry while those few, usually white and male, act like stewards for all humankind, communities they have very little contact with let alone care about. You should praise the chaotic world. Remember you are not alone, within you are generations of people who have been here before. Who did not moan or falter but protested. They survived so we could thrive in companionship with the trees, seas, hummingbirds and ferns. Praise the chaotic world and the chance to emerge as Spring light has returned after when we think that all was lost.
It really wasn’t on my radar. But I must have signed up for a co-writing salon with Lemon Grove Writers. And you know how it is, afterwards they send you they send you other emails, sharing the stuff to buy into. Well one such email was sharing that the Lemon Grove Writerswere offering a free 30 day poetry prompt email send out for the month of April to coincide with National Poetry Month in the States. As you know I’ve tried a number of years to write a poem a day in April, some years more successful than others.
It’s free, what did I have to lose? So expect to find a poem a day here for the month of April as I try to create something to the given prompt. I begin today with the weather. If you want to receive these poetry prompts in your inbox, just sign up here. Happy writing.
I’m not sure how much I’ve shared here. I’m not sure if I wanted to speak it into existence out of fear of jinxing it. Maybe.
Last year, my last publisher Andy Croft got in contact with me asking for my poetry collection. Smokestack Books is planning to close its publishing doors and Andy wanted to go out having published my next collection.
We have a history as Andy published Laventille (2015) and stood by me throughout the whole ‘shit-hit-the-fan’ experience when my life and profession and writing were ruined ( or there was an attempt to ruin me as I’m still here to tell the tale).
So I said yes, maybe naively. As since then I’ve been on a rollercoaster of feelings as I attempted to bring the collection into existence.
At some point I will share some of the poems within the collection. Some of the poems started within this blog. But even though I just got asked last year to complete this collection, I feel, no I know, this collection has been nine years in the making. Ever since Sheree Mack was cancelled in May 2015, I’ve been making my way back to Sheree Mack, someone I didn’t even know existed until she was forced to start again from nothing to building a much stronger and truer foundation.
(Speaking about Robert Lowell’s poetry) “Lowell removes the mask. His speaker is unequivocally himself, and it is hard not to think of Life Studies as a series of personal confidences, rather shameful, that one is honor-bound not to reveal.”
M. L. Rosenthal’s article “Poetry as Confession.”
I’m taking a four week confessional poetry course with midnight & indigo. Founded in 2018, midnight & indigo is a small publisher and literary journal that provides a space for Black women writers to share their narratives with the world.
Tw weeks in and I’m loving the course, Tell Me Something Real: How to Write Confessional Poetry. Not only is the tutor, Schyler Butler knowledgeable, and thorough providing great examples for poetry within this genre all from Black women, but the group of writers signed up for the course bring it every week with their insight and feelings around each poem we read and discuss.
And then we get to trial out what we’ve learnt through these close writings within our own writing, as the sessions finishes with time to write a first draft of a poem and then share it with the group. I’m enjoying what I’m coming up with after being inspired. Because in all honesty, from time I’ve been a confessional poet but have never smashed the term on it.
Confessional poetry in essence can be distilled to 4 main components.
Be of an intimate subject matter.
Use the first person.
Be autobiographical or seen/ appear to be.
Use skilled craftsmanship.
I’m working on a new body of work now. So still in the draft stage but I’ll share a poem from time here, as evidence of my appreciation and dance with this form of poetry.
White Women
Within my family, there are white women. White women who married black men. I forget, neglect the fact that their blood flows through mine.
Trace the past, a sea of faceless white is mine. The black men forefront, a mist of women behind. Their names, I don’t know or forget.
They are the enigma, shadows. Forget the cleaning and cooking, their duty and mine, they went against the grain, steadfast women.
In the corner of the frame, you white women are not forgotten. Your spirit is mine.
Living Wild Studios 