Poetry Month Is Fast Approaching–Send Miriam’s Well A Poem!

Happy spring equinox! Hot Springs is in my rear view mirror-sad to leave, happy to be home! Or actually, headed out on some more travels, and then home! It’s a restless time of year–spring fever!

Looking ahead–April is poetry month. I’ll be blogging a poem a day, often using work from the last year of the blog. But mostly YOUR work!

Miriam’s Well is glad to blog previously published work–just send the credit. Please send the poem in the body of the email as well as by attachment or pdf. Fancy indentations and italics don’t work too well in wordpress, so these may get lost. Also–looking for concrete poems, 1 word poems, tiny poems, images that might “count” as poems, haiga, translations, and more. Email for blog is msagan10#5@aol.com

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Weathergrams done with kids–and some adults–at Ozark cultural center, Hot Springs National Park

Fond Farewell to Poetry Month

April isn’t my cruelest month, because it is my birthday month, Poetry Month, and Santa Fe is full of lilacs and…hail, snow, sleet, and rain. All of which are a treat in the desert.

Poetry Month gives me a chance to review–and re-blog–work on Miriam’s Well and this round I was glad to add some new poets too as well as new work by favorite contributors.

The semester is ending, and I’m humming “school’s out forever” because even though it will start again, summer vacation just feels wonderfully endless at its start.

So–what to blog? Some prose, images, news…and yes, always poetry. Planning a cross country trip full of roadside art, food, and a mini residency. SO I hope to report on between here and there–God willing & the creek don’t rise, as my husband Rich says.

What do you want to read? What do you want to write?

Send me something–I’ve got a particular yen for haibun, flash memoir, and musings on identity.

 

Poetry Month #30: Pow Wow Haiku

We had a very special time at Gathering of Nations yesterday in Albuquerque. Incredible dancing, gorgeous regalia, and unusual crafts from all over the Americas.

The atmosphere manages to be festive, exciting, and down home at the same time. It’s a pleasure to be there even if it is the hard seats of the Pit!

And many tiny intimate moments in the crowd lend themselves to haiku:

pow wow dancer
in feathered headdress
checks his cell phone

hand mirror glace,
the jungle dancer takes
one last stitch

220px-UIATF_Pow_Wow_2007_-_61A

Photo from Wikipedia, which has an unusually informative article.

Poetry Month #29: Taste of Hate by Behzad Dayeny

TASTE OF HATE

I tasted hatred once
Placed in my mouth
And I began to chew,
A lot like tough meat
Stringy and chewy
Although, I must admit
It was well seasoned to
A kind of bitter sweet.
As I swallowed it down
Like an energy drink
It got my heart racing
What an invigorating feeling
Felt like I had just received
A big shot of courage
I wallowed in this feeling
Till it worked its way through
Then I began to feel the pain.
Like a bleeding ulcer
It began to cut me to shreds
Making me want to scream.
Since then I’ve been more careful
I have learned to avoid it
I’ve learned to refuse it
Though on countless occasions
It has been offered to me
On a silver platter

 

This poem is forthcoming in “The Santa Fe Literary Review”–look for it in autumn, 2016

Poetry Month #24: Sandhill Cranes Pantoum by Ursula Moeller

One of the most read poems on the blog–Poetry Month #24

Miriam's Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond

Sandhill Cranes, Bosque del Apache

Orion overhead, nature’s cycles,
our sunrise breath hangs smoking
frozen silhouettes reflect in water
like Japanese painting strokes

our sunrise breath hangs smoking
shrill crane’s ancient honking
like Japanese painting strokes
karoo karoo greets a newborn day

crane’s ancient honking in minor key
night-frost crystals encrust
karoo karoo greets a newborn day
gangly stiff knees bend backwards

night-frost crystals encrust
like mine of a sometime morning
cold stiff knees bend backwards
legs slender as lakeside sedges

sometimes like mine of a morning
limbs barely support feather bustle
legs slender as lakeside sedges
red-capped cranes mate for life

limbs barely support feather bustle
daily quest for winter’s food
red-capped cranes mate for life
coyote lurks behind tamarisk

daily quest for winter’s food
undulating necklace pink at dawn
coyote lurks behind tamarisk
wingbeats whistle, necks extend

crane-necklace undulates, pink at dawn
silhouettes overhead reflect in water
wingbeats…

View original post 16 more words

Poetry Month #23: Under The Porch by Dennis Nurske

Dennis Nurske

Under the Porch
Lucky peeled the wings
from a fly
and gave them to me,
as Father once trusted me
with the tiny screws
when he fixed his glasses.
But in my cupped hands
they disappeared.
It was a miracle.
We looked everywhere.
The fly buzzed —
how could it still buzz? —
much louder than before.
At last we reconciled ourselves
and knelt with great compassion
and watched as it moved
in an almost line,
then an almost circle,
there in the crawl space
under the huge brushes
rigid with shellac:
and we were rapt
as if we’d found
the way out of loneliness.

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Curated by Elizabeth Jacobson