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Our lives are constantly changing as we navigate what we can and can’t control. Every day there is a new beginning and ending—in big and small ways. We fall in love. We lose an eyelash. Write a poem about how your life is changing. Be specific. Change is complex and emotional on any level because it reminds us of our humanity—and of our mortality. Get writing.
P&W-funded Kamilah Aisha Moon currently lives in Brooklyn, New York, and is the author of She Has a Name (Four Way Books). A recipient of fellowships to the Prague Summer Writing Institute, the Fine Arts Work Center, Cave Canem, and the Vermont Studio Center, Moon's work has been featured in several journals and anthologies, including the Harvard Review, jubilat, Sou’wester, Oxford American, Lumina, Callaloo, Villanelles, Gathering Ground, and the Ringing Ear. She has taught English and Creative Writing at Medgar Evers College-CUNY, Drew University, and Adelphi University. Moon holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Sarah Lawrence College.
A book launch can feel much like the beloved jazz classic, “Night in Tunisia,” written by Dizzy Gillespie and Frank Paparelli. In the song, seemingly disparate notes fall into a stunning syncopation, creating a thrilling groove and refrain that gains momentum each time it's played—with each part shining in turn, as well as building together, into crescendos of emotion. This style of improvisation married with exquisite skill and rhythms energizes the heartbeats underneath the beats that are melded with the lush harmonies of the performers and the audience—it pulses love, love, love.
Who knew that a book launch party could feel and be like this?! I didn't, especially before 7 PM on Friday, November 8. The day began with a medley of mishaps and logistical mix-ups—chief among them being that my sisters, flying in from Chicago for the program, were stuck in the airport and kept getting delayed. Unexpected obligations and last-minute details caused stress and anxiety. I've been told these things are inevitable, and that there's a reason we have the adage regarding “the best laid plans of mice and men.”
Fortunately, the outcome wasn't a disaster; in fact, quite the opposite was true. Friends stepped up to lend their hands, their knowledge, and their resources. Beautiful surprises and generous gestures gave us what we needed: The chairs and tables were set up, the food was spread out, and the wine was poured. Beautiful faces flowed in from childhood friends, colleagues, mentors, founders and directors of writing organizations, curators, publishers, poets, artists of all disciplines, former and current students, family members, and friends of friends I met for the first time. Everyone was a distinguished guest.
The night was cool and clear, and the New York City skyline—with two of its majestic bridges visible—glistened beyond the enormous windows of Rachel Eliza Griffiths' new studio, Dumbo Sky. You couldn't ask for a more gracious host. Writer and performer Samantha Thornhill elegantly guided us through the program. It began with the gorgeous voice and brilliance of Karma Mayet Johnson who sang “Little Sparrow,” leading the audience in song above the churning river. What a treat to hear Tina Chang movingly interpret two of my poems and welcome me to our press, Four Way Books. Paul Lisicky responded to a line in one of my poems with his usual grounded grace that reaches into the heart, and Joan Larkin shared vivid, thought-provoking word portraits for us all to consider. Tyehimba Jess brought his unforgettable brand of witnessing, including a poem about Blind Tom, an autistic piano virtuoso during the slavery era. Ross Gay's wonder and revelations charged the room too—including a humorous moment when the doorbell rang at the precise moment he mentioned cathedral chimes in the middle of a deeply poignant poem. Aracelis Girmay spoke from the heart in the beautiful language she is becoming legendary for, and shattered me in the best way with a poem written for the occasion. Then, after viewing the two exquisite book shorts she created for this book projected onto the wall, Rachel Eliza Griffiths introduced me like no one else has—our friendship the greatest gift from my graduate school experience at Sarah Lawrence College.
To say I was overcome is a vast understatement. I was humbled and honored that so many people from most of the communities and institutions I've known were all in one room. To look out into the sea of faces and see years of experiences and joy embodied in the flesh just blew me away. So did the dancing, signing, well-wishes and endless hugs that followed. When writers gather for an occasion, it is golden. I say this also thinking of the beautiful tributes just a few months earlier at a filled-to-capacity Poets House, remembering and celebrating poet Kurt Brown, now on the other side of the sun.
Oh, these moments where we twirl and shine together! Thanks to all who came—I wish I could list every name here. I'll never forget, and I look forward to attending the next reading, the next event, the next beautifully shared moment. How fortunate we all are to have this way of engaging with life as writers and artists, and to have each other. Like the ultimate jazz song, everyone has solos within the grand melody, everyone is backed by the others, everyone makes the song complete.
Photo: Kamilah Aisha Moon. Photo Credit: Rachel Eliza Griffiths.
Support for Readings/Workshops events in New York City is provided, in part, by public funds from the New York State Council on the Arts with the support of Governor Andrew Cuomo and the New York State Legislature, and by the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs in partnership with the City Council. Additional support is provided by the Louis & Anne Abrons Foundation, the A.K. Starr Charitable Trust, the Cowles Charitable Trust, and the Friends of Poets & Writers.
“My life could have been your life, with a twist.” George the Poet finds inspiration in a Paul Graham photograph of a lonely woman on a New York City sidewalk, and uses his poetry to explore the individual’s place in modern society.
Amy Cheney is a librarian and advocate who has served preschoolers, middle schoolers, adults in county and federal facilities, students in juvenile halls, non-traditional library users, and people of color for over twenty-five years. Cheney has brought numerous writers—including Jerry McGill, Deborah Jiang Stein, Jesse De La Cruz, Luis J. Rodriguez, Cesar A. Cruz, Jimmy Santiago Baca, and Ron Glodoski—to conduct readings, writing workshops, and talks with the youth she serves at California's Alameda County Library Juvenile Hall. P&W has been supporting these programs for over a decade.
Cheney's six-word memoir is: "Navigator of insanity, instigator of enlightenment." Her theme songs are "Short Skirt, Long Jacket" by Cake and "I Can See Clearly Now" by Jimmy Cliff. For more information, follow her blog, Reaching Reluctant Readers.
What makes your organization and its programs unique?
The Alameda County Library Juvenile Hall is a partnership between the public library, the county schools, and the Juvenile Justice Center to serve incarcerated youth.
When we first began the program, 81 percent of the youth said they had never heard a published author speak or read their work.
After authors visited the facility, 60 to 90 percent of the youth wanted to read their book or learn more. Sixty-three percent say they learn something new from author visits.
What’s the most moving or memorable thing that’s happened as a result of an event you’ve organized?
Seeing students, who haven’t had positive reading experiences in the past, wanting to read and reaching for the book (as well as having enough of the books to give them) is consistently memorable and moving.
How do you find and invite writers?
It's a process of intention, reading, research, networking, and luck. There were several artists that P&W helped us fund, who were little known at the time.
Walking home one evening, Jerry McGill was shot and paralyzed when he was thirteen years old. The shooter was never found. Jerry wrote a moving book called Dear Marcus, A Letter to the Man Who Shot Me. We were able to touch upon many issues that are often unspoken, but very real for the youth: getting shot, feelings of revenge, and forgiveness. Disability and life after severe trauma is an extremely important topic for our youth, but not often brought to light.
Deborah Jiang Stein was born in prison addicted to heroin. Her journey was fascinating to our girls.
Ron Glodoski does such an incredible program about physical, sexual, and verbal abuse. It is profound and life-changing for many of our youth to read, write, and explore these topics.
Youth are amazed that Jesse De La Cruz made it out of prison and is doing so well after more than forty-three years behind bars.
It’s also terrific to have well-known authors such as Luis J. Rodriguez, Jimmy Santiago Baca, and others grace us with their presence.
How has literary presenting informed your life?
When I was a rage-filled teen, I was forced—at least that’s how I remember it—to hear Maya Angelou speak in a church basement. I was pissed off I was there, but as the program went on I felt my defenses crack and something that had never been available to me opened up inside. This experience was so powerful, I’ve worked for thirteen years to provide the opportunity for others.
I've also learned a tremendous amount about integrity. Writing a book that reflects the truth is one thing, and living it is another!
What do you consider to be the value of literary programs for the community you serve?
I am not even sure how to answer the question adequately. They are invaluable in terms of hope, inspiration, contemplation, freedom, and provocation. Quotes from the students themselves, after meeting Jerry McGill, might help illustrate the value of these programs:
"It was really a very emotional experience. I feel like there should be more people sharing their experience of being victims to people who make crimes; kind of like seeing the other side of the coin. Keep doing the things you're doing in spreading your life story." —S
"I too have been shot and never found out who did it so I can understand that. I know you said that you forgave whoever did shoot you and that makes me think about if I ever knew who did it I would forgive them. I'm going to read your book when I get a chance." —D
"Your story made me want to write more, and to make my own book." —C
"I learned the best thing from you, forgiveness. I'm willing to learn more and hear more from you." —A
Photo: (Left to right) Writer Dream Jordan, librarian Amy Cheney, writer Jeff Rivera, and writer Coe Booth. Credit: David Shankman.
Major support for Readings/Workshops in California is provided by the James Irvine Foundation. Additional support comes from the Friends of Poets & Writers.
“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.” Watch this ethereal visual interpretation and sober reading of Pablo Neruda’s poem “Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines.”
The 14th annual LiTFUSE Poets’ Workshop was held from September 24 to September 26 at the Mighty Tieton Warehouse and nearby venues in Tieton, Washington. The workshop featured readings, performances, and master classes for poets. The faculty included Elizabeth Bradfield, Molly McCully Brown, Matthew Dickman, Camille T. Dungy, Claudia Castro Luna, and Maya Marshall. The cost of registration was $250. Master classes cost an additional $100 to $120 each. A limited virtual program was also available for those unable to travel and was offered at a reduced rate.
LiTFUSE Poets’ Workshop, Tieton Arts & Humanities, P.O. Box 171, Tieton, WA 98947. (509) 979-5190. Lauren Westerfield, Director.
“What makes the engine go? Desire, desire, desire.” Stanley Kunitz, who died in 2006, is seen here at the Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival in 2000 reading “Touch Me.”
Watch this trailer forTar, an independently produced movie based on the 1983 book of the same name by poet C. K. Williams. Twelve New York University students directed the film, which stars James Franco and Mila Kunis.
We all lose things in life that are uniquely special to us: a wool scarf knitted by a beloved friend, a letter opener that belonged to a grandfather, a stuffed animal won for a daughter at a state fair. Life moves forward and so do we. Time crowds old memories with new ones. We misplace the things we love. We lose them. Or, somehow, they just leave us. Write a poem about an object that has disappeared from your life. Use the power of memory and emotion to give it new life, rendering it no longer lost, but found.
P&W-funded Kamilah Aisha Moon currently lives in Brooklyn, New York, and is the author of She Has a Name (Four Way Books). A recipient of fellowships to the Prague Summer Writing Institute, the Fine Arts Work Center, Cave Canem, and the Vermont Studio Center, Moon's work has been featured in several journals and anthologies, including Harvard Review, jubilat, Sou’wester, Oxford American, Lumina, Callaloo, Villanelles, Gathering Ground, and The Ringing Ear. She has taught English and Creative Writing at Medgar Evers College-CUNY, Drew University, and Adelphi University. Moon holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Sarah Lawrence College.
Writing poetry is a solitary endeavor. We carve out (and possibly steal) moments in order to get “the best words in their best order,” as Coleridge wrote. And once the poem is on a website, printed in a journal or book, each reader encounters and interprets those words uniquely, alone.
I'm so grateful for public readings and to participate in the literary community this way—freed from society's silos, if only briefly, to acknowledge what we as people mean to each other.
I love writing in part because of a high school teacher who shared with us his passion and expertise. But it wasn't until I went on a promotional tour in college and read my poetry in front of strangers across the Midwest that I was truly claimed by the craft. To read a line that lands emotionally, to convey images that soothe or startle, to see heads nod and the glimmer of recognition in someone's eyes, and to hear the sighs that someone might emit after tasting a good meal, is so gratifying.
For example, I was moved by a farmer from central Illinois who heard me read “Me and My Friends Circa 1981,” a poem in which I recall what it was like to grow up in an inner city neighborhood. After the reading he walked to the front of the room and thanked me for taking him back to his own childhood: the tire swing on the tree, the pond he used to splash in, the big porch where he ate homemade ice cream. As he heard about my chain-link swings, roller skates on pavement, and sidewalk chalk galleries, he connected with the universal joy of children enjoying summer regardless of geography. He readily saw himself, a farmer of the Silent generation with a grade-school education in an all-white rural town, in my black female coed words.
While compliments feel good, compelling comments are equally powerful. I appreciate the moments when someone says "I never thought of things this way, until your poem" or "Hey, you really pissed me off" or "I forgot about and stopped caring about this, but now I'll always remember." It is a complete honor when people brave the elements, perhaps pay a door fee, or forgo a cozy night on the couch to sit in a room and hear what a poet like me has to say. When poet Lucille Clifton was still with us on this planet, I loved how she would make me giggle from mirth or cry from devastation and find the redeemable in terrible things. She is famous for saying, “Poetry comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable.” Despite being maligned and marginalized by some, poetry's power and longevity are undeniable and vital to society.
I think of the rich, red velvet curtains and slightly beat up music stand at the intimate Perfect Sense Reading Series at Cornelia Street Cafe, hosted by Alissa Heyman. I love the fun and beautiful fervor of the Nuyorican Poets Cafe when Mahogany L. Browne helms the night. I have been nurtured for many years by the wide arms of Bar 13 and LouderArts, equally committed to newcomers and masters, the page and the stage. There's the literary garden cultivated by J.P. Howard, Women Writers In Bloom, and the audacious spectrum across time and aesthetics established by Jason Koo through Brooklyn Poets—from Walt Whitman to Notorious B.I.G.
I want to praise and recognize all of the people who organize such diverse, necessary spaces for readers and writers to gather. Often with little fanfare or compensation commensurate with their level of effort and talent, they make sure we meet regularly to share in this literary ritual that takes place all over the world in amphitheaters, galleries, tiny cafes, and living rooms. Thanks to Poets & Writers for their support of poets and literary venues, and thanks to the organizers and visionaries who conduct these events that celebrate verse and the human spirit, knowing that people will come and be better for it.
Photo: Kamilah Aisha Moon. Photo Credit: Rachel Eliza Griffiths.
Support for Readings/Workshops in New York City is provided, in part, by public funds from the New York State Council on the Arts, and the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, with additional support from the Louis & Anne Abrons Foundation, the Axe-Houghton Foundation, the A.K. Charitable Trust, and the Friends of Poets & Writers.
