Michael Sedano
La Palabra hosted by Karineh Mahdessian ordinarily brightens the fourth--the final--Sunday of every month, but because May 2015's calendar quirk brought a fifth Sunday, La Palabra bided its time until the fifth, final, Sunday.
Dynamic hostess Karineh Mahdessian confessed to butterflies fifteen minutes before the two o'clock curtain. She looked across the empty main gallery of Highland Park's Avenue 50 Studio and saw an empty circle of chairs.
As La Palabra has proven year after year, month after month, people thronged through the front and side doors and by 2:00, Mahdessian was smiling broadly at the full house. Mejor, as the reading progressed, the house added visitors until La Palabra became an SRO event.
Featured Poets: Jenuine Poetess and Thelma Reyna
Tempus fugit! One of the featured readers, Jenuine Poetess, was on her way to LAX to board a flight to Italy. The ticketed passenger motivated the on-the-dot start.
Jenuine Poetess wrapped her reading and headed out the door toward her 100 Thousand Poets for Change event in Salerno. The next global 100TPC event comes in September. More information, and sign-ups here.
The second featured poet, Thelma Reyna followed the as-always fully subscribed Open Mic.
Reyna, Poet Laureate of Altadena, recently launched her ALTADENA POETRY REVIEW: ANTHOLOGY 2015. Reviewer Carol Davala observes, "This well-rounded book showcases work representing a broad spectrum of poetic style and subject matter, and it includes details indicative of spanning generations, cultural diversity, and a special blend of topical life experiences. From traditional formats to free-flowing verse, rhyming acrostics, elemental haiku and tankas, the poetic voices illuminate childhood memories, observe modern technology, and reflect on nature for both its beauty and consequences." Here's a link to the full review.
Thelma Reyna knows how to hold an audience. Today's reading threaded her work with a running commentary focused on a poet's sources of inspiration. She transitioned between readings telling biographical stories, current events items, and other material that lent her compositional urgency.
Among the places a poet finds poems is familia. Victor Reyna, Thelma's husband, beamed throughout the reading, knowing first-hand the sweat and tears that produced the works that Thelma reads so effectively, as if the poems were writing themselves in the moment.
Open Mic Frequent Guests and a Debut
Poetry at Avenue 50 Studio is a regular event, with La Palabra and the Bluebird series. The Open Mic sign-up fills quickly with local poets as well as visitors to the region making their first time presenting in Highland Park.
Given the relaxed atmosphere, many sign with only their first name. Some poets arrive while the reading is in progress, or do not sign up yet elect to join the readers on-the-fly.
Karineh Mahdessian watches the time carefully but generously finds space for readers not on the list. "Anyone want to read?" The hapless photographer is left high and dry by that, able to create an image but unable to ID some readers.
Ni modo; among the frustrations of a poetry foto essay is being unable to share the poems themselves, so what's one additional frustration? Lacking the poet's name, or last name, simply adds to the reasons to attend the next poetry event at Avenue 50.
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| Left to right, top-bottom: Don Kingfisher Campbell. idi. Jackie. Art. Mahdessian insisted Art return with his gut-strung guitar to play a bit of Bach. |
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| A fabulous reading about the poet's notches on a bed post entertained. Mira Mataric. Poet in a black shirt works from memory. Briony James. |
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| Among the pleasures of an Open Mic, a debut! Marsha Oseas shares her first public reading. |
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| Seven, Brian Dunlap, energetic G T Foster uses the full area; an unidentified gentleman. |
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| Prof Jonathan Vos Post, like Foster, used the space available to maximum advantage. His Space Shuttle necktie mirrors his subject, the ghost in the machine. |
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| Victor, Vos Post, Pauline Wiland, C E Jordan |
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| C E Jordan invites gente to an upcoming poetry event |
Photography note: ISO3200, plus 2 stops against the bright windows produces acceptable images, most 1/50 f/5.6. The seating circle creates challenges for photographer and poets. Reading from one's seat severely limits the effectiveness of text-bound readers. The photographer leans and twists to capture near-by readers. All-in-all, such a setting is fun.
Fabulous Mural Event Features Stellar Artists
La Bloga friend, Isabel Rojas-Williams, Executive Director of Mural Conservancy of Los Angeles (MCLA) sends the following:
It would be wonderful should you be available to join us at Couturier Gallery for "L.A. Muralists: In Their Studios ll," an exhibition showcasing pioneer muralists, mid-career, and emerging artists, thereby giving a new generation of artists the opportunity to connect with some of LA’s most prominent public artists.
10% of the proceeds will benefit The Mural Conservancy of Los Angeles. Looking forward to seeing you there & thank you for your support!
What: L.A. Muralists: In Their Studios ll
When: June 6th, 6-8pm (opening reception)
Where: Couturier Gallery, 166 N. La Brea Ave, LA 90036
Who: Angelina Christina, David Botello, Pablo Cristi, Wayne Healy, Judithe Hernández, Alex "Defer" Kizu, Kofie, Lydia Emily, Kent Twitchell, John Valadez, and Richard Wyatt
Francisco X. Alarcón, Carl Allen Begay, José Hector Cadena, Ángel Mario Escobar, Sam Hamod, Briana Muñoz, Sharon Elliott
With Father's Day an upcoming June ritual, today La Bloga-Tuesday happily celebrates the first of two On-line Floricantos. The Moderators of Poetry of Resistance: Poets Responding to SB 1070, led by peripatetic poet Iris de Anda, nominate seven poems to launch the pair of June On-line Floricantos.
POETA MACEHUAL*
por Francisco X. Alarcón
soy un poeta
macehual, seguidor
de mariposas
un trovador
sin corte, sin cuartel
que anda a pie
por los senderos
sin caminantes fuera
de los linderos
mi voz es flor,
canto silvestre libre
como el rocío
la Luna de abril
es mi madre del cielo
que me bendice
el río revuelto
que un huracán desata
es hermano mío
soy un poeta
hacedor de versos
de vida y lluvia
sin otro templo
que la cima del monte
bajo el Sol
mi cara la hallo
en las caras y sonrisas
de mi gente
soy un poeta
macehual, seguidor
de mariposas
sin otro techo
que el cielo raso
lleno de estrellas
mi bandera es
blanca nube del cielo,
paloma de paz
el mundo entero
-ya sin fronteras- es
mi casa y solar
* Macehual: término náhuatl (azteca) para la gente común que forma la mayoría del pueblo y cuya labor constituye el meollo vital de la sociedad.
MACEHUAL (COMMON FOLK) POET
by Francisco X. Alarcón
I am a macehual
poet, a follower
of butterflies
a troubadour
with no court or quarter,
a hiker on foot
trekking paths with
no other walkers, beyond
well travelled ways
my voice is a flower,
a wild song free
like the dew
April’s Moon is
my mother blessing me
from the sky
the unruly river
a hurricane brings about
is my own brother
I am a poet,
a wordsmith of verses
for life and rain
with no other temple
than the mountain summit
under the Sun
I find my face
on the faces and smiles
of my people
I am a macehual
poet, a follower
of butterflies
with no other ceiling
than the open sky
full of stars
my sole flag is
a white cloud in the sky,
a dove of peace
the whole world
-already borderless- is
my home and backyard
Macehual: A Nahuatl (Aztec) term for the common folk, the bulk of the people, whose labor constitutes the vital core of society.
FOWK POET
Francisco X. Alarcón
am a fowk makar,
a follaer
o butteries
a fowk singer
wi nae coort or quarter,
a traiker on fuit
traikin peths alane,
ayont
weill-traikit weys
ma vice's a flooer,
a wull sang lowse
lik the deow
Aprile's muin's
ma mither sainin me
frae the lift
the gurly watter
blowster steert
is ma ain brither
am a makar,
wrochtin verses
fir life an weet
wi nae ither tempel
than yon muntain peen
unner the sin
a fin ma neb
in aw the smiles
o ma ain fowk
am a fowk makar,
follaer
o butteries
wi nae ither ruif
nor the apen lift
fou o sterns
ma yin flag's
a fite clud i the lift,
a doo o Pace
the hail warl
-a'ready mairchless -
is ma hame, ma back coort
Scots translation by John McDonald
Modern Day Warrior
By Carl Allen Begay - Navajo Nation - Nakai Dine/Tahnezahi Clans.
I am a modern day warrior
from the Navajo Nation
I am
living and surviving
the holocaust
on my people
the Indigenous People
of Turtle Island
aka America
We have survived
in spite of all
the tactics
by the u.s government
and all political corporate bullsh*t
of this country
We will not be wiped
off the face of this earth.
We are here
with loud voices
strong hearts
strong minds
strong bodies
strong spirits.
We are still here
and
We Shall Remain.
Cruzando
Por José Hector Cadena
¿Qué estrategias existen para calmar las ansias que surgen
cuando el border agent me cierra la reja?
Me hubiera comprado una nieve de limón pero
es demasiado tarde para buscar un alivio frío azucarado
no hay remedio más que esperar en mi carro encajonado
entre cámaras y letreros y perros enloquecidos por encontrar droga,
todo esto es un juego para ellos, un juego
Con la música de la radio me tranquilizo y me doy cuenta
que tal vez deba practicar la paciencia,
pronto regresará el borde agent de llevar a otro sospechoso
al secondary inspection a que le pregunten de todo y de más
Al abrirse la reja, el border agent me señala que me arrime
y pregunta de donde vengo, porque fui, que traigo, en un tono
que intenta hacerme sentir desposeído, pero al ver que no
me tiembla la voz, sigue a inspeccionar mi carro, revolviendo y
azotando con un tubo de metal, tap, tap, tap,
An Apology to My Children
By Ángel Mario Escobar
In the distant sleep
bodies I love
rest underneath
an old Amate tree
I smile
to ease
my broken
years
thirty-six
familiar
needles
knitting
histories
across borders
leaning on
secret tears
my children
know nothing of
Salvadoran rezos
prayers that won't give up
a long journey
echoing desperate footsteps
back in Morazan
a lineage crackling
like dry leaves
a child crying out for help
leaping red puddles
Now opening doors
so that tender kiss
can be passed on
to his children
who demand
to know
why daddy
mourns
while he
gazes
at the
deep
sea
What Shall We Say Today: What Shall We Do Today
By Sam Hamod
what now
can we say
about israelis...
who shoot young girls
or young soccer players
just for fun—
and what is worse,
they get away with it
not only that,
but
what can we say
about America
or
the americans who
support these atrocities,
whose government
gives money freely
to Israel,
while letting americans
go hungry,
go malnourished
lets cities go bankrupt
while their citizens still pay taxes
to this same government
that doesn’t care about them
what can we say
to a world
that allows this to go on
day
after day
after day
after day after day
while the world
looks the other way,
while the American president
preaches peace and justice, but
closes his eyes to these killings,
these brutalities,
who ignores it when Israelis
kill innocent American kids
who go to Palestine
to help
in humanitarian ways
what are we to say,
what are we to think,
what are we to feel,
are we to love Israel?
are we to love our
corrupt u.s. government?
are we to stand by
and let this evil continue?
shall we let ignorant alleged pastors,
lead ignorant people to love
this Israel that commits these crimes?
this is a day
we should all stand up,
this is a day
we should all write in protest
this is a day
we should all work and pray for justice
in a world gone mad,
in a world in the hands of devils,
especially those who run Israel and America
What Shall We Say Today: What Shall We Do Today
what now can we say about israelis... who shoot young girls or young soccer players just for fun—and what is worse, they get away with it
not only that, but what can we say about America or the americans who support these atrocities, whose government gives money freely to Israel, while letting americans go hungry, go malnourished lets cities go bankrupt while their citizens still pay taxes to this same government that doesn’t care about them
what can we say to a world that allows this to go on day after day after day after day after day
while the world looks the other way, while the American president preaches peace and justice, but closes his eyes to these killings, these brutalities, who ignores it when Israelis kill innocent American kids who go to Palestine to help in humanitarian ways
what are we to say, what are we to think,
what are we to feel,
are we to love Israel?
are we to love our corrupt u.s. government?
are we to stand by and let this evil continue?
shall we let ignorant alleged pastors, lead ignorant people to love this Israel that commits these crimes?
this is a day we should all stand up, this is a day we should all write in protest this is a day we should all work and pray for justice in a world gone mad, in a world in the hands of devils, especially those who run Israel and America
Raíz
By Briana Muñoz
You tell me that my scars are hideous.
I respond by saying “Hideous, tu madre.”
You formally inform me, in a Times New Roman letter
That my school work is “below average”
I ask you, “And exactly what is your definition of average?”
You laugh at the music blaring out of my
’93 nearly broken down pick-up truck
Rusty paint, chipping away like the old folks at the country club
But my music,
My music es de mi papá
This music represents beautiful colored women
In beautiful colored dresses
Multicolored ribbons
Floral head pieces
Canciones del país de mis abuelos
México Lindo
What my nana calls it.
So please, continue making fun
Of her thick Spanish accent
While you sit there
Ordering wet burritos and carne asada fries
From the Mexican food restaurant
Down the street from the multi-million dollar houses
In Del Mar
Because my culture is pinche beautiful
And so is my abuelita in her plaid mandil and sweaty forehead
And those mariachi lyrics I yell out proudly
Beautiful are my dark eyebrows which you make fun of
But I know they were passed down from my hard working mother
My culture is pinche beautiful; I refuse to allow you to tell me otherwise.
Violent Domesticity
by Sharon Elliott
what is it
they want
when they break a woman
wring her eyes dry
into a room
no bigger than a shotglass
carve her bones
into
a leftover casserole
sift her blood
into a bend
in the river
gag her
with her
own tongue
it must be
nothing
a momentary leap of groin
a game of tag
with eternity
theirs not hers
or maybe
the only something they can feel
is her suffering
through their
hands
her heart is broken
pumps only
at their whim
from its place underfoot
a power
so intoxicating
they refuse her escape
keep her breath
in a box
by the fireplace
like a match
to burnish
the night
when they break a woman
wring her eyes dry
into a room
no bigger than a shotglass
carve her bones
into
a leftover casserole
sift her blood
into a bend
in the river
gag her
with her
own tongue
it must be
nothing
a momentary leap of groin
a game of tag
with eternity
theirs not hers
or maybe
the only something they can feel
is her suffering
through their
hands
her heart is broken
pumps only
at their whim
from its place underfoot
a power
so intoxicating
they refuse her escape
keep her breath
in a box
by the fireplace
like a match
to burnish
the night
Copyright © 2015 Sharon Elliott. All Rights Reserved.
Francisco X. Alarcón, José Hector Cadena, Ángel Mario Escobar, Sam Hamod, Briana Muñoz, Sharon Elliott
and www.contemporaryworldliterature.com He has a Ph.D from the Writers Workshop and has taught at the Univ of Iowa and at other leading universities in America and overseas. He may be reached for readings, books and lectures at: drsamhamod@gmail.com
She has featured in poetry readings in the San Francisco Bay area: Poetry Express, Berkeley, CA in 2012 and La Palabra Musical, Berkeley, CA in 2013.
She was awarded the Best Poem of 2012, The Day of Little Comfort, Sharon Elliott, La Bloga Online Floricanto Best Poems of 2012, 11/2013, http://labloga.blogspot.com/2013/01/best-poems-of-2012.html
On-line Poetry Anthology: Chicanas en Italia
In her column Monday, Xánath Caraza announced the publication in Italy of seven Chicana poets. Here's a YouTube that includes readings of the works, in Spanish and translated into Italian.
The cover arte is by noted Chicana artist Pola Lopez. Pola's Los Angeles studio shares space in Avenue 50 Studio.
Submissions
Razorhouse Magazine
Now There Is One
Once there were two Raza-Centric Writers Conferences. With the suspension--or demise--of the National Latina Latino Writers Conference formerly hosted by the National Hispanic Cultural Center in Albuquerque NM, only the East Coast iteration remains, the Comadres and Compadres Latino Writers Conference in New York City.
Offering workshops, camaraderie, keynote addresses, comida, and, most importantly, individual interviews with influential gente in the publishing industry, the 4th annual conference helps open the door that quality work keeps open.
Click here for registration datos.
1 comment:
Michael, a superb job! Thanks very much for the great photos you took of all the poets at our reading in La Palabra, Avenue 50 Studio yesterday. Thanks also for your summary of our event and your kind words about Karineh Mahdessian, host of event; Jenuine Poetess, fellow featured poet; and me. I believe you captured the spirit of the energetic event, and our open mic poets must feel proud of their job as well. It was great to have you and your wife Barbara there. Gracias!
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