Poetry Connection: Santa Barbara Searches for Its Next Poet Laureate

 Melinda Palacio, Santa Barbara Poet Laureate

Melinda Palacio and Kristen Sneddon in the Milpas Parade

The city of Santa Barbara is searching for the next Poet Laureate. Although my term ends in March, you have not heard the last from me. I will continue to promote poetry, plan events, and write poems. One event I am looking forward to is another edition of Poetry in the Parks at the Presidio’s Alcehama Theater. This year, we had poets and two musical acts. Next year, we will add dancers to the presentation celebrating Poetry in the Parks. The Presidio is Santa Barbara’s only state park. The festivities will once again take place in April during National Poetry Month. 

Dancers lining up for the Milpas parade

People often ask me about the role of the Poet Laureate. For me, the role is about promoting poetry and producing events to reach as many local residents as possible. When my neighbor, city council member, Kristen Sneddon, asked me to ride in the Milpas Holiday Parade, I responded with a yelp and a yes. Who can say no to riding in a vintage convertible while waving to the community? It may have been the first time a poet laureate has ridden in the Milpas parade, but I am sure it will not be the last. In addition to giving readings and workshops, I have made it my mission to think outside the box in order to have a stronger community impact as the city’s poetry ambassador. Applications for the next Santa Barbara Poet Laureate will be accepted until February 14

a favorite event from 2024
poetry and  music for Raíces Students at SBCC

Events from my December schedule included: the Milpas Christmas Parade, the Montecito Light Up a

Life Hospice event, supporting poets David Starkey and Catherine Abbey Hodges at their Chaucer’s book signing, attending the Goleta Valley Poetry Series at the Goleta Valley Library, participating in the local author event at the Santa Barbara Public Library, and reading a poem at the tree dedication for Poet Laureate Emerita Sojourner Kincaid Rolle, whom we lost to cancer last November. Find Sojourner’s King Palm Tree behind the County Courthouse on Santa Barbara Street; look for the fifth tree down from Anapamu. 

I am always surprised by how Santa Barbara is both a small and large town. It’s small in that I have met more people in public places who now recognize me as the Poet Laureate. I am also pleasantly surprised when I meet a new poet. There just might be a new candidate for Poet Laureate whom I have not met. Now is your chance. A few weeks ago, at the central library’s local author day, I met C.M. Rivers. This week’s poetry connection features three poems by C.M. Rivers. 

Snapshot, 1975

C.M. Rivers

 

It’s easy to get carried away looking at what’s on the surface,

though I agree with you when you say it’s all in the details.

 

Truth is, all this one shows is a funky old farmhouse kitchen 

with a linoleum floor, the burnt sienna of an August afternoon 

 

filtering in through the window above an aluminum sink, 

a baby boy in blue overalls on the flight deck of a high chair,

 

the ecstasy of a pan of brownies upon him, a single candle 

at its center, plump feet dangling like two spools of thread, 

 

stubby fingers doing a Jackson Pollock on the canvas 

of his sunny face in a chocolate medium, while somewhere 

 

Jimmy Carter is speaking out against racial segregation

and Steve Martin does a show with an arrow through his head.   

 

But this was when you were still new and whole, before 

time and circumstance both graced and unraveled you,

 

before you held this year’s photograph in your crooked hand 

and saw your face illuminated by the prairie-fire on the cake. 

 C.M. Rivers grew up reading to the sound of rain on the roof in Oregon's Willamette Valley.  His work has appeared in literary magazines and journals around the U.S.  He is the author of two books of poetry: How To Carry Soup (2019 Homebound Publications Poetry Prize) and Along the Way ~ Poems for the Wayward (2024 Nautilus Silver Medal for Poetry).  His poetry has been nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize.

*an earlier version of this column appears in the Santa Barbara Independent

Dreams of Gaza

                                                                               

Music will always sooth the weary soul

     Happy New Year! After suffering through a week of the flu, I thought I could piece something together for today’s space, but nothing came to me. No, that’s not true. The fact is that too many subjects came to me, but I didn’t have the mental firepower to stay with any one topic for an entire essay, except to say: the best thing about getting sick is the glorious moment one begins to feel better, knowing the worst has passed, and the dire thoughts of living a life in permanent pain slip away, or worse – the sick person slips away, without even knowing it.

     You just go to sleep and don’t wake up. That’s it, right? Death, the underworld, crossing the River Styx, or entering Mictlan, the Aztec world of death, but where in its nine levels would I end up? I’ve done my time on earth with the lotus eaters. Too much lotus, no bueno, but “I’ve changed,” I’d tell Michlantecuhtli, its god in residence, “honest I have.”

     He’d say, “Level six, down there with the Chichimecas, your people.”

     I’d argue, “But my people are from Jalisco, the Texcuexes.”

     I can hear him now, “Ni modo. It’s all the same, Texcuexes, Chichimecas, rebels all.”    

     That’s kind of how my dreams were going, during the worst of the flu, in an out of sleep, weird dreams, even thinking I was in Gaza and couldn’t get out. I ran down one street up another, bombs going off everywhere. I’d wake up, shake my head to clear out all the cobwebs, to escape Gaza, as the bombs fell everywhere. Just when I figured my head was clear, I’d go back to sleep, and, again, Gaza, following others, looking for a way out. No good.” I slept for two days, no food, little drink, my wife forcing crackers and electrolytes on me.
     Once I felt better, it was my cell phone warning me, the little red icon of a heart, which tracks my daily footstep count sent me a message and said something like, “We notice a change in your daily activity. Would you like us to share it with anybody, your doctor, a friend? Is there no privacy in this world? Then, I felt guilty.

     I try to walk five-to-six thousand steps a day, seven or eight if I’m on a roll. I wanted to answer the app and say, “Look, man. I’ve been sick, but I’m on the mend. Don’t worry.  No, don’t contact anybody. I’m fine. Then, I realized, there is no “man”. In fact, there is no human at the other end. It’s an app, operated with an algorithm, programmed to send me a message to notify me of the change, yet, the words came across as so sincere, like somebody out there really cared about my health, but there was nobody at the other end, just my cell phone screen blinking at me.

      So, as I wake and take my first real meal, I see, not only are the bombs still falling in Gaza and the Ukraine, but a terrorist has driven his pickup into a group of revelers in New Orleans. They moved the Sugar Bowl date, but the Rose Bowl is still on. Ted Turner's station of old movies in showing the Monterey International Pop Festival, a blast from the past, talking 'bout my generation. California Dreaming, written and sung by the Mommas and Papas, a New York group. 

     Rock 'n roll, the best chicken soup in the world. Somehow, I can’t help but think it’s all connected. For sure, I am back. 

     I guess I am getting better. Happy New Year!!!!

Dreams of Green: A Three Kings' Day Story

Written by Mariel Jungkunz.

Illustrated by Mónica Paola Rodriguez.

 

 

Publisher: ‎Astra Young Readers

Language: ‎English

Hardcover: ‎32 pages

ISBN-10: ‎1662620373

ISBN-13: ‎978-1662620379

Reading age: ‎ 4 - 8 years

 

In this story about Día de los Reyes, or Three Kings’ Day, a girl and her family discover new ways to celebrate their Puerto Rican heritage in Ohio.

 

It’s eleven days after Christmas and Lucía yearns to be in lush Puerto Rico celebrating Día de los Reyes with family and friends. But this year, instead of dancing and singing in the parrandas of her Puerto Rican neighborhood, she is surrounded by cold and silence in snow-blanketed Ohio. How will she ever be able to guide the Three Kings to her new home in the frosty Midwest? This picture book is a celebration of Puerto Rican culture, heartwarming family tradition, and a reminder that we all carry a piece of home with us wherever life may take us.

 

 

 

El Verde De Mis Sueños: Un Cuento De La Tradición De Los Tres Reyes Magos

 

In this Spanish edition of Dreams of Green: A Three Kings' Day Story, a girl and her family discover new ways to celebrate their Puerto Rican heritage in Ohio.

 

Review

 

International Latino Book Award Honorable Mention

 

 “A lovely tribute to El Día de los Reyes (Three Kings’ Day) and how traditions aren’t tied to a place but to those who celebrate them…This poignant picture book presents the traditions associated with Latin American celebrations of Epiphany Day (January 6) wrapped in the story of a little girl adjusting to life on the mainland. Rodriguez’s majestic spreads alternate ­between the emerald green scenes in Puerto Rico and the colder but still beautiful snow scenes of Ohio. The language has a nostalgic tinge, worshipful of the island and reverent of the religious and cultural holiday. Back matter includes explanation of the holiday, its basis in the Bible, and how countries all over the world honor it. A beautiful package, this special book belongs on all Spanish-language and holiday shelves.” —School Library Journal, starred review

 

"A comforting holiday story about sustaining tradition while making room for new beginnings."—Kirkus Reviews

 

"Soft, digitally rendered illustrations highlight thebeauty and fun Lucía finds in her family’s new experience of winter and the warmth they create for the holiday." —The Horn Book

 

"As Lucía yearns for the country left behind...the holiday reassures the protagonist that their connection to their home country and culture is far from lost. Rodríguez’s digital art juxtaposes the landscapes of Puerto Rico and Ohio throughout. "—Publishers Weekly

 

 

Mariel Jungkunz is a former journalist and a graduate of the Las Hermanas mentorship program for unpublished Latinx kidlit writers at Las Musas Books. Originally from Puerto Rico, she currently resides in Ohio, where she works as an editor for dictionary.com.

 

Monica Rodriguez has a BFA in Fine Art from Savannah College of Art and Design and works primarily with picture book illustration and character design.