Moving to WordPress!

Moving out, and moving in. Or how to put several years of your life in little boxes, a photo by C1ssou on Flickr.

I've moved my blog and hope you'll follow me there too at AndreaKBeltran.

Thanks for your reading, conversation, and support! Andrea

Moment of Flight

Some photographs from this year's Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta:

I'll pair these with D.A. Powell's poem "Chronic" which begins, 

were lifted over the valley, its steepling dustdevils

the redwinged blackbirds convened

vibrant arc their swift, their dive against the filmy, the finite air

Take a Poem, Leave a Poem II

It's time for another Take a Poem, Leave a Poem segment on the blog. To show you how it works, my first Take a Poem, Leave a Poem post is below:


I've been inspired by the "take a penny, leave a penny" jar at the local deli. 

Poems in the jar today:

"Arf" by Jack Myers
Naomi Shihab Nye reading her found poem "One Boy Told Me"
"Con el dolor de la mortal herida" or "Love Opened a Mortal Wound" by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, translated by Jaime Manrique and Joan Larkin
"In Praise of Noise" by James Arthur
"A Coin-Operated Railroad" by Mary Biddinger 

Please take at least one, and please leave a story or a poem in it's place in the comments section.

Happy reading! Andrea

Arizona's Banned Books

Last week was the 30th anniversary of Banned Books Week. Coincidentally, Librotraficante's underground library was set to open at the main YWCA branch here in El Paso this past Saturday. The American Library Association states that "while books have been and continue to be banned, part of the Banned Books Week celebration is the fact that, in a majority of cases, the books have remained available. This happens only thanks to the efforts of librarians, teachers, students, and community members who stand up and speak out for the freedom to read."

I'm proud to have witnessed such efforts this weekend in my hometown. The vision and dedication of Tony Diaz from Librotraficante and Cemellí de Aztlán and Sandra Braham of the YWCA is inspiring.  People were moved to tears during and after the organizers and guests spoke about the importance of saving our books for future generations. The company producing Rudolfo Anaya's Bless Me, Ultima as a movie (release date is September 21, 2012), donated 40 copies of the book, 20 in English and 20 in Spanish. I watched a woman brush away tears while signing out one of these copies and will never underestimate the power of a book again.


If Arizona is banning Mexican-American studies and confiscating books as if they're illegal drugs, what is going to happen to the education and supporting literature of other cultures, the very cultures like our own who helped define America over the past decades?

How can we help save these books? Donate a book, read one of these books and share it with a friend or family member, host a book club, help sponsor an upcoming event, just go out and witness an event such as this in your local area.

"I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples." - Mother Teresa

For more on the Librotraficante movement:

Activists defend Chicano literature - El Paso Times, February 2012
Librotraficante: On the way to Arizona - The Texas Observer, March 2012
El Paso library to fight bans on books - El Paso Times, September 2012
The Battleground for America's Narrative: An Annotated Bibliography of 80 Banned Books in America - Compiled by Elaine Romero, located on Librotraficante's website

Why Do You Write?

Purpose has been on my mind lately. Passion has been on my mind lately too. I'm working on my statement of purpose and a few critical essays for the upcoming MFA application season. After reading too many essays and comments about the "To MFA or not" debate, my mind's become a little foggy. What is it really that I'm seeking? Why am I wanting to pursue my MFA? One answer: To become a better read and writer.

I came upon this essay by Junot Díaz yesterday afternoon: "Becoming a Writer." To quote from his last paragraph: "...a writer is a writer because even when there is no hope, even when nothing you do shows any sign of promise, you keep writing anyway."

The fog is beginning to clear, and I'm still writing. I hope you are too.

P.S. If you're a fan of Junot Díaz's work, his new book This is How You Lose Her hits bookstores on September 11th.

Take a Poem, Leave a Poem

I've been inspired by the "take a penny, leave a penny" jar at the local deli.

Poems in the jar today:

W.S. Merwin reading "Yesterday"

"Wondrous" by Sarah Freligh

"Crush" by Ada Limon
Saeed Jones reading "The Blue Dress in Mother's Closet"

Please take at least one, and please leave a story or a poem in it's place in the comments section.

Happy reading! Andrea

A Found Poem Inspired by Elvis

Yesterday marked 35 years since Elvis' untimely passing. I know I'm a day late, but what better day than a Friday to celebrate The King? Here's a found poem I wrote comprised entirely of titles from a good number of his songs:

You don’t have to say you love me

            a found poem crafted from titles of songs Elvis Presley sang

Apron strings, a pocketful of rainbows,

the grass won’t pay no mind.  Baby, let’s play

house. A boy like me, a girl like you, even the bullfighter

was a lady.  How would you like to be rubberneckin’

in blue Hawaii while little sister is shopping

around?  There ain’t nothing like a song wearin’

that loved look.  The wonder of you, your blue

suede shoes, it’s impossible to make the world

go away.  I want you, I need you, I love

you, and though it’s a sin, kiss me quick

in the Kentucky rain.  I’ve never been

to Spain, I didn’t make it on playing guitar. Write to me

from Naples, surrender until it’s time for you

to go. It’s now or never in this heartbreak hotel,

just let me make believe for a while.  Suspicious

minds, don’t be cruel, even a house that has everything

is a house of sand, and now and then

there’s a fool such as I.  

- 

I'd love to hear your Elvis memories!

Small Talk about Heavy Petting

If you haven't read Gregory Sherl's poetry collection Heavy Petting from YesYes Books, you need to put it on your reading list. Even if you're not a huge fan of poetry. I'm enamored with it. I take baths with it. I sleep with it on my back lawn. I brush my teeth and stare at it longing for my hands to be free so I can read it some more.

When I found out I won this book thanks to the great people at YesYes Books, a friend mentioned that this book was her boyfriend for a good while. Now I know what she meant. And yesterday, I came across the poem "Opening Credits" and my lust level reached a new height. I'd fall in love with the man who wrote me a poem with lines such as these:

I'm glue residue 

on your fingers. I'm hair and you're a Bon Jovi cover band.

Let me stay in the morning and I'll read you the backs of cereal boxes.

This book is a wild ride through obsessive-compulsive disorder about the little things in life that thrill us like cereal, Crystal Light, cookies, TV, nostalgia for our youth, and the larger things in life like love, sex, and fear. It's an oxymoron that keeps you coming back for more.

Some links for you:

Three poems from Heavy Petting

"Sestina for Your Dead Heart" (text and audio) - from Heavy Petting

Interview with Gregory Sherl at Monkeybicycle

What have you been reading?

Imaginary Lives

I'm working through The Artist's Way a little more slowly than I would like thanks to a hectic work schedule and the travel that comes along with it. After being gone from home for a little over two weeks, it was nice to sit down for my morning pages and ponder this question: "If you had five other lives to lead, what would you do in each of them?"

My answers:

1. Travel writer
2. Novelist/Poet
3. A mom
4. A singer/songwriter with a devoted little following but not enough of one to make me "famous"
5. An anchor alongside Diane Sawyer

What five other lives do you imagine yourself living?

I'll conclude with the lovely little poem Dreams by Langston Hughes.

Why We Read

"We read to find ourselves, more fully and more strangely than otherwise we could hope to find." 

- Harold Bloom

What are you reading right now that you're finding yourself in?

Poetry Pairing: Let's Go For a Swim

Ploughshares' Spring 2012 issue is a stunner. From Jamie Quatro's story "Sinkhole" to Andrew Meredith's nonfiction "The Removers" and I can't leave out Mary Jo Bang's poem "Practice for Being Empty," this whole issue is a fire giving life to a tired campsite.

Lauren Groff's essay "Swimming: A Plan B Essay" is a brilliantly written piece comparing the process and passion of a swimmer with that of a writer. Groff writes, "Full immersion, of course, is the highest level of anything." If this essay doesn't inspire one to write, I don't know what else can. I hope you are as moved by it as I am. This one's going on my office bulletin board.

Bob Hicock's poem "Learning to Swim" came to mind when reading Groff's essay. Learning to swim is finding one's salvation, no matter how you look at it.

Is there anything else you'd pair either of these pieces with? What do you think is the most compelling part of Groff's essay?

The Shadow Artist Emerges

Conclusion of A Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver

I've been a "shadow artist" too long. It wasn't until I began reading The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron last week that I discovered the name for it:

"Artists themselves but ignorant of their true identity, shadow artists are to be found shadowing declared artists." 

"Creativity is play, but for shadow artists, learning to allow themselves to play is hard work."

The good news is, I've been working on emerging from the shadows, but I'm not out yet. I still have some work to do. It's one day at a time. Here are some lines from this inspiring book that are helping me to move along in the direction I know I want to go:

"Progress, not perfection, is what we should be asking of ourselves."

"Lighting illuminates." 

Art is faith. I'm a believer.

-

What is art to you? How have you emerged from the shadows?

P.S. Did you know Poetry's July/August issue is online for free right now? Yes, it is! Go read it! I especially like Tony Hoagland's poem "There Is No Word."

Seredipity at The Bookstore

Remember that little bookstore, The Bookstore, I walked to in the rain while I was in Lenox? Well, I didn't tell you what happened there, did I?

A little bit of serendipity. A little bit of the world telling me I was right where I needed to be, that I wasn't a fool for attending a writing workshop after all. I think Jack was smiling at me that day. Why, you ask?

While browsing through the poetry section in this bookstore, I noticed a small cardboard box in a chair, to the left of the bookshelf. There were dozens of old Poetry issues inside. The sign on the box read, "Old Poetry Issues. $2.50 each. Take a few."

I don't know why I did, but I reached right into the middle of the stack and pulled out this issue:

Poetry, December 1971 issue, $1.25

Then, I opened the issue up to the Table of Contents only to find Jack Myers listed inside. What a treat! I took the issue straight to the counter to buy it. My walk back to Brook Farm Inn was a nostalgic one, as I thought of certain lectures and meetings with Jack about poetry and life in general.

A great lineup, don't you think?

Once back to my room, I poured a glass of wine and fell into a chair with my new prize. I read Jack's poems over and over again, then turned to the Contributor's Notes where I read:

"Jack Myers published his first collection of poems, Black Sun Abraxas, last year with Halcyone Press." There was an asterisk by his name indicating that this was his first appearance in Poetry. 

At the time of this publication, that meant he was only 30 years old. Incredible. 

Even in the afterlife, Jack has his way of pushing me along in my writing. I only wish I could thank him for all he did then, and all he continues to do now.

I hope you read his poems from this issue. (A personal favorite of mine is "We Never Talk.")

-

I'd love to hear about a particular serendipitous moment in your life or a moment where everything you've been working toward has been affirmed.

Verse that is Free

Montmartre by John Althouse Cohen via Flickr

While reading A Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver, the following lines from the chapter "Verse that is Free" about the evolution of free verse poetry really struck me:

"Now a line was needed that would sound and feel not like formal speech but like conversation. What was needed was a line which, when read, would feel as spontaneous, as true to the moment, as talk in the street, or talk between friends in one's own house."

Oliver concludes this section by saying, "The poem was no longer a lecture, it was time spent with a friend."

I then picked up the new issue of American Poet and read "Night Madness Poem" by Sandra Cisneros:

There's a poem in my head

like too many cups of coffee.

A pea under twenty eiderdowns.

A sadness in my heart like stone.

I'm good at making friends, and they're good at finding me. Time with a good poem is a treasure.

What do you think about free verse? Do you agree or disagree with Oliver?

Glimpses of The Berkshires

There were so many incredible moments on my trip to Lenox, MA for James Arthur's writing workshop. Here are a few:

Drove from Albany, NY to Lenox, MA listening to the new Norah Jones album "Little Broken Hearts"

I had to pull over to capture this photo

Olivia's Outlook - Had a semi-picnic here!

Brook Farm Inn - They have a poem of the day posted every morning and the met delicious scones I've ever tasted!

On the walk to Steepletop

Steepletop - Edna St. Vincent Millay's home - wish I could've taken a photo of her library!

The lovely group of people I shared my trip and lots of poetry with

I walked to this bookstore in the rain one day. The blisters on my feet were worth it! 

A view from The Mount - Edith Wharton's estate

About to start our tour of this divine home

I'd like to have a view like this!

The library - so much light it was hard to get a good shot!

What a sight to end the day!

Poetry Pairing: Travel

I'll be visiting Steepletop, Edna St. Vincent Millay's home, soon, and thought a pairing with her poem "Travel" would be appropriate for this week.

"Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take
No matter where it's going."

Where is your train taking you? Mine is on it's way here:

View of the Berkshires by jbcurio via Flickr

I'll close with a piece by Jonah Lehrer on the "secret tonic of creativity" and "Why we travel."

I'll be on a blog break through June. Wishing everyone happiness wherever your travels take you!

Poetry Pairing: To the Angelbeast and a Song

This week's poetry pairing comes to us from Peter Birckhead (a favorite Tweeter of mine who always brings a fresh perspective on things), who shared the below video of a song by Arthur Russell as a pairing to Eduardo C. Corral's poem "To the Angelbeast."

Thank you, Peter, for this exquisite pairing!

From Corral's poem: "All that glitters isn't music...Am I not your animal?"

Anything else you'd pair with this?

And I know I was only going to do the poetry pairings for National Poetry Month, but I've enjoyed it too much to stop. That being said, if you have a pairing you'd like to feature, please let me know, as I am always open for guest bloggers.

Smile, Andrea

Poetry Pairing: Technology and Conversation

Image via Randy Pertiet - Flickr

I'm fascinated by this article from The New York Times: "The Flight from Conversation" by Sherry Turkle about how technology has affected the ways we communicate with each other and what it means for the future of our relationships. Turkle concludes with, "So I say, look up, look at one another, and let's start the conversation." I've been fortunate to have a few of these face-to-face conversations this week and the power of the spoken word versus text amazes me. I have a greater appreciation for those who are willing to forgo a text conversation for an actual phone call lately too.

A few days after reading this article, I happened upon Anna Moschovakis' poem "ninth: a conversation between Annabot and the Human Machine on the subject of overpowering emotion."

From the poem:

ANNABOT: I cannot feel your hand.

HUMAN MACHINE: I cannot feel your heart.

--

I am going to work on doing more of the above going forward.

Anything else you can think to pair with these?

AND don't forget today's Poem in Your Pocket Day! I've got "Advice from La Llorona" by Deborah A. Miranda in mine. What's in yours?

Poetry Pairing: Annabel Lee

Edgar Allan Poe is the first poet I discovered during my elementary school years. I purchased a small book of his poems from the Scholastic book fair held in the library and fell in love, most especially with "Annabel Lee." Who wouldn't want to be loved "with a love that was more than love"? (Oh, I now feel sorry for all my pre-teen and teen loves!) All these years later, this poem still enchants me.

I recently downloaded Stevie Nicks' new album "In Your Dreams" and after the first song I was hooked. After hearing "Annabel Lee" in the lucky number 7 slot, I fell hard. Perfect voice to sing this haunting tale. Listen for yourself:

I was even more thrilled to come across Yusef Komunyakaa's essay on his first love, this very poem by Edgar Allan Poe. He writes: "At nine years old, I knew next to nothing about this kind of love, although I had been lightly touched by an element of it in the blues that drifted out of the radios in our kitchen and living room. To know this great longing through words made me tremble inside my skin, and I believe it helped me traverse some new territory in my imagination."

What poem or story was your first love?

Poetry Pairing: The Library as Home

It's National Library Week, so what better way to celebrate libraries and National Poetry Month than with another poetry pairing? And like last week, there's an added bonus.

The New York Public Library put together a powerful video starring a few of it's loyal patrons answering the question: "Where Do You Call Home?"

This video made me think of Charles Simic's poem "In the Library." A few lines from it:

Now the sun is shining
Through the tall windows.
The library is a quiet place.
Angels and gods huddled
In dark unopened books.

And for the added bonus, you can read Simic's moving essay for The New York Review of Books: "A Country Without Libraries."

How do you feel about your local library?