MURANGI & ZOMKHONTO: POETIC TALENT FROM THE MOTHERLAND

Note: Click on photos to expand

One of the greatest joys of my year-long dive into the pool of poetry has been engaging with several talented individuals from Zimbabwe. In this post, I'll introduce you to two of those poets and their work: Tatenda “Sibuco” Murangi and Mbonisi Zikhali Zomkhonto AKA Zomkhonto Gabadela.

Intro to Sibuco

When Tatenda "Sibuco" Murangi isn’t writing poetry, fiction, or essays, playing music, or trying to finish up his PhD program in immunology, he’s using his skill as a graphic artist to serve as the editorial & designing editor of The Sailor’s Review (TSR). By now you probably know that I'm quite taken with the work VaChikepe and the 100 Sailors do in publishing TSR. 

Dr. Shamiso Madzivire

On July 23rd, a book of short stories, Married too Soon: Stories from our daughters by Dr. Shamiso Christine Madzivire, will be launched on Facebook/Meta. Sibuco's short story prowess will be displayed among its pages. 

Frankly, I don’t know how Tatenda manages it all...and at such a high level.

Originally from Norton, 40km/25mi from the Zimbabwean capital of Harare, Sibuco lives and studies in Cape Town, South Africa, where he’ll return after completing his program-related research in Giessen, Germany. In addition to his work with TSR, what initially caught my eye was the following excerpt from Sibuco’s self-description on his Facebook/Meta page: “My gift to the world is being myself.” Not only does he have the courage to be himself, but he has the wisdom to understand that that self is a gift to the world.

I could go on about the reasons I am impressed with Tatenda Murangi, but I’d rather you get to know him through his work. In the short video below, you'll find a small sampling of his music and poetry. Please indulge me in this introduction to the primary piece in the video, A Soldier's Dilemma, which was showcased in June on Poetry in Action- Africa on Reggae Nostalgia Internet Radio (episode: Poetry in Action, 13:22). 

Intro to A Soldier's Dilemma
What of PTSD? We’ve been bombarded and blitzkrieged by images of bodies rended, of buildings and lives blasted into oblivion…the carnage of war.

The nimble, flexible minds of poets have made it simple for them to vault and somersault onto the mobile bandwagon despite its nature as moving target.

But there are others…others who eschew the imagery of destruction, who take a path untraveled by the bandwagon and its passengers.

Sibuco is one such other, one who stands atop a hillock with sweeping gaze eyeing not the carnage on the field, but the bloody tatters of the souls and psyches of those who wreaked the carnage.

Sibuco’s A Soldier’s Dilemma takes a more reflective path than the bandwagon and its jumpers. Though mentioned, the stench of blood only hints at the stink of guilt and the residue residing in the reservoirs of hearts and minds...their bloody secrets the seeds of trauma trees.

Intro to Mbonisi

I’m going to allow Mbonisi Zikhali Zomkhonto’s own words to do most of the speaking for him here, but before I do that, I want to acknowledge the reason for this introduction. If you’ve had the good fortune to hear him deliver his poetic arias on Zoom or in person, you will understand when I say that Zomkhonto Gabadela carries a light that is hard to dim.

That light is in his work, in his sharing of that work, and in the megawatt smile that transforms his face and any space he inhabits. Given Mbonisi's background, it is no surprise that when it's his turn to speak, he delivers. Here he is in his own words:

“My name is Mbonisi Zikhali and Zomkhonto is my totem, which sets the tone for a series of my ancestral praise names that follow. I come from a region with a long history of writing the achievements of each successive generation of a clan. These praise names are an unending poem, such that every new birth is an opportunity to add to the totems, with the goal of preserving the memory of their journey through their collective lifetimes.

I was born in Makokoba, the oldest township in Bulawayo, the second largest city in Zimbabwe, Africa. I currently reside in Windsor, Canada. I am a spoken word artist, storyteller, youth mentor, community services worker and mental wellness advocate. I won my first poetry award when I was eight years old, for a poem called "Mr. Bad Ears". That initial excitement turned over the decades into the man I am today. I consider myself an afro-empath and am driven to ensure that people find joy in the power of words and storytelling.

I am a member of Artcite Windsor’s Community Connector and Free Verse Poets, which both seek to incorporate poetry and drumming as a way to re-engage the community in artistic ways, while providing a safe space to share stories and support each other emotionally. My most recent engagement with Artcite Windsor was as a featured artist in 2021’s “Emancipate the Landscape,” a month-long exhibition featuring digital artists Kiki Symone and Talysha Bujold-Abu, which ran from August-September. It was a collaborative journey to celebrate the brilliant resilience and inherent elegance of everyday Blackness."

Like Sibuco, Mbonisi dabbles musically as well, playing djembe and Marimba. However, he acknowledges that he is no “musician” with the djembe, only playing that instrument for fun. But he also says, “My instrument is marimba.” Sadly (a special for adverb haters 😉), I couldn’t get a recording of his playing for you, but I do have Mbonisi reciting one of his poems in the video below.

Intro to We Thought We Were Not Enough

Mbonisi's We Thought We Were Not Enough masquerades as a tale of disenfranchised, youthful dancers. But it is a parable that two-steps and dos y dos its meaning well beyond the dancefloor. A storyteller born and true, with lyrical sense and performance penchant, Zomkhonto choreographs his play with a zeal that does not belie his philosopher’s sight.

What happens when youthful talent and unfortunate circumstance vie for center stage? What price to pay for a chance to play your part in the distant dance of fame? Do you believe the sayers of nay or mine your depths for belief in self? The questions quiver beneath dancers’ feet, lean against dancehall walls, but there they are...nonetheless…in shadow.

TUREK'S 24 IN 24 & IMAGISTICS: RESPONSE AND CELEBRATION

NOTE: Click on photos to enlarge  

Ok, so I hope you haven’t yet had enough of me singing J R Turek’s praises, because I’ve got another song for you. And I hope you will join me and the SpoFest crew tomorrow as we celebrate J R’s SpoFest Guest Author appearance and birthday- albeit a few hours early.

Anyway, can you imagine writing poetry for 24 hours without sleep? I can’t really, but J R Turek doesn’t have to imagine. She’s done it three times! By the way, if you have problems with exclamation marks/points, you should probably stop here…and/or check out my position on them here.

I hear the fruit of J R’s most recent 24-in-24 (24 poems in 24 hours) will be gracing bookshelves soon, but what I’ve got for you today are my responses to the collection from her first 24-in-24 effort and to Imagistics: A Collection ofForm and Formed Poetry (2015). The 24-in-24 book is creatively titled, 24 in 24: a poetry marathon collection (2021). She must be a poet! No, I wasn’t stung in the face. That’s my tongue.😏

I’ll leave it to “real” reviewers to “review” J R’s books. Me? I’ll just respond, so don’t expect the typical please. You’ll be disappointed. Despite not wanting another hardcopy book for which I would need to find a safe place to collect dust, I was rather joyous as I walked out of the post office with three more of J R Turek books!

I had finished two already: Midnight on The Eve of Never: poems on the ledge (2019) and A is for Almost Anything: an assortment of poetry (2016). Both have numerous dogeared pages- my method of designating poems I thoroughly enjoyed. And now I had three more collections to peruse- the two I’ll be responding to here, and the third, B is for Betwixt and Between: anassortment of poetry (2018).

If they were audiobooks, I would have had all three finished by now. As it is, I have only made it through one and two-thirds. Given the no sleep in 24 hours thing, I wasn’t sure what to expect when opening 24 in 24. I confess that I was expecting at least a pleasant read, and at most, more wows and putting the book down to pace and ponder with a huge smile on my face. That had been my experience with Midnight and A.😊

Well, it only took until the third hour (each piece has its hour of birth noted) to notch my first dog ear.  After absorbing the first 15 hours of writing, I had dogeared a mere four poems. Wassup J R? You slippin’? A bit tired? Ha! She was sandbagging. I dogeared five of the final nine. The woman apparently got stronger the less sleep she got. I got to the end shaking my head in amazement.

I’ll just share a couple of my favorite pieces, one from the first 12 hours and another from the second. The first, Sutures from hour 8, is a melancholy ode to the healing power of poetry…is anyone more fit to write an ode to poetry than Judy? The second, Forgive Me Muse from hour 21, made me chuckle. It wasn’t easy choosing just two, but I figured a little contrast might be good enough to give you the flavor.

So, 24 in 24 was short, sweet, easy-peasy, and just left me wondering about the tentative correlation between sleep deprivation and creative writing. I need a larger sample size to draw any semblance of a conclusion about that correlation though.

Imagistics was/is an entirely different story. I peeled open the covers of the book with a bad attitude. Coming clean, I wasn’t expecting to care for it much. In my mind, it was going to be all about the visuals, and I’m more partial to meaning than visuals. Ha! Good thing I don’t mind being wrong.

Not only was I surprised that the visuals were enjoyable, but there was more than enough meaning to satisfy my thirsty mind. In most cases, the combination of image and word made the piece for me. I kept tripping over pieces in wordy wonder, admiring not just the word images but the content!

For example, J R gave us the finger- not that one- in Town Meeting which was cool all on its own, but the poem went on to address something silly…like civility among human beings. Seriously Judy? I guess poetry can be a form of fiction…and you don’t have to stand in line to get poetic license. I couldn’t believe how many pieces made me smile and wish I was as creative.

I finished Design, and exclaimed, “How cool is that!” Granted, it was probably a relatively quiet exclamation, but it felt loud. And I sure had a good time with the music of Rhap-city Blues (click link for audiovisual rendition). Yep, there are many pieces to delight both eye and mind, and I have no qualms about suggesting you pick this book up for your unadulterated enjoyment.   

It's going to take me a while to sit with and finish Betwixt and Between, but you’re probably oversaturated with Turek talk by now anyhow. I can't wait to get to darrell parry's Twists: Gathered Ephemera and Christopher Bogart's This Conversation. Both promise to be moving...though in significantly different ways. There I go with those expectations again 🤔.

WHEN POETS INSPIRE: Yet Another Rant

Recently I heard a Julian Matthews read his piece Exclamation on the Cobalt Poets featured reader/open mic event (2:05:30 or so of this video). As I typically find with Julian’s work, this piece is multifaceted, leaping among a variety of dimensions, knocking at the door of notions that may seem contradictory…on the surface.

But “surface” is not Julian’s style as far as I can tell, and neither is it mine. I suspect that’s why his work speaks to me with such murky clarity. Exclamation takes me on a journey beginning with Julian’s early years as a journalist and winds its way along one of his storied paths to his current iteration as a human being.

In it, Julian tells us of his editor censuring his use of exclamation points/marks and his subsequent refusal to include them in his work as a journalist. The piece, then, brings us to Julian’s use of exclamation points in his poetry and fiction. At this point in the piece, it appears that poor little exclamation marks are finally being given their due, being reclaimed from the land of the banished.

Oh, heads up: This really isn’t an “analysis” of Julian’s piece, merely offering some context for what I’m about to express. 

That said, if you haven’t heard or read Exclamation, it is a treat. I’m listening/reading as I write and DAYAM! What a mind! What craft! Beats the hell outta Minecraft in my book! Did you notice the 4, I repeat 4 exclamation points in that last bit?

At one point, Julian’s poem suggests that “the words alone are enough. No exclaiming needed.” Yet the piece also intimates that “being” the exclamation mark might just be the ticket. Just one of the many “points” to examine in Julian’s remarkable expression.

It could have ended there for me…with just some pondering of the nuanced messaging, but in two email interactions I was party to, another poet/editor suggested removing the word “very” from “very special” in a flyer. It was the second time I had seen that recommendation from this person. It is a recommendation consistent with today’s accepted, muted manner of expressing. MS Word will question your usage of terms like “really” in a similar context.

All of the above is mere preamble to protest. I hereby officially protest all attempts to mute my voice in all cases where my intent is to express without harmful intent. In other words, just about always.

The words “very,” “really,” “truly,” etc. are intended to convey something to the reader/listener, just as exclamation points/marks are. If we are speaking and I am excited you will be able to hear it in my voice, witness it in my expressions, feel it emanating from me energetically.

Why should that be different in writing? I have neither need nor desire to hide my emotion from you. Of course, in a culture that appears to cherish deception, there should be no surprise that authentic expression and interaction beyond flatline are of questionable value. 

I suspect that the prevailing social tendency to frown upon the expression of emotion (unless it’s to gush about how wonderful someone or something is), to promote the suppression of self contributes significantly to the dis-ease prevalent in human societies.

So, even if editors of publications and/or every other living being on the planet pans the use of exclamation marks/points, I retain the right to use them at my discretion when they “FEEL” appropriate! That, my friends, is an emphatic statement worthy of an exclamation mark, caps, etc. I want you to know how strongly I feel, and no, the mere words won’t cut it.

Ahhh, there’s my rant for the day…Thanks for hanging in there until the end and I always welcome opposing views 😉. Thanks Julian, cher for the inspiration. 🙏

PE: DRAINS & BORN IN DISGUISE by SHAWNA JOHNSON- A PARENT SHARES TRANS EXPERIENCE

The New York Times posted an article today with the following headline: In Pakistan, a Leader in Trans Rights, Reality Is Slower to Change Than Law. It reminded me that I hadn’t posted two poems that I think are important expressions from a parent of a Trans child.

I've had to acknowledge that form and style are often more important than the messages available in poetic expressions. Initial feelers about getting these two pieces published hinted at that reality. Since messages and meaning are more significant than form or style to me, it makes sense to share these pieces here. The following two pieces were written by Shawna Johnson and offer a perspective I hadn’t been exposed to previously.

In reverse chronological order (and in case you were wondering, yes there is significance to the colors I've chosen to present the pieces):

Drains

I remember a time when you were my daughter.

I looked at your downy head, fastened to me -
A tender ache, a relentless tug.
And I wondered if you, too, would one day gaze down -
look down at a tiny head,
Feel an insatiable, rosebud mouth
drain you dry.

Instead, twenty-one years later, I stand beside you
and
you are my son.

We both gaze into the crimson depths
Of the hotel toilet bowl.
I have emptied your drains for the first time
Since the surgeon made his football-shaped incisions
And discarded the offending, unloved tissue.

Hard to believe
that was only this morning.

You say, “I need to sit down, Mom.”
I do, too.
“Yes,” I say, “We’re drained.”
You smile.

I sit down beside you and hold your hand.

~ Shawna Johnson


Born in Disguise

I have two sons. One was born in disguise.

In November, 2000 you came to me in a dream
A little blond boy in green overalls.
Four months later I carefully set out
blue hand-me-down sleepers,
shirts and tiny pants.
I tucked a sweet blue newborn outfit
Into a brand new diaper bag.

On the operating table
paralyzed from muscle relaxant
Dazed with pain
I hear my mother’s voice: “It’s a girl!”

“Are you sure?”

Okay then! A girl. That’s wonderful!
We call you “Violet”.

First time changing your diaper
A jolt of electricity from the top of my head to my womb.
Something’s wrong.
“This is wrong. I’m sorry,” I whisper to you.
But what am I even talking about?
You are perfect!
I remind myself that it is me who is not quite ‘right’ at the moment.
I am exhausted
Brain signals scrambled from pain killers and hormones.
I’m hallucinating at times;
Probably can’t be trusted.

At two years old I glance over and see you in a pair of green overalls,
Duck-down blond hair beginning to come in.
“Aha!” I say to myself. “So, that was it.”

Several years pass.
You are such a funny little thing!
You dress like a bohemian
You know your own mind.

At eight years old a well-meaning woman in McDonalds
Calls you a good ‘big brother’.
I look over at you in your chosen outfit of jeans and a blue coat,
Short hair combed straight down on your forehead.
I am mortified on your behalf
Quickly explain that you are a girl.

You don’t talk to me all the way home.
I don’t know why.

At twelve you are so pretty.
You favor peasant blouses and leggings.
Male eyes, young and old, follow you.
We are having a meal out and you say,
“I think I might be bi.”

“Okay,” I say.

“She’s buying what?” asks your brother, shoveling in fries.

At age fourteen you get up at 5:00AM each morning
Curl your hair into ringlets.
Cute little dresses and off the shoulder shirts.
You lose twenty pounds
Your shoulder blades look like wings.
They are covered in bloody scratches.
Your thighs laddered with cuts.
You spend most of your time in your room.

That summer you cut your hair.
We go to New Orleans
You fall in love with the art; the culture.
You give away your dresses.
You bloom like a flower.

The boys at school aren’t impressed with the change.
Where are the dresses
The long legs in tennis skirts
The wavy hair?
“What are you trying to do - look like a boy?”

“Maybe,” you say.

At sixteen years old you tell us your new name.
And so “Lee” you become …
At school, at home, at art camp.

Now at seventeen, you don’t fit a mold.
In your transforming body there is
a comfort
a light
a new kind of being.

Though I didn’t know much, I did know this
As I looked at your newborn face:
This is a person
Independent of mother and father.

I can only hope to be a good guide in this life.

~ Shawna Johnson

LYNN ALEXANDER'S BOOK LAUNCH LAUNCHED ME: FIND ME IN THE IRIS ASCENDS

NOTE: Click on photos to enlarge & videos at end

You’d think I’d learn something from reading and listening to poets more than any other beings these days. But my vocabulary and I keep coming up short in efforts to describe the most moving of experiences I’m having at some of these Zoom poetry venues.

I’m sick of “Wow!” “Powerful!” “Poignant!” “Inspirational!” and a host of others I’ve assaulted like that late, proverbial horse. So, I’m asking you to substitute whatever would stand for all the above- and more- when imagining what I experienced at E. Lynn Alexander’s book launch of FIND ME IN THE IRIS last night.

Paul Corman-Roberts

I’ll save you the backstory, but it was touch and go whether I’d make it, and whether I’d be able to stay. Well, I’m glad that the poetry gods deigned to decree my attendance…AND ordered my chills and goosebumps to accompany me. Actually, the latter should be credited to the poets, Paul Corman-Roberts and Jack Varnell who co-hosted the event.

I’m still discovering my potential paths through the poetry landscape, but one thing I’m clear about is that I can’t possibly comment at length about every poet and piece of work I experience. However, I will do what I can to express what I think and feel about those who move me in significant ways.

E. Lynn Alexander

Last night, the works that moved me slipped through the lips of Taneesh Kaur, Cleveland Wall, and E. Lynn Alexander. I had had the good fortune of hearing Lynn read from FIND ME IN THE IRIS during her interview with Rick Christiansen in preparation for her guest author appearance on SpoFest’s May 17 edition of Poetry and Prose. To my mild surprise and quite spicy delight, Lynn’s second reading of The Urgent Traverse- an epic poem to me- penetrated more deeply than the first. I’ve provided just a taste in the video below.

Cleveland Wall

I first shook hands with Cleveland Wall’s work during the same SpoFest event and it’s a good thing I don’t live in PA, or I might be hiding behind the stacks ogling…her writing technique, you, you….never mind. Anyway, wouldn’t ya know, Cleveland’s reading last night also had more of an impact than the first time around. Maybe it was the moon? Anyway, her reading sent me clicking on YouTube where I found a mini treasure trove of Cleveland Wall poems. Speaking of the moon, below is an excerpt from Cleveland’s set last night entitled Old Moon Goes Up.

Taneesh Kaur

My introduction to Taneesh Kaur sent me looking for more of her work as well. I did find some on YouTube as well as on her website. I’m pretty sure I haven’t been bathed in light by such dark expressions before. I suspect it was the combination of Taneesh’s language alchemy and her soothing voice that pulled the bright wool over my usually dark ears. You can sample Taneesh's poetic voice below as well. 

As always, I don’t ever expect or ask you to take my word for it. After all, my word is merely an expression of my experience…which isn’t and can’t be yours. So, you can click here to view the entire event and draw your own conclusions. I will say that I was sufficiently taken with the entire Collapse crew (especially since Darrell Parry is a part of it) to delightedly accept the invitation to feature on Collapse Fridays on July 29. I’ll post more details on that as soon as I have them.

J R TUREK, THE PURPLE POET'S PUBLISHING WORDS OF WISDOM

J R at Bellmore Bean Cafe in 2019

Most of us have heard the adage, “Give them an inch and they’ll take a yard,” or something to that effect, right? Well, I haven’t had occasion to think the following way before, but in reflecting on a recent interaction with Judy J R Turek, I thought, “Ask Judy for an inch and she’ll give you a mile!”

If you’ve paid any attention whatsoever to things I’ve written or said lately, you must know that J R Turek, the Purple Poet, is one of my poetry "sheros." And it’s not just because her work (which I’ve consumed much of) moves me. It’s in great part because Judy the person moves me.

J R doesn’t need much introduction from me…or anyone else for that matter at this point. Her more than 18 years of writing poetry daily, and having her poetry published in just about every publication imaginable, including her several collections far precedes my entry into this poetry space.

J R during Christiansen interview

Yet, Judy or her work might have sneaked by you, so I’ll point you to her SpoFest interview with Rick Christiansen if you’d like to drown in her accolades…or just get to know her a little better. And even if you’ve become familiar with Judy through her many in-person and online appearances, and/or publications, you’ll enjoy this must-see, throwback video!

Is plugging one of my favorite venues and poets shameful?

Maybe to some, but I feel it my duty. Every two weeks you can partake of J R’s “Words of Wisdom” on SpoFest Poetry and Prose, but despite their frequency, THESE words of wisdom are one-of-a-kind priceless! And speaking of SpoFest and priceless, J R will be SpoFest’s guest author on Tuesday, July 5, 2022, 6pm CDT (register to join via Zoom here). There! Got my plug in.

Now for the real purpose of this post. Although I have no publishing desires of my own, I believe that many out there do. The following is dedicated to those folks who have thoughts of publishing their work but have little clue about how to make that happen.

So, you have a bunch of poems that you want to share with the world but have no idea how to go about doing so, right? Have no fear, the Purple Poet, Judy J R Turek, is here.

I’d been thinking about having the pieces I wrote during the Stroll of Poets 30/30 Challenge bound. I thought I might offer it as a gift to the few people who might be interested in taking a peek. I looked into it and didn’t find anything that I could settle on.

So, the other day I asked Judy for her thoughts on the matter—the above-mentioned inch, and what I received in return is what follows—the above-mentioned mile. With minor modifications for presentation, here is J R’s “How To” for publishing your first manuscript:

The How:

• Put your poems together in a document file, title it My Book unless you have a title, then use it. This will make it feel real and will help to determine cost, et al. 
• Set your document up with page size 6” x 9” with 1” margins all around.  If it asks ‘this page only’ or ‘entire doc’ be sure to click entire doc. Some people miss this part.
• Title page first. Just one is sufficient; the ‘old-school’ two pager is out of date. Copyright info on the next page. If you have cover art that requires credit, put it here.
• If you have a dedication, the next page is a nice place to put it. If you have “thank yous” they can share the page with the dedication.
• If you have poems that have been published elsewhere, Acknowledgments (which are different than the acknowledgment to my jade plant, who listens and loves everything I write) should be next. Just be sure to distinguish between “thank you” acknowledgements and “publication” acknowledgments. It is honorable to give credit to the publication. 
• The poem title goes in quotes- comma inside quotes, the publication name goes in italics, publisher, issue, volume number, year. Include enough to be specific about that book/anthology/e-zine/journal, etc.  Some people skip this inclusion. Your choice. 
• The next page starts your Table of Contents. I like starting with the first poem and going forward from there, as opposed to including Foreword/Dedication/Preface/Intro, whatever. And yes, you can have any or all of those but if they come before the table of content, you don’t need to include them in your Table of contents... 
• I suggest, as I do with all my writing clients, you start working on your bio now. It will be harder than you think, probably harder than writing the poems or assembling the book. Start it. Now!
• I also like having the bio as the last thing the reader gets when they read your book. Poems, yes, nice but it’s about you– you want them to remember you as the last word. Think “next book…”
• Ok, now start dropping poems in. You can actually do this before all the above just to get started. A first book is just that– first, and you’ll never have another first, so do it proud. Put them in. Worry about moving them around later. Click “Save” often.
• Ok, when you are moderately satisfied that it is a super book and all the stuff above is in, note your page count.
• Self-publishing is not the taboo it used to be. It allows you to publish your book your way. You pay, you sell, you collect. POD is print on demand, which allows you to have one copy or 13 or 157 – whatever like. Save trees.

The Where:

• Xlibris.com
• authorHouse.com 
• lulu.com
• BookBaby.com

These sites change their stripes often; they are sales managed, so if you sign up to get emails, they will hound you.

The Publishing Process:

• Look for the price tab
• Create your book
• Input the total pages- the size 6 x 9 is the most common and affordable size 
• Choose Paper- white or parchment
• Choose color & cover- your design or theirs
• How many copies… blah blah blah.

$$$$$$$ Paying For it:

• Get to the pertinent questions that will determine how much your book will cost. Check for the shipping charges. Some sites will include it… and it is always a surprise, even more so now with the fuel prices.
• Ok, so now add a few pages, delete a few pages and see how the price fluctuates. You may want to make it a bit longer; the increase per page is minimal.
• If you think you might want to include color slides, give it a click. It is expensive! But weigh out all the options and see what works for you.

NOTE: If you google ‘publishers,’ you will get a lot of scammers. Just be careful.

Important Miscellaneous:  

• You can try traditional publishers… just be patient as their turnaround time is generally long.
• If you want a hardcopy reference on hand, try Writer’s Digest Poets Market; they put out a new one every year. Libraries generally have them to borrow. Lots and lots and lots of info inside. Available to buy as well, not cheap. Learn the key; it’s worth the time to know what all the symbols mean as you peruse. 
• If/when you’re investigating traditional publishers, always check the websites for updates on editors or policies – no simultaneous submissions; no submissions without an agent; reading period submissions only; only Canadians; query first. The Writer’s Digest is printed 6 months in advance, so info is always old.

Ok, I guess I covered everything… except the questions you have or will have. If you do have questions, you can reach out to me at msjevus@optonline.net.

J R accepting 24/24 certificate 

Well, there you have it! Words of publishing wisdom from the Purple Poet, who, by the way, recently finished her 3rd 24-hour poetry marathon where she wrote at least 24 poems in 24 straight hours of writing! And while co-hosting an awards ceremony with no sleep, she was awarded a first-place cash prize herself! Her description of the experience? “What a blessing of a poetry day! Is there anything else to say?

I’m still working on responses to a few of J R Turek’s books, but if you’d like to experience your own response, you can pick up copies of her books here.

A SLIVER OF OUR POETRY WEEKEND

I don’t know if I’ll have it in me to attend anything this weekend, but dang the venue hosts are making it tough! 

Today (Friday) Linda Trott Dickman and the NorthportArts Coalition are serving up JulianMatthews on a silver platter for you. Actually, that platter has to be platinum! Now, this ain’t no finger food we’re talking about here, this is some stick-to-your-bones-and-you-don’t-even-need-dessert kinda offering. If carrots and celery with some dip is your preference, you might want to just come for open mic, because Julian combines an uncommon mind with innovative word weaving to deliver a rich multicourse experience. If you don’t believe me, check this out.

If you aren’t totally wrung out or couldn’t make the above, E. Lynn Alexander and Collapse Press are presenting the virtual book launch of Lynn’s FIND ME IN THE IRIS tonight as well. I was fortunate enough to stumble across Lynn’s and Cleveland Wall’s wordsmithing at a recent SpoFest event and four other word artists (Karen Lillis, K.R. Morrison, Chansonette Buck, and Taneesh Kaur) will be sharing the mic. Sounds promising to me!  

If you didn’t get enough richness with Julian and the Collapse crew, Poetry Streeton the Road  is going international tomorrow with Zimbabwe’s Takudzwa “VaChikepethe Poet” Chikepe and Trinidad & Tobago’s Marsha M. Nelson. Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of homegrown cheeba for you with ChipWilliford, Maggie Bloomfield and the open mic participants who usually scorch Poetry Street’s asphalt. If you haven’t strolled down this broad thoroughfare yet, you might want to take a detour from your usual travels. Your voice to share and your ears to absorb poetic fare is the only toll. And if you’d like a sample platter of that poetic fare, there are videos of past events for you to nibble on if you scroll down on the homepage.

And on Sunday (12pm PDT) CultivatingVoices Live with hosts SandyYannone, Kim Ports Parsons, and Don Krieger are presenting their 3^rd Annual Pride Poetry Parade with a plethora of featured poets along with open mic.

There’s plenty coming up next week as well, but I wanna get this posted.