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Poetry Fridays: 2010 Festival Poets 
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Post Poetry Fridays: 2010 Festival Poets
The tickets are on sale! I had a wonderful time in 2008 -- very worth my time and effort getting to the festival. I look very forward to going this year. Here is this years line of poets so far:

Taalam Acey
Hadara Bar-Nadav
Amiri Baraka
Marjorie Barnes
Rick Benjamin
Tara Betts
Laura Boss
Jericho Brown
Robert Carnevale
Teresa Carson
Michael Cirelli
Cheryl Clarke
Billy Collins
DéLana R.A. Dameron
Kyle Dargan
Kwame Dawes
Oliver de la Paz
Matthew Dickman
Michael Dickman
Rita Dove
Juba Dowdell
Martín Espada
Santee Frazier
Rigoberto González
Kathleen Graber
Rachel Hadas
Penny Harter
Bob Hicok
Tyehimba Jess
David Keller
Galway Kinnell
Dorianne Laux
Doughtry 'Doc' Long
Laura McCullough
John McDermott
Dunya Mikhail
Judith Michaels
Joseph Millar
Nancy Morejón
Malena Mörling
Aimee Nezhukumatathil
Sharon Olds
Marie Ponsot
Claudia Rankine
Edwin Romond
Kay Ryan
Margo Taft Stever
Mark Strand
Gretna Wilkinson
Jerry Williams


For more information:
http://www.dodgepoetry.org/festival-2010/



Thu Apr 29, 2010 11:35 am
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
I'm not so sure about the command to "dodge poetry" in the web address, though. Isn't that self-defeating? ;)


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Religion is the only force in the world that lets a person have his prejudice or hatred and feel good about it --S C Hitchcock

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Reading is a majority skill but a minority art. --Julian Barnes


Fri Apr 30, 2010 3:15 am
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
oblivion wrote:
I'm not so sure about the command to "dodge poetry" in the web address, though. Isn't that self-defeating? ;)

Gee, I guess I am pretty slow! I sat here for a few minutes trying to figure out what the heck you meant! But I get it, I get it. Wonder if it has occurred to anyone else?! My advise, do not dodge the poetry fest.
:lol:



Fri Apr 30, 2010 5:49 am
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
So many of the poets that will be at this years Dodge Poetry Festival are unknown to me, so, I thought I'd try to post a poem by each of the poets list for 2010. When I went to the Festival website, low and behold, they had the same idea. They post every Friday. I am about 2 Fridays behind. I'll just throw out my oun for now; here is an excerpt from Tara Betts.

TARA BETTS
http://blog.grdodge.org/2010/05/07/poet ... ara-betts/

The Birth, Then Roses

How each red silky slip of slower body must have
brushed against my mother’s face. Heavy sugar
to claim the carriage and birth,
not enough to coat pricks to come.
How the fists and philandering were unexpected.
How much sweeter it felt to hear the name
of her first child, a daughter, pulling away,
out of her, pushing a path into chaos that begins
them both.

My mother needed more than petals. (19)

Here is a whole poem --

Erasure

Every face slowly dropping out of the world
like they never had breath, laughter or tears.
Chunks of history scooped out of the book of life,
burned for kindling, tossed into landfills
buried in chips from obsolete computers.

Too many bodies have been drawn
into centrifugal black holes, never to be seen
before they come clearly into view.

There must be some weathervane willing
to announce a shift in the wind.
There must be a gust of hands willing to turn
the rooster’s iron head away from absence.

History is pulled from my mouth
slow as a string of pearls, one bead at a time.
I stock the shelves with more substance than
porcelain figurines. I am raising my fists,
bareknuckled, tangling with omission.
Or it is an embrace caught again and again
between my fingers.



I think I will do a combination of my own post and copy & paste from the Geraldine R. Dodge weekly poetry blog introducing festival poets. Here is the direct link to the blog:
http://blog.grdodge.org/2010/04/23/poet ... val-poets/



Thu May 06, 2010 7:28 am
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
AMIRI BARAKA

Friday number 1 was a poet by the name of Amiri Baraka. The poem I am posting is long, but I could find a place to break it. I have also posted the link to the blog page on him. It has biographical info and a video of him reading.

SOMEBODY BLEW UP AMERICA
(All thinking people
oppose terrorism
both domestic
& international…
But one should not
be used
To cover the other)

They say its some terrorist, some
barbaric
A Rab, in
Afghanistan
It wasn't our American terrorists
It wasn't the Klan or the Skin heads
Or the them that blows up nigger
Churches, or reincarnates us on Death Row
It wasn't Trent Lott
Or David Duke or Giuliani
Or Schundler, Helms retiring

It wasn't
the gonorrhea in costume
the white sheet diseases
That have murdered black people
Terrorized reason and sanity
Most of humanity, as they pleases

They say (who say? Who do the saying
Who is them paying
Who tell the lies
Who in disguise
Who had the slaves
Who got the bux out the Bucks

Who got fat from plantations
Who genocided Indians
Tried to waste the Black nation

Who live on Wall Street
The first plantation
Who cut your nuts off
Who rape your ma
Who lynched your pa

Who got the tar, who got the feathers
Who had the match, who set the fires
Who killed and hired
Who say they God & still be the Devil

Who the biggest only
Who the most goodest
Who do Jesus resemble

Who created everything
Who the smartest
Who the greatest
Who the richest
Who say you ugly and they the goodlookingest

Who define art
Who define science

Who made the bombs
Who made the guns

Who bought the slaves, who sold them

Who called you them names
Who say Dahmer wasn't insane

Who/ Who / Who/

Who stole Puerto Rico
Who stole the Indies, the Philipines, Manhattan
Australia & The Hebrides
Who forced opium on the Chinese

Who own them buildings
Who got the money
Who think you funny
Who locked you up
Who own the papers

Who owned the slave ship
Who run the army

Who the fake president
Who the ruler
Who the banker

Who/ Who/ Who/

Who own the mine
Who twist your mind
Who got bread
Who need peace
Who you think need war

Who own the oil
Who do no toil
Who own the soil
Who is not a nigger
Who is so great ain't nobody bigger

Who own this city

Who own the air
Who own the water

Who own your crib
Who rob and steal and cheat and murder
and make lies the truth
Who call you uncouth

Who live in the biggest house
Who do the biggest crime
Who go on vacation anytime

Who killed the most niggers
Who killed the most Jews
Who killed the most Italians
Who killed the most Irish
Who killed the most Africans
Who killed the most Japanese
Who killed the most Latinos

Who/Who/Who

Who own the ocean

Who own the airplanes
Who own the malls
Who own television
Who own radio

Who own what ain't even known to be owned
Who own the owners that ain't the real owners

Who own the suburbs
Who suck the cities
Who make the laws

Who made Bush president
Who believe the confederate flag need to be flying
Who talk about democracy and be lying
WHO/ WHO/ WHOWHO/

Who the Beast in Revelations
Who 666
Who decide
Jesus get crucified

Who the Devil on the real side
Who got rich from Armenian genocide

Who the biggest terrorist
Who change the bible
Who killed the most people
Who do the most evil
Who don't worry about survival

Who have the colonies
Who stole the most land
Who rule the world
Who say they good but only do evil
Who the biggest executioner

Who/Who/Who ^^^

Who own the oil
Who want more oil
Who told you what you think that later you find out a lie
Who/ Who/ ???

Who fount Bin Laden, maybe they Satan
Who pay the CIA,
Who knew the bomb was gonna blow
Who know why the terrorists
Learned to fly in Florida, San Diego

Who know why Five Israelis was filming the explosion
And cracking they sides at the notion

Who need fossil fuel when the sun ain't goin' nowhere

Who make the credit cards
Who get the biggest tax cut
Who walked out of the Conference
Against Racism
Who killed Malcolm, Kennedy & his Brother
Who killed Dr King, Who would want such a thing?
Are they linked to the murder of Lincoln?

Who invaded Grenada
Who made money from apartheid
Who keep the Irish a colony
Who overthrow Chile and Nicaragua later

Who killed David Sibeko, Chris Hani,
the same ones who killed Biko, Cabral,
Neruda, Allende, Che Guevara, Sandino,

Who killed Kabila, the ones who wasted Lumumba, Mondlane , Betty Shabazz, Princess Margaret, Ralph Featherstone, Little Bobby

Who locked up Mandela, Dhoruba, Geronimo,
Assata, Mumia,Garvey, Dashiell Hammett, Alphaeus Hutton

Who killed Huey Newton, Fred Hampton,
MedgarEvers, Mikey Smith, Walter Rodney,
Was it the ones who tried to poison Fidel
Who tried to keep the Vietnamese Oppressed

Who put a price on Lenin's head

Who put the Jews in ovens,
and who helped them do it
Who said "America First"
and ok'd the yellow stars
WHO/WHO/ ^^

Who killed Rosa Luxembourg, Liebneckt
Who murdered the Rosenbergs
And all the good people iced,
tortured , assassinated, vanished

Who got rich from Algeria, Libya, Haiti,
Iran, Iraq, Saudi, Kuwait, Lebanon,
Syria, Egypt, Jordan, Palestine,

Who cut off peoples hands in the Congo
Who invented Aids Who put the germs
In the Indians' blankets
Who thought up "The Trail of Tears"

Who blew up the Maine
& started the Spanish American War
Who got Sharon back in Power
Who backed Batista, Hitler, Bilbo,
Chiang kai Chek who WHO W H O/

Who decided Affirmative Action had to go
Reconstruction, The New Deal, The New
Frontier, The Great Society,

Who do Tom Ass Clarence Work for
Who doo doo come out the Colon's mouth
Who know what kind of Skeeza is a Condoleeza
Who pay Connelly to be a wooden negro
Who give Genius Awards to Homo Locus
Subsidere

Who overthrew Nkrumah, Bishop,
Who poison Robeson,
who try to put DuBois in Jail
Who frame Rap Jamil al Amin, Who frame the Rosenbergs, Garvey,
The Scottsboro Boys, The Hollywood Ten


Who set the Reichstag Fire

Who knew the World Trade Center was gonna get bombed
Who told 4000 Israeli workers at the Twin Towers
To stay home that day
Why did Sharon stay away ?
/
Who,Who, Who/
explosion of Owl the newspaper say
the devil face cd be seen Who WHO Who WHO

Who make money from war
Who make dough from fear and lies
Who want the world like it is
Who want the world to be ruled by imperialism and national oppression and terror
violence, and hunger and poverty.

Who is the ruler of Hell?
Who is the most powerful


Who you know ever
Seen God?

But everybody seen
The Devil


Like an Owl exploding
In your life in your brain in your self
Like an Owl who know the devil
All night, all day if you listen, Like an Owl
Exploding in fire. We hear the questions rise
In terrible flame like the whistle of a crazy dog

Like the acid vomit of the fire of Hell
Who and Who and WHO (+) who who ^
Whoooo and Whooooooooooooooooooooo!


AMIRI B 10/01





http://blog.grdodge.org/2010/04/30/poet ... ri-baraka/



Thu May 06, 2010 7:31 am
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
"Like the acid vomit of the fire of Hell "

Powerful and written much like someone vomiting out the anger within.
The first one was rather sad and disturbing. Actually, I think "disturbing" may be the adjective of choice for both poems (which is not necessarily negative).


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Reading is a majority skill but a minority art. --Julian Barnes


Thu May 06, 2010 9:04 am
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
Jericho Brown
http://blog.grdodge.org/2010/05/07/poet ... cho-brown/

Track 4: Reflection
As performed by Diana Ross

I wanted to reflect the sun.

I wore what glitters, smiled,
Left my eyes open, and,

On the ceiling of my mouth,

Balanced a note as long as God allowed,
My head tilted backwards, my arms stretched

Out and up, I kept praying,

If the red sun rising makes a sound,
Let my voice be that sound.

I could hear the sun sing in 1968.

I learned the word assassin
And watched cities burn.

Got another #1 and somebody

Set Detroit on fire. That was power—
White folks looking at me

Directly and going blind

So they wouldn’t have to see
What in the world was burning black. [End Page 71]



Sat May 08, 2010 5:24 am
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
HADARA BAR-NADAV
Hadara Bar-Nadav is the author of A Glass of Milk to Kiss Goodnight, which won the Margie Book Prize, and two forthcoming chapbooks, Show Me Yours (winner of the Midwest Poets Series Award) and The Soft Arcade. She is an assistant professor of English at the University of Missouri-Kansas City. Of Israeli and Czechoslovakian descent, she currently lives in Kansas City, MO with her husband Scott George Beattie, a furniture maker and visual artist.

http://blog.grdodge.org/2010/04/30/fest ... bar-nadav/


A Number of Things

On the 6th day
there was no rest.
6 churches on 6 corners.
A hook to hang Sundays on.
1 + 2 + 3 = 6
1 x 2 x 3 = 6
6: the sexy, first
perfect integer.
A 6th sense never
did me any good,
I’m doomed to make
the same mistakes.
(6 men in 6 nights)
My 6-letter name
crumbles in shame.
All the A’s fall
through the cracks.
6 months later
stuffed with baby fat
my 6th finger renames me
thief, witch, the disavowed.
If I believed in God,
6 would be the number of mankind.
6 million shadows
encircle my mother.
The 6-pointed star
my grandmother wore.
43 Beloit Poetry Journal Fall/Winter 2004/2005
Yellow Star of David:
two equilateral triangles—
6 points/angles/sides collide,
sweat of inseparable lovers.
Only 6 thousand years of humping
to create creation.
If you let me
I will tell you 6 lies.



Sat May 08, 2010 5:27 am
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
Teresa Carson

http://blog.grdodge.org/2010/05/14/poet ... sa-carson/

The History of My Nightmares, 1964-Present

1. Apartment in 111 Belmont

Seven out of nine rooms once used
as bedrooms—one for Mom, for Pop,
the oldest boy, the oldest girl,
and three where kids were doubled up.
Now all but three were empty. Tom claimed
the one with locks. Pop, who stayed
at his girlfriend’s place most weekends,
kept the small room off the kitchen.
One hall, two rooms away from his:
Mom’s bed. I, age ten, slept next to her,
as I’d done since outgrowing my crib.
But there were no more afternoons I cried
when Pop and Mom went in her room and pushed
the dresser against the door to keep me out.



Wed May 19, 2010 7:27 pm
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
Michael Cirelli
http://blog.grdodge.org/category/poetry-fridays/

Michael Cirelli has been a National Poetry Slam individual finalist and the only person to make all three Bay area slam teams in the same year, winning the finals in both San Francisco and Berkeley. A two-time member of both Oakland and Long Beach, Cirelli has performed all over the country, while teaching writing workshops to teenagers up and down the West coast. While in L.A., he was the director of PEN Center West's, Poet In The Classroom program. He is currently an MFA candidate at the New School University and the Director of Urban Word NYC.

michaelcirelli at yahoo dot com





Dearest workshop
I’m sorry if my poem
hit you over the head today.

I was trying to beef it up,
give it more punch and

apparently the ending got
away from me, wiggled

off the line like a feisty rainbow
trout. But it was just humiliating

last week limping through school
with that giant shiner around

my left eye. All week I worked
my abstract, pumped irony, stayed

up late praying to my avant-guardian
angel, burned incense to Ashbury—

and after all that, my sentences are still
flat. It seems I’ve busted my index

finger in a word playground, the loaded pun
shot blanks in my foot, carnal syntax

got the best of me. Porno and play station
has sucked the milk from my days.

But this week, I promise to lock myself
in a stanza and throw away the keyboard

until I stink so damn good you’ll say
I wouldn’t change a thing.

Welcome to my sauna where everyone
speaks peanuts here! This is where

I rub turtle wax all over my verses
until they are more polished than my

grandpa’s Town Car. I want you
to see yourself in them.



Sat May 22, 2010 6:26 pm
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
Andrew Motion

In addition to being a poet, Motion also wrote a bio of Keats.
http://www.faber.co.uk/work/john-keats/9780571172283/


http://blog.grdodge.org/category/poetry-fridays/page/4/

Ice
When friends no longer remembered
the reasons we set forth,
I switched between nanny and tartar
driving us on north.

Will you imagine a human hand
welded by ice to wood?
And skin when they chip it off?
I don’t think you should.

By day the appalling loose beauty
of prowling floes:
lions’ heads, dragons, crucifix-wrecks,
and a thing like a blown rose.

By night the seething hiss
of killers cruising past -
the silence after each fountain-jet,
and our hearts aghast.

Of our journey home and the rest
there is nothing more to say.
I have lived and not yet died.
I have sailed in the Scotia Sea.



Sat May 22, 2010 6:32 pm
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Post Re: Update on 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival
Oliver de la Paz
http://blog.grdodge.org/2010/05/28/poet ... Program%29


Last Days

Auto wax, mousse, and AC/DC made us somebody,

and we ascended Fourth Avenue to Angus Young's

jangled guitar, up the one street that headed out of town.

So much for subtlety. A quiet town needs its monarchs,

and we were crowned. My hair — god almighty —

was glorious, shifting with the speed gusts.

A sea of teenagers from the surrounding towns, Payette,

Nyssa, Parma, Vale, we were punks and we were lovely.

The sheen of the newly washed pickups traveled up the hill,

each with its own pomp, though the circumstances took us nowhere.

We'd stop in the parking lot of the mall,

which was too broke for major retail — it gave in to local merchants,

Mel's, Cosmic Connections, Ye Olde Carmel Candy Shoppe,

half a dozen stores with the shelf-life of milk.

The lot swelled with liquor and cigarette smoke,

and we waited for Johnnie Dominguez, whose love for Lonnie Maeda

could only be cliché, to pull down his suspenders,

leave his hat in the cab, and brawl with Ernesto Mendez. The fight

was our extravagance. We'd preen with our letter-jackets

emblazoned with pins, our stitched chevrons, tassels aplenty.

We knew it was coming because the halls of the high-school

hissed with pressurization. So when Johnnie, close-fisted,

pounded Ernie until his cheek was pitted with gravel

from where he fell, face down, we felt the valves rattle from release.

And we ran after the siren lights broke the cool, laminar orbits of our youth.

We gunned our engines and squealed back down Fourth,

careening on adrenaline and rock and roll. We were inertia, reflex.

We were the dumbest movie, pointless, given to hyperbole.

As we rounded back up the hill, we saw Johnnie

and Lonnie, lips, blouse, hand, thigh, a spasm of desperate love.

Ernie, speechless, leaning against the hood of a squad car.

All the young cruisers' faces like gas flames in the metallic

rebound of their cars. How flared we were, the chrome bumpers

mirroring our confidence, our quintessential delinquency. How allegro.

How clenched. The red and blue spirals were our regalia.

The evening, bruise-black at the edge of the hill.

Oliver de la Paz, from "Requiem for the Orchard" (University of Akron Press, $14.95)



Sun May 30, 2010 3:03 pm
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Post Re: Poetry Fridays: 2010 Festival Poets
"the shelf-life of milk" Wonderful!


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"Freedom is feeling easy in your harness" --Robert Frost


Sun May 30, 2010 3:23 pm
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Post Re: Poetry Fridays: 2010 Festival Poets
GaryG48 wrote:
"the shelf-life of milk" Wonderful!

I agree! Have a look at the next one. I really love this one.



Sat Jun 05, 2010 4:09 pm
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Post Re: Poetry Fridays: 2010 Festival Poets
Matthew Dickman
http://blog.grdodge.org/2010/06/04/2010 ... Program%29

I gota say, this is my favorite festival poet so far, or favorite poem, so far, by a festival poet. I will be sure to check Matthew Dickman out when I go in Octorber.


The Mysterious Human Heart by Matthew Dickman
If I could, I would send this to you, whoever you are:

The Mysterious Human Heart

The produce in New York is really just produce, oranges
and cabbage, celery and beets, pomegranates
with their hundred seeds, carrots and honey,
walnuts and thirteen varieties of apples.
On Monday morning I will walk down
to the market with my heart inside me, mysterious,
something I will never get to hold
in my hands, something I will never understand.
Not like the apricots and potatoes, the albino
asparagus wrapped in damp paper towels, their tips
like the spark of a match, the bunches of daisies, almost more
a weed than a flower, the clementine,
the sausage links and chicken hung
in the window, facing the street where my heart is president
of the Association for Random Desire, a series
of complex yeas and nays,
where I pick up the plantain, the ginger root, the sprig
of cilantro that makes me human, makes me
a citizen with the right to vote, to bear arms, the right
to assemble and fall in love.



Sat Jun 05, 2010 4:11 pm
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