The Potomac, The Pitiable State of our Bookstores and Peter Yarrow

     Okay, I admit I am sitting her in the Starbucks at Sumner Place taking advantage of the wi-fi as well as the banana bread, waiting for Eliza to finish with paddling practice and weight training. Liam is sitting opposite me finishing off a pumpkin cream cheese muffin, reading The Catcher in the Rye. 
     The light along the river was beautiful earlier, a little bit of sun on the trees, the water catching the light, calm, quiet. The banks along the canal and the trees are still green with the exception of small patches of red leaves and white and purple asters. My husband, David, and I found four white puffballs on the forest floor the size of volleyballs! A far more positive experience than the one I had on Monday afternoon when Eliza and I went shopping for fall clothes, yes, at Target and Old Navy. Don't get me wrong. Eliza and I had fun. She is delightful to shop with. But to "balance" things out, I felt compelled to go into Barnes and Noble (Yikes! Another large chain!) to browse. Not a good idea! I nearly had a heart attack when I walked into the store and found the whole front taken over by Nook and Nook accessories! No words, no books. I felt lost and more than a little sick. The poor Nook sales clerk, asking if he could help, took the full brunt of my woe. I think I just bewildered him. "Where are the books?" I asked. Little did he know the poet laureate of Alexandria was about to have a hissy fit right in front of him. He gestured vaguely to some distant corner of the store as if books were a bother and entirely irrelevant to one of the largest bookselling chains in the country, which apparently they are. "Oh, you mean those dusty things with pages?" he might have said. He didn't know, however, that I'm not actually opposed to the Nook or the Kindle. I find them rather clever and appealing for a number of reasons, but I still want a place where I can go and pick up a book and browse. I want to see what commuters are reading on the Metro; I will miss reading the thick spines of the tomes they lug religiously with them and sink into on their paths to and from work. I can see why they might want to tote something as light as a Nook, but I increasingly feel like I am missing out, like I'm no longer a  part of the larger community dynamic, invited or not...Which brings me to my last topic. I want to invite you to tell the people around you about a wonderful benefit concert taking place this Sunday, October 24th from 2:30-4:00 at the Australian Embassy.  You will be among real people listening to live music and helping out an important cause. I invite you to go to this website: www.Hydroassoc.org and purchase a ticket or tickets to see Peter Yarrow perform for the benefit of the Hydrocephalus Association. There is even a poster for it here at Starbuck's.  There might even be one on your e-book!

A Literary Loss

As I was folding clothes and half-listening to the news on WAMU just a few minutes ago, I learned of today's loss of Carla Cohen, a local and national saint of the literary world who co-founded Politcs & Prose. While it was known that she was in ill-health and that the store is up for sale, news of her death was like the sounding of a bell, or a fog horn bellowing its sorrowful warning. It can't be ignored. What she and her partner Barbara Meade provided was a rare haven for those who are tickled by and live for words. I am not sure she would appreciate this comparison, but I think it is fair to say that Carla was a sort of St. Francis of the book world.

And as I was writing this, I heard Alan Cheuse reviewing a book called Breathing in Dust, a first book of fiction by writer and poet Tim Hernandez, new to me. I went into the other room to catch more clearly the cadences of Hernandez' writing as read by Cheuse. Out the window I caught sight of a neighbor walking with his daughter who has not yet mastered the art of two-legged locomotion. She staggered to her own rhythm over the lumpy grass in our yard, her blonde head bobbing beneath the ripening crabapples.

I think Carla, though I did not know her personally, would somehow appreciate this scene, the inevitable connections between what is read, what is seen and what is heard, how they all seem to feed each other and in so doing feed our humanity. Carla's service to humanity will be sorely missed, but not forgotten.

Poetry in Music and Motion

There are small poetic moments in our everyday lives, that tend to happen in the corner of our eyes --the way the dog curls up on a chair, the way a simple vase with flowers catches the light in the kitchen window, the sudden uprising of sparrows from a bush, a girl riding a tricycle in her tutu-- and then there are those larger moments that seem to embody all of the smaller ones.

This weekend two of those moments have come together and though one is not at all related to the other, I see them as complimentary. First, and probably most importantly for the Washington DC area, the National Symphony is celebrating the start of Christoph Eschenbach tenure as Music Director. My sister, Rachel, is a cellist in the NSO and after one rehearsal is feeling more inspired than she has in years. If you click on his name above, you will be taken to a promo that left me welled up and reminded me again of the power of music to reach inside us and fine tune all the settings that make us human.

Simultaneously, our son Liam and our daughter Eliza are competing in the National Whitewater Slalom Championships this weekend here along the Potomac in Dickerson, MD.  Paddlers from all over the country (and the world) will be racing tomorrow in this small sport. The Washington Post gave it very nice coverage today, as did the Baltimore Sun. Our kids were thrilled that someone was paying attention. Several years ago, when asked why she liked the sport, Eliza answered "It is like dancing on water" and the picture on the front page of today's Post speaks to the beauty of the motion of boat and paddler and the water as partner.

As I picture the kids racing tomorrow, in my mind I see the arcs and turns of their boats, their pivots and their rolls all against the backdrop of the Mirant Power Plant, accompanied by the powerful and evocative sounds of the orchestra under the baton of Eschenbach.  Water music! 

Back to School and Beyond

Oh, the lazy days have passed. The books, the painting projects, the plans. We hop from one storm to the next. Only the seasons change.  Blizzards and hurricanes.

I am back at work readying my room for students, painting my door, unpacking my things. This year as I begin with my students at The Lab School I will also be guiding a workshop for adults through   Alexandria Parks and Rec. I am pleased with the response so far and am looking forward to interacting with my fellow Alexandrians this way.  Perhaps they will consent to having some of their writing posted to this blog which is woefully out of date. (I apologize.)

In the meantime, I am trying to get back to writing.  I can't seem to get away from the havoc the most recent storms wreaked on our area and I feel for the trees. So many are left standing raw and wounded. Look under POEMS for the most recent storm poem.

Stormy Weather

Last week's storms were more the fodder for photos than for poems, although in this instance, seeing was not even believing. Telephone poles suspended in mid-air, branches piled a story high, trees like fallen giants between houses, groups of neighbors wandering the streets in the rain, tops of trees blown into other yards...But, nonetheless, the muse was not silent, so a pen and legal pad were employed. The result was a poem now posted on the corner of Stewart and Dewitt and on the poetry fence (the fence was damaged, but there are new poems there for young and old). See This Poem is Being Written After the Storm under POEMS.

We regained power on Saturday afternoon thanks to the efficient work of power crews from near and far! At a glance it was hard to know whether we were in a three ring circus or in the operating theater. In the end, I decided it was the operating theater. I watched from our porch and second floor as the crews strategized under a tangle of wires, telephone poles, and branches. Then the surgeon in the bucket snipped and tied with his rubberized hands, a switch was flipped and we had power!

As I write I know there are still those we are without power and who are in bad humor about the rotting food in their fridges and freezers and I know there are those who are agonizing about the cost of having trees removed and their homes repaired. I know there are those who would like to remove every tree they see in sight. I would recommend the opposite. Plant more trees! If you live where you can plant a shade tree, do! Trees help regulate the climate and provide shade and habitat! They give us far more than they take away!

TC Seniors Tackle Essays

I am ready to write my college essay! Not really. That is long, long behind me, but after helping out at the college essay workshop at TC this afternoon, I feel as inspired as the 25 or so students who showed up. A range of volunteers from TC staff and alums to journalism professionals showed up as well at the gentle urging of TC parent Karen Schwarz who is organizing the 4 session workshop.

We explored how to look at ourselves objectively from the outside and realized that with the right hook almost anything can be turned into a story as long as the writer inserts his/her personality. It's all about being specific, painting pictures, demonstrating passion and getting the admissions officer to ask more questions.

Used to working with younger students, I was not expecting the level of passion and commitment I saw in these students of all backgrounds. Never mind that at first they were painfully reluctant to offer their contributions publicly.  Kudos to Karen for creating an atmosphere where students felt they could experiment without having their heads bitten off. Good food always helps too! Writing burns a lot of calories, believe it or not.

Good luck seniors!

Del Ray's Poetry Fence

On the corner of Windsor and Dewitt in Del Ray, there is a long gray fence. For several years now, it has been a home to poetry. Poetry lovers have hung their favorite poems there and the fence's owner keeps a dazzling array of poems on display both for adults (with appropriate content warnings) and for youth. It has become a quiet presence in the neighborhood.

I always stop to read what is there and have wanted to thank the fence's owner for sharing the fence and the poetry. Here is my homage to the poetry fence:

The Poetry Fence

The poetry fence has arms.
It reaches out and grabs you by the shoulders
and turns you so you are square to the words
   hung there,
This week, ‘corsets’ and ‘breasts’ for those over eighteen,
   and the Land of Counterpane for the younger set.

The fence is faithful, like a mail carrier,
   steadfast in all weather:
“Western wind, when will thou blow,
The small rain down can rain?”
The small poets patter by with boots and umbrellas
   in the shapes of frogs and ladybugs.
And the poetry fence calls out:
“Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home!”

The poetry fence is lonely though.
It invites you to linger just a moment longer.
“Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky…”
Just you and whoever is with you and the fence in its grey suit
   with its heart of poems.


                           - Amy Young

Alexandria Arts Forum and the Alexandria Commission for the Arts Celebrate Summer

On Thursday, July 15th, Fort Ward was besieged by the Alexandria Arts Forum and the Alexandria Commission for the Arts. The annual picnic allowed for informal interaction between city council members, artists, commission members and members of the Alexandria Arts Forum.  For those who showed up, there was cold wine and lemonade, fried chicken and a savory array of salads. Dessert ranged from cookies and watermelon to ice cream cake. (I brought a summer blueberry pie, my mother's recipe). The real food however was in the exchange of creative ideas and the sharing of concerns.

I enjoyed meeting new and old faces and discussing the need for more collaboration between artists. In one conversation the possibility of having an edgier, creative space on the West End was raised, perhaps in a warehouse or vacant mall space, a place where creation as well as performance could take place, large enough for dance and installations, but also a place where the public could gather for informal poetry slams/open mics/arts showcases featuring photography, dance, film...a space for experimentation.

I had a couple of conversations in which the lack of creative space for teens was discussed. Kudos to Convergence for making headway in this direction. Where can creative teens gather to be among themselves, where they won't be judged by adults around them and where they can be safe? The school/rec center umbrella is often perceived as too limiting and bureaucratic. What is the arts scene in Alexandria doing to reach out to younger generations in general? Is the art in the city addressing the issues and concerns of residents in their teens, twenties and thirties? I don't know what the answer to that question is, but based on recent conversations I am sensing that there is something missing and that this may be something to strive for.

I was happy to share with a number of people, my progress in making a slam team in Alexandria a possibility. Regie Cabico, a nationally revered spoken word artist and the organizing figure behind the DC Youth Slam Team, is eager to help get a team going in Alexandria.

All-in-all there was much to celebrate. These conversations were upbeat and encouraging! Let's celebrate summer! And thank you Alexandria Arts Forum and the Alexandria Commission on the Arts for providing an informal opportunity to mingle and connect.

To see the summer poem that accompanied my blueberry pie (and that I was later asked to read) go to POEMS.

Welcome W.S.Merwin and Happy Birthday Alexandria

W.S.Merwin will be the next poet laureate of the United States. While my own laurels are the tiniest little green shoots, W.S.Merwin's leafy crown must be as weighty as gold. I have the Potomac River and a little bungalow in Del Ray and he has the Pacific Ocean and a pineapple plantation on a dormant volcano! The same ratio applies to our lives as poets, his being of far greater, depth, quality and quantity than mine. However, just as one person's suffering can not be compared to another's, one poet's passions and inspirations cannot really be equated to another's. I share W.S. Merwin's dependence on the natural world and his love of languages and translation. We both have a need to write poetry.

I was interested to learn that he credits his accomplishments in poetry to the discipline and art of translation, something he pursued in order to 'learn to write'. As poet laureate of Alexandria, one of my desires is to see some sort of cultural exchange of words occur between English speakers and English learners, much as the program Poetry Inside Out has accomplished out of the Center for the Art of Literary Translation in California. Translation provides a portal into other languages and cultures and by first translating works of established poets into English, non-native speakers can gain an appreciation for their own heritage and share their pride in their culture with others. Bilingual students who are native English speakers can engage in the new language and culture in an organic way. Eventually, the established poets serve only as models for the students to write and translate their poems with and for each other.

Mr. Merwin, I welcome you as my nearest poet laureate and am open to any advice you have for me in my role. Congratulations from this side of the Potomac!


On July 10th, Alexandria celebrated its 261st birthday and the skies paid homage, by opening up and pouring down on the city for much of the day without spoiling the afternoon and evening festivities. In fact, it was a beautiful evening with low humidity and gentle breezes.  The Army Band played and the Town Crier cried. The Mayor spoke and civic heroes received awards. The Alexandria Symphony Orchestra played (boy did they play!) and the fireworks went on forever!  I had the pleasure of reading "Praise Song for Alexandria" (See Poems) a poem written for the occasion. I used Mary McElveen's poem "City of Songs" as a departure point.

My hands began to tremble, something I had not anticipated and Mayor Euille stepped in to save the day, steadying the paper with the words of the poem on it for me. Thank you, Mayor! And thank you, citizens for joining in with your voices at the end:
"Let us sing.
Let us sing.
Let us sing!"

Poets in Our Midst

Wednesday, April 28th, I had the joy of attending the ACPS Poetry Awards ceremony. Sixteen 3rd-5th grade poets were honored. They read poems about everything from birds and depression to mothers and hockey. Fifth grader, Afnan Ali from John Adams Elementary School, was named ACPS Poet Laureate. Her family is from Somalia. Her poem was called, Only I Know Who I Am.  She wrote, "I am a Somali coffee with cream. / I am a brilliant green peridot gem shining in your eyes...."  And a few lines later..."I dance across the regions of Virginia with passion and rhythm."  I felt the passion and rhythm in everyone's hearts and in their voices as these poets let their words soar around the room. Congratulations to all of you! 

It is clear that poetry is alive and well in Alexandria, even if it is hiding from us much of the time. While I was away over the weekend a package arrived at my home filled with pages of poems, by a stranger. I believe this was the same man who quietly handed me a sheaf of poems as I was leaving the City Council meeting on April 13th. His name is Wavely "China" Brown and he calls himself 'the rhyming poet'. He writes wisely about life on the street, and qualities such as loyalty and respect among other things. He has also written many poems about Alexandria and landmarks in the Washington area. Here is a quiet man writing with passion and rhythm. 

Optimistic People

When optimistic people walk down the street

They establish eye contact and etiquettely speak.

When pessimistic people walk down the street.

They look the other way and seldom speak.

               

               - Wavely "China" Brown

We have poets among us! Thinking about the poets in our midst, inspired me to start this poem:

Have You Seen A Poet?

There are poets hiding everywhere, in closets and under beds.

There are poets wearing high heels, poets wearing Keds.

There are poets using keyboards and poets using pens.

There are poets using cellphones, texting poems to their friends.

There are poets in the schools and poets on the streets.

There are poets in the laundromat, folding poems in their sheets.

There are poets in the pulpit, there are poets in this town.

There are poets at the skateboard park. Have you seen one around?

There are poets in Arlandria; there are poets in Del Ray.

There are poets who write their words at night and drive their cabs by day.

There are poets by the Potomac and poets at the park.

There are poets in the alleyways whistling to the dark.

There are poets in the West End, there are poets in the hills.

There are poets at Gadsby’s Tavern, wandering with their quills.

There are poets at Seven-Eleven, slurping wild cherry twist.

There are poets hiding everywhere. Are you one in our midst?

Tell me where the poets are hiding in Alexandria by adding your own lines to this poem.

There is nothing like having your 7th grader help you set up a blog.  Thank you, Eliza.


Happy Earth Day celebration, Alexandria! I am very pleased to be extending these wishes as Alexandria's newest poet laureate (and probably most neophyte blogger).  As the city cleans and greens, our dog is barking through the screen at every Freecycler who walks up our steps. We are cleaning out our basement (or at least my husband is, while I try on the laurels).

Since receiving and accepting the appointment of poet laureate at the City Council meeting on April 13th, I have been looking at my city through new eyes and I do feel the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. I am honored to be entrusted with the role of bringing our city together through words. As I see it, the role of poet laureate is as much about poetry as it is about community.  I hope to be able to serve you no matter what language you speak, no matter what your relationship to poetry and the written word has been in the past. Everyone has stories to tell and sing and write.

April 29th is Poem in Your Pocket Day. Take the time to share a poem with your co-workers, your students, your children, your neighbors. Take a poem to the park. See POEMS above. Celebrate National Poetry Month!  http://www.poets.org/page.php/prmID/41