This is a poem sourced from some of the teachings of my mother, a Sierra Leonean Creole woman who probably doesn't realize how closely I have been listening to her. While my mother is right 98% of the time, I never tell her. I think that this is why the lessons (rich, true, urgent, and at times, cheeky) persist. This poem is an ode to our loved ones who serve as compasses, to diaspora, to record keeping as a form of reflection and act of love.
Yalie Saweda Kamara on "Mother's Rules" |
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Austin Poet's Effort to Have a Poet Laureate
"Texas has appointed a laureate yearly since 2003. The current Texas poet laureate is Amanda Johnston, of Round Rock. Most of the state's major cities have their own, with one exception—Austin. KB Brookins, an Austin poet, launched a petition to bring the issue to Austin's City Council. They said that not having a poet laureate is 'a missed opportunity.' 'This person promotes literacy throughout the city, specifically via the art of poetry,' Brookins said."
via KXAN |
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What Sparks Poetry:
Juliana Spahr on "Gentle Now Don't Add to Heartache"
"Humans do not show up until the eighth section of sixteen. The chant is enumerative, but not merely enumerative. In the list of flora and fauna that the Kumulipo includes, humans come after birds, bats, and fish and before octopus, coral, and eel. I know of almost no examples of a poem with such an ecosystem, such a hope, such a possibility, such a reminder. And if I had to start to try to figure out what poetry is in this moment of ecological crisis, I might start there." |
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