Category: Poet Voice Blog 2023
Continuing to think about poetry–after April.
Begin Again!
Begin again. The law is clear
As geologic ages rear
Through curling heat and stiffening cold,
Lost ocean or fresh land unrolled,
We see the new forms still appear.
Nature’s best method triumphs here;
She builds not in one column sheer,
But birth on birth as beads are told
New life we find, rebuilt from old,
Begin again.
Each new day blossoms from the bier
Of night forgotten. Have no fear—
Let us, who are the world, be bold,
Take hope once more, take heart, take hold
Rise now with the new risen year—
Begin again.
Charlotte Perkins Gilman
As we embark on the “unwritten pages of the new,” I draw on the optimism of the the writer, poet, activist, lecturer, artist, and ever industrious, Charlotte Perkins Gilman–who continues to inspire me today.
So much did she inspire me when I first discovered her large body of work that I spent another several decades collecting the poetry that was nearly inaccessible before my book (cover below). Now available at scattered US universities, such as Harvard, Columbia, Boston College, Library of Congress, as well as de la Sorbonne, The British Library, University of Oxford Library, and in Germany and Switzerland (check out Worldcatalog for more locations).
(Mellen Press, 2014)
So, dear readers, I hope you will join me in following Gilman’s inspiration. Her writings are full of poems and stories about beginning again and resolve.
“To keep my health!/To do my work!/To live!/To see to it I grow and gain and give!” (“Resolve”)
As we face the new opportunities and obstacles on our path, let’s adopt her resolve.
“Take hope once more, take heart, take hold” and “begin again”!
Jacquelyn Markham (January 3, 2025)
Dinosaur National Monument with the Milky Way galaxy photographed in the night sky. (Geologic ages explained.)
“New forms still appear”
Lammas, Harvest & too hot to bake?
Like Solstices and Equinoxes, the cross quarter dates can vary a day or two, so you may have celebrated Lammas yesterday on August 1 or you may be celebrating today. Also, as with any holiday that has been celebrated since ancient times, there are so many variations. The cross quarter holidays fall between the change of seasons–fall, winter, spring, and summer, so, as we celebrate Lammas (or Lughnasa as it is also called), let us be grateful for the harvest.
What is important to me today is to celebrate the harvest and bread (lamas is loaf mass). I plan to break out the sourdough starter and put my hands in the dough. I have enjoyed the videos that Hendrik has shared on his channel Bread Code.
If it is just too hot to bake (with climate change and our hot planet earth)! Sit down with a cool drink and watch this vintage film with Meryl Streep that I watched with a dear friend in Long Beach, California now many decades ago.
If it’s too hot to bake, once you have finished watching Meryl Streep, learn about ways to help save the planet from burning up!
Read full poem in Rainbow Warrior, my latest book of poems, that celebrates nature and calls us to action.
Jacquelyn Markham, Poet Voice
Weaving a Golden Web
A golden orb weaver has moved into a corner of my front verandah and seems quite at home there. She looks as if she has no intentions of ever moving away. Though surely a gift from the universe, if any of you have ever seen this spider, you know that she can be a bit daunting!
According to one website, a group of writers and entymologists who created it out of a labor of love, the golden orb weaver is a “fascinating spider known for its intricate, large webs that shimmer like gold in the sunlight.”
(By the way, if you visit, what’sthatbug.com, be sure to click on the ads which, they explain, help to “generate revenue to pay for hosting, expert entomologists, and bandwidth costs when visitors click on ads on our site.”)
So, alleviating any fears I may have of the amazing golden orb weaver, the information from these entomologists is of interest: “orbweaver spiders are generally non-threatening creatures that pose little risk to humans.” I have noticed that this very large spider is completely oblivious to my presence even when I am watering my porch plants nearby. Whatsthatbug.com continues its “interaction with humans” details: “Their venomous bites are usually harmless, and they exhibit docile behavior in their natural habitats.” For sure, I will not be putting my hand into the web and the Golden Orb Weaver is a very busy spider! She has no time for the likes of me. So, I turn to my usual approach, the symbolism of this “animal spirit.”
Jamie Sams & David Carson in The Discovery of Power Through the Ways of Animals, a guide that accompanies my deck of medicine cards (Bear & Company, Santa Fe, NM), says: “Spider is the female energy of the creative force that weaves the beautiful designs of life.. .If Spider has dropped into your cards (or life, my italics), she may be telling you to create, create, create.”
Spider Woman, popular culture notwithstanding, has been a powerful symbol in some American Indian cultures (Navaho & Hopi), for example, “Spider Woman represented wisdom and education,” according to encyclopedia.com. She is associated with crops, weaving and the goddess as “a symbol of the ability to weave and to create something from one’s own body, just as a spider makes silk” (encyclopedia.com).
Image credit: https://arthive.com/artists/10191~Susan_Seddon_Boulet/works/284690~Shaman_Spiderwoman
So, what does my symbol tell me today? Create, create, create & remember the sheer wonder of our world!
Golden Orb Weaver Spider
And, dear readers, I will end with a poem from my book Peering Into the Iris: An Ancestral Journey, that tells a story of my ancestors & their weaving.
Get in Touch
Jacquelyn is always available for readings and mentoring poets and writers. If you want to chat about poetry, books, or creativity, don’t hesitate to reach out, make a comment, or send an email to: jacquiepoet3@gmail.com
Listening to Clouds
Be comforted, dear soul! There is always light behind the clouds.”
Louisa May Alcott
When I began to listen to poetry, it’s when I began to listen to the stones, and I began to listen to what the clouds had to say, and I began to listen to others. And I think, most importantly for all of us, then you begin to learn to listen to the soul, the soul of yourself in here, which is also the soul of everyone else.”
Joy Harjo
Sometimes when I am writing, my head is in the clouds. And, I have been writing. Now, I may shift from words to images. These cloud images I took with my simple phone camera, but, I must also paint to really listen, to hear my soul. Below is detail from larger painting titled “Rushgatherers,” inspired by photos of Penn Center, St. Helena, SC (Face of an Island)
(Jacquelyn Markham, poet/painter)
Jacquelyn Markham, poet & writer, author of Rainbow Warrior, Finishing Line Press (2023), Peering Into the Iris: An Ancestral Journey and China Baby, among other titles.
Gladioli from my Garden Against “Abstract Marsh”
(Acrylic on stretched canvas, painted by the author on retreat at Penn Center, St. Helena, SC, ca. 2003)
The continuity of art reveals itself more each year. Images, colors, and themes recur in our writing, painting, photography, cooking, and gardening. So, by chance, when I cut the gladioli from my June garden and placed it in a vase, it gravitated to a painting on my wall. So many times, I have seen in nature like attracts like, for example, yellow butterflies light on yellow flowers.
But, back to the continuity of art. Even in cooking, for example, I have sour dough starter in my refrigerator right now, a baking theme from many years ago when sour dough enjoyed another popularity trend. So, when I was baking bread a week or so ago, I pulled out a poem titled “Bread-Baking” from my collection Lavender Blooms Turn Eggplant Purple (there’s that recurring color!) After some searching, I found the poem and revised it. I’ll share some lines with you here.
Thinking the bread-baking might restore
the home my vagabond dreams threaten,
I set the yeast & the flour in action.
Fingers knead the dough,
punch, pull, stretch until
finally, I shape a smooth loaf,
place it in the bowl,
cover with clean linen.
Time now for its rising.
I wonder as I rest,
steaming tea to my lips,
leaves rustling outside the window,
how yeast turns flour to bread &
what leaven would so wonderfully
transform the early days
into sustenance for the soul?
Jacquelyn Markham (excerpt Bread-Baking)
And, now, it’s June and in my region along with the stunning purple & wine gladioli, we enjoy the abundance of vegetable gardens. So, the other day, I relived another poem, from another time, “Today This Jar of Pickles is My Poem.” This poem became the title poem of a chapbook of the same name that placed as a finalist in a chapbook contest sponsored by what was then Armstrong State College in Savannah (now Georgia Southern University).
from the poem:
I struggle with domesticity
as I sterilize jars, clear
pack fresh cucumbers, garlic
sharp smelling dill
breathe steaming vinegar
vapor that unclouds the brain
Lids bounce in boiling water
I fish for one and quickly seal
each jar, this could be a poem
each jar, this a painting
each jar, I question
and justify
. . .
On gray winter days
sculptures in glass on my shelf
green peppers and cayennes twist in to form
zucchinis and crookneck yellows
wind, curve around each other
speckled beans, mosaics
I take down jar after jar
chill or heat the colors
shapes, lines
patterns that turn to food and are eaten
Jacquelyn Markham
(excerpt from “Today This Jar of Pickles is My Poem”)
So, today, look around you. Do you see the continuity of art around you? And, the continuity of your life?
Jacquelyn~ aka Poet Voice
PAD 13 Rhyme Play: Perched in a tree
Perched in a tree, feeling free
As I perched in a cottonwood tree, feeling as free
as a bird who could fly, I thought I heard a flute
song far far from me—like smoke in the sky,
the melody went by. It seemed so close to me,
I could kiss the fingers of the one who played flute,
but alas, then, it went mute and I heard only the noise of a car!
It was far from me, but still, it jarred my bliss
in this peaceful spot that wasn’t cold nor was it hot.
It was until the car, pure bliss. Oh what a bitter pill
to lose the trill of the flute and the melodies of Bach,
traded for zoom, zoom, zoom of the car. And that car
was not far at all from my blissful state in the tree!
Jarring me, giving me jitters when moments ago
I felt only bliss and a kiss of the breeze that
carried the song of a mockingbird and a flute.
What glee! What bliss! To be so free! To close my eyes
to feel like a soft kiss the notes of the flute
and the birdsong! Until the car, smoke, and the noise
made it fly from me as I perched in this cottonwood tree!
Jacquelyn Markham 4/13/2024
Jacquelyn Markham, poet & writer, author of Rainbow Warrior, Finishing Line Press (2023), Peering Into the Iris: An Ancestral Journey and China Baby, among other titles.
And here’s the prompt for today’s poem:
Napowrimo.net: “our optional prompt for the day asks you to play with rhyme. Start by creating a “word bank” of ten simple words. They should only have one or two syllables apiece. Five should correspond to each of the five senses (i.e., one word that is a thing you can see, one word that is a type of sound, one word that is a thing you can taste, etc). Three more should be concrete nouns of whatever character you choose (i.e., “bridge,” “sun,” “airplane,” “cat”), and the last two should be verbs. Now, come up with rhymes for each of your ten words. (If you’re having trouble coming up with rhymes, the wonderful Rhymezone is at your service). Use your expanded word-bank, with rhymes, as the seeds for your poem. Your effort doesn’t actually have to rhyme in the sense of having each line end with a rhymed word, but try to use as much soundplay in your poem as possible.”
Day 12 A Tall Tale
The Woman Next Door: A Tall Tale
There once was a woman who lived
on a street called Bob O’Link
just beyond an avenue named Jacana
after the bird who walks on lily pads.
She stayed in a small Cape Cod of red brick
with no distinctive architecture, but
neat windows up high, & a room to paint the moon,
overlook for neighbor’s trimmed
& landscaped yard. Her house sat on a grassy lot
with two twig dropping maples, a semicircle of
dwarf hollies & a spindly rhododendren.
The little brick house appeared nothing unusual,
but inside, a river ran through the basement,
rising high after the rain.
The witch woman in a flowing gown,
or priestess if you prefer, molts
in cycles with the seasons & phases of the moon.
She chants, burns sage in an Abalone shell,
raises energy & draws down the moon
to make her good magic. Ancestors
visit her in dreams & visions.
She paints & writes her own mythology.
Shaman Jacana transforms, hopping
from lily pad to lily pad, always
searching her next home.
You see, she’s got gypsy in her soul.
Jacquelyn Markham (4/12/24)
And, the prompt that started all of this!
Napowrimo.net: “And last but not least, our optional prompt. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that plays with the idea of a “tall tale.” American tall tales feature larger-than-life characters like Paul Bunyan (who is literally larger than life), Bulltop Stormalong (also gigantic), and Pecos Bill (apparently normal-sized, but he doesn’t let it slow him down). If you’d like to see a modern poetic take on the tall tale, try Jennifer L. Knox’s hilarious poem, “Burt Reynolds FAQ.” Your poem can revolve around a mythical character, one you make up entirely, or add fantastical elements into a real person’s biography.”
Day 11 The Painted Desert Glowed
Painted Desert Memory
The painted desert glowed rose red in the sunset
when we drove west & you were so young
with your auburn hair.
Jacquelyn Markham (4/11/2024)
Today, Day 11 of the poem-a-day challenge in honor of National Poetry Month, 2024, we were encouraged by Napowrimo.net to write a one line poem: “our optional prompt for the day honors the “ones” in the number 11.”
Maureen Thorsen writes: “Today, we’d like to challenge you to write either a monostich, which is a one-line poem, or a poem made up of one-liner style jokes/sentiments.” This prompt sends us to Writer’s Digest where we find a different prompt and an example of monostich (a one line poem) by Robert Lee Brewer.
Regret
by Robert Lee Brewer
I hold a chip bag that only holds crumbs.
That’s a sad story, Robert, but I think mine is even sadder or at least nostalgic!
By the way, if you want to check out the prompts at Writer’s Digest, curated by Robert Lee Brewer, you can find them here:
Robert’s prompt for today is: “For today’s prompt, write a memory poem. The poem could conjure up an actual memory that you have from your childhood, or last week, or earlier this morning. Or the memory could be made up. Or the memory is just a starting point for a completely different poem. Your memories, your poems.”
I combined the two prompts for a one-liner memory poem. Hope you like it!
Jacquelyn Markham, poet & writer, author of Rainbow Warrior, Finishing Line Press (2023), Peering Into the Iris: An Ancestral Journey and China Baby, among other titles.
Day 9 Ode to My Bluejeans
Ahhh a little sleep and a whole new attitude as Day 9 of the poem-a-day challenge arrives. A little lighter in the vein of Pablo Neuruda’s “Ode to My Socks” (see prompt from Maureen Thorson by clicking here at Napowrimo.net or below).
Ode to My Bluejeans
some stretch in the bluejeans required
bluejeans must be rugged but with style
often worn bluejeans can usually be revived
with a twirl in the clothes dryer
bluejeans pulled on for a knock on the door
bluejeans for a stroll in the “back forty”
bluejeans with a hat & sunglasses
for a trip to the mailbox
bluejeans & boots for a serious trek
in the overgrown field
bluejeans & flip flops
for a quick trip to the store
bluejeans to plant
rootbound dianthus, viola, & dill
hang bluejeans on a hook for easy grabbing
until one day bluejeans demand
their turn in the washing machine
to retain their usefulness & for
a reward of almost new bluejeans
skip the dryer—except for the twirl
for minor touch up
blue jeans you are a loyal friend!
Jacquelyn Markham (4/9/2024)
Prompt:
“Our prompt for today (optional, as always) takes its inspiration from Pablo Neruda, the Chilean-born poet and Nobel Prize Winner. While he is most famous in the English-speaking world for his collection Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, he also wrote more than two hundred odes, and had a penchant for writing sometimes-long poems of appreciation for very common or mundane things. You can read . . .“Ode to My Socks” here, and “Ode to a Large Tuna in the Market” here.” (Napowrimo.net)
Jacquelyn Markham, poet & writer, author of Rainbow Warrior, Finishing Line Press (2023), Peering Into the Iris: An Ancestral Journey and China Baby, among other titles.
Poet Voice 
