Tag Archives: national poetry month

sur·ren·der

Photo by Francesca Woodman

Photo by Francesca Woodman

 

 

Well, here we are at the conclusion of a wonderful na·po·mo at the dictionary project! I’m grateful that poetry gets its own month and also grateful that we can continue to read and support poets, to write and share our own poetry all year. I want to thank all of our wonderful poets for the work they have written and shared with us and special thanks goes to our last poet, Danielle Vogel. 

And in the first time in the history of this literary community, a word was bibliomanced for the second time. I guess this is appropriate because it is a word we probably all need to be reminded of from time to time. The word is surrender. Those of you who have been regular followers of the dictionary project will remember that I first wrote about surrender in the fall in relationship to an Amy Goodman reading I attended. I am delighted to share with you Danielle’s gorgeous and evocative take on the word. Thanks go to Danielle for providing the image as well.

And thanks to you, today and always, for reading and being part of this process.

 

sur·ren·der (səˈrendər)v.t. [OFr. surrendre: sur-, upon, up + rendre, to render], 1.  to give up possession of or power over; yild to another on demand or compulsion.  2.  to give up claim to; give over or yield, especially voluntarily, as in favor of another.  3.  to give up or abandon; as, we surrendered all hope.  4.  to yield or resign (oneself) to an emotion, influence, etc.  5.  [Obs.], to give back or in return.  v.i.  to give oneself up to yield.  n.  [Anglo-Fr.  < OFr.  surrendre (see the v.); inf. used as n.],  1.  the act of surrendering, yielding, or giving up.  2.  in insurance, the voluntary abandonment of a policty by an insured person in return for a cash payment (surrender value), thus freeing the company of liability.
SYN.–surrender commonly implies the giving up of something completely after striving to keep it (to surrender a fort, one’s freedom, etc.); relinquish is the general word implying an abandoning, giving up, or letting go of something held (to relinquish one’s grasp, a claim, etc.); to yield is to concede or give way under pressure (to yield one’s consent); to submit is to give in to authority or superior force (to submit to a conqueror); resign implies a voluntary, formal relinquishment and, used reflexively, connotes submission or passive acceptance (to resign an office, to resign oneself to failure).

 

 

 

dv1 dv2 dv2again dv4

 

 

Vogel, Dictionary Project author photoDanielle Vogel’s textile scroll-works and ceramic book artifacts, which explore the ceremonial gestation of a manuscript as it is written, have been exhibited in galleries across the country. Her most recent collection, Narrative & Nest, is a cross-disciplinary study relating the construction of nests to the writing of books — both as complex sites of composition, habitation, instinct, and narrative. She is the author of Narrative & Nest (Abecedarian Gallery, 2012) and lit (Dancing Girl Press, 2008). She received her MFA in Writing & Poetics from Naropa University, and is currently a PhD candidate at the University of Denver. She lives in Providence, Rhode Island, where she is writing toward the completion of her book Clasp, excerpted here. Her author photo was bibliomanced by Maurice Blanchot’s The Writing of the Disaster and reads: “a turning point which puts us face to face with the demand of the turning point.” Danielle wrote, ‘I often carry books alongside the books I am writing. I dip into them for messages the way one might visit the Tarot. One such book is Maurice Blanchot’s The Writing of the Disaster. While writing the middle section of Clasp, I asked Blanchot’s book to interrupt my writing practice with a message and this is what I received.”

 

 

Leave a Comment

Filed under napomo

sur·veil·lance

"What Are You Looking At?", Banksy

“What Are You Looking At?”, Banksy

 

Today is the last day of April and the last day of na·po·mo 2013. We have a double-decker day with one poem now and one poem later in the day. Our first poem today is by Logan Dirtyverbs. Enjoy!

 

sur·veil·lance,  n.  [Fr.  <  surveiller, to watch over; sur- ( < L. super), over + veiller  < L. vigilare, to watch],  1.  watch or observation kept over a person, especially one under suspicion or a prisoner.  2. supervision or inspection.

 

TO NEITHER CONFIRM NOR DENY
 

a legible surveillance disclaimer
TO OBSERVE WITH INTENT
a distinct whine in blue sky
TO NOTICE AGGRESSIVELY
where drones roam freely
TO ACTIVELY TAKE NOTE
soon drones will keep quiet
TO KEEP CLOSE WATCH
a more convenient freedom
TO INTERCEPT PREEMPTIVELY
the windchime sounds unstable
TO ASCERTAIN CULPABILITY
the bee conducts search flower-by-flower
TO AGGREGATE EFFICIENTLY
a swarm of self-directing drones
TO SECURE THE HOMELAND
an obtuse infestation of bugs
TO PHOTOGRAPH PUBLIC SPACES
a budding nest of security cameras
TO TRANSMIT ELECTRONICALLY
the trains of thought in choreography
TO IRREVOCABLY CONNECT DOTS
a gold rush of data mining geology
TO PRACTICE NONADMISSION
a twenty twenty all aerial eyesight
TO UNMAN AERIAL SYSTEMS
an officious and casual voyeurism
TO SPEAK FREELY IN PUBLIC
a vain culture easiest to surveil
TO SEARCH FOR IDENTITY
a watched society most secure
TO ASSOCIATE WITH OTHERS
social media a great diy fbi fyi
TO KNOW THE LATEST
a clear evolutionary craving
TO SEE AND BE UNSEEN
knowing what others are doing
TO RECOGNIZE THE FACES
security for whom & by whom
TO AUTOMATE REDACTION
certain cannot be used
TO SPEAK SUSPICIOUSLY
prison regulates unemployment
TO WAGE WAR ON FEAR
war a fantastic job creator
TO TRIGGER WORDS
self-surveillance smaller govt
TO POLICE STATE SECRET
the alibi sousveillance hobby
TO THREATEN PRIVACY
policing the self in private
TO USE DANGEROUS SPEECH
a homegrown wet orwellian orgasm
TO STATE & PLAUSIBLY DENY
or what do you have to hide anyway
TO JUST ASK A FEW QUESTIONS
you don’t know what you have to hide
TO AGREE TO TERMS & CONDITIONS
until it has been finally found
TO PLEASE SIGN HERE
x___________________________

 

 

Photo by Trish Santangelo

Photo by Trish Santangelo

 
logan dirtyverbs is a bilingual poet, performer and dj based in tucson, az. to see more of his work, check out: dirtyverbs.com and @dirtyverbs on twitter.

Leave a Comment

Filed under napomo

scold

© ladiscarica, NO, (NEON. La materia luminosa dell’arte, MACRO)

© ladiscarica, NO, (NEON. La materia luminosa dell’arte, MACRO)

 

For our third post of na·po·mo, we have a poem from George Life. Enjoy!

 

scold* v. find fault with angrily –n. one who scolds.

 

Picture 3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

george-lifeGeorge Life lives in Tucson where, among other things, he is working on a complete translation of the late poems of Du Fu. More at periplumvia.blogspot.com.

 

 

 

*Word was bibliomanced from a 2000 Webster’s New Pocket Dictionary.

Leave a Comment

Filed under napomo

re·cep·tion

   IMG_0374

IMG_8077

IMG_0806

IMG_9595

 

re·cep·tion  (ri-ˈsep-shən)  n.  [ME. reception; OFr.; L. receptio  <  pp. of receptere; see RECEIVE],  1.  a receiving or being received.  2.  the manner of this: as, a very hearty reception  3.  a social function, often formal, for the receiving of guests.  4.  the act of mentally accepting or approving.  5.  in radio & television, the manner of receiving, with reference to the relative quality of reproduction: as, the storm caused poor reception.

Our second poet for na·po·mo is Christina Vega-Westhoff. Enjoy her poem below.

 

 

AFTER DIRECTION

 

For we are questioning how they breathe life

into the fragrant cities.

Did dust cover your nose and blind you?

Did the patterned walls beseech you?

How education advanced, or was said

to. Take care that what is painted on your

inside is not five. You came too soon to asking.

 

But what is given to be received.

We of the screaming action clan. Act even still.

To subvert delay reception. The moon began to speak

now silently. The boat if you stepped into it did

not sink. Was said to resemble oat.

 

In this painting it is the handing back of fate.

Once the gods discovered the vow broken

all sides lay still waiting. Those that didn’t

still found themselves in question.

 

The little young woman—how desiring she is to

take. To say the gift is precious—not to

be thought of, glossy. Too used then

to taking another and then this too.

 

If the police could have been an elsehood.

Stealing for selfhood.

The spider in the mouth of your swallowing.

So many times as though erased.

Calm now.

 

Claro, who would have been received as

departing. Led back into the cell. Before

exported/exiled/deported.

Held heavy then passive.

What was the mouth spoken of.

The daughter’s friend humping the carpet in

the basement. Truth or dare the dream

died. Across of this take flight.

How if it became too much for any one person,

having given, disappointed, and betrayed. Crossing

the country to find oneself forgotten.

 

 

 

IMG_3077 copyChristina Vega-Westhoff is a poet, translator, and aerialist living in Tucson. Her poetry appears or will appear in Fieralingue, Spiral Orb, The Lumberyard Magazine, 1913: A Journal of Forms, and Witness: A JLP Anthology.  Translations of Melanie Taylor Herrera’s work appear or are forthcoming in Ezra, Metamorphoses, and PRISM International.

Leave a Comment

Filed under napomo

na·po·mo

IMG_1200

 

Well, spring has sprung. April has come. And along with being the time where things turn green and blossoms sprout from the ground, April is National Poetry Month. To celebrate, the dictionary project is hosting its second annual na·po·mo! All month, we will be featuring poems contributed by visiting poets in response to  dictionary project words. Stay tuned!

Leave a Comment

Filed under napomo

so·lo

 

 

so·lo (ˈsōlō),  n.  [ pl.  SOLOS  (-lōz); rarely SOLI (-lē)], [It.  <  L. solus, alone],  1.  a musical piece or passage to be played or sung by one person, with or without accompaniment.  2.  an airplane flight made by a pilot alone, without any passengers or instructor.  3.  any performance by one person alone.  4.  any card game in which there are no partners.  adj.  1.  arranged for or performed by a single voice or instrument.  2.  performing a solo.  3.  made or done by one person v.i. in aviation, to make a solo flight, especially one’s first.

 

It’s the last day of April and the last day of National Poetry Month! So today, we have our last word and last post for our first annual na·po·mo. The word is so·lo and the poet is TC Tolbert. Thanks so much for joining us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

TC Tolbert is a genderqueer, feminist poet and teacher committed to social justice.  Co-editor of the forthcoming Anthology of Trans and Genderqueer Poetry (Nightboat Books), TC is the author of two chapbooks, territories of folding (Kore Press) and spirare (Belladonna).  His first book, Gephyromania, is forthcoming from Ahsahta Press.  He is the Assistant Director of Casa Libre en la Solana, Adjunct faculty at University of Arizona and Pima Community College, and founder of Made for Flight.  www.tctolbert.com

Leave a Comment

Filed under napomo

pe·nol·o·gy

 

Robyn, from "Handle Me"

 

 

pe·nol·o·gy  /pēˈnäləjē/  n. the study of the punishment of crime and of prison management.  mid 19th cent.: from Latin poena ‘penalty’ + -LOGY. –pe·nol·o·gi·cal  /pē-nə-ˈlä-ji-kəl/ adj. pe·nol·o·gist /jist/  n.

 

Writer Annie Guthrie joins us for our first annual na·po·mo. Enjoy her poem and photos:

 

 

*

make a box
a social judicial legislative executive box
a thought box
what kind of time does it keep
bodybox time  you feel
yes what did the mothers do
I always study yourself
you are the box. make you the box box fist
im going to punch me first
im going to wall my own wall with a wallbox!
make it box make it do
what kind of keeping does it do
heritage box lineage box legacy box
are you the archon who traces
my fistbox punches ?
yes attention is valuable
is studying humane
that’s why you can’t find it?
it is hoped
navigational way points fix whatbox
your ownself atbox
fear it keeper it do keep
trespassing the natural
I have I have not I had I had not I do have I do not have
I do I did I was I were I were not I am I am not
I where I am I where I am not I am not where
whatbox stay right there where you arebox
I can still put my hands in my pocket
it’s no longer in your hands
wouldn’t you wear gloves for that
yes

 

 
 

Annie Guthrie is a writer and jeweler living in Tucson. She works and teaches at the UA Poetry Center. She has work published in Tarpaulin Sky, Ploughshares, Fairy Tale Review, HNGMAN, The Destroyer, RealPoetik, Everyday Genius, Omniverse, The Volta, Spial Orb and more.

Leave a Comment

Filed under napomo

fly·ing boat

 

 

fly·ing boat, an airplane with a hull that permits it to land on and take off from water: see TYPES OF AIRPLANE, p. 32

 

For the second time in two weeks and in the history of  the dictionary project, when I closed my eyes and ran my finger through the pages of the dictionary, I landed on an image. This time, the image was of a flying boat, a vessel made for both air and water, from a page covered in illustrations of airplanes. Enjoy Kristen Nelson’s text & image poem for the next installment of na·po·mo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kristen E. Nelson is the author of Write, Dad (Unthinkable Creatures Press, 2012). Her recent work can be found in Tarpaulin Sky, Trickhouse, Cranky Literary Journal, In Posse Review, Dinosaur Bees, Everyday Genius, GlitterTongue, and Spiral Orb. She is a founder and the Executive Director of Casa Libre en la Solana; an editor/curator for Trickhouse; a production editor for Tarpaulin Sky Press; and a writing teacher. She earned her MFA in creative writing from Goddard College.

Photo credit: Sarah Dalby


Leave a Comment

Filed under napomo

drows·i·ly

 

drows·i·ly  (drou’z’l-i)  adv.  in a drowsy manner, sleepily

Samuel Ace joins us with his rendition of drows·i·ly for na·po·mo at the dictionary project. Enjoy the dreamscape, the space in between.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Samuel Ace is the author of three collections of poetry: Normal Sex (Firebrand Books), Home in three days. Don’t wash., a hybrid project of poetry, video and photography (Hard Press), and most recently Stealth, co-authored with Maureen Seaton (Chax Press). He is a recipient of a New York Foundation for the Arts grant, two-time finalist for a Lambda Literary Award in Poetry, winner of the Astraea Lesbian Writer’s Fund Prize in Poetry, The Katherine Anne Porter Prize for Fiction and the Firecracker Alternative Book Award in Poetry. His work has been widely anthologized and has appeared in or is forthcoming from, Ploughshares, Eoagh, Spiral Orb, Nimrod, The Prose Poem: an International Journal, Kenyon Review, van Gogh’s Ear, 3:am, and others. He lives in Tucson, AZ and Truth or Consequences, NM.

 

In their jammies (clockwise from top left): Trudy, Pete, and Don from Mad Men; Lana Turner; The Von Trapp Family; and Models from 1957 (photo by Nina Leen)

Leave a Comment

Filed under napomo

con·stel·la·tion

 

 

con·stel·la·tion  (känstəˈlāSHən),  n.  [ME. & OFr.  constellacion;  LL.  constellatio < constellatus, set with stars < L. com-, with + pp. of stellare, to shine < stella, a star; see STELLAR]  1.  a number of fixed stars arbitrarily considered as a group, usually named after some mythological being that they supposedly resemble in outline: see charts on following pages.  2.  the part of the heavens occupied by such a group.  3.  any brilliant cluster or gathering: as, a constellation of beautiful women.  4.  in astrology, a) the grouping of the planets at any particular time, especially at a person’s birth. b) one’s disposition or fate as supposedly influenced by such a grouping.  5.  in psychology, a group of related thoughts regarded as clustered about one central idea.

Editor’s note: For the first time in the dictionary project history, when closing my eyes and flipping through the dictionary, I landed on an image instead of a word. An image of the constellations in the sky. Closest to Libra, in case you are curious. The word for this post is con·stel·la·tion as a result.

For the third word of na·po·mo at the dictionary project, Lauren Eggert-Crowe joins us, contemplating the cosmos.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lauren Eggert-Crowe was born and raised in rural Pensylvania. After a four year stint in the magical fairyland of Santa Cruz, where she lived so close to the ocean she could hear sea lions from her bedroom window, she relocated to Los Angeles to work as a freelance writer. She has written for The Rumpus, L.A. Review of Books, The Murky Fringe, and Blue Jean Gourmet. Her poetry has been published in several journals, including Puerto Del Sol, So To Speak, DIAGRAM, Terrain.org, Water-Stone Review, Eleven Eleven, and We Are So Happy To Know Something. Her first chapbook, The Exhibit, is forthcoming from Hyacinth Girl Press in January 2013. She is also the author of the literary feminist ‘zine, Galatea’s Pants. She holds an English degree from the Robert E. Cook Honors College at Indiana University of Pennsylvania, and an MFA in Creative Writing from The University of Arizona.

Leave a Comment

Filed under napomo