Interviewer vs. Interviewer

Interviewer vs. Interviewer
( Click on picture to view) Elizabeth Lund--Host of Poetic Lines interviews Host of Poet to Poet-- Doug Holder

Friday, February 29, 2008

March 11- New Director of the Cape Cod Writers Center Anne Elizabeth Tom

(Cape Cod Writers Center)

March 11 5PM: My guest will be poet Anne Elizabeth Tom, the new director of the Cape Cod Writer's Center.

The mission of the Cape Cod Writers Center is to assist published and aspiring writers of all genres, abilities and ages to develop their writing skills and learn to edit, publish and publicize their works; to promote authors; to provide opportunities for writers to gather for inspiration, education and networking; and to introduce readers to authors and their works.

Anne Elizabeth Tom was born in Boston, grew up in the historic homes and museums of New England, and lived in Woods Hole, MA for several years. After earning a M. A. in Fine Arts from Tufts University, she spent 25 years as a researcher/writer, arts and museum educator, and as executive director of the 1785 Lee-Fendall House Museum in Old Town Alexandria.

A poet, founder of The Grange Hall Summer Poetry Series, and the Louise I. Guiney Center for Poets and Playwrights,Ms. Tom taught New England Literary History for the Academy for Lifelong Learning at Cape Cod Community College. She and her husband now make their home in Sandwich.

Ms. Tom is a world traveler and has lived in Los Angeles, Washington, DC and New York City, where she wrote and worked in universities and museums. While residing in Honolulu for 18 months, she earned a certificate in Intercultural Leadership from Asia- Pacific College, an affiliate of The University of Hawaii. During that time she studied Native Hawaiian culture, as it relates to North and South American anthropology, and looks forward to sharing her knowledge of the places and people of the islands in Asian-Pacific Cultural Tours, starting in winter of 2008.

She was a member of the Sandwich Cultural Council from 2001-2004, the board of The Nye Family Association from 2001- 2005, and now serves on the Advisory Committee for the Benjamin Nye House and Gardens in East Sandwich. Her other Cape affiliations include the Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center, the Cape Cod Writers Center, and the Sandwich Chamber of Commerce.

Friday, February 08, 2008

Feb 19 Poet Lisa Beatman author "Manufacturing America"

Lisa Beatman lives in Roslindale , MA, and manages adult literacy programs at the Harriet Tubman House in the South End. She won Honorable Mention for the 2004 Miriam Lindberg International Poetry Peace Prize and was awarded a Massachusetts Cultural Council Grant, as well as a fellowship to Sacatar Institute in Brazil .

Lisa’s work has appeared in Lonely Planet, Lilith Magazine , Hawaii Pacific Review, Rhino, Manzanita, Political Affairs, The Boston Globe, and Pemmican. Her first book, Ladies’ Night at the Blue Hill Spa, was published by Bear House Publishing.

Her second collection, Manufacturing America: Poems from the Factory Floor, has just been released by Ibbetson Press. The collection moves through the ‘life cycle’ of manufacturing – from its roots in the Lowell, MA textile mills, through downsizing, to the "artist lofts" mined from the old buildings as manufacturing moves overseas. It documents the swan song of a formerly vital sector that historically provided a leg up to many American workers. The book is true-to-life, based on her work at a print and paper manufacturing plant in Somerville , MA.

Monday, February 04, 2008

Feb 5 5PM Poet Richard Wilhelm

My guest Feb 5 at 5PM is poet Richard Wilhelm, the author of the poetry collection;"Awakenings"

Intimations of Survival in the poems of Richard Wilhelm

Review by Michael Todd Steffen

A thread of tradition in the cycle of the calendar year weaves the sequence of Richard Wilhelm’s book of poems, Awakenings (October 2007, Ibbetson Street Press), beginning with death in dull winter, proceeding to rebirth and awakening in spring, maturity and confidence in summer, ripening to harvest in autumn with premonitions of death again, still with the poet’s affirmation in the final line of the final poem,
A PASSENGER, “seeking yet another rebirth.”
Yet Wilhelm’s year is incomplete, denoting a sense of loss that resonates throughout the book. If William Carlos Williams tells us to invent “not in ideas but in things,” Wilhelm’s opening poems argue persuasively that intuitive invention is not so much in things, but in the resonance of things after their moment,

tree after Christmas tree,
put out with the trash,
some still decked in tinsel,
still fragrant with all that is over. (WHEN TOMORROW’S TRUCKS COME)

Perusing the first five poems the reader of the mainstream American poetic confidence has to ask: Where is the song of himself? By WINTER (p. 4) it is Wilhelm’s absence that has become most present. It is the world around him, the poems softly protest, in this early 21st century of aerodynamics subtly suggested in the book of nature by the creatures of the air:

An array of starlings
settles down on the Norway
maple’s snow-dusted branches.
Several birds,
as if by script,
change positions.
then a few more birds
flit to other branches.

Down from the same atmosphere of maneuvered flight, snowflakes are described as “sputtering,” as though from a mechanical sky, a sky that has overextended its patrol and interest:

copper leaves
cling on well
past death.

This intense awareness of things present in their denotation of “all that is over” (over, also “above”) conveys a sense of oppression, typified and announced in CRUMBLED BRICKS AND BROKEN GLASS, where Wilhelm feels “bored to a muted nausea,” more or less bound to follow his father around on a Saturday in an overheated Studebaker, fidgeting in a hardware store, riding along out past an abandoned railroad, places where his father’s memories are stirred, but the child’s are not. The visions are described point blank as seen, ominous in their state of dilapidation:

Rusted rails led past stands of sumac,
a chain link fence devoured by vines,
to an empty factory, its painted logos all but faded
from brick walls.

As if we lived in a super-constructed world already, the poet’s great fear is that demolition and deterioration are all that remain for the future, a ghetto-ization of housing and industrial parks that were erected and used up too fast:

this is all there is, this is all
there will ever be. Crumbled bricks
and broken glass…

The poet is unique in his subtlety of communicating things present, yet liberation of consciousness from the determined Now begins in the imagination, finding its first avenue to something possibly different, some change, in memory, the source of the shift in voice in AWAKENINGS where,

My senses soon whisk me
to my rural boyhood—

and in the rejuvenation of his mind, Wilhelm plays again:

We were soldiers or
Indians or desert island-
survivors. We’d crouch
in bushes, sneak up a hill
then hurl our spears into
a gully of soft wet earth…

The spears the boys hurl into the wet earth, the poet’s primary sense of manhood, only in the prior poem, NONES OF FEBRUARY, Wilhelm had discovered, “a fallen branch, dead but strong,” from which with his penknife he begins to carve out his poems, “smaller branches and knots” and a staff to sustain him walking “like a wandering monk.”
In the space allowed in this article I have touched on only a few poems, to make a point about Wilhelm’s sensibility: it is subtle, careful in the placement of word and line for connotation, and powerful when given a patient appreciation. The death of Christmas and rebirth and awakening to spring is so critical and vital to human survival, and Wilhelm has not failed to acknowledge this wondrous operation, however great the struggle against these birth pangs, however great the obstacle posed by civilization in our day which demonstrates its reliance on aggressive technology rather than on our curious communion with the earth and its plants and creatures, the suggestion of its cycles, so carefully heeded and portrayed in these poems.

We are given Wilhelm’s wide range of acceptance, from the beautiful and hopeful WE’LL GROW NEW FACES, where

If the dream comes again—
Sweet May will scent the air,

to the foreboding visions, in NIGHT OF THE BLOOD RED MOON, of an equilateral moon rising through sunset red, with the poet’s senses overcome by an equally unusual

from somewhere deep in the blood,
yearned for one I had not yet met.

Well worth reading and rereading, Richard Wilhelm’s Awakenings does the work of piercing through our superficial civilization, relating us to the cycle of our source and mother, the earth and her bearings, using familiar settings and images, set out in simple yet striking language.

Ibbetson Update/ Michael Todd Steffen/ Dec. 2007