My Secret Weapon

Photo unrelated to the post. I just wanted to give you all a wave. :)

Photo unrelated to the post. I just wanted to give you all a wave. 🙂

 

Perhaps you have wondered where I come up with poems to recite each week.
I have a decent poetry collection but only half of it is here in Mexico, and not all of my favorite poems are appropriate for the project. Though you can read tons of poems on line, it takes time to find the right poem, and time on line is something I don’t have, so I was a little concerned when I began, how I would fuel the project.
My friend Larry gave me an Ipad and showed me the wonders of the app store, where I found Poetry Magazine’s free app. It is fantastic. It’s loaded with poetry from many of my favorite poets and even more I’d never read.
Poems can be searched by theme in addition to poet, title and first line. New poems download automatically, and you can download the pdf of the magazine for free also.
I have Poetry Magazine to thank for my new acquaintance with, Jane Hirschfield, Kevin Young, Juan Felipe Herrera and the author of today’s poem, Todd Boss.(Check out this link, it’s his word press site, he’s also an artist and a filmmaker.)
There are 13 of Mr. Boss’s poems in the app. I found his style unique and intriguing– his form, and sense of rhyme, the way he uses the title of his poem as the first line. He reminds me a bit of Emily Dickenson. This week I recite, the charming– The World is in Pencil, by Todd Boss.
If you are a poetry lover, I highly recommend Poetry Magazine’s free app, it’s a treasure.

Ps. I hope the photo and the links work, forgive me if they’re not, I will fix it soon. Everything “looks” fine, but I’m getting mixed and strange signal from my campo office today. Thank you for you patience. paz, Abby

Ode to the Midwest

Full Moon Storm

See and hear! me recite Kevin Young’s poem Ode to the Midwest right here!
I was born in Des Moines, Iowa. I’m proud of that.  Though now I live deep in the heart of Mexico, I lived the first forty years of my life in the Midwest.  When I read this poem by Kevin Young; oh, how I laughed!…and was sooo homesick. I laughed because, when I’m fortunate enough to go to the Iowa State Fair, I make a beeline for the deep fried cheese curds. I have owned, and worn, a Christmas sweater. I have had an overambitious-predawn-driveway -scrapin neighbor. I have cut my own sutures…more than once.
And, I was 22 years old before I knew a black person.
Also, wonderfully, the poem made me realize the moon looks different in different places. Here in the Sierra Huautla the moon rolls and probes like a searchlight, but over the corn stumped fields of Iowa, and in the caverns of the Chicago Loop ; I have seen it “change and shine”… just “like television”.

What does the moon look like in your neck of the woods?