Vanessa Shields's Blog, page 42
April 5, 2021
Poem 95 – Moving tombs
Moving tombs
Cairo’s streets shift into
light-laden pathways for pharaoh
tombs on the move
A slow-paced spectacle of
twenty-two royal mummies
serenaded by symphony & song
paraded along the Nile corniche
to a new resting place
Ramses II & Hatshepsut
arms folded in time
over chests unmoving
under camera’s eyes in
vehicles made to mimic
death boats – surely there
is a stirring…
And the Curse flits
like a lullaby on solemn lips
in stormy shades thrown daggers
on the people – a ship stuck
in a canal a virus toiling in blood
trains colliding on their tracks
These dead do not want to be moved
even under grand pomp
no circumstance is too noble
for pharaoh grave migration
Or maybe… Hatshepsut
her fine ghostly form
sits atop her mimic boat
stroking her fake beard in
contemplation – her legacy
already once nearly erased
Some 3000 years later she flexes
her muscles waves
adoration putting pause
on any of her cursing
Research for this poem:
NPM – Egyptian Poets
To read poetry written by Egyptian poets, CLICK HERE.
“I am the sea in its guts. The pearl is lurking. So did they ask the diver about my shells”
– Hafez Ibraham
Photo: Hatshepsut
SUBMISSION CALL!
The 36th Banister Poetry Contest
Dr. Elspeth Cameron will be this year’s judge for the Niagara Branch of Canadian Authors Association poetry contest, open to residents of Ontario. All poems must be in English and not under consideration elsewhere. Entry fee is $15 for up to three poems and $4 for each additional poem. Number of entries is unlimited. Prizes are: 1st prize: $300; 2nd prize: $200; 3rd prize: $100. Please feel free to share this information with your writing groups and friends. Stay safe. Stay sane.
For details: www.canauthorsniagara.org/poetry-contest/ Deadline is May 31st, 2021
EEP! The countdown continues…
Though I think I posted this one yesterday…! In any case, check out the tour page HERE. The registration link for the Detroit Writing Room event in June is up and running.
Sorry for the delay in the link for the launch. It’s coming!
Thank you to all those who sent best wishes on my Facebook page! OOOO, I feel the love!
(And, I’m sorry for the weird link for the video…it looks embedded when I make the posts…but then in the email, it’s a weird link. I don’t get technology.)
April 4, 2021
Poem 94 – New Book Hangover & Book Reveal!
new book hangover
more like hang on
I clutched her to my pounding chest
most of the day – placed her gently
on a counter
the table
always in eyes’ delight sight
in arm’s caress hand’s press
now
my heart is bound paper
poetry in fine linen
pages aflutter
Yesterday was an incredible day! I met my dear publisher Aimee at Gertrude’s Writing Room and we opened a box of ‘thimbles’ books!
After unloading and my yelping and squealing, we settled in for me to sign some books…
Oh, I’m just so happy I can’t even talk! Just smile and smile and smile! Those who’ve put orders in should be receiving signed copies in the post soon. I have copies as well, so now you can purchase them directly from me, if you’d like. If you’d like me to sign your copy at the launch, just let me know. I will also sign copies that will go in the post too.
Thank you so much, Aimee and the Palimpsest Press family! I’m just…overflowing with joy and gratefulness!
HIP-HOP HAPPY EASTER!
Do enjoy the treats that come your way today! We’re heading to play outside, go for a bike ride and suck in the gorgeous Spring air!
April 3, 2021
Poem 93 – Book In My Hands
Book In My Hands
This birthing
emotional spectrum
from stardust to deep earth to seed to trunk to tree
the heavy pressing into pages
oh the holding of Time – inked
A book
the galaxy of its giving
its open-hearted taking
the glorious exchange between writer & reader
the tongue the ear the sounds of life delivered
the feasting on story
the obesity of love
IT’S BOOK DAY!
Today I get to open a box of freshly printed copies of ‘thimbles’! Yay! I’ll be sure to capture the joyous occasion and share it with you! Thank you Palimpsest Press for making this poet’s dreams come true!
NPM READ THIS…
How Poetry Can Change Your Heart by Andrea Gibson and Megan Falley.
April 2, 2021
Poem 91 – A Memory Shows Itself
A Memory Shows Itself
it was a saturday & I was home alone
I blared Michael Jackson from the expensive stereo
system I wasn’t supposed to touch
I dusted & vacuumed clad only in white underpants
I danced like no one was watching except someone was
a stranger walking by in the alley – stopped to stare
through the framed by sliding doors of glass
at a 12-year-old girl startled & scared
a botched Botticelli with hair not long enough to
cover her budding breasts I crumbled
crawled into the kitchen & hid behind the rounded counter
the tall heel of white formica cold against my naked spine
BIG NEWS! ‘Thimbles’ has arrived from the printers! Tomorrow I’ll get to open the box and hold a hard copy for the first time! Yahoo! Don’t worry…I’ll make a video and share the joy!
#NPM – THE RIVER ANSWERS by Jude Neale
Jude Neale’s latest collection of poetry draws its beauty from the vulnerable centre of pandemic life – missing each other, our physical connections, nature and her gifts to us if we open our hearts to receive them…Neale’s poetry kind and accessible but not without a ferocity that calls us into the action of deep-diving into spaces that make us uncomfortable or give us pain. “How do you move from death to death and not sag from sorrow?” she asks…”For the witness and the afflicted carry the same story of this dreadful finality.” (From ‘It All Came To Pass, pg. 40, The River Answers, Ekstasis Editions, 2021
You can purchase a copy of Jude’s new book HERE.
READ THIS TOO.
The Pull of Stars by Emma Donahue. Canadian writer Emma Donoghue makes magic with the stars in this incredible story about a nurse making miracles during the influenza outbreak in Ireland in 1918. A uncanny telling that holds up mirrors to today’s pandemic experience.
AND ALSO, READ THIS.
Jillian Boehme’s latest fantasy YA is an adventure in love, self-empowerment, magic and healing. May there always be a bit of Maralyth Graylaern in each of us! A strong, vulnerable, honest and empowered heroine, it was a joy joining Maralyth on her journey. A fierce telling of an engaging story that felt like a contemporary fairytale.
What poetry did you read yesterday? I hope it lifted your soul!
April 1, 2021
Poem 91 – Inter & NPM & Countdown Begins!
Inter (between)
inked between a crime and a virus
the poet drops her pen so she can pull out her hair
the brass plaque stolen Mary Bibb storming in her grave
what kind of person steals a plaque? Mary knows having
thundered against them every day of her life and death now too
the flurry of rescheduling moving beds loading school books
into bursting back packs – these weights we’re carrying on the
back of the biting laughter of an invisible shape-shifter strengthening
in the gory glory of our weaknesses
mollitia sit virtus
resilience is power
put the plaque back! – the poet cursives then screams
throws her hair at the mirror
words are different for the virus it doesn’t care about language
it knows only violent survival the claws of it the determined fury
she stabs her pen into paper staking her claim in the frothy hope
of a future she keeps alive by writing poetry it’s not enough
verba refert
words matter
right? right?
The Countdown Begins!
Happy April, friends! The countdown to my virtual launch officially begins! Plans are progressing well with confirmed dates for interviews as well as events. You can stay tuned to all the delicious details that are posted on my website: www.vanessashields.com.
Tomorrow I meet with the PR team and we hash out the marketing plan as well as finalize all the links for zooms. Yay! Thank you for your patience!
Those of you who have already purchased a book for pre-sale THANK YOU! The books have not yet arrived, but as soon as they do, you’ll know because you’ll hear me yelp and yawp with joy.
IT’S NATIONAL POETRY MONTH!
Today begins a month dedicated to the vast and voluptuous world of poetry! Do remember to read poetry every day! A poem a day keeps the doctor away! It’s true! Here are some links to incredible poetry websites:
A Hundred Falling Veils – Poetry by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
I’m still taking requests for Poetry on Demand…so far, no one has requested a poem! Ha. It’s all good. But if you’d like me to write you a poem, send me an email with some words or a theme, and I’ll let you know the date I’ll be posting your poem. (Email: shieldsvanessa@gmail.com. – please put ‘Poetry on Demand Request’ in the subject line.)
March 31, 2021
Poem 90 – Style
Style
silver rings
pulling & shining with diamond dust
use – fingers flailing or holding or feeling heat
cold the wetness of transformation
moonstone & pearl
red jeans thigh tight
but flexible single roll hem
secrets bundled inside & legacies too
two necklaces
mala & lapis for pause & prayer
infinite circles rubbing heart centre
protective singing
earrings that dangle or giggle turtles
rainbows feathers roses
earlobe seats for the theatre
of the face
full round red-cheeked emotional
weeping laughing curling in confusion
hiding behind smiles
breaking out in vulnerability
dimples for dreaming
boots
scarves
pins: book-ish best seller read more
short hair grey white flecks of dark
long enough to cover nipples
perhaps one day
brave
terrified stacked in vertebrae
spine curling into punctuation
roaring
whispering
mini skirts
curly armpit hair
hippy boho wild
timid turtleneck black
stripes
sweaters
naked
naked
naked
Tune in this evening for Dream Poet for Hire Marshall James Kavanaugh’s book launch! Marshall does his own version of poetry on demand – all around the world! He and I will be talking poetry in June as part of my virtual book tour, so I thought it might be a rad idea for y’all to catch his book launch this evening to feel and hear his amazing poetry!
Here are the details:
March 31st at 8PM EST for the online release party for #TravelByHaiku!
Click THIS LINK to RSVP.
The show is FREE to attend. You need to RSVP to get the Zoom link. With your ticket, you can also purchase a signed copy of the new book.
The night will include a dynamic range of spoken word, music, live puppetry, dance, and video art performances by @marianmclaughlin, @lindoyes, @cookietonguemusic, @righteoustpoet, @amberreneepoet, @juliadayedot, @typewritertroubadour, @ladyvalore, @seraphicromancerotstruth, @lakeswholelakes, @jafarbarron, @gardensforthelush, @movedtomove and Ethan Foote, @titwillo, @b.l.stern, @__streetrat, @thegreatbard, @gusplusgus, @magiccabaretprojects, @breadfrown, & so much more. (at Rittenhouse Square)
https://www.instagram.com/p/CNEJMHxDE_3/?igshid=1v4gtsiwje56a
Dream Poet for Hire Marshall James Kavanaugh
March 30, 2021
Poem 89 – Tears
tears
there are always enough tears
gathering in the brooks
splaying from my soul
meandering searching rushing
expressing the languages of love
that hold everything unconditionally
even when my heart is a concrete dam
the tears make way
erode erupt offer me something
to feel to taste to discover
there are always enough tears
this is my love language today
March 29, 2021
Poem 88 – The Almost Guest
The Almost Guest
I dream I’m the guest on The Tonight Show starring Jimmy Fallon. A tall twenty-something with a headset & desperate eyes rushes me to a messy backstage then commotion & denial. Sorry, you’ve been bumped, from a different twenty-something – this one holding a clipboard & a cell phone. She doesn’t let me see her eyes. I shrink into a shadow. Witness an entourage & a famous actor saunter into old set dec & thick dirty ropes. A chair appears out of nowhere so the male star can wait in comfort. He sits with his crotch wide open like a thirsty mouth. I grip a cold light stand so I don’t fall down. No one sees me. I barely see myself just a shivering twig in the reflection of a full-length mirror on wheels, a zig zag crack in the centre cutting my face like a scar. An uproar of laughter makes dust leap in the air around me. I watch it dazzle in the beam of a spotlight.
ONE MONTH FROM TODAY!
My virtual book launch is officially one month from today! I can’t believe that after 2.5 years (!), ‘thimbles’ is so close to delivery! I’m meeting with the team this week to finalize details for zoom links and other exciting marketing fun! Stay tuned!
CONFESSIONS…
I know why I had the dream I wrote about in today’s poem. This happens. It happens…a lot. More than I like to admit but I’m admitting it because…well, maybe if I share it, it’ll stop having so much power in my mind and body. I have these dreams about being famous. These vivid movies play in my mind where I tour the world, being interviewed by late-night show hosts and important journalists. I read on fancy stages to sold-out crowds and the sound of clapping and cheering sticks to me like perfume you can’t buy in any store. I have red or gold or white circle award stickers on my book covers. I get a book deal to write a book about writing. There’s money in the bank. My agent is funny and wise, and my publisher is kind and supportive. I’ve finally created a writing schedule that is mindful and productive, mostly because I’ve hired a chef who preps, cooks and cleans up meals for me and my family. I still live in the same house, drive the same car, wear the same clothes…but that underlying desperation for peer validation has shrunk to the size of a thumbtack. Still pokey, but way smaller. Manageable.
I make the cover of Poets & Writers magazine with a full feature spread inside. I finally get hired to teach at my alma mater. I get an office with a window. I start a poetry festival and a small press. I finally don’t let the Demon Woman in my head tell me I’m fat because I’m too busy feeling great, important, empowered and happy. As I write this, I contemplate how so much gets attached to one dream. How that one dream can roll and fatten into every part of my life.
But at its core, I think, this dream to be ‘famous’ is rooted in a hole of lack. There’s a big part of me that believes I’m not ‘enough’. I don’t deserve to be published, much less win an award or grace the cover of a magazine. I feel vain, silly, egotistical and shy. I feel guilty. I know it’s vital to dream. To dream impossible dreams because that’s the only way they can live and breathe…and happen. I argue with myself about having parts of this dream at all. I rage at myself for making an ‘honourable mention’ carry less meaning than a third-place win, and I cringe at myself when I read about another writer and see her ‘she’s been published in…she’s the winner of…’ and my immediate, physical reaction is ‘she’s so lucky…why am I not published there…winning those awards’…It’s a hot mess that makes my bones feel like wax. I can’t stand up and cheer for said ‘other writers’ when my bones are folding me inward.
Then there’s the colour of my skin, my privilege and my identity that has never felt quite part of me…as weird as that sounds or looks…feeling that I belong is always a mountain range to face. Many times, I remain roaming in the forest at the foot of the climb. All of these…emotions and movies getting riled up because my book is crowning. My comparison beast is punching me in the heart and gut. I get weak. I get lost. I get sad. I feel ‘shoulds’ stapling to my skin, so many I can’t see myself at all some days.
So this is where the Fallon dream originates. I’m not saying not to dream, oh heavens no! I’m not saying that my desires don’t matter or I’m not grateful for everything and everyone in my life. Double heavens no! What I’m saying is that part of my process as a writer includes navigating the gory details of self-worth. Today feels like an operating room and I’m the surgeon and the patient. Can I insert a dose of self-love into my arm? Can I find my soul and give it a little more life support? Can I trust my skills as a Surgeon of the Self and give myself permission to have the ideas I have? The doubts? The passion? The joy?
Do I really want to be ‘famous’? I don’t know. I feel like that term…that construct seems to fit the level of validation that hole of lack inside me wants. Perhaps what I really desire are the opportunities that are born with certain kinds of recognition…perhaps it’s a specific part of the ‘system’ I want to be involved in…ooo. I feel like I’m drowning and I’m the water I’m choking on. The surgeon and the patient. The water and the drowning…
This is today.
“The real difficulty is to overcome how you think about yourself.”
Maya Angelou
March 28, 2021
Poem 87 – Storm Chips
Storm chips
for Charis in Western Bay, Newfoundland when a storm is coming
the furor of nature likes to whip & lash
the dramatic landscapes – the armies of trees
the sassy coastlines the ancient rocks the ghostly
barrens – Western Bay looks like land clawed
by a tantruming beast or a nibble out of the
lush coast by a lost & lazy Longnose Gar
wind & rain snow & sleet pelt ocean tops & bay bellies
in forceful torrents torturing Time – twisting it into
segments of survival and behold!
Another storm approaches!
The hue and cry of Sky’s raucous yawp gathers!
Ready the wood stove!
Haul in the chop!
Bake the raisin bread!
Boil the water!
And, OH! Gather the storm chips posthaste!
Lays Dill Pickle
Miss Vickie’s Sea Salt
Cheese Doritos – choose a flavour
Consider the crunch
But darling – do not forget the storm chips!
Learn more about Western Bay, Newfoundland Here.
Learn more about the Longnose Gar Here.
What storm chips are you going to buy?
March 27, 2021
Poem 86 – Leave the Mess
Leave the Mess
leaving the mess inside
to plant Forget-Me-Nots & Nasturtium
in pots to hang hooks & flagpoles
one big blue star
a sign that reads: This Is Our Happy Place
later I’ll smell the sun in my skin
its dusty comfort
the dirt under my nails
will sing the song of earth settling in
the mess inside will wait
gathering itself
humming
Psst. Here’s a pic of my book…the gorgeous end-page…She’s off to the printers! Weeeeee!
