Vanessa Shields's Blog, page 44

Poem 75 – Etymology of Dead Line

Etymology of Dead Line

curiosity about the etymology
of the word deadline leads me
to a black & white photo
dated August 1864 of the
Burial Detail at Andersonville
Confederate Prison for Soldiers

‘dead line’ the space between
life & death the confluence
of the River Breath & the River
No Breath – a rough passage

around the prison this line so
frightfully dug – dirt rising in
waiting graves piles no man
should pass lest he want to
meet his Maker

a choice perhaps considerable
when life is confined & freedom
inside the body only

I am committed now to releasing
this word from the prison of
my vernacular for it holds a
history too gruesome for its
slippery turn to mean a time
to deliver a poem or two

my point was to tell you I missed
a deadline – to joke about the
sound of it whooshing by but
that sound is a bullet tearing
past my ear I’m lucky to
survive to be able to submit
a poem or two by some other
date & time – to get in
to hand over to fulfill

to live up to said line

The Set List

Yesterday I spent the day finalizing my ‘set list’ for my virtual book launch. It was an emotional journey…reaching back into the deeps of my Nonna’s life, legacy…and the loss of her. And, my body is feeling it too, manifesting the nerves and the sadness as an unhappy colitis gut. I’m taking it slow today. Taking my medicine…breathing deeply. Oh, honouring the words…their meanings…their extensions into our lives can be…well, today, a task to take slowly.

If you’re yearning for a writing community to join on-line, please consider Firefly Creative Writing. Their spring offerings are just what the writing doctor ordered! Click here for the amazing details. Costs vary, but many offerings are free or donation-based. The Firefly family is super generous and soul-sharing. You’ll feel that gush of joy sharing writing with them!

Thank you to all those who’ve shared, ‘liked’ and commented on the book trailer! Jett is thrilled with all the amazing feedback! #feelingbiglove

Poem 74 – scared/sacred

scared/sacred
for Janet

rising in the darkness
ink into journal pages

a demon woman
a starving child
a new moon miracle

witnessing pink strands in
the azure sky lifting up
the golden light

unfurling into this day
a little scared but
aware that a small change
changes everything

So, I worked all day creating my virtual book tour page and including the beautiful book trailer that Jett made…and then I saw that the book trailer was a link…not the actual video when I sent out the post. Hmmmm. Why did that happen?! I know that these days that extra click can be all it takes to throw us into a tech-rage. My apologies if that happened to anyone. That link wasn’t in the post as I created it! In any case, it happened, and I’m/we’re still thrilled with the video. Jett and I snapped a selfie last night to show our joy….

Me and my son, Jett (aka Goose)

I can’t not burst out laughing when I see this picture. He gave me permission to post it. That pose? That’s his Jett pose – eyes closed yet stunned and happy. He does this pose in nearly every photo he takes. We laugh so hard. Oh, such fun, such love. May we all make funny faces and laugh together looking at them! Happy Monday!

OFFICIAL TOUR PAGE & BOOK TRAILER!

I am so super excited (and happily weepy!) to present this book trailer. It was conceived, created, shot and edited by my son, Jett Shields. He captures the heart and love story that is ‘thimbles’. Thank you, Goose!

VIRTUAL TOUR PAGE GOES LIVE!

I am thrilled to present the official tour page for the Thimbles virtual book tour! I am honoured to be sharing poetry and screen time with writers and creators from across North America! From Detroit to Philadelphia to New York to Halifax to Western Bay to Victoria to Montreal and to Windsor/Essex County – we will be celebrating poetry!

For the most up-to-date information, zoom links, and exciting news, please visit the official tour page. It is located in the top menu bar of my website as well as here in this post!

CLICK ON THE LINK NOW AND DISCOVER THE VIRTUAL TOUR!

ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY!

Pre-orders are available now on the Palimpsest Press site. Please click here!

If you would like me to sign your copy at the virtual launch, please send me an email and let me know! I’d love to see you there and sign your book for you ‘live’! (email: shieldsvanessa@gmail.com)

PALIMPSEST PRESS IS THE BEST!

(Hey, that rhymes!) Thank you so very much to the amazing team at Palimpsest Press – Aimee, Louie and Kristina – who I’ve been driving absolutely bonkers with all my requests and communications. I am so grateful to be a member of the Palimpsest family!

Poem 73 – Sprang Forward

Sprang Forward

I sprang forward & forgot to write this poem
lost an hour but gained a Facetime lovefest with a dearly missed friend

ate lunch: leftover Chinese food & scrambled eggs
a devoured Cadbury creme egg

& sitting to begin work I realize this poem still needed to be written
all hail the things we forget but then remember

…and now I get to work on an important secret…

Happy Sunday!

Poem 72 – Memories Triggered in Linen

Memories Triggered in Linen

teal linen card stock square
I find in the bread basket
among the cement-hard crumbs
broken plastic date tags 
moldy bread blanketed in
a furry shade of green

naked in bathroom
hand-written on the paper
I crumple before I remember
what moments are held
in the words

I open the card
re-open the wound
feel it seep into my palm

that day in the bathroom with no door

me naked in the tub
the man walking up the stairs
door frame naked
me naked
me twelve
him    a grown up a stranger

this poem 
exposed &
falling
apart
like I was
like I did 

keep the card stock
tuck it in a journal
re-bury the memory
in my graveyard 
of childhood trauma

wonder why this message
in the bread basket arrived
on the soft blue morning 
of this day 

why teal? why linen?
why no door?

Poem 71 – My Son, the Passionate Shepherd

My Son, the Passionate Shepherd

Oh what a joy when this poet’s son
reveals his choice for his grade nine
poetry recitation

Oh what divinity when he stands tall
yawps out Christopher Marlowe’s
‘The Passionate Shepherd to his Love’

as I fold clothes in the cobwebbed 
laundry room   my back to his words
because he’s shy for me to watch him

Oh what heart’s explosion
to know that of all the poems
this poet’s son chooses love

Marlowe’s love in epic love expression
as I bid him farewell on this
dewy Friday morning this poet jokes

Oh how the herd will swoon as you
pronounce this outpouring of love
his cheeks crimson and his eyes roll

But he hugs me tightly and I thank 
him profusely for falling into poetry’s 
romantic landscapes as he walks

Away toward school
oh what grand ignition
this passion for love

In this poet’s son – I yell behind him
come live with me and be my love!
he turns back and waves

Of course he does
this poet’s son
he turns back and waves

The story in the above poem happened last night and this morning. I’m still reeling with joy! And my son is in his English class reciting Christopher Marlowe’s incredible poem The Passionate Shepherd to his Love. You can read it here: The Passionate Shepherd to his Love. Thank you to English teachers everywhere for keeping poetry alive in their classrooms! Thank you to Poetry in Voice, Canada’s extraordinary recitation and poetry hub, for creating a space to connect kids with poetry and poets with kids and poetry to the world – and making it cool as all heck!

I can say without hesitation that I fall into the realm of parents who sometimes choose to live vicariously through their children! On this day…when my son recites a love poem with confidence and skill though…this is pretty special. Poetry holds a very special place in our lives/home. And he chose this beautiful love poem of the hundreds he could have chosen. I’m so proud! Also, it’s so fun to jest with him about swooning classmates and the forthcoming experiences with love I know he will have. Sigh.

To love poetry! To love! To Friday!

The Allie Sunshine Project is hosting another four-week course. If you’re interested, here are the details!

Springtime Wellness Series

Connected Living, Nurturing the Spirit through Nature

Time to Come Alive!

Join us in exploring and learning from nature, guided by local naturalists, gardeners, guides, and nature lovers. We will engage in activities with soil, crystals, seeds, woodlots, buds, birds, fresh air, stillness, and peaceful reflection.

Offered on Wednesday evenings in April, from 6:30 to 8:30. The first two sessions will be via zoom. Weeks three and four will be in person, with social distancing and masks required, provided outdoor gatherings are allowed at that time.

Limited to 10 participants.

Wellness Series fee: four wks.: $120.00 due with registration (includes materials).

To reserve your spot, Email Lynn Hayes at: lhayes@thealliesunshineproject.com

Schedule:

Week 1, April 7: Hands in the Soil: Garden Planning

Facilitated by Brandi Bechard of Ground Culture

We will cover the basics of how to plan, prepare and enjoy a garden that is tailored to your unique space and needs. (zoom meeting)

Week 2, April 14: Introduction to the Chakras with Tracey Rogers of White Feather Holistic Arts

We will be learning what chakras are, and how paying attention to them can improve our health and wellness. (zoom meeting)

Week 3, April 21: Forest Therapy in the Allie Sunshine Project Healing Garden

Guest Facilitator Jessica Middleton, Certified Forest Therapy Guide will guide us to meditative connections in a diverse natural setting. Location: 252 West Pike Creek Rd. Lakeshore

Week 4, April 28: Woods Walk and Plant Identification with Brandi Bechard

Learn how to identify some familiar plant species that you would commonly find on a walk in the woods. Location: Devon Woods, Division Rd. Windsor

Series will be Facilitated by Lynn Hayes, Education Guide of The Allie Sunshine Project

And here’s a special shout out to writer Tracey who yesterday held her official proof for her forthcoming memoir! The Gertrude’s Writing Room family and community congratulates you!

Poem 70 – I Am My Words

I Am My Words

capable
ready
hungry
sore
afraid
cautious
giddy
tired
pensive
hopeful
guilty
horny
anxious 
slow
attentive

cardstock –
wrinkled & edge-torn
hole-hollowed
protected by poetry

My first official ‘thimbles’ interview was so fun! I had a wonderful conversation with Adam from the Windsor Public Library. Thank you, Adam! I was nervous, but Adam helped me feel able and confident, and we had a really beautiful conversation about poetry, love, life. Really, I am grateful that my first jaunt into the world of ‘the book tour’ went swimmingly! This was a pre-recorded interview that will be shown in National Poetry Month – that’s April! We’ll share the when and how to view it in April. Thank you, Adam!

Here’s a pic of my home set-up.

I filled one notebook of poetry! Writing a poem a day is proving to be a super inspiring and challenging endeavour. But I tell you, it sure does feel great to fill a book with poems!

And here is the new notebook:

I have some very exciting news to share about my book…something beautiful and heartwarming to share…coming this weekend! Hip! Hip! Hooray!

Oh, and how could I forget (!), a grand thank you to the Detroit Writing Room for featuring me on their socials for their Wednesday Writers profiles! Check your Insta for the interview!

Happy Thursday, all. I can smell the weekend…can you? It’s mixed in with the wet earth and coming rain smell…take a whiff outside!

Poem 69 – Haiku for my future self on my next birthday

Haiku for my future self on my next birthday

birthing continues
wrinkles are Time’s poetry
reflections matter

This evening I have the first ‘official’ interview for ‘thimbles’! I’m nervous! I will be interviewed by Adam from the Windsor Public Library for its ‘book talk’ series. The interview will air in April (I’ll let you know when, of course!). Last night I prepared by choosing several poems to read and by making notes about the journey of the book itself.

I’ve created a rehearsal schedule for a special video I’m making for the book launch, and the date for the video recording is coming up quickly. Every day I’m spending time preparing for the launch. My tummy feels always filled with butterflies; they are gentle but they are constant!

The biggest challenge I’m facing is being able to read and share the poetry without crying. After my first rehearsal, I fell to the floor weeping like my Nonna had passed all over again. Grief is still very alive and though I do a good job of ignoring her…the poems pull her out of hiding and she squeezes my throat into a flood of tears.

This is happening, and it’s important to me, and it’s all for my deep devotion and love for my Nonna. The book is past its ‘blue page’ stage and pushing ink into pages in printing.

Thank you to Deb Hill for her beautiful words about ‘thimbles’ that she posted on Goodreads.

“i found her dressmaker’s shears while she was sleeping/i cut into her past & freed up her laughter” (p. 44)

I loved it! Thimbles is Vanessa Shields’s best poetry collection to date. Her work not only explores a new maturity in subject matter but her use of the sewing and mountain themes and motifs beautifully stitch together the narrative thread of her 94 poems.

At first, I wasn’t sure I would be able to handle another book about grief especially during the pandemic lockdown, but Shields’s poetic tribute to her nonna read like a well-crafted novel. Divided into three sections: un bacon d’amor; only the good lasts; and domain e un alter giorno, the work pulls in the reader with the introduction of nonna as child, teen, seamstress, and mother and then builds on family relationships, followed by the challenges of her dementia and her family’s reactions to her demise.

“she is threads of light” (p. 83) “dimples like the tip of a thimble” (p. 83)

Heartwarming, tender, personal! A colour-coordinated patchwork of lyrical emotions! Hear my applause!

Thank you everyone for your support thus far! Happy writing!

Poem 68 – A Witness in the Round Tells Us What He Saw

A Witness in the Round Tells Us What He Saw

Let me set the scene:

A purple dusk
hazy with lust
sweaty bodies
anxious for touch
music making moments
feel like lifetimes

A piece of starlight
takes the centre of the round
her body bathed in rhythm
pulling the moon toward her
in the jealous sky

His feet rushed toward her
like water thirsting for the shore
the crowd parted when his hand
landed on the planet of her
writhing hip – we were mesmerized

They danced the dance of
jilted lovers of romeos & juliets
of tango urgency & waltz’ slow smoulder
it was no lie their language became lava
as Time burned caution in a rage of desire

I saw them leave
her fingers reaching for
the nearest shadows
his eyes to the dusty floor
as she pulled him to her
silky destiny

The round sighed with salty
relief & the moon looked away
embarrassed

It was too late
as three am lifted
her flared skirt to the
curious wind
the weight of the
lovers’ breaths tangled
in the shivering leaves
holding vigil at the tips
of peeping branches

What I know is what I saw
two beings tethered & torched
by the rapture of song
an undeniable connection
chemical electric soul-savage
beyond the body but the
body the only entrance
to that kind of love

Friends, I’ve always been fascinated with Michael Jackson’s song Billie Jean. I heard it on the radio this morning as I was driving us to work and school. I remembered my idea to write about the song…feeling compelled for some inexplicable reason to write about what happened ‘in the round’. This is the poem that tells a version of that fictional night…

Here is the song with lyrics.

May we always consider the lives of the characters in the music we love. They are incredible prompts for writing.

In other news, I’ve handed in our tax info with massive relief. Preparing paperwork for taxes completely rearranges my energy and brain electricity into a gnarly monster. I’m glad that is over. Also, if anyone was feeling completely lost and bonkers yesterday…so was I.

I’ve got a very exciting book treat coming very soon….

And now…I’m off to the world of magic to work on my novel.

Happy writing!

Poem 67 – Kenojuak Ashevak, Inuit Artist

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY!

Kenojuak Ashevak, Inuit Artist

her art is alive     dancing 
on the edges of every blink & focus
tethering sight to the soul & yanking –  kindly

she transfers the land & animals
the above & the below  the centre & the deep
into the matrix holding images carved & coloured
in perfect pressure harmony – the reflection of
an impression that breathes beyond its surface

her creativity blooms from family & the arc
of Time as it splays itself playfully from the
spaces in her body & spirit that were born to
connect     the people to the place to the 
necessary now of the tumbling thunder that is art 

her face is moon wrinkles sparking 
sparkling holding the rhythm of the 
qilautik – her stamina a direct descendant
of the caribou skin wrapped katuk

behold  behold her enchanted owl 
her rabbit eating seaweed her wolves
in spring & all the gracious others – metamorphose
meaningfully    magically    give thanks

I wrote this poem for Mariette, who requested a poem on demand about Kenojuak Ashevak. Thank you, Mariette, for bringing this incredible artist into our life…and for those who already knew of her magnificence, do share her!

Research:

https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/kenojuak-ashevak

An Inuit Drum

Join Mariette Jones on Facebook Live every Monday in March as she share her Love Speaks messages. Starting today at 12:30pm, Mariette will give a short, inspiring talk that ends with a call to action for International Women’s Day!

Today is International Women’s Day! There will be many events and celebrations all day…all week, perhaps even all month! Today I will send love and gratitude messages to women I admire and love. I will continue to read and watch and educate myself about the women who have come before me, the women who are here now and thriving for the betterment of women’s rights and equality, and I will commit to being the best, kindest, compassionate woman, mother, sister, friend, leader, writer I can be.