Motif

Category: Poetry

  • Relent

    When the asking is over

    And solitude is decided

    By you, others or the universe

    What remains is pure

    Fire

    Pursed lips on sweet wine

    Thoughts all your own

    “Come see me” say you to the darkness

    “Come and get me if you dare”

    For I know you

    Better than you know yourself

    Better than anyone knows

    And you do not scare me anymore

    Your solitude does not scare me

    Your self doubt does not scare me

    Your promises that I am not extraordinary but just mundane and not deserving of self love does not scare me

    I have treaded these waters before

    I have shed the floaties and life preserver you made me once think I needed

    My training wheels have long been rusting somewhere in the back of my mind

    I am here … undeniably yours to challenge

    Come and get me

    I have fire

    What say you?

    ~tjw

  • Fueling The Fire

    Fueling The Fire

    The same fire that keeps the wolves at bay 

    alerts them to your presence 

    The same fire that pushes away the darkness 

    makes the shadows dance 

    The same fire that feeds off the air 

    is threatened by the wind 

    that heats the night 

    is hindered by the cold 

    How do you keep the fire going, knowing this? 

    Where do you find the fuel? 

    How do you stay alight 

    in a world that wants to consume you 

      blind you 

      freeze you through & through? 

    How do you keep afire in a wet 

          cold 

          dark 

          dangerous world? 

    I’ve been searching for would 

    but I can’t see the forest for the trees 

    I’ve run out of gas 

    My wick is too burned out to catch 

    & the alcohol 

    is too dangerous a fuel 

    makes the fire unstable 

    burns more than intended 

    I don’t like to depend on it 

    So, I remain lost in the wilderness 

    fire falling 

          failing 

          flickering to fain embers 

    searching for the fuel to keep it going in this cold world 

    but I am all wet 

          shivering 

          sore 

          weak 

          ready 

      to let the wolves consume 

        the darkness surround me 

        the weather wear me down 

          ready to let the fire die 

    I know a phoenix egg incubates in the embers 

    but the fire is a double-edged sword 

    & I’m afraid of pacing wolves & dancing shadows 

        of going deeper into wilderness with no paths     of burning myself again 

    & of darkness yet to come 

    I haven’t seen sunshine in months 

    I wonder if it will ever come 

    I wonder how long I can wait 

    how long I can hold out 

      hold on 

    how long I can last 

    lost in the wilderness 

    afraid of a fire that both saves me 

    & enslaves me 

        indebts me to its existence 

        exposes me to dangers 

        torments me with shadows 

        taunts me with its frailty 

    afraid of a fire 

    that burns 

    Knowing this, 

    how do you keep the fire going?  

    Jason E. “Jay” Walker

  • Perennials, Part VI

    Black girl magic 
    And the mystical magical 
    negro 
    They sound related
    don’t they?

    When you dig 
    more deeply 
    though, 
    you realize that Black girls 
    labeled magic 
    are recognized 
    for the way they marry 
    Intellect, flexibility 
    and accomplishment. 

    The magical negro is viewed 
    skeptically 
    for the way they display 
    these same things 
    assumed to be fixed 
    when the evidence shows 
    flexible, 
    knowledgeable 
    when learning is 
    constantly being sought
    and satisfied 
    as though accomplishment 
    Only comes in singles. 

    Hugs to all of the magical 
    negroes, 
    for it is assumed that we need 
    No more

    Trust me 
    I know

    Take that
    Perennials

  • Nicolella, Gamache named youth poetry ambassador, deputy: Annual appointments resume in 2022 after pandemic hiatus

    Nicolella, Gamache named youth poetry ambassador, deputy: Annual appointments resume in 2022 after pandemic hiatus

    Lourdes Nicolella of the Moses Brown School, 2022 youth poetry ambassador. (Photo: RI Center for the Book)

    Lourdes Nicolella of the Moses Brown School has been selected as youth poetry ambassador and Adi Gamache of the Met School has been selected as deputy youth poetry ambassador for 2022 by Poet Laureate Tina Cane, the RI Center for the Book announced in a statement. Adam Fontaine of Smithfield High School and Cyprus Weaver of Westerly High School received honorable mentions.

    “This initiative is designed to bring more poetry directly to our state’s youth and to inspire young people through example. Just as the state poet laureate position symbolically affirms Rhode Island’s support of poetry, the youth poetry ambassador is meant to validate and support the creative potential of our young people,” said center director Kate Lentz in a statement.

    The deputy collaborates with the ambassador and performs any duties in her stead should she be unavailable.

    Nicolella is a senior at the Moses Brown School where she serves as the editor-in-chief of the literary magazine, Omnia. Her goal as ambassador is to “create an inclusive youth literary community within RI, where young people of all different backgrounds are welcomed and encouraged to use their minds, hearts, and voices as a force for social justice.”

    Adi Gamache of the Met School, 2022 deputy youth poetry ambassador. (Photo: RI Center for the Book)

    Gamache said, “Being named the deputy youth poetry ambassador is an incredible opportunity which I will try my best to live up to. To be able to meet and learn and share one’s art with others is a gift few get. More than anything, what I want to do with my poetry is change – if only for a second – the way someone views the world. Perhaps that is how the world itself is changed – with dominoes of repeated hope.”

    A launch and reading celebration will take place at the State House Library in late February. Nicolella and Gamache will participate in poetry readings with other youths at additional library events to be announced.

    Nicolella will receive a $250 cash prize and an opportunity to record a reading for Cane’s distance reading series “Poetry Is Bread.” Gamache will receive a $100 cash prize. Both will have the opportunity for their poetry to be featured on RIPTA buses as part of the “Poetry in Motion” series.

    The 2022 appointments will be the fourth annual (except for a two-year term during the pandemic), following previous ambassador Moira Flath and deputy ambassador Kiani Sincere-Pope (2018), ambassador Catherine Sawoski and deputy ambassador Tyler Cordeiro (2019), and ambassador Halima Ibrahim and deputy ambassador Eugenie Rose Belony (2020/2021).

  • Omarion Cometh

    “I’m here!”

    Door banging, stomping sneakers, 

    Loud shouts,

    Not the Inside Voice.

    Be Quiet

    T-shirt flung into a dark corner,

    Towel airborne, dirty shoes kicked — one here, one there

    Soon to be hunted.

    Be Still

    Water running, splashing waves, air gushing,

    Window slamming, then

    Silence.

    Outside, heads hurting, 

    Sore throats, raspy coughs, night sweats, lingering fatigue

    And yes, you know the drill.

    The body count, staggering hospital numbers and confusing directives

    And for those of us 

    Who can still breathe 

    Be Grateful

    “Omarion! Don’t forget to wash behind your ears and lotion them ashy knees!!”

  • A Reflection on [Mental] Health: January Poetry

    A fragile soul so young,

    A pleasure center numbed,

    How quick I was to hide inside my fears.

    The fear of age, rage, and misplaced trust,

    The fear of reopening wounds from familial — “musts”.

    Through a reflection of self,

    I greeted my demon with a smirk,

    For I knew the time had come to embrace self-care.

    Though I’ve worn down my heart strings and bent their frequency,

    Into meandering melodies craving consistency,

    I’ve found my soul,

    I’ve found my song,

    I’ve found my health,

    And my healing.

  • Poetry, #22 Silent Night…: From “The (chap) Book of the Dead”

    They said I must be out of my mind

    wanting to celebrate Christmas this year,

    that survival was all we had

    to be thankful for; that the stories

    were lies, and worse, hope was harm

    waiting to happen. I said, “Shut up

    both of you and open your presents.”

    See, Jenny used to talk all the time

    about this unbreakable composite bat

    she saw once. And it’s no surprise

    that Stevie’s jokes about shoveling

    the driveway with a flamethrower

    each winter wasn’t a kid’s dream

    of the perfect gift under the tree.

    Finding these things was hard enough,

    hiding them until the 25th? Almost

    impossible. But it gave me something

    to focus on other than death. My gift

    was seeing their faces look a little

    like before all this happened: normal.

    I won’t tell them how I risked myself

    raiding that strip mall out by the town,

    just to find canned milk for eggnog.

    The stocking are just socks, plain wool,

    but the handguns inside are the gifts

    that keep on giving. This year we have

    a small piece of a holiday we once took

    for granted. We enjoy our time together.

    …I’ll tell them about the bite tomorrow.

  • High School Student Poets: Apply to be RI youth poetry ambassador

    High School Student Poets: Apply to be RI youth poetry ambassador

    UPDATE: Results announced motifri.com/youth-poet-2022-results

    Seeking a youth poetry ambassador for 2022, the RI Center for the Book invites applications from high school students who reside in RI. State Poet Laureate Tina Cane will select an ambassador and deputy ambassador with results announced in January 2022.

    “This initiative is designed to bring more poetry directly to our state’s youth and to inspire young people through example. Just as the state poet laureate position symbolically affirms Rhode Island’s support of poetry, the youth poetry ambassador is meant to validate and support the creative potential of our young people,” said center director Kate Lentz in a statement.

    Depending upon the selected ambassador’s ability and availability, they will receive a $250 cash prize, a guest-writer spot in the Providence Journal “Second Sunday” poet laureate column, an opportunity to have poetry featured on RIPTA buses through the “Poetry in Motion” program, and an opportunity to record for Cane’s distance reading series, “Poetry is Bread.”

    Applicants must submit by December 15, 2021: a one- or two-paragraph statement on why the applicant would like to be considered for the position, a letter of support from a teacher or librarian, a letter of support from a peer, and two original poems. All parts of the application must be submitted together.

    Applications should be sent by e-mail to kate@ribook.org or by postal mail to Kate Lentz, RI Center for the Book, Pell Center, Salve Regina University, 100 Ochre Point Ave, Newport, RI 02840.

    The 2022 appointments will be the fourth annual (except for a two-year term during the pandemic), following previous ambassador Moira Flath and deputy ambassador Kiani Sincere-Pope (2018), ambassador Catherine Sawoski and deputy ambassador Tyler Cordeiro (2019), and ambassador Halima Ibrahim and deputy ambassador Eugenie Rose Belony (2020/2021).

  • The Four Turtles

    The Four Turtles

    by  Isaiah “Sleeping Turtle” Johnson

    The cloudy sky in my waking eyes is adorned with blue, gray, and white. The yellow sun blazed in full as I lay in the grass. Bodies of the Indigenous flooded the water. The Great Eagle soared the heavens as the eye of the storm opened at Manitou’s whim. I stood up and surveyed the four directions. The land curves and slithers upon the water like a serpent. The song of the eagle rings true and clear. Two men are in view, the Sagamore educates a Bay Colonist Man:

     “The Earth is our Mother for she gives us all we need to survive. The Sky is our Father; in our tongues, he is Wakan Tanka, Tunkashila, Gitche Manitou, Creator, he is of many names and is the Great Spirit! We pray to the Four Winds and the Four Directions. We are all Creator’s children, his Daughters, and Sons and we should never be fighting!” 

    In the hands of the Sagamore are the Four Turtles, one of each age; Infant, Child, Adult, and Elder. Four roped collars connected them. The Sagamore placed the Turtles in the water and removed their collars. As they swam, the Elder Turtle looked back to the shore as the Colonist and Sagamore bid him farewell. The Four Turtles swam into the Bay. I awake in bed.

  • The Craftsman

    He planned to fashion wind chimes
    from their chipped long bones and dried sinews.
    So many years spent in preparation —
    he imagined the night breezes of autumn
    producing a wild dark dance between
    ulna, femur, and radius.
    An elegy, a lament, 
              a lullaby.

    And he did. In unlit corners
    of his soundless basement. He carved,
    drilled, screwed, and strung.
    But the music generated
    was disharmonious and clumsy,
    not at all the melodic tribute he’d intended.
    The chimes hung heavy on the branch
    and flies chased each other between the empty spaces.
    He began again, switching dry spine
    with the dull spotted steel of his slicing tools.
    Stringing the bloodstained blades, he saw them reflected
    in the metal,
    each knife an eternal mirrored trap of their open mouths,
    hair plastered to cheeks by rivers of their tears.

    Their mute screams caught the morning sun just right,
    swaying from a rusty hook near his bedroom window
    and when the winds of October came at last,
    he slept peacefully, lulled into Nod
    by their unanswered cries for rescue.

    Patricia Gomes is the New Bedford poet laureate. patriciagomes.com