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Kern County Poet

Open Mic August 4, 2017

First Friday Open Mic – August 4, 2017

 Story by Shanna O’Brien

Photos by: Christina Noel

 

It was so much fun covering the hostess position for Portia at the August 4, 2017 Kern Poetry open mic night held at Dagny’s Coffee Shop.  The room was full to capacity with enthusiastic smiling folks ready to share their hearts and souls.  As each poet or musician expressed their art, the audience quietly listened and responded with appreciative applause. Everyone encouraged the “newbies” to continue writing and continue coming back to share.  Several people said they could feel the love and support in the room and that’s what it’s all about.  It takes courage to stand in front of people we don’t know and expose thoughts and feelings in poetry and song. At the end of the night we gave one last round of applause for everyone in the room, thanking each other for showing up and participating.

One of the poets who attended was Emily Andrews, who graciously agreed to an interview and below are her answers to my questions:

How did you come to express yourself through poetry? 

“I was looking for a way to express my heart’s language.  I wanted to speak the truth and just get everything out on paper.  Once I wrote my first poem I was hooked.   It was so thrilling —  the feeling you get when you finish your very own masterpiece.”

Do you have any influences?

“My first influence was my Mom. She sparked my interest in English and writing at a very young age.  She taught English.  She is a very captivating and educated woman.  I am also influenced by Reyna Biddy.  She speaks from the heart and is all about spoken word.  I also admire the R. H. Sin’s “Whiskey, Words, and a Shovel” series.  It gets me writing every time I put the book down.”

What inspires you to write?  “What mainly inspires me is an emotion bubbling up inside and when I spill the ink on paper it represents how I’m feeling in that moment in time.  And when I write, I try to come up with a message of truth and go from there.”

Can you describe the time when you first realized that writing was something you absolutely had to do?

“I felt very empty inside and writing filled my soul and I realized, when other people could relate to my words, it was something that I had to do.”

Do you have a favorite poem you’ve written?

“My favorite is a simple poem called “Life’s a Beach” – it was a simple time in my life that sparked that emotion but it was the first poem I was ever proud of.”

 

Below is one of the two poems Emily shared with us on Friday, Aug. 4.

“Revolving”

by Emily Andrews

Boom! I’m Back

Thrown against the ground tossed under the depths of ocean blue emotion I feel for you

I might drown

I’m like a boomerang you see

I always come back around

I come up for air before I hit the ground

Why do I feel things so deeply you ask? My answer is simple, love doesn’t hurt me, the love I have for you doesn’t hurt me, what you choose to do with that love hurts me. I’m a boomerang but I’m not coming back around this time

Lies I tell myself as I prepare to deny your late night messages of lust

Throwing me away but expecting me to come back

As if you didn’t confine me enough

I’m a boomerang and I keep coming back

I always come back

It is the way I am wired

To love without getting tired

To give without anything in return required

One thing must change

I’m a boomerang

You just need to want me when I come back around.

 

 

Also attending was actor/writer/landscape architect/artist, Edward Charles Waters, who shared his spoken word describing what his father meant to him. Edward’s emotional presentation came from deep in his heart and his tears moved everyone in the room.  Edward agreed to answer a few questions for our readers.

What moved you to present spoken words about your Father?

The piece I presented titled “Dad” is one of two dominant works of mine.  Both are about my father and me during the period of time when I was between the ages of three and eight.  I wanted to support my friend Shanna O’Brien who was hosting the Open Mic at Dagny’s on August 4.  I wanted to perform this most personal piece for her and for a live audience.  As an actor / performer, it is important that I take advantage of opportunities to flay the skin off my vulnerabilities.

What are you trying to communicate with your art?

Who I am and what I came from I suppose.  I like “slice of life” works.  Ones that take me somewhere vividly and introduce me to people and thoughts I otherwise would not have known – works that inform me and teach me.  I am informed and taught in the writing of the work and am informed and taught in the reading or observation of what others produce.  This kind of work brings us closer together.

What does being creative mean to you?

It means everything.  I am so fortunate to be gifted with Creativity.  To be able to express what I see and feel artistically!  Art, which is the expression of Creativity, is the language of God.  By utilizing my gift, I align myself with God and all the Power and Knowledge of the Universe!

What kind of creative patterns, routines or rituals do you have?

I always get still.  I listen.  After a while, I see.  After another while, I understand.  The answer comes.  The answer comes as to what to say, how to play the part, how to solve the design problem.  I have learned that in all forms of Art, I cannot force the process.  I merely have to get out of my own way.

What’s the favorite thing you’ve ever created?

My life and I create and recreate it daily!

 

Below is Edward Charles Waters spoken word titled “Dad.”

“DAD”

by Edwards Charles Waters

In the early fifties, I was just a little guy and Dad was a single parent who had custody of me on weekends.  He was a striking figure of a man with matinee idol good looks.  But instead of opting for a social life with adult friends on weekends, he chose to spend that time with me.

He was a guide and a teacher and the world of Chicago was our classroom.  His style was somewhere between Socrates’ and Mickey Spillane’s.

He introduced me to so many people, places and things that I had a head start on other kids my age and never lost ground.

He took me to every nook and cranny in the City of Chicago.  To Lincoln Park and the Zoo.  To see Bushman, the gorilla.  To the Lion House at feeding time.  He sat me on his shoulders so I had a good view.

We walked and talked on dark streets late at night.  A “Mutt and Jeff” pair.  He took me to past crime scene locations, to all-night diners and to corner taverns.  He took me to all the museums and to the planetarium.  To Lake Michigan and the “Rocks”.  To Notre Dame and to mass.

He introduced me to Shakespeare, Homer, Cicero and Caesar.  To navy bean soup, cotton candy and street vendor hot dogs.  To “Dick the Bruiser”, the “Cisco Kid” and his sidekick “Pancho”, and to Jack Brickhouse.

He let me sit on his lap and drive his car and ride the roller-coaster at Riverview Park.

He taught me how to swim and how to dive, how to tread water and how to float on my back.

He taught me to “try it”, to fear nothing and no one, to be proud to be a Waters, and to walk right up and “stick your hand out.”

He taught me to help a blind person cross a street, that where there is right there is might, and that everyone deserves their “shot.”

He bragged some, but usually about others…like Uncle Charles, or me.

He loved his country.  He loved the Navy…they had good “chow.”

He loved to lie in the sun.  He loved the water…any water.

He liked a beer every now and then, and to “stop in” on friends.

He loved me and I loved Him.

Bye Dad. I’ll see you soon.

Eddie

 

In closing I would like to say, “What a wonderful evening!”  Everyone is different yet we’re all the same, wanting to express what’s in our hearts.  So let’s

KEEP WRITING!

Nancy Edwards Honored

Story by Portia Choi

Nancy Edwards passed away on January 5, 2017.  Nancy was a poet.  She was also a professor of English at Bakersfield College from 1968-2009.

When poets and friends of poets were informed of her passing, there was a profound sense of loss.

This story is written to fill the loss with memories of Nancy and words from her poetry.  It is with the belief that for as long as a person is remembered and their words are read or spoken, the presence of the person lives on within and among us.

Poets and writers who knew Nancy shared their thoughts and feelings with Kern Poetry.

In this story the first names for Nancy Edwards and contributors are used due to fondness for each of the persons.

 

 Sharing by Rosa Garza

Rosa said that Nancy was a great friend and she was “like family, like another sister.”  She met Nancy in a Creative Writing class that Nancy was teaching at Bakersfield College.  Rosa was a student in the class.  Rosa had returned to school after staying home for 20 years after she obtained her Bachelor’s degree.  When she went back to school, the Creative Writing class was one of the first classes that she took.

Rosa eventually obtained her Master’s Degree in history.  She applied for employment at Bakersfield College and was hired to teach history.  Nancy and Rosa continued to be friends and were now colleagues.  Their offices were down the hallway from each other.

They worked together on two books of poetry.  One was a chapbook that contained the poems from the students of a Creative Writing class as well as their poems.  In the book, Beloved Mothers Queridas Madres, some of the poems were translated into Spanish.

In the forward of the book, Beloved Mothers Queridas Madres, Nancy wrote “This book is for the women who raised us, the mothers, grandmothers, sisters, sisters-in-law, aunts, mothers-in-law, godmothers, and special friends who book us to the place leading into our adulthood.”

Another book that Nancy and Rosa wrote together was The Women Within.

(Rosa Garza is a professor of History at Bakersfield College.)

 

 Sharing by Kevin Shah

“I enjoyed our many meetings at . . .local places. And her (Nancy’s) closeness with James her husband was endearing to watch, as they accompanied each other to all her events. They both supported each other in so many tender ways.”

“I want to say that Nancy was a vital part of the creative community. She brought her insights from the academic world into her work with planning our poetry events in Kern County. She was a friend who loved to share her stories. She wrote poems from her heart and performed them in public, most memorably performing a dual poem with her husband James Mitchell. She was willing to step outside of her “professor” role, although she never stopped bringing her expertise as an English professor to her involvement with a recent online newspaper/blog entitled “Kit Fox Bakersfield.” She had a lot to say and a lot to share. She was energized by being an active writer and contributor. Nancy will be greatly missed.”

(Kevin Shah is a poet and an English teacher.  Kevin hosted poetry open mic at bookstores in Bakersfield.  He was on the planning committee for National Poetry Month.)

 

Sharing by Annis Cassells: 

“In Memoriam”

“Nancy Edwards, Bakersfield College professor emerita of English and long-time Writers of Kern member, passed away January 5, 2017 after a long bout with cancer.

Beloved by former students and the Kern County writing community, Nancy co-sponsored Bakersfield’s National Poetry Month celebrations, coordinated poetry events, and co-hosted readings and performances in many venues around town. She presented writing programs and workshops for Writers of Kern, 60-Plus Club of CSUB, gifted students at West High School, and at local and regional college-level conferences throughout her career and into retirement.

Nancy was a gifted and prolific writer of fiction and non-fiction as well as poetry, with numerous publications: books, anthologies, and literary journals. Most recently, she had two poems in the 2016 chapbook, Writing the Drought, A Collection of Poems by Kern County Authors.

I admired Nancy greatly for her talent and generous spirit. I first met her many years ago when she read one of her poems at a Writers of Kern meeting. That poem, “You are my Africa,” made my breath catch in my throat. When I mentioned it to her a few years later, she found a copy and gave it to me. I took Nancy’s flash fiction class through the Levan Institute. The lessons she taught influence my writing today. When we co-presented a program on writing memoir for the 60 Plus Club’s ElderCollege in 2015, I found her to be an excellent and gracious working partner.

Nancy Edwards loved writing, teaching, and encouraging and mentoring writers. We in Kern County and Writers of Kern were lucky and privileged to have her among us.”

            The article, “In Memoriam”, was written by Annis Cassells for the Writers of Kern Newsletter.

(Annis Cassells is a poet and considered the poetry representative for Writers of Kern.)

 

Sharing by Katie Romley

“I did not know Nancy for a long time. A year at most. But she leaves an indelible impression on me. Nancy had a way of being a champion for others, while also being part-confidant and part-teacher. I believe the teacher in her soul never left, but neither did the friend. I have fond memories of Nancy’s poetry. Even the way she dressed was poetry, with dangly earrings to match her outfits and her hairstyle, sort of wildly neat all at once. Her mother was Southern and she spoke about southern manners and etiquette. . .

We were going to create a literary journal, The Kit Fox. Nancy brought ideas for journals, chapbooks, they’re called. We put the writings online in the end, but Nancy never stopped giving me her praise, thoughtfully written. She bought me a folder one day, with a fox on it. I kept the folder and some of Nancy’s writings inside.

Her e-mails always began “Dear Katie” and ended “Nancy Edwards” and the date. In some ways, formal, she was gracious and kind. She was a leader but she was actually a developer. A champion for other leaders to emerge. Sometimes you read about women leaders, and how the best ones are always scouting other women to come up and join them. That was Nancy.  I never attended Bakersfield College but I had always heard about what an extraordinary teacher she was. It was pretty cool actually to know about her almost 20 years before I ever interacted with her.”

(Katie Romley is writer and publisher of Kit Fox Bakersfield at http://kitfoxbakersfield.wordpress.com/)

 

Sharing by Portia Choi

The poetry community of today is a direct result of involvement of Nancy Edwards.  In 2010, when the National Poetry Month was being planned, Nancy was an enthusiastic partner of a group of four poets.  Nancy brought her knowledge of poetry and her connection to the academic community.    She provided credibility to the group’s work.

On a personal note, Nancy was encouraging and supportive.

Nancy was always improving her craft as a writer.  She continued to take writer’s workshops even after she had retired.

One of the poet wrote about Nancy’s passing.  He wrote that “a wonderful, beautiful voice has been stilled.”

Although Nancy will not be performing her poems in person, her words can continue to be read, spoken, and shared.

 

 

The following are a few of Nancy Edwards’ poems:

 

Bait 

For Pablo Neruda

By Nancy Edwards

The past is a red-eye sockeye salmon

Somebody dropped on my living room floor,

And no one noticed until it smelled so

Damned bad people reeled in nausea;

Take it out, oh God, take it out!

Dispose of it and air the place –

So I did and washed the rug clean,

But still the odor lingers in my mind

As though the sockeye salmon

Still leers at me in decaying pleasure,

Its thin bones inn skeletal elegance

Outlining the feast of your past.

 

Source:  Valley Light Writers of the San Joaquin, gathered by Jane Watts, POETS & PRINTER PRESS, 1978

 

 

Beloved Mother

By Nancy Edwards

(excerpt)

In the webbed flesh of your

Inside elbow

In these layers of tender skin

I am born once more

When you hold me,

Beloved Mother

. . .

You are always

The place inside

You hold me forever

In the stream of my birth

When I am in your arms

You are my beloved Mother.

 

Querida Madre (Beloved Mother)

Translated by Rosa Garza

(excerpt)

En la tela de tu codo

En esas capas de tierna piel

He nacido otra vez

Cuando me acaricias otra vez

Querida Madre

. . .

Siempre eres

El lugar adentro

Donde me abrazas para siempre

En la corriente de mi nacer

Cuando estoy en tus brazos

Tu eres mi querida madre

Source:  Beloved Mothers Queridas Madres, BAKERSFIELD COLLEGE, 1992

 

 

Donna Weather 

 By Nancy Edwards

In late September, it is Donna weather in Bakersfield,

When the air begins to lose its’ blistering heat,

And we can sit outside at the downtown Greek Festival,

The cool air against or necks and legs,

. . .

“Time for Donna to be back,” someone says,

Expecting her to call any day,

. . .

We were positive she would return,

Now it is as if she had been stolen from us,
. . .

We share the phantom pain of loss

Of a limb, our friend gone from view,

Yet so much remains,

So much she wanted us to have,

So much in the air we breathe

In Donna weather.

Source:  Writers of Kern Anthology III, 2008

 

 

Elevation

By Nancy Edwards

(excerpt)

All week, I dreaded the drive to Yosemite,

I obsessed about the sheer cliffs on one side,

Looking down into the straight drop,

Lovely Ponderosa pine, cedar, black oak trees,

The car only inches from the side,

a twisty road, my childhood fears drilled

deep into my consciousness.

My father’s voice ridiculing my fear of heights.

. . . . .

And in your final years

when I could do something for you,

I came through mountains and storms

to see you again.

 

We read our poetry to each other as always.

You never spoke of the sheer drop

On your side: we both knew.

Source:  Levan Humanities Review, Volume 4, Issue 1, 2016. www2.bakersfieldcollege.edu/LHR.

 

 

Missing and Welcoming Back

By Nancy Edwards

(excerpt)

I have missed the pure white egrets,

sleek and graceful,

gliding across Lake Truxtun,

landing like aristocracy,

the royal family on display.

. . .

When spring arrives this year,

so comes hope.

Bright thick green leaves appear

between the blackened branches.

An egret circles the lake,

dips down and lands.

I have seen two red squirrels racing around

a tree chasing each other like passionate lovers.

A lone fisherman casts his line

and stands patiently;

the earth returns and begins again.

Source:  Writing the Drought, A collection of Poems by Kern County Authors, April 2016.