Again I am sitting here, in the Arts Museum in Sharjah, waiting for our crew to finish filming some beautiful shots of the surrounding heritage area. I like production. I like the action difficult parts and the low key waiting around sometimes parts. I like cameras and sound gear. I like mad directors. I like the rush and stress. I like the movement. I digress from poetry.
What to share with you today? Well, we are setting up a new reading for the Poeticians Dubai. It has grown so much beyond my expectations. People were warning me that a poetry group in Dubai just would not fly, but it is soaring. Everyday new poets write to me, people have begun ASKING and DEMANDING we have a new reading…Its very exciting. Our next reading is probably March 2nd, at the Shelter, and the theme is Lust/Love…I wonder if I am still speaking to myself. Our poetician Tina Fish tells me she reads our blog so I’m not totally alone out here. I will leave you with a poem. Hmm, which one?
This one. I wrote it last week for Suheir Hammad. If you don’t know who she is, google and youtube her, right now. Like, now.
For Suheir Hammad, gorgeous.
This is how poets are born.
Sit in back rooms of secluded structures while a single mic blasts
your sorrow from where you buried it
dredges everything you hid to fill this damp room with minerals precious
of coming home to a place you never knew
you never knew you could love this hard
listen to open veins reading the personal
a light wraps bodies tethered free
shed the person you wore in the sunlight outside
or a nighttime laugh you sent out to the city before
this room becomes all of Manhattan
and her windows.
This is how love is spun,
glance into the eyes of someone you could touch beyond hands and skin
repeat words wordless burrowed you could flood out
a kiss has you grappling for a dictionary of terms uncoined
and one day, a poem, a poem comes to you, says all you can ascribe
to one moment, one person, fills a universe
you say, this is what I wanted to say
this is what I have always wanted to say.
The person you love understands
but no matter
firmly in its place poetry has rooted explanation
this is the life blooms
deciphered and true.
This is how a poet is born.