The Grand Poetry Reveal
Sitting in a dimly lit room, mugs of tea clutched in hand, I chatted with the President of the American Corner and a Czech woman living in Debrecen. The President I knew well, as I visited the American Corner Library weekly for new books and we shared a love of wine. The Czech woman was new, so as we chatted, the fact came out that both of us wrote poetry as a hobby. The wheels in Ms. President’s head started turning, as she was always looking for new workshops and lectures at the American Corner. “Hey girls,” she said with a sly look in her eye. “What about doing a poetry evening at the AC? I know a Hungarian write, you’re Czech, and you’re American, so we can have poetry represented from different countries! It’s also womens month, and you’re all women, so it’s perfect!”
“Sure,” we agreed with a smile, chattering a bit, but not taking her seriously. It wasn’t until she emailed both of us wanting to have a planning meeting that we both stalled, shocked that anyone would want to hear our poetry! Ms. President pressed us, and it morphed into an international women’s poetry event.
Before I went to Hungary I made a list of 5 things that I wanted to accomplish, and writing a poem a week was one of them. Therefore, I had a huge selection to draw from!
The format comprised of sharing a personal poem, along with a poem written by an established woman poet, and then it was opened up for discussion. A wall was hung with our names and poetry, with comment cards available for critique. The evening was well attended by about 20 people, who all participated and were very charming. The styles represented were phenomenal: The Hungarian girl was very spontaneous, quirky, and had accompanying art with her poems, the Czech girl rode the waves of her emotions (mainly love) with composed music accompanying her reading, while my style is slightly lyrical, narrative, with an emotional tinge. It was a liberating event to read poetry to a live crowd!!!!!
- Flora, Veronika, and I in front of our poetry panels!
Here are some examples of the best poems of this year: (and I DO appreciate constructive feedback)
“Mosaic”
Do you see in an array
Plaids and mosaics
In concrete and wire?
Rose tinted lenses smother
Or set fire
The mind
Give me colored collages
In the ordinary.
Through the Seasons
Winter’s icy glare melts into spring’s shy embrace
Summer’s playful gaiety soon into autumn fades
Colors transform and alter as minutes pass away
Paths diverge and collide in messy disarray
Yet through the never-ending seasons of change and time
In my poem of life, you are the perpetual rhyme
The expanse of distance is unable to confine
Spirit-filled Love that we share, sealed in prayer, love that binds
Family, neighbor, or penpal, locations are inane
During drought, harvest, thunderclouds, flowers and rain
The world revolves around the fact that will never change
Tied to my heart you will explicably remain
Through the Seasons
“Borders”
A historical moment illuminated
Gestures
Darkening the face as to only see the
Hands and
Triumphant voice
Exhailarating
He said
Exhilarating
Standing among thousands
Celebrating as One
The freedom of borders
(the freedom I take for granted)
E crossed simply to cross
Waving
At a new world.
Exhilarating
He said
As the bus chugged across the border
Unnamed Rambling/NightWalk
The new day approached by minutes
Shrouded by a haze of darkness and alcohol
My Footsteps, silent on the sidewalks
The clack of heels from a clubber behind me
Faceless, but cookie-cutter
The buzz of a bicycle
Train whistle
Intoxicating smell lingers, longing to meld with my taste
Of blackberries. Black curls.
Darkness enlivens the urge to shun morals
Boxes and traps of safety and caution
Embrace literally and figuratively my carnal nature
Soft touch and words
Then nothing—no strings—forget
But the rabbit hop thought following
Amber shadows
Illuminate the face of the One
Yours truly, that I try to forget
Every day
Brushing aside thoughts like flies
Tiresome
Yet still they flutter
What’s worse: relief without love or love without relief?
I walk on. The street tilts wildly,
Esteem pendulum is frozen
Miklos Utca
Miklos Utca I walk:
In soul numbing fear
Of my inadequacy and drunkards
With silent tears
Flaming rivulets of pain and joy
Whistles, catcalls, and jeers
Arrogant Hungarian men
Dreaming careers
In a fuzzy future
Down my block long mirror
The only full-length image
A listening ear
To cars, bells, murmurings
The healing year
Miklos Utca
Pour me Another Glass
Pour me another glass
Add a wink
I’m drinking your gaze like a parched desert wanderer
Your voice my anchor I cling
Against the torrent of uncertainty
Another Day
Took a stroll in the dusk
Searching for your face
Between flowers and cigarettes
Down alleyways
Yellow light blinked caution
Thunder bikes raced
Fountains gurgled summer
Your piercing gaze . . . .
Slowly erased
Maybe another day.
“The Snore”
In the bright yellow room
With chocolate candles burning
My reverie is cracked
By horrifying snoring
Man or woman who can tell
A freight train has no gender
Where’s a crimson sticker
That says “Return to Sender?”
