I will read three poems at Imprint Bookstore’s event, Jan. 20 6:30-8:30 p.m. Port Townsend, Washington.
There is limited capacity, so arrive early and please be flexible.
There will be fifteen poets reading related to Togetherness in a time for Solidarity and Resilience. I will address stigmas related to chronic illness. This will be a time of community, hope, reassurance, and encouragement!
I will read two poems from Inspired by Art: Olympic Authors & Artists: “Doors of Unknown Significance” and “Salmon Parent.” Many other poets published in this anthology will read as well.
This anthology includes ekphrastic poetry in response to talented local artists and photographers (including Olympic Peaks Camera Club). Their works have exhibited this year at Studio Bob’s, the Blue Whole Gallery, and Port Angeles Fine Arts Center.
On Saturday, Oct. 19, 2-4 p.m., at the Seattle Central Public Library (1000 Fourth Ave, Seattle, WA 98104) poets will read their poems about and take their stands against hate and bigotry.
My contribution will be “Stigmatized and Written Off,” a poem from my full-length (unpublished) cancer poetry memoir. This poem first published on OncoLink.com last month. It touches on the stigma of chronic or terminal disease.
Our culture glorifies youth and often stigmatizes the sick. We don’t deal well with death or the dying either. Oftentimes, cancer patients are dumped by friends and spouses. Also, they can be discriminated against, even by healthcare providers who make global assumptions based on cancer diagnosis. My poem brings these things to light.
Meanwhile, cancer patients are living. This diagnosis is different for each patient with specific circumstances of individuals. Plus, every human dies…we don’t know when. So what’s the deal with this type of discrimination and disempowerment? Let’s get real – disease happens, and to those who take good care of themselves too. A person isn’t a disease nor a disability. A person is a person is a person is a person.
Three close friends of mine opt out. The last thing said, It’s treatable right? Yesterday I read an athlete obit, Younger man dies in a kayak accident. So alive was he, everyone in shock, His abrupt memorial packed no doubt. But what of those who linger on?
Letting go is a large lesson In life and death facing. There’s almost an inward scoff, No more energy for outward response To those unconsciously saying, Sorry that you’ve got cancer cells Running all over your body, Or, So, you’re going to do the Killing yourself thing to live. Yes, these things are said. Surprised? By ignorance, False confidence, in a culture That worships youth and wealth? Well, I don’t plan to die just yet – Is that okay with you? And not every subsequent health issue Is another cancer—Sorry, Does this disappoint your need To assume that for me it’s all over?
I’m folding myself into poetry batter, Yes, writing myself in For whatever time I have to spend, And with those friends who Will have me outlive them. Dumped due to an impending death – You’re damn right I care about that. Aren’t we all headed that way? Most don’t deny and set me aside. I thank God for this every day.
I am reading my published poem, “My Mother’s Parents Free Ranged,” along with other Cookbook authors at the Olympic Peninsula Authors’ open mic-night, February 16, at 6 p.m. There is also a Zoom livestream!
The evening will begin with the special journal readings, then followed by an open-mic.
The location: 609 W. Washington Street at KSQM in the SE corner of the Sequim Village Shopping Center.
Other writers are welcome to read their work following the special readings. Readings are timed to 5 minutes per author, and you may read prose, poetry, fiction, or nonfiction.