God Asked, What Are You Afraid Of?

Shuly Cawood April 13, 2021

Last year, two friends of mine sent me a poetry collection by Jonathan Byrd. I love unexpected, beautiful gifts that remind me that the people in my life know me well.

But life isn’t always beautiful, and it isn’t always easy, and when I read this particular poem, I recognized myself in its opening line: I told God I was afraid.

A poem doesn’t have to be long to be good. It doesn’t have to meander. It doesn’t have to be filled with big words or allusions or symbols that the reader has to decipher for days. Sometimes a poem just tells you something that you maybe already know but need to hear again.

Sometimes a poem just speaks to you. This one spoke to me.

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This poem is posted here with permission from the author, Jonathan Byrd. The poem appears in the collection You’ve Changed. Thank you, Jonathan, for allowing me to share this poem. (And thank you Val and David for the book!)

You can listen to Robert McCready reciting the poem here.

During the month of April, which is National Poetry Month, I am sharing poems I love from contemporary writers. I hope to pique your interest in poetry, if it needs to be piqued, and to show you that a really great poem can be accessible to all.

If you missed the others poems,, you can find them here and here.

Photo credit of flower: Rosie Kerr

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The Art of Memoir & Personal Essay: A Generative Writing Workshop
June 9-July 7, 2021 (Wednesdays), 2:30-5 p.m. (EST)
Join me in this five-week, online (Zoom) workshop during which you will generate new writing, read writing that inspires, and learn some tools and techniques on the craft of personal essay/memoir writing. There are no critiques in this workshop. The goal is for you to leave with first drafts and a writer’s toolbox ready to help you finish and write the rest of your own life stories. Space is limited. Learn more here. Cost: $349. Early bird rate $299 available until May 8 or until space is filled. Register here.

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Having a hard time finding inspiration and motivation to write? Join me for any (or all) of these online one-hour sessions. We’ll talk about a piece of writing, I will give you a prompt, and then you will WRITE. These workshops are part of Press 53’s High Road Festival of Poetry and Short Fiction. Cost: $10/session.
April 27, noon EST: Register here
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Moments that Matter: an Introduction to Flash Nonfiction
May 5, 2021, 6:30-8 p.m. EST
In this workshop, we’ll talk about what flash nonfiction is, how it works, and why it works. Together we’ll mine some powerful flash pieces for effective techniques you can use in your own writing. This program is part of Press 53’s High Road Festival of Poetry and Short Fiction. Cost: $30. Register here.

***NEW CLASS***
Make Your Poetry Titles Do More of the Heavy Lifting
May 26, 2021, 6:30-8 p.m. EST
Poem titles should serve your poem rather than simply being a way to navigate the contents page. Together we'll look at poems with titles that work hard, contribute to the poem, and offer zing and pizzazz, so your titles will entice readers and better serve your poetry. (P.S. All this can apply to flash nonfiction titles, too.) This program is part of Press 53’s High Road Festival of Poetry and Short Fiction. Cost: $30. Register here.

Goat of My Heart

Shuly Cawood April 5, 2021

When I first read Courtney LeBlanc’s poem, “Goat of My Heart,” I thought oh I can relate to this. In my dating years, I did not always know how to make the best choices. I dated men who didn’t always respect what I wanted, or who pushed me to be something other than who I was. I dated men who, when angry, could ignore me. But I also dated good men—men with big hearts, kind words, men who might have chosen to love me for the long haul if I had let them. I let go of them and only later realized the extent of the loss.

But in each choice, there was a lesson. I gave myself quite an education.

Yet out of our choices and gained wisdom, often we can create beautiful art. I think Courtney LeBlanc did that here with her poem:

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You can listen to Robert McCready reciting the poem on his Evening Magic YouTube Channel here.

This poem is posted here with permission by the poet, Courtney LeBlanc. It was published July 13, 2020 by Okay Donkey. This poem appears in Courtney's forthcoming book, Exquisite Bloody, Beating Heart which is available for pre-order (and will be on sale through April in honor of National Poetry Month). Learn more about Courtney LeBlanc here.

Thank you, Courtney, for sharing this poem with me and with us.

Photo credit: Marek Studzinski

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Upcoming Events

Let’s Write Together!
Having a hard time finding inspiration and motivation to write? Join me for any (or all) of these online one-hour sessions. We’ll talk about a piece of writing, I will give you a prompt, and then you will WRITE. These workshops are part of Press 53’s High Road Festival of Poetry and Short Fiction. Cost: $10/session.
April 13, noon EST: Register here
April 27, noon EST: Register here
May 4, noon EST: Register here
May 18, noon EST: Register here

On the Eve of National Poetry Month, We Begin

Shuly Cawood March 31, 2021

One of the first poems I ever had published—outside of my college literary magazine—was in a literary review that came in the mail to me in one of those manila clasp envelopes. This was back in the days when you submitted your work by postal mail, and you found literary journals to submit to by going to the public library and looking through a hardback copy of Writer’s Market (at least that’s how I did it). The waiting was long, and sometimes the journals weren’t what you expected (one time, the journal that arrived with my published poem was a tiny, stapled thing, about three inches by three inches—size had never been mentioned, and I suppose ultimately it didn’t matter, but I did find it startling).

I remember being so proud of that first publication, so much so that I toted the literary review, kept in its original envelope, to all the various apartments and towns I moved to over the years. I probably still have that envelope and the review somewhere. I felt like my voice, however small, had been heard.

I’ve been thinking a lot about people having their voice heard, how much it matters.

Poetry does that. It gives us a place to say our truths, to work out our thoughts, beliefs, emotions, and to offer the world a glimpse into how we think, and into who we are. Poetry helps us to understand one another.

Each week of National Poetry Month (every April), I share poems I love with you, my readers, in the hope that the poems will inspire you as much as they have inspired me. For those of you who think you don’t like poetry, I hope you will give these poems a chance to change your mind.

I know it’s only the eve of National Poetry Month, but I can’t wait. I want to start celebrating these important voices. So we begin with Marilyn Nelson, who graciously allowed me to post her poem here.

This poem is posted here with permission by the poet, Marilyn Nelson. It was published last June by The New Yorker. You can read the poem on The New Yorker site as well as listen to the poet read the work here. Learn more about Marilyn Nelson here, and buy her books here. (I also recommend this interview with her on the On Being podcast.)

I cannot thank you enough, Marilyn Nelson, for this poem.

Readers, I have a great month of poems lined up. See you again next week.

Photo credit of typewriter: rishi

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