National Poetry Writing Month

Poet Spotlight on: LowKey

In her own words, the poet LowKey says this: “I go by the name LowKey. I write about anything and everything that stirs me enough to want to pick up the pen. Blessed with an attention span of a goldfish, the brevity of my literary work comes as a given. Simple yet effective is my writing mantra.”

LowKey writes poetry that hearkens back to more traditional poets, yet has a distinct style all its own. Whether it is one of her short pieces or a longer work, she stops to make readers of her poetry think and contemplate the content of her works. They are a reflection of the world we live in, both our interior realms and the external.

When did you first discover that you were a poet? What was that experience like?

When I was around 18. It was more of a “okay, so I think I can write poems” than a “aha! me is a poet!” I remember being pretty nervous when I asked my mum to have a read. She is an amazing writer and poetry is her thing. I saw her eyes welling up as she was reading the piece. I think that was the first time I realized how my words could actually impact people. It was empowering, humbling, liberating, all at once.

What are some of your favorite subjects to write about? What inspires you to write poetry?

I think the darker shades of human emotions is what I like to explore and write about. We as a society present ourselves in a neatly wrapped package with a red bow around it. What goes on underneath that shimmery wrap is something we usually shy away from or deny. So that is what I love to discover through the words I pen. I think pain inspires me to write the most. I know that might sound a bit whack, but some of the best creative pieces I have written have been from when I was in a dark place. Maybe it is because my need to lean on creativity to express myself is the most during those times.

If you could spend the afternoon with another famous author or poet, who would you choose and why?

Has to be Sir Walter de la Mare, although he isn’t amidst us anymore. He is my absolute favorite. The way he built an entire atmosphere around the reader with his words is beyond amazing. From his poems, he seems to have been pretty intense and quiet. It would be fascinating to see what he really was like.

What is your favorite aspect of writing poetry? What is your least favorite?

I think the healing that comes from writing, regardless of the form of writing is my most favorite aspect. The least favorite aspect is someone out there always does it better and you go, “Damn! why didn’t I think of that!!?”

How did you discover your style of poetry? How did you find your voice as a poet?

I feel like every writer has something unique to offer that might be lost if one tries to emulate. I think “inspired” would be the right word for me here. I like subtlety. I always have. So when I began writing, it was something that came naturally to me.

What advice do you have for poets who are just beginning their careers as poets?

Be honest and unfiltered. Creativity is where you can just let go. So, make the most of it. Most importantly, don’t be swayed by the negativity that your readers might hurl at you. As long as you keep your “writer conscience” clear, it’s all good.

Do you think shorter poetry is easier for readers to digest? What influence has social media had on your writing style, if any?

Oh yes! I am not sure about the digest part, but people nowadays definitely prefer brevity. Social media fortunately has not affected the way I choose to express myself through my writing. The reason I said fortunately is because it is so easy to be engulfed and affected by social media in this day and age. From creating pressure to making you doubt yourself to making you lose your originality because you have fallen prey to trends, social media can take away the voice that it so freely provides as well.

Who are your favorite poets to read?

Beside Sir Walter de la Mare and your pieces, I really like reading Edgar Allan Poe and J. Andrew Schrecker.

Where can readers find more of your writing?

https://www.lowkeyrants.com/

Deception

Little Tommy, five years old
Sat with Grandpa and learnt to fold
Colored papers, ribbons, and casks
Into little party masks.

Birthday masks and ballroom faces
Held together with glue and laces
Funny, scary, bold and rude
Different masks for different mood.

“Why do people hide their skin
Behind a veil, so weak and thin?
Tell me, Grandpa, if you can,”
Tommy asked his grand old man.

Grandpa smiled, a smile of lime.
“People do it all the time,
Scared to come out in the bright
They keep their true self out of sight.”

“They coat all bitterness with sugar and honey-
They cover their sins with grey black money;
The colorful masks cover their lives,
But their real self reflects in their eyes.”

“No mask ever made can cover the mirrors
That show perfectness and all errors;
The greatest gift of God, no lies,
All truth surfaces in one’s eyes.”

“So, be true to your own self,
You’ll need no mask, you’ll need no help-
Let your face reflect the love
That He showers down from Heaven above.”

“Be honest, and love mankind-
These things these days are hard to find;
One by one, these steps will grace
And make the world a happier place.”

-LowKey

Isabelle Palerma

Anorexia: a Poem

I sicken myself with hunger.
If this was a physical disease,
my ribs would be visible through a sheath of skin.
(My rib bones so sharp they could splinter glass.)
Instead, I waste away while appearing strong.
I’d have carved your name on my bones,
but bones fracture and break.

You took a needle to your skin, but this time,
it wasn’t filled with an illness.
You injected yourself with ink,
and ink is my illness, my poison.

If you throw the stars upon the midnight canopy,
a constellation can be found.
In that pattern, my star is home.
But this emptiness gnaws at me, a hunger
that makes me want to devour my own flesh
and cannibalize myself.
Instead, my soul is atrophying with disuse.
(And I pour more and more into myself,
wondering when you’ll return.)

This isn’t a lacuna nor a crater.
You have vanished for longer,
but I have a heart that’s gone beyond starvation.
It’s empty here without you, &
I just wait for your return,
sustaining myself on memories and promises.

Isabelle Palerma

Poet Spotlight on: Brandan T.C. McCarty

Poet Brandan T.C. McCarty lives in Washington and in addition to writing poetry, he is interested in music and art. As a member of the Makah tribe, he has been a dancer, singer, and artist in that culture.

Brandan, you have said before music influences your writing. How exactly does music play a role on the poetry you create?

Yes, music is an influence. I listen to a large base of music because of family and friends introducing me to new music. It depends on the music sound being played, and it could just be a lyric(s). Metallica is a huge influence.

Writing is a form of art, but I know you also paint. What does the intersection of art and writing mean to you?

In ’01, I was hurt emotionally by a teacher in art college. I would destroy any art I created, so I switched to writing to deal with traumatic past events. In ’11, I started to work with acrylic paints. By ’18, I became a visual artist as well as a New Age Coastal Artist for my Native art. The past two and half years, I have been using many mediums and platforms to create art pieces. I still wrote, but not as much. I figured why not do both and maybe blend them together in some pieces. ‘The Wanderer’ is close to a visual concept of what I am evolving into as an artist.

Your Makah roots are very important to you, as is family and knowing your history. This is evident in the poetry you write. What would you advise the young poet who is not as well-versed in their past as you?

My roots are important. My dad has said to me all that I do reflects back on your teachers and persons involved with you. My mom said the same thing in her way of communicating to me. I read. I read just about anything. I was told to figure out the style you want to write, and then go find published work similar so your skill can be honest. As for past or culture, read and spend time with families and friends. Listen, take time to actually listen. Even if it is a day spent sitting in a kitchen drinking coffee and watching grandpa carve, or dad paint a mask. Open yourself to learn, to fall and get back up.

How would you describe your being a father as an influence on your poetry?

I used to have some selfish habits, and those habits almost claimed my life. I came to realize, I don’t want this for my eldest son. Nor any other child that looks up to me. So I turned from booze, I went back to arts. Poetry is art, to me just about anything could be considered an art. Now, with my baby I have been relearning to sing my Native Family songs and dancing the dances. I have been away too long from it. I guess I can say, being a father has enriched my poetry with more care and love than I had before.

Who are some of your favorite poets? What aspects of their poetry appeal to you as a reader? As a writer?

Charles Bukowski, as a reader, good comic. Biography spoken in poetry verse. As a writer, someone once said my work reminds him of Bukowski. Raymond Carver, as a reader, his work involving water or daily life. As a writer, I met Tess Gallagher and she said I reminded her of her late husband, Raymond. J. A. Janice has one book of poetry. Read a little a bit of it. A strong woman, and a gentle soul. She writes crime novels. Met her a couple times in person. My mom got me into her works. My late Mama Valerie, because she had a talent of words and wish I recorded some of her work better.

Where can readers find more of your writing?

https://www.postpoems.org/authors/majesticdravon
https://allpoetry.com/Brandan_Tototch
www.facebook.com/nmpBrandanMc

Gift Exchange

I stand before you, shivering and straggling a
box.
A battered, scarred, worn box full of the
darkness I wish to gift you.
The air I taste and breathe, is excellences of
sweetness.
In my bitter hands, 1 hold my broken dreams
and scattered Spirit.
All the past lovers have left their mark,
tainting my heart and you stand before me
Accepting the box, receiving as a gift and
you set the broken box at our feet
You lift up my dampen chin, my flooded
beard and your lips swim in my waters
You brave the morose salt for a delicate
kiss.
In return, you gift me light. You gift me
soothing songs to dance my heart
I gift you my darkness, and you gift me the
warming light.

Brandan T.C. McCarty

Isabelle Palerma

A Shattered Autobiography: a Poem

Like collaging layers of parchment paper
on top of one another,
I have buried myself underneath a rubble
of trauma.

Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon
or a phoenix rising from the ashes,
I am discovering my autobiography
stencilled between lines of poetry

and fiction

and fire.

Every word I scribble down in a mad haste
is a frantic attempt to name a feeling
that is beyond words.
(My way of sketching the rocket ship
that will guide me back to my galaxy.)

The sanitized version of reality
goes down as smoothly as cyanide – a bitter pill,
but somehow, something I’m forced to swallow,
nonetheless.
I see myself in the paint splatters &
the little messes she was so eager to take
a damp rag to.

(This is an imperfect work of art –
lines crooked and acrylics splashed
out of bounds.
This is not something that will catch the eye
of an art dealer.

This is my little mistake on canvas,
but you see,
that inked-in star is home for me.)

I have spent lifetimes, hiding underneath
piles of paper, dodging who I could have been,
avoiding who I could be,
but the truth is

I could be amazing
if you bend the bars of this iron cage.
I could be unstoppable
if you listen to these memoirs,
read these poems,
study these paintings.

When you finally ask who I am,
I’ll tell you.
I’m in media res,
still in the progress of self-discovery,
but I swear, even in the shattered mosaic bits,
I can shimmer.

I, too, can shine.

& perhaps that’s because of your belief in mirrors
that I can see the vestiges of beauty
glittering through the shards others neglected
and left behind.

Isabelle Palerma

Poet Spotlight on: Dlvan Zirak

For Global Poetry Writing Month, I have decided to feature poets from around the world that I know. These are talented individuals who impress me with their skills. They write incredible poetry and are beautiful human beings.

For this first weekend of April, I have chosen to interview Kurdish poet, Dlvan Zirak. Dlvan is twenty-six-years-old and has written three poetry books 5 A.M. Thoughts, its Kurdish translation, and Jar of Memories.

Dlvan writes about a variety of topics, but one, in particular, caught my attention. She talks about mental health, a topic which is still highly stigmatized. This poet wishes to eradicate the stigmatization of openly discussing mental illness and does this by addressing it in her poetry.

Dlvan, you write so honestly and so articulately about mental illness. Do you or anyone you know have a mental illness? If so, what kind of affect does that have on your writing?

I’m a hypersensitive person and I feel too much. Simple things can affect me more than they affect others. Since writing is my escape, I write what I feel and I make sure that my thoughts are expressed as I want to. So, for example, I face a difficult day at work, I write about it with heavy emotions because this way I feel better. Also, with everything that happened in 2020, I was so overwhelmed. I had never felt like this before, and this helped me see things from a different perspective. I try to show these in my writings.

I have found my upbringing colors a lot of my writing and the way I utilize metaphors and similes. How do you feel your childhood and/or culture impact your writing style?

Even as a kid, I dreamed about doing different things when I grew up. Living in the Middle East can be challenging. So from my writings and my books, I want to show the youth that it doesn’t matter where we live, we can dream big and work hard to make our dreams come true. I also want to show my readers that they are not alone when they are going through different emotions in life and to empower the next generation.

What do you find easiest to write about? What is the most challenging?

The easiest thing to write is about emotions. It comes to me so easily, whether it’s something that I feel, someone talks about their experiences, or the things that I notice around me. As for challenging, I think writing stories. Working on an idea, making up scenarios, making sure there aren’t plot holes.

Do you have an ideal space to write your poetry? If you could imagine the best place to write poetry, what would it look like?

I don’t plan to write my poems. They just come to me and I grab my phone before the idea runs away and I write it in my Notes app. The best place would be among trees and mountains. Where you can hear water and animals are far away and birds fly in different directions. To me, there is nothing more beautiful than nature and it makes me so relaxed.

Where can readers find more of your writing?

They can find me with the following links:

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dlvanzirak/?hl=en

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/A.JarOfMemories/

Website:

https://dlvanzirak.com/

Goodreads:

http://bit.ly/dlvan_goodreads

YouTube:

http://bit.ly/dlvan_yt

Twitter:

http://bit.ly/dlvan_twitter

I will never be the same.
Even if I never get to feel
All the horrible things I feel now,
I will never be how I used to be.
I may become the happiest person
That has roamed this earth.
But at night, when the world is quiet,
When you can hear your own breath,
I’ll remember the faces I saw.
I will be able to identify their pain.
I will remember the hurt I was in.
And even though I will be happy then,
I know that not everyone else is.
And this, man, this will sting.
It will feel like a heartbreak in a circle.
Even when I don’t remember the hurt,
When no sadness is left in me,
I will know others suffer,
And there’s nothing I can do about it.
For this, I shall never find peace.

-Dlvan Zirak