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Featured poet Ishle Yi Park reads at the 2008 Festival.
are not mythological
we are starving
or eating salty cakes
made of clay
because in 1804 we felled
our former slave captors
the graceless losers sunk
vindictive yellow
teeth into our forests
what was green is now
dust & everyone knows
trees unleash oxygen
(another humble word
for life)
they took off
with our torn branches
beheaded our future
stuck our breath up on pikes
for all the world to see
we are a living dead example
of what happens to warriors who―
in lieu of fighting for white men’s countries―
dare to fight
for their own lives
during carnival
we could care less
about our bloated empty bellies
where there are voices
we are dancing
where there is vodou
we are horses
where there are drums
we are possessed
with joy & stubborn jamboree
but when the makeshift
trumpet player
runs out of rhythmic breath
the only sound left is guts
grumbling
& we sigh
to remember
that food
& freedom
are not free
is haiti really free
if our babies die starving?
if we cannot write our names
read our rights keep
our leaders in their seats?
can we be free
really? if our mothers are mud? if dead
columbus keeps cursing us
& nothing changes
when we curse back
we are a proud resilient people
though we return to dust daily
salt gray clay with hot black tears
savor snot cakes
over suicide
we are hungry
creative people
sip bits of laughter
when we are thirsty
dance despite
this asthma
called debt
congesting
legendarily liberated
lungs
Used by permission.
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Lenelle Moïse hailed “a masterful performer” by GetUnderground.com, is an award-winning "culturally hyphenated pomosexual" poet, playwright and performance artist. She creates jazz-infused, hip-hop bred, politicized texts about Haitian-American identity and the intersection of race, class, gender, sexuality, spirituality and resistance. In addition to featured performances in venues as diverse as the Louisiana Superdome, the United Nations General Assembly Hall and a number of theatres, bookstores, cafes and activist conferences, Lenelle regularly performs her acclaimed autobiographical one-woman show WOMB-WORDS, THIRSTING at colleges across the United States.
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Moïse will be featured at Split This Rock Poetry Festival: Poems of Provocation & Witness,
Split This Rock
www.splitthisrock.org
info@splitthisrock.org
202-787-5210
for Phil Young, my father, Robert Hedge Coke, Whitman, and Hughes
Sing back the moment you cherished breath.
Sing you home into yourself and back to reason.
held her cradleboard, wept her into day.
My song gave her creation, prepared her delivery,
held her severed cord beautifully beaded.
My song comforted her as she battled my reason
as I cried this country, my song grew roses in each tear’s fall.
circled canyons, while she made herself maiden fine.
carefully rumbling her great underbelly, prepared to pour forth singing—
Mother of her world. Sister of myself.
Call her to peer into waters, to behold herself in dark and light,
I will sing her back, sing her back. I will sing. Oh, I will—I do.
-Allison Hedge Coke
Used by permission.
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Allison Hedge Coke holds the Distinguished Paul W. Reynolds and Clarice Kingston Reynolds Endowed Chair of Poetry and Writing at the
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Hedge Coke will be featured at Split This Rock Poetry Festival: Poems of Provocation & Witness,
Split This Rock
www.splitthisrock.org
info@splitthisrock.org
202-787-5210
Anonymous Song
When the shooting began
Everyone ran to the trucks
Grabbed whatever their backs needed
And made for the trucks
Except K
And they begged him to get on
The ones who ran to the trucks
But he refused them all
Later they found him
On the road running
And howling and still
He refused them all
Since he knew
His legend would grow
Then sightings began
He was clothed or naked
Cooking or sleeping
Eating or drinking what
The others gave him
And their begging remained the same
The trucks going loaded
Then coming back empty the same
Until it was forgotten
When K had first lost his mind
Before the shooting started
Or much worse after
One thing for sure
K is real
Safe and sweet especially
Holding a baby to sleep
Or asking for a sip of your Fanta
Or calling out your name from where
You cannot see him
- Fady Joudah
Excerpt from The Earth in the Attic by Fady Joudah,
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If you are in the DC-area, please join us on Thursday November 19th, as Joudah's work will be the topic of a discussion led by translator and poet Yvette Neisser Moreno - the first in a series of book discussions brought to you by Split This Rock and The Writer's Center.
7 pm
The Writer's Center
(5 blocks south of Bethesda Metro)
301-654-8664
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Fady Joudah's The Earth in the Attic won the Yale Series for Younger Poets in 2007. Contest judge Louise Glück describes the poet in her foreword as, “that strange animal, the lyric poet in whom circumstance and profession ... have compelled obsession with large social contexts and grave national dilemmas.” He is the winner of the 2008 Saif Ghobash – Banipal Prize for Arabic Literary Translation for his translation of poetry by Mahmoud Darwish collected in The Butterfly’s Burden, published in a bilingual edition by Bloodaxe Books in the
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Joudah will be featured at Split This Rock Poetry Festival: Poems of Provocation and Witness,
Split This Rock
www.splitthisrock.org
info@splitthisrock.org
202-787-5210