Bonnie Roberts Poetry

 Poet (Limestone Dust Anthology; Whatever Remembers Us; UAH, The Project); award-winning stained glass artist; active in HAL; Claire knows more about country music, blues, and jazz than anyone; she fights against past injustices, especially those done toward the poor and the powerless, in her poetry and in her life.  She and I can laugh and be ourselves together.  Contact her at claire.mikkelsen@yahoo.com

Kathleen Thompson

To order Thompson's The Shortest Distance, visit Amazon.com.  Other books by Thompson are available from Negative Capability Press.  Click here to visit Thompson's home page.  Kathleen was a

SPECIAL GUEST READER at the 2011 LIMESTONE DUST POETRY FESTIVAL

 

 CLIFF MALM

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 Cliff in the Coast Guard, 1953

 

To contact Cliff, go to the following email address:  cmalm@cfmalm.com.

 

 

 

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 These are beautiful friends from my childhood, and from my early teen years, actually.  Pat, in the middle, gave me my first kiss, at the age of, maybe 7??? when he and his family were moving from Florence to Shreveport, Louisiana.  I had to walk to school as usual, but he and I were so broken-hearted about parting, he escorted me to the stop sign before having to go back and help with packing.  At the stop sign, he did a very surprising thing that shocked me deeply, but left its mark on my psyche forever.  He bent toward me and kissed me right on the lips.  Then took off running, and waving at the same time.  I think he was shaking all over.  After that kiss, no doubt, I was, as well.

When I was fifteen, and had never been kissed--well, never as a teenager, that is--my parents and I made a trip to Baton Rouge to visit the York family.  Pat had grown into a very handsome young man of 16, and I fell deeply in love.  I didn't eat the whole time we were there.  I think Pat and I just stared at one another.  Jackie was my sister's best friend at Gilbert Elementary School, and they also  took art classes together.  Jackie had been devastated by the death of my sister at 16, just two years before.

It was Pat who gave me my second kiss before that week was up, and Jackie and I got to know each other a little better.  Before, it had been Jackie and Danylu who had paired off, while Pat and I had paired off as buddies over the years.  Pat wasn't always "kissy."  Around ten, when we visited the Yorks, he tried to drown me in backyard pool. Once, when the Yorks visited us when we still lived on Cloverdale Road in Florence, we all attended Highland Baptist Church.  Somehow ? we convinced my mother and his that we would be "very good" sitting by ourselves.  Ha.  Pat got me in big trouble by holding my hand and pulling me (by force, of course), over and over and over again, through the swinging doors, to the water fountain, until . . . the preacher stopped his sermon and told us to sit down and not to get up again.  All the way home, I had to dread the switching I was going to get, and I got it all right.  Pat, who could apparently wrap his mother around his little finger, received absolutely no punishment whatsoever.  I pretty much wanted to kill him at that time, and my sense of injustice was fanned into flame. 

Some fifty-two years later, Pat and Jackie found me through some high school annual--online, of course.  They both took time out of their very busy lives--Pat is in the olive oil business, husband to Belinda in Houston, Texas, and a grandfather; Jackie is an artist, wife to Keith in Baton Rouge, and grandmother to many--to come to Huntsville to assist an old friend with making needed repairs on my house that I could not afford, and doing work in the yard that I am not able to do. 

Jackie has not changed that much.  She is as solid and sure as she ever was.  Now, Pat is another story.  At least he didn't get me into trouble of any kind; and, in fact, we went to dinner with Carl Malm while he and Jackie were here.  Carl Malm is a minister, in the best sense of the word; and he didn't call us down, and I didn't get any switchings.  :) 

Actually, Pat is in the "oil" business in Houston.  When I introduced him to my friends at Lowe Mill, and he said he was "in oil," I quickly followed with "olive oil, that's olive oil."  That was bad of me.  Pat makes sure that wells are safe; and, no, he had absolutely nothing to do with the one in the Gulf.  Pat is highly knowledgeable in his work and is a very ethical human being.  He has been an oil man since he graduated from Northwestern, many, many years ago. 

I look to the day when these two return to Huntsville.  Not only do I love them, but they are also important connections to my childhood and teenage years.  Jackie is an important connection just for me.  She is also a connection to my sister.

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MY GOOD FRIEND and former publisher at Elk River, J. William Chambers, died in 2015.  I miss him all the time.

UPDATE FOR JOHN CHAMBERS! (PICTURED BELOW)

John Chambers Won the 2011 ALABAMA POET OF THE YEAR AWARD!  I think it's time.  He has published more poets, as the publisher and editor of Elk River Review(the journal) and through individual chapbooks and books through Elk River Review Press than any other publisher in Alabama.  His latest book, published by Negative Capability Press, Mobile Alabama, SUITE FOR STEPHANO and LUISA-GATTA has received praise from critics and from poetry readers, as well.  Below is one review from Richard Garth, poet and critic, in Australia:

 

Brave Beauty

(a review of Suite for Stefano & Luisa-Gatta by J. William Chambers)

by R. Garth

            My first review of J. William Chambers’ Suite for Stefano & Luisa-Gatta (Negative Capability Press) was directly to the author himself. It was short and to the point as E-mails should be:

            Giovanni,

            It’s beautiful.

            (I’m crying)

            R.

            My second review, this one, is more detailed, though comes to the same conclusion.

            Chambers takes you on an incredibly personal journey through his life. Nothing is held back. He shares his anger, his pain, his love, his memories with honest courage. His heart is as open and beautiful as the book itself.

            This scintillating poetry is a collection of 34 cantos, the musical moments inside the dissonant cacophony of a small-minded community.

            “To Long for ‘the Rich Green Center That Never Rips Apart’” by Bonnie Roberts (another great Alabama poet) is a touching introduction to fill the reader in with the exposition behind the poems, to tune the orchestra for J. William Chambers’ poetry. And tune it well she does. Roberts gives an overture of the poems to come, whets the appetite for the feast ahead.

            Canto 1 gobsmacks the reader, especially this one, with the awful words “Booger Town”—what the locals call the poor section of town where the poet lived in his youth. There is hurt in the term, whether using it or hearing it. It is ugly. The stage is set. This poetry has teeth.

            Canto 2, 3, 4…you are drawn into Chambers’ music. Social cruelty toward the artist, the intellectual, the different develops as a theme, an unwanted theme the poet must deal with as reality, the pain of being sensitive in Booger Town, echoing “But nothing good ever came / from Booger Town.” You hear the gossiping crows caw.

            You taste Chambers’ bitterness as he reveals himself a once rejected preacher: “… I should have braved / attendance that next Sunday, / dressed in white robes stained red, / head anointed with oil, / topped with a thorny crown.” Bitterness, but with a smile.

            Canto 7: “Tea time and I become / unavailable / except to myself.” Chambers balances the simplicity of “A budding day in spring, / a cup of green tea…” counterpointed with the complexity of passing seasons, memories and moments of various tea-times. Delicious!

            Canto 8 takes you back into the dark world feeding on the artist, but he has the light of a friend to shine through—a beautiful note swelling amid the noise.

            Chambers takes you on a stroll with happiness in Memphis in Canto 9. Beale Street, art… the wish “I wanted our years to last forever,” -- a lovely rhythmic swing between the joy of love and the pain of death found throughout the cantos. It is happiness… in spite!

            Where can the artist go… that isn’t dark? The evil in the world is unending and restless. You take refuge in, like Chambers, a cat, a friend, music, poetry… all the time aware you cannot take refuge from the pain of loss.

            In Canto 29 Chambers holds up his grief in a golden goblet of fire—his poetry. He is Everyman, finding flowers blossoming everywhere in our cruel world. The true beauty he shared with his great friend he shares with the reader through his gentle music: “Your smile dreams a world / of wild grape, / of mossy banks, / of hyacinths, / of lilies, / of seashells, / of seas, / of springs of mystery.”

In Canto 34 he writes wryly, “Merriment is sometimes found / in strange ways in Alabama. Some Alabamians find / a lot of glee in the misery of folks, / queuing up like turkey buzzards / on a country fence to feast / on a juicy adulterer, / or a yummy fornicator, / or a clotted gay, / or a sauced boozer, / or a gutsy gambler. Not the merriment / To prevent bone-drying.”

            One is reminded of the dance of Salome. You know where the falling veils are leading. You cannot take your eyes away from the dancing girl. You know it only leads to tragedy, the end of the song, the naked truth, but it is nonetheless engrossingly beautiful, like Chambers’ Suite for Stefano & Luisa-Gatta.

                        Suite for Stefano & Luisa-Gatta is Chambers’ most honest, heart-breakingly beautiful work to date. It is the music of life and death.

            This music is the food of love. Play on, J. William Chambers! Play on!

 

 

{Order:  $15.00 (includes postage & handling) , Negative Capability Press, 62 Ridgelawn Drive East, Mobile, AL 36608}



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 ThePoet Natasha Hoover, my poet friend who wrote The House That Tantrism Built.

Natasha and I are connected on Linkedin.com as soul friends.  We tend to like or appreciate the same ideas, poems, art, and photography.  Natasha is not only a poet but a fine photographer, as you can see in the two examples I have posted here.  Every day, Natasha posts her own work and the work of other artists--photographers, sculptors, painters--all kinds of visual art--for an inspiration idea or just something to widen our views of life.  I, and others on the site, especially Laura Bailey, appreciate her efforts to make our time on Linkedin a much richer experience.  Natasha is currently looking for a literary agent.  Anyone out there interested?  I vouch for her poetry and the beauty of who she is.

 

 



 

 

 

 

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 This is the only picture I have of my mother-sister-confidante-mentor-peace activists-gardener-reader-educator-gentle woman-philanthropist-lover of words-Scrabble Champion of possibly the entire Universe, and master gardener and lover of green, growing things--Reese Danley-Kilgo.  She passed on September 23, 2013 to "the other side," but her love still surrounds me and all who loved her and those she loved.

 

 

 

 

 My Reesie to the far right; her beloved Toby to the far left.  Toby pre-deceased Reese by about four years.  Toby and Reese traveled the world as educators.  They built a school in Ecuador, and then taught there.  Theirs was an amazing and fully-lived life together.

I love Reese and will miss her forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                 

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 Go to www.moveon.org to support another friend of mine, MoveOn.  Also, Change.org.  Both are working on important issues of the day such as clean energy, health care reform, animal and human rights, and global health care issues.  

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Second from the left is my precious Judy Watters, the producer of Sundial Writers' Corner at WLRH, FM, Public Radio, locted on the campus of the University of Alabama, Huntsville.  Every year, Judy's grateful writers give her a celebration party in her honor.  This year, someone made a most clever "sundial" cake.  Judy is one of the kindest and most real people on Earth.  There is no pretense; just Judy--which is saying quite a lot.  I call it love, pure and simple, with a lot of laughter thrown in.  Judy worries about our getting kicked out of restaurants, but, really, we're not that bad.  Judy has two brilliant, world-famous musician sons, Harry, Jr. and Ken; beautiful grandchildren; and a beloved identical twin sister Dorsey.  Can't you just see the love on Judy's face--even though she's the one holding the knife?  I'm so sorry I missed the party again this year, Judy.  I've marked my calendar for June 13, 2010!

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KAY CAMPBELL

Kay is the Faith and Religion Editor at the Huntsville Times, Huntsville, AL.  She is also one of the Sun Dial Writers' Corner "disciples" of our Judy Watters, the producer of Writers' Corner.  Every year, Kay works very hard to get the Sun Dial readers together for a picnic in honor of Judy.  Kay, herself, is a much loved member of the Huntsville community.

 Where did your photo go, Kay? 

 Dr. Sandra Shattuck

A million poems could not describe the heart and soul of Sandra.  She is one of my soul-sisters, so we sort of "get" each other when, perhaps, others don't.  We love our students in much the same way and our great passions are writing and teaching, teaching and writing.  We sometimes would just like some moments to live and be, however.  If any student out there has not studied under Dr. Shattuck, it is imperative that you take a class from her and also do not whine about anything she asks you to do for classwork.  She knows what she is doing.  You will be a better writer and a better human being for knowing this beautiful face. 

 Here Sandra is reading at the Bailey Cove Branch Library on Naguib Mafhfouz's The Thief and the Dogs.

 Sandra is just now completing her first juvenile novel.  She is also one of the most incredible poets I know, and one of the most self-deprecating poets I know, as well.

 Currently, she teaches full-time at the University of Alabama in Huntsville.

Carl Malm

(For recent news about events at The Center for Loss, Grief and Change, see "News" on this website.  Read about the 14th Annual Grief Retreat at the Benedictine Sisters Retreat Center this coming August!)

Reverend Carl Malm, Grief Minister, Center for Grief, Loss and Change, and Chaplain for HealthSouth Huntsville, is a brilliant scholar and a wise student of the human condition.  If you ever find yourself in need of guidance in times of poetic or non-poetic woe, he is someone kind, gentle, and trustworthy to whom you can turn with confidence.  I give him five stars out of three.

Carl teaches history at the University of Alabama in Huntsville.  I would call Carl a philosopher, a thinker, a man of the spirit and spiritual, as opposed to the "religious."  He does not force his personal beliefs upon those who need him.  He is a man of authentic love and compassion.  He listens. He is not "perfect" and is always telling me that "No one is getting out of here 'perfected.'"  However, he is the least judgmental person I have ever met.  He is the good Samaritan we are all called to be.To contact Carl, you may call 256-883-6539, or you may email him by clicking this link: malmcarl@hotmail.com

But, Tomas, what about the Tassajara River Guard?  Will the Little Monk be prepared to light his lantern to our cabin and yell, "We sleep tonight!" without stirring up all sorts of River Guard distress?  We will think positively on this matter.  I will meet you in the cabin on the right, on the side by the flowing river, close to the herb and jasmine garden and the pool on the left in which I am always afraid to swim.  Please do not forget to leave your shoes outside the door, mon cher.  If not, the Little Monk, as we are acquainted with his tenacity, might enter and throw your shoes into the stream from the huge boulder rock.  Or, worse, he might find our stash of yummy desserts and have them for himself!  In that case, no one would sleep!  Let us sleep in peace to the sound of the river, and the next day have calming tea when the bell rings.  I will be waiting for you there, along with the Little Monk, whom we need to keep us ever so slightly in line.  Bonnie Bly

 My amazing friend, Horse, who lives behind my shed.  If you wish to adopt him, please do.  He needs a loving home.  Fred and Charlotte, editing, and my poetry demand too much of my time.  Horse deserves much better, and I hear he recites "The Wreck of the Schooner Hesperus" from beginning to end, without a single error.  But, for me, it is the eyes.  Please give Horse the royal treatment he deserves.   (Neigh?)

 FRED da Dawg in his Pumpkin Glory, Halloween Contest, Olde Towne, 2007 (Photo, Huntsville Times)

Beth Butter Norwood, of WLRH Radio, performing in audacious, umbrageous red at The Posey Peep Show!

My "pray-cious" friend Beth (below) performing at THE POSEY PEEP SHOW, soon on its way to the BIG APPLE!

Who IS that cherry-blossomed man below?

 WHY,IT'S CHARLES DONALDSON!

He sings to Bonnie via the phone (whether she is home or not), he shines from his soul, laughs, brings out the best in those around him, hides behind cherry blossoms (obviously a zen spring creature), plays drums and wooden flutes, greets the sun, gives good directions from corners in downtown Huntsville when he is home from Washington, D.C. where he does body work.  ("Body work" sounds a little "suspicious" to me!)  Charles, also known as "Uncle Charlie," is one of the major inspirations for Bonnie's poem "Do Ants Live at the Center of the Atom?"  Charles Donaldson may not write poems, but he is one.

The above is my beloved Sister Eleanor.  Here I caught her cooking in the kitchen at Sacred Heart Convent.  Benedictine Sisters are "working nuns," either at the convent, or in the world as teachers, nurses, social workers.  Sister Eleanor and I are like true sisters.  Though I am not of the Catholic Faith, Sister Eleanor has loved me, and I, her, for the thirty years in which I have been going to Sacred Heart for silent retreats and also taking Creative Writing classes there to take vows of silence for a weekend.   Sister Eleanor is my spiritual mentor--and my friend.  She has never once stood in judgment on me, nor I on her.  She is the epitome of kindness, good will, humor, and open-heartedness.  The Benedictines believe that everyone who comes through their door is to be treated in the same way they would treat Christ himself.  They have always lived up to that high standard for me.  (See Benedictine Center Schedule, under News) And, for me, especially Sister Eleanor.

Helen VaughnHelen Vaughn, painting in her former downtown studio.  Helen now has her own studio in her back yard.  The painting against the wall Here is Seated Woman, a pastel, which was the cover for my first book, To Hide in the Light.  I would not have wanted another artist in the whole universe to have done my cover.  Helen's work and my poetry resonate, just as Helen and I do as lifelong friends.  She and her husband Ed appear to be usual people, but they have worked miracles in my life.

To contact Helen, vaughnart@bellsouth.net

Robert Gray, in his office, lookinquitserious.  Rob was a superb guest reader for the 2009 Limestone Dust Poetry Festival and is my dear, dear friend.  Rob is a member of the Red Room, which is quite an honor.  Frankly, I don't know exactly what goes on in there.  Sounds pretty "fishy" to me!

Mission

"Poets Against War continues the tradition of socially engaged poetry by creating venues for poetry as a voice against war, tyranny and oppression."

www.poetsagainwar.com

Bonnie's poem, "Black and White Films Are Better" was selected by Sam Hamill for the Congressional Record.  The title was somehow omitted, but the first line reads, "I wish I had never seen red."

Read What Then Must We Do and Stretching the Creative Envelope in The Valley Planet!

 Mail short poems 40-60 lines

Short fiction 250 to 400 words

 to bonnierpoet@gmail.com

Read archived work at www.valleyplanet.com/archives

Jill Wood, Editor

Poet, Editor, Publisher, Founder of Elk River Review Press, My First Publisher

His Distinguished Books of Poetry:

Camellias in Autumn

A Taste of Wine and Gentian

 Collage: A Tribute to Steven Owen Bailey

Editor of (and contributorto): Whatever Remembers Us: An Anthology of Alabama Poets

Memoir:

 Steve's Story

To be released 2009

 John has published more poets through Elk River Review magazine and through the publication of individual poetry books than any other single publisher in Alabama.

John Chambers

(To me, he is Giovanni, who shares my love for tall cake!)

When Kennette Harrison lived in Alabama we were good friends, and she edited To Hide in the Light; in fact, she pulled it from my kitchen pantry and gave it to John Chambers who published it.  Without Kennette, my poems would still be in the kitchen pantry.  Here, we are being silly and playing with rabbits???  Kennette now lives in San Diego and enjoys the San Diego Writers Group and living on a cliff that overlooks the Pacific Ocean. 

Listen to poets like Bonnie read their poetry on  WLRH Sundial Writer's Corner

Visit WLRH 89.3 Public Radio online!

Bonnie's friend Judy Watters produces Sundial, and is beloved by all Huntsville poets and writers.  Bonnie's friend Beth Norwood works at WLRH, and she and Bonnie exchange stories of the gothic South via e-mail!  Beth. in Bonnie's opinion, writes more like Flannery O'Connor than Flannery O'Connor!

Robert Gray

Visit poet Robert Gray online at the The Red Room.  (See what I mean about The Red Room?  Strange stuff goes on in there!  Will someone please invite me?  I bet Jesus would, if you would just tell him.

Readings and events, poets forum, National Poetry Month information at Academy of American Poets, and more at

www.poets.org