A POEM OF ONE'S OWN
The Voice of Women In Poetry
This site is dedicated to all things POETCHRY, so I will begin by introducing the picnic tables one by one that have been released from the wilds of the glorious imagine nation of the Peoples Republic of Poetry, and that have safely landed in Canada’s Poemtown, Cobourg, ON.
A POEM OF ONE’S OWN, The Voice of Women In Poetry.
This picnic table will be an annual series. The first curator for this table was Kate Hoogendam, aka, Merkat. She captured my poetic heart years ago when she launched her first chapbook, in a community hall in a village, nay, a hamlet, north of the 401 no less. This was astonishing because I had become such an urbanbot from decades of living in the centre of the unitverse. A chapbook launch in a hamlet north of the 401 seemed am audacious idea. I spread the word to other local poets, mooched a ride, and listened to Katie talk about her poetry, her life, her poetry, family and poetry.
I was struck by her authenticity. Her poems were visceral, organic, untouched by the conformities of academia. That was refreshing. It was also refreshing for a group of women poets that collaborated in poetry production, that, in turn, lead to the launch of another chapbook of poems, Liminal Spaces, composed by Kathryn MacDonald, Felicity Sidnell Reid, Gwynn Scheltema. And Kate Hoogndam. Their chapbook can be purchased at Reader’s Nook
So there you have it; Katie is strongly independent, without being distant, she has the spirit and energy of a crackling campfire, and she has a feature that I value in humans, nimbleness of mind. That is what compelled me invite her to curate the world’s first women’s Picnic Table of women’s poetry. I am so glad I had done that.
Katie was tasked to call for the submission of poems from her stable of women poet friends and contacts. POETCHRY set the line limit for poems, because there is only so much real estate on a picnic tabletop. She was further tasked with selecting the tapestry that will be used to cover the table at unveiling ceremonies. The privilege of first continued with the task of naming. She got to name the series going forward.
Every year, POETCHRY, will produce A POEM OF ONE”S OWN, the Voice of Women In Poetry. Katie has one remaining task as curator of the women’s table. She must select another woman who will consent to curate the next table of women’s poetry. Who and where this will go over the years is anyone’s guess, which is the beauty of it. So, stay tuned.
The following are the list of poets and the titles of their poems that appear on Volume 1 of A POEM OF ONE’S OWN, the Voice of Women In Poetry:
Jennifer Trefiak, Baamaapii (See You Again)
“ I love you.
Those words thrown like glitter
coated us in iridescence
too numerous to ever brush away.
Marie-Lynn Hammond, Because
“because the dim moon made a woman in a bare room weep
because the bare room and its dreams once held her lover
because some dreams had sharper edges than the others
because sharp edges soften when time calls to them”
Jamie Ashforth, Grief
“Grief is the distance
between motherland and pillow
the ache of every beauty
the space between wanting and forgetting”
Nik Bea, Homecoming
“remember, roots and wings can be entwined and untangled
So when – and if – you’re ready, you can always come home
For it will always hold space for the person you became.
And the person you have yet to become.”
Linda Hutsell Manning, My Eightieth Year
Kate Hoogendam, Ode to All Women Everywhere, for My Daughter
“It’s not a holiday, not even a Saturday, not even midnight—
just another Tuesday, quarter past two
the minstrel singing is the dishwasher humming
the trumpeters blaring are Vs of geese honking
and God, I can’t imagine
a more beautiful human
as human, as beautiful
as you.”
Meghan Sheffield, Summer Comes In
“Here night ends,
from here all the edges are golden.
Wherever you are, know that there is
good coming which you cannot see.”
Lyss Warmland, Through The Fog
“as it rolls over these hills in this
place we live where
I raise my son where
the forest canopy softens the gusts of
wind that threaten to destroy the tent canopy
Marie Prins, Yard Work In April, a poem for a daughter born on Earth Day
