Finding an ending for poems
for me is hard.
Sometimes I want to end it as if I’m right there with you,
like stage direction.
I rip open my heart and plant her.
but that doesn’t leave the space the imagination or savory-ness for the reader
poems are meant to be savored, flavored, dare I say to be read again…for depth, for the sentiment, feeling and clarity…
poems are mini surprises
poems and writing for children go hand in hand.
Just like how writing novels/prose and poetry are friends like right hand and left hand.
What is good scene but poetry played out…
or a poetic metaphor disguised a twist in a chapter…
Finding my Latina/Chicana/Midewest/Mexican/Migrant poetic voice is like going back to my child heart
finding all the rays, los dichos, los abrazos de palabras and sifting through that and finding a wholesome freshly pressed tortilla. for me that’s perfection. a pressed circle perfect tortilla.
I was amazed at the simple tool that could do more than my hands ever could.
Don’t get me started regarding the tortillerias… Thats the big machine assembly line that makes them by the dozens…
Career plan B at age 8.
Hmmmm so many possibilities for poems of simple tortillas, round stories of corn, heat, and heart.