Walking Through Turquoise launches Sept. 19-20

WTTcover2

Walking Through Turquoise, Laurie MacFayden’s third book of poetry, continues to explore the secrets and flirtations mined in her previous titles, White Shirt and Kissing Keeps Us Afloat. The sweet, clumsy intricacies of relationships; things you want to shout from rooftops but can’t; that tickle in your gut the first time she calls you honeyMacFayden ponders a one-way trip to Mars, the turmoil of clouds, the majesty of moonstone. ‘How can desire survive the tragedy of human aging?’ she asks, never losing sight of the joyous, wet, throbbing hallelujah. Walking Through Turquoise is a celebration of the glorious, swirling twine that binds us to things of this earth and beyond.

 

can you be buried in a canoe?
can you paddle on through
and come out the other side?
if the dog jumps out will the vessel tip?
at the bottom of the lake
will your toes find mud or bone?
between the shore and the floating dock,
whose sad, lonely cry swims you home?
— excerpt, red canoe

 

Published by Frontenac House, Walking Through Turquoise is part of Quartet 2017 which also features A Tincture of Sunlight, Vivian Hansen; The Riparian, Lisa Pasold; and This Wound is a World, Billy-Ray Belcourt.

Calgary launch: Tuesday, Sept. 19, Wordfest space, Memorial Park Library, 7-9 p.m. Author readings and refreshments.
Edmonton launch: Wednesday, Sept. 20, The Almanac, 10351 82 (Whyte) Ave., 7-9 p.m. Author readings and refreshments.

the map of our world has no beginning or end
our cartography tells us not where we’ve been
or where we need to go, merely:
where we are joined is at the chest,
the welcoming corner bone of hip,
the intersection of dusk and constellation
joined by alchemy, spirits of the woods,
by hobo roads and caution stones
— excerpt, world map

Advertisements

Richard Harrison book launch

Poetry reading and book signing to launch Richard Harrison’s new book,
On Not Losing My Father’s Ashes in the Flood (Wolsak & Wynn). 
Also reading: Nasra Adem, Laurie MacFayden, Thomas Wharton
WHEN: ThursdayDec. 1, 2016; 7pm-830pm
WHERE: ChVrch of John, 10260 103 St, Edmonton

THE READERS


Richard Harrison – On Not Losing My Father’s Ashes in the Flood
Richard Harrison is an award-winning poet, essayist and editor. His six books of poetry include Big Breath of a Wish, poems about his daughter’s acquisition of language, and Hero of the Play, poems in the language of hockey. He has published writings on literary criticism, comic culture, creative writing and mathematics. Richard also contributes to the scholarship on the superhero: with MRU colleague Lee Easton, he co-authored the book of essays, Secret Identity Reader (2010). Richard teaches composition, creative writing (poetry), and comics and graphic novels. After 11 years, Richard Harrison returns to poetry with a moving tribute to his late father in On Not Losing My Father’s Ashes in the Flood.

The great Alberta flood of 2013 slides through Richard Harrison’s latest collection, its rising waters pulling his books of poetry off their shelves, washing the ink from letters kept in boxes in the basement and threatening to carry off his father’s ashes. On these waters float Harrison’s mourning for his father, who suffered a form of dementia later in life but never forgot the poems he’d memorized as a young man. Alongside these, the waters also carry Harrison’s love of comic books, his struggles with the haiku and his willingness to stay in the game, “to try again.” Combining elements of memoir, elegy, lyrical essay and personal correspondence, On Not Losing My Father’s Ashes in the Flood is a generous and enchanting book, one that leaves you, like the poet, thinking about the way “characters in a novel can escape anything/except their story.”

Nasra Adem
Nasra Adem, 22, is a multidisciplinary artist and current Youth Poet Laureate of Edmonton. She has performed at poetry and spoken word festivals across North America. Nasra studied musical theatre at MacEwan University and is  the founder of Sister 2 Sister: a monthly showcase of women artists of colour and the curator for Black Arts Matter, Edmonton’s first all-Black arts festival. Devoted to creative and spiritual authenticity, Nasra is uses her artistic practice as a way of breaking barriers, reimagining realities and creating forward momentum within her communities.
Laurie MacFayden
Laurie MacFayden is an Edmonton-based poet, visual artist and journalist. In addition to two award-winning books of poetry, Kissing Keeps Us Afloat and White Shirt, her writing has appeared in The New QuarterlyFreeFall, Queering the Way, Alberta Views, and online at canadianpoetries.com and DailyHaiku. Her work has been performed in Edmonton’s Loud & Queer Cabaret, Skirts Afire herArts Festival, Read and Write With Pride, and Calgary’s Q the Arts cultural festival. Her third book with Frontenac House, You Can’t Tell, will be released in September 2017.
Thomas Wharton  
Thomas Wharton’s most recent book is Rutherford the Time-Travelling Moose, a children’s story about the history of Edmonton. His first novel, Icefields, won the Commonwealth Writer’s Prize for Best First Book, Canada/Caribbean division, and the inaugural Banff Mountain Book grand prize. His second novel, Salamander, was shortlisted for the Governor-General’s Literary Award and the Rogers Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize. He has published a three-volume fantasy for younger readers, The Perilous Realm. He is currently working on a collection of short fiction.

i dreamed this gorgeous thing

gorgeous3

i dreamed this gorgeous thing
assumed it was you
but maybe it was just a sunflower
masquerading as a star

maybe it was another black bird
with metallic purple highlights
and a nest of shiny spoons

maybe it was someone from the other side,
an aunt or a gifted grandmother
pushing across waves of candyfloss love
with a hint of lily of the valley

maybe it was space creatures picking at my brain,
pretending to be a healing stone
and faking the gorgeous feeling
maybe it was the brandy nightcap,
colouring the gorgeous with a slow amber burn
and balloon lifting

maybe this gorgeous thing was my own heart,
singing its own gorgeous song
the one it sings when it thinks everyone has gone away

maybe this gorgeous dreaming thing
was a dream within a gorgeous dream
and edith piaf was floating above my pillow
crooning in my ear about regrets and her gorgeous lover
maybe piaf was trying to tell me
it’s time to paint the sparrows

maybe the gorgeous thing was all about the waking
maybe we are all gorgeous, gleaming souls
and need to be reminded of this
maybe the soft air
maybe the cats on the end of the bed
maybe the creaking roof, the kitchen sprites

maybe my gorgeous dream thing
was a big clue with regard
to the rest of my big gorgeous life
maybe it was the collective unconscious
feeling the need to inflict
a playful nudge nudge, wink wink
maybe it was god or someone of that ilk
sprinkling a smattering of divine glitter
onto my flannel sheets
so i would think all is right with the world
even as the dream’s frozen edges
revealed themselves to be grey and sombre blue

maybe that gorgeous dream
was not meant to be analysed to death.
maybe just accept its gorgeous fleeting presence
and move on.

maybe put away the butterfly net
maybe sleep will come again
and i will dream another gorgeous thing before i die.

 

march 24, 2012
prompt: i dreamed this gorgeous thing: franz wright

_______________________________

Below The Line:

Gorgeous is not something you can hold in your hand

Daughters

The daughters wore saddle shoes.
The daughters read Nancy Drew and Freddy the Pig.
The daughers played with jumpropes and hulahoops.
The daughters got glitter paint sets and beads for their birthdays.
The daughters watched All In The Family and The Mary Tyler Moore Show.
The daughters listened to transistor radios under the covers and bought Beatles 45s.
The daughters hung out in Keenans’ music store and didn’t tell their mothers
they’d bought Son Of A Preacher Man because they just knew there was
something about Dusty Springfield that would meet with disapproval.

The daughters rode around with boys in cars and listened to 8-tracks
and bought cokes and chips in the Woolworth’s cafeteria.
The daughters smoked Rothman’s behind the Mac’s Milk store
when they were supposed to be at the library.
The daughters rode 10-speeds to the private beach
and pretended their fathers were members of the club.
The daughters convinced their mothers to let them wear bikinis.

The daughters were told they could be whatever they wanted to be.
The daughters were encouraged to go to law school and Paris.
The daughters read Livesay and Atwood
and took Polaroids of their friends.
The daughters snuck into the bar with fake IDs
and got their family doctors to promise not to tell their parents
they were on The Pill.

Feb. 12, 2011