Otis Knoop, 13 On some days, I just like to walk Across the street and into the park Contemplating life. Around me, nature is content. Leaves swirl around my figure The large trees sway as I walk by The clouds darken, casting a blanket over the treetops My sanctuary. As the flora and fauna alike prepare for the oncoming rain Winged seeds come floating down, puppets under the wind The breeze picks up, as the wind howls like a brute The first raindrops kiss my cheeks as I stare up into the clouds and smile. My sanctuary. Thunder rumbles, lightning cracks, and the squirrels quiver, deep in their dens And then the rain comes, buckets that pour down until they are swallowed by the soil Providing sustenance for the sapling, but comfort for the old tired oak And I am in the center of it all. My sanctuary. I lay down in the wet grass as the storm passes, beads of sunshine dancing on my face The park is life The park is death Thunder, lighting, chaos, and then calm arises. A continuous cycle of problems and solutions, living and dying, joy, and sadness. I wash away the dirt clouding my mind and come back to it. My sanctuary. As I lay there, the cool, wet air enveloping me, I know that I have escaped. From the screens, the eyes, the faces, the boxes, the masks, the tests, the tears, and the pain. I get up, the mud clawing at my clothes, wishing me to stay like the host of a party. The party of ugliness and beauty that surrounds us all And as I stare, I see the sun parting the clouds like a curtain, and my thoughts turn homeward.
poetry
Saturday Newsletter: June 19, 2021
“Untitled” (acrylic)By Halil (Syria), created with the support of the Inside-Outside Project and published in Stone Soup June 2021. Artist description of the piece (translated from Arabic): There is something hiding behind the painting. There is a ghost behind it. It is the ghost of someone. (Who?) (No answer to that.) It is not me (says the artist); it is another girl who is afraid. The ghost frightens people, but it does not hurt them. (What does the girl in the picture say?) The girl (in the picture) says the ghost came to her. (What does the girl say to you about the ghost?) She told me so we can help her. A note from Conner World Refugee Day and the Stone Soup Refugee Project June 20 is World Refugee Day, a day of observance to raise awareness about the plight of refugees and to demonstrate a commitment that the world’s forcibly displaced people are not left behind. According to the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, there are approximately 70 million people who have been forcibly displaced from their homes, 25.9 million of whom have official refugee status. Over half of the world’s refugee population is under eighteen years of age. So often, media portrays refugee children as the subject of a narrative. We at Stone Soup are committed to providing a platform for refugee children to use their voice to tell their own stories. The Stone Soup Refugee Project, in collaboration with seven organizations and refugee camps, has collected close to 200 pieces of creative work, including paintings, photography, poetry, and plays, from children living in refugee camps and host countries around the world. These children have fled their homes in Syria, Afghanistan, Burundi, Tanzania, and Thailand, among other places. They have been resettled in countries including Australia, the United States, Turkey, and Greece. Refugee camps represented in our submissions thus far include Za’atari Refugee Camp in Jordan; Umphiem Refugee Camp in Thailand; and Vasilika, Ristsona, and Moria Refugee Camps in Greece. We are excited to announce that these works are currently on display and will soon be free and publicly accessible in our newly created Refugee Project website, which you can explore here. A Little About Myself I received an MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and have just finished up my PhD at the University of California, Santa Cruz, and accepted a tenure-track professorship of creative writing at Albright College in Pennsylvania. I’ve been teaching some of the Stone Soup Writing Workshops since April, where I’ve had the pleasure to interact and write with some of you. This summer I will also be offering a class on playwriting via the Society of Young Inklings. Weekend Project This week, I want to showcase Rainer Pasca’s strange and beautiful poems—poems that call our attention to the processes and mechanisms of attention itself. Here I focus on Rainer’s poem “Rumi on the Table.” Like many great poems, “Rumi on the Table” tells the story of its own inception—the moment the poet aims to possess that which possesses the poet. It presents the act of poetic creation as its subject matter. The poem, therefore, teaches us how to see and think like poets. 1. I’m thinking of nothing. My head is empty like a garbage can. The poem reminds me of Wallace Stevens’s poem “The Snow Man,” which tells us to have “a mind of winter”—a blank mind—to see the world anew. Rainer takes up this injunction: “My head is an empty garbage can.” Of course, the key word is “empty”—free of metaphorical trash: assumptions, preconceptions, and prejudices. A mind of winter, thinking of nothing, is a poet’s mind: ready to see the world as it is. 2. Hey, look. Rumi is on the table. Rumi, why don’t we make a poem? When the poet’s mind is empty, seeing becomes an act of collaboration. To perceive is to perceive with. In these lines, the poet sees Rumi (a cat and a famous mystical poet) and asks to see as Rumi sees. 3. He’s purring! Awww, he is purring the poem. I love you, Rumi. You’re the king of gold. Rainer and Rumi make a poem together. The poem is a collaboration. In the final couplet, the poem becomes a celebration, an ode, a song, a love poem. This week, I suggest that you write collaboratively. Try to write a poem or story with someone or something else. Go out into the world and write with a “mind of winter,” “thinking of nothing.” What will you hear? What will you see? Until next time, Book Contest 2021 For information on submitting to the Stone Soup Book Contest 2021, please click here. To submit your manuscript, please visit our submittable site. Congratulations to our most recent Flash Contest winners! Our June Flash Contest was based on Creativity Prompt #156, provided by sagacious ’20—21 Intern Sage Millen, challenging participants to interview a grandparent/older friend about a memorable moment from their childhood and to write that memory as a first person story. This clever prompt afforded those who participated with the opportunity to get closer to the elderly than ever before, allowing them to literally inhabit the perspective of their interviewee. These submissions followed no similar narrative arc, though each and every one did provide a unique window into various cultures of the past. Submissions ranged from tales of a smoking car radiator stuffed with gum to a mishap with homemade firecrackers in Taiwan to a poetic vignette about a car crash, plus much, much more. Thank you to all who submitted this month; it was a pleasure to read your work. Congratulations to our winners and honorable mentions, listed below. You can read the winning entries for this contest (and previous ones) at the Stone Soup website. Winners “4 Blocks” by Katherine Bergsieker, 13, (Denver, CO) “Nature’s Lullaby” by Mariana Del Rio, 12, (Strongsville, OH) “Still Life in Which Everything is on Fire” by Arishka Jha, 12, (Redwood City, CA) “A Love that Lasts a Lifetime” by Pranjoli Sadhukha, 11, (Newark, OH) “Rocket Trouble”
Mother
Caretaker of the House, Cooker, Organizer of Paraphernalia, Player of Music, and Reminder of Kindness; Motivated, strict, loving, Mother of our Home: They tell me your house is small with little room to work and I believe them, for I belong in this house, smelling every scent there is to smell and touching everything that is there to touch. They tell me this house is beautiful: with the lamps shining brightly through the windows and the shrubbery out front cut to its perfect place. They say they see the order of the crimson bricks and I reply: I see them every day, walking along the path, or climbing up the trees, facing our house. They say they see the woman with the basket of laundry, hanging up fabric with clothespins on the line, maybe tending to the flowers and I turn once more and say: I know that woman from all my life, you might say I see her daily. I say: Come and show me another woman who does as much work as this: washing dishes, taking flower’s care, helping out with our belonging animals, and feeding the hungry mouths that need food. No one can be better who does as much work as she, sweet care she gives to all, questions she asks out of curiosity and care. As strong as Hercules himself, using this through her mind and body, clever with her soul and spirits that perform the way she is now, Caring, Loving, Strict, Firm, Trying, failing, retrying, Under the sheet of moon or in the middle of the dusty dawn, finding ways to go through the busy work of day, Under the rippling sun with work to do in yards and rapid trips to drive, never giving up through all the tough times, Under the scary circumstances of arguments, giving advice and gaining trust through all that she tries to teach us, Under the times of impossible, where nothing seems to get done or ever begins to work with determination and effort, Smiling! Smiling the motivated, strict, loving smile of strength, having pride to be Caretaker of the House, Cooker, Organizer of Paraphernalia, Player of Music, and Reminder of Kindness.