Showing posts with label Oscar Bermeo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oscar Bermeo. Show all posts

Saturday, April 12, 2014

Honorable Mentions for the Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize



As we have in the past three editions, we received 70 + manuscripts for the Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize. We forwarded 22 of them to our final judge. Here is what she had to say about four that she has designated as "honorable mentions."

Rhina P. Espaillat writes:

In addition to the winner, four among these manuscripts strike me as exceptional, the work of authors I am sure the future will be glad to hear from:

Once Upon a Time When I Was Mexican
by Gilbert Arzola,
for its profoundly moving account of lives that the reader is made to care about, and for the dignity of characters evoked in clean, lyrical language.

Heaven Below
by Oscar Bermeo,
for its skillful use of traditional prosodic devices, and the apt choice of a few strict forms used in unexpected contexts.

Burning Iris
by Fernando Pérez,
for its marvelous, often surreal imagery, and for linguistic daring: this poet is not afraid to take risks.

Stereo. Island. Mosaic
by Vincent Toro,
for the descriptive flair with which the poet creates the landscape and atmosphere of the Caribbean without evoking Hollywood scenery, and the genuine feel of childhood memories recaptured. The use of the decima as a form is inspired, and helps to fuse the poet’s two literary “homes.”

***

We will be announcing the winner on Monday, April 14, at the conclusion of the reading featuring our last winner, Laurie Ann Guerrero, and our last final judge, Francisco X. Alarcón.

Our deep gratitude to all the poets who submitted.

Monday, April 30, 2012

Latin@ Featured Poets


Carmen Giménez Smith @ Words on a Wire

Benjamin Alire Sáenz and Daniel Chacón of Words on a Wire—a weekly radio show on fiction, poetry and of all other things concerning writing and its various communities—talk with poet, writer and educator Carmen Giménez Smith on how she manages to blend her role as mother, and educator with her vocation as a poet and writer, and also reads her poem Photo of a Girl on the Beach.” 

Carmen Giménez Smith, teaches creative writing at New Mexico State University in Las Cruces, NM. Giménez Smith, is also slated to read in installment four of Latino/a Poetry Now at the University of Arizona’s Poetry Center, her latest collection is Goodbye, Flicker (Univ. of Massachusetts Press, 2012) for which she was awarded the Juniper Prize for Poetry

“If I thought of something I wanted to write, it had to be something that I could remember because I was holding a baby,” and so Giménez Smith explains her journey toward a form that could gave shape to the lyric essays in her memoir Bring Down the Little Birds: On Mothering, Art, Work, and Everything Else (Camino del Sol, 2010). Of Bring Down the Little Birds, Ariel Gore said: Carmen Giménez Smith “elevates the motherhood memoir to pure poetry. Who are we, beyond somebody's mother and somebody's daughter? Bring Down the Little Birds dives into all the rich and irritating questions with heart, guts, and humor."

                [Listen Here.]

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Blas Falconer @ Nashville Review

The Mary Pickford Theater, hosting Letras Latinas at a Library of Congress event, recently featured poet Blas Falconer and writer Lorraine López, co-editors of the recent anthology The Other Latin@: Writing Against a Singular Identity, discussing the contemporary state of Latino/a literature.

Besides being an editor at the forefront of literary criticism, spurring inquiry and dialogue on the multitude of aesthetics behind the apparent homogeneity hidden behind the label “Latino/a literature,” Falconer is a poet in his own right and is currently featured at Nashville Review with the poems “The Foundling Wheel,” “Prayer,” and “A Proof.”

Blas Falconer is slated to read in the final installment of Latino/a Poetry Now at the University of Notre Dame and is the co-editor of The Other Latin@: Writing Against a Singular Identity (University of Arizona Press, 2011) and of the forthcoming      The Foundling Wheel (Four Way Books, 2012).

Two visual gems from “The Foundling Wheel:”

“The hand that throws___
__            the stone recalls its weight.”

and

“the child sleeps beside our bed

and you make toast with red plum jam.”

                [Continue Reading.]

*

Rich Villar @ At Latino USA (NPR)

With his poem “Testimony #2,” Rich Villar is featured on National Public Radio’s Latino USA. Rich Villar is the director of Acentos, a community organization that works to promote Latino literature. His work has appeared on Beltway Poetry Quarterly, Amistad, El Centro’s Letras, Latino Poetry Review, and the acclaimed chapbook series Achiote Seeds.

Testimony #2” is a beautifully written song that captivates and carries the listener into that magical place where poet and muse dance. Where the poet feels most alive:

Some gems, I particularly liked:

“She dreams Williamsburg, before graying hipsters.”

“She dreams The Eagles unplugged on the sound track.”

“She dreams in bossa nova.”

“She dreams universes spinning at her fingertips.”

“She dreams me happy.”

“She dreams me happy.”

“She dreams and I want sleep

if sleep is the bridge I must cross to her door.”

                [Listen Here.]

*
Ruben Quesada @ The Rumpus
  
Ruben Quesada is the author of Next Extinct Mammal (Greenhouse Review Press, 2011). He teaches literature and creative writing at Texas Tech University and currently serves as Editor at “Codex Journal” and Poetry Editor at “The Cossack Review,” and contributor at “Fringe Magazine.” Ruben’s poem “On Style” is currently featured at The Rumpus. An ekphrastic poem, where we find Henri Matisse in “the aching umbra of his room,” or in “the back-scattered light of dawn/ straddling the horizon.”

                [Continue Reading.]

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Raina J. León @ OmniVerse

Latino/a Poetry Now featured poet, Raina J. León who along with Maria Melendez, Blas Falconer and John Murillo will conclude this national reading tour at the campus of the University of Notre Dame in the fall of 2013, is currently featured at OmniVerse with her poem “Between the sea and prayer.” Raina J. León’s first collection of poetry, Canticle of Idols, was a finalist for both the Cave Canem First Book Poetry Prize (2005) and the Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize (2006). Her second manuscript, Boogeyman Dawn, was a finalist for the Naomi Long Madgett Prize (2010) and is forthcoming from Salmon Poetry. “Between the sea and prayer” is from her third manuscript How to Live Forever: A Tango Criollo, and which centers on “revelations of spirit that occur through immersion into the other.” In this poem, a family is portrayed at dawn surrounded by the

“Hagia Sophia, Topkapi Palace,
the Blue Mosque. They rise from the burning
mist while the sun gilds the earth with tender light.”

Here the city of Istanbul becomes resonant with the holy, which reveals itself through the architecture, through the dust itself.

                [Continue Reading.]

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Oscar Bermeo @ The Rumpus

Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize finalist, Oscar Bermeo is currently featured at The Rumpus with his poem “Barry Bonds on the Witness Stand.” Born in Ecuador and raised in the Bronx, Oscar is the author of the poetry chapbooks Anywhere Avenue, Palimpsest, Heaven Below and To the Break Dawn. He makes his home in Oakland, California with his wife, poeta, Barbara Jane Reyes.

Now an excerpt from the Barry Bonds poem over at The Rumpus:

“That’s why I’m really here. My crime is never forgetting how your newspapers dogged
out my father. Hyped him to the high heavens, then dropped him at an open bar where
he had to learn to crawl through the bar sawdust floor before he could run again. And
every time he ran the press was right there, ready to remind the world how the bottle
was running just as fast behind him.”

                [Continue Reading.]

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Progress of a Poet: Oscar Bermeo


In Anywhere Avenue, it was "Sonnet for the Lexington Avenue Express--Mt. Eden Stop" with its use of form to inform---in the speaker's case, the exhilaration of riding public transportation without paying a dime. In Palimpsest, "Fire Escape" is a long piece that relied on a particular brand of repetition that's pulled off admirably and which I'd read in a literary journal. There were others I enjoyed, to be sure, but these are the pieces that immediately come to mind.

I'm speaking, of course, of Oscar Bermeo's collections. He seems to be putting them out at regular intervals and I've come to look forward to them. I was delighted to find Heaven Below in my mailbox at work a few days ago. Before I say something about about a couple of the poems further below, I want to say something about what I'm coming view as a particular gesture of generosity in putting these out in this fashion: I especially enjoy and appreciate Bermeo's attention to particular details, from the copyright page which states:

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. To a view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/license/by-nc-na/3.0/us/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 171 Second Street, Suite 300, San Francisco, California, 94105, USA.

To the dedication on the same page, which reads:

For Jack Agüeros, the poet activist who taught me to write sonnets and psalms.

To the inside cover at the back, where he's been including, in addition to the habitual acknowledgments and expressions of gratitude.... another section he calls "Influences." It reads:

"Influences

A partial list of literary influences that have helped me in this project:
*187 Reasons Mexicanos Can't Cross the Border: Undocuments 1971-2007 by Juan Felipe Herrera (City Lights Publishers, 2007)
*The Cricket Sings: Poems and Songs for Children by Federico García Lorca (New Directions, 1980)
*Dérive by Bruno Mori (poems) and Matthew Kinney (paintings) (Meritage Press, 2006)
*Easter Sunday by Barbara Jane Reyes (Ypolita Press, 2008)
*Lord, Is This a Psalm? by Jack Agüeros (Hanging Loose Press, 1996)
*Nathaniel Mackey (poems) and Hafez Modirzadeh (music), performance at the de Young Museum Poetry Series, Koret Auditorium, September 7, 2007
*The Splinter Factory by Jeffrey McDaniel (Manic D Press, 2002)
*Why Buildings Fall Down: How Structures Fail by Matthys Levy and Mario Salvadori (W.W. Norton & Company, 1994)

I hadn't given these sections much thought until recently. In an interview I read many many years ago, Thom Gunn asserts, matter-of-factly, that he considered himself a "derivative poet." He meant it as a positive---that he was part of a tradition and didn't write in a vacuum, and he wasn't shy about stating which poets he strove to emulate and was inspired by. Bermeo recently mentioned on his blog that one of the items of feedback he got at the recent VONA conference was that he

need [ed] to get past [his] attribution poem phase. [He's] imitated and borrowed from a variety of authors but [he] need[s] to risk more and trust in [his] voice.

I might have said: keep doing what you're doing because you're doing it well, AND consider venturing beyond what might be considered a comfort zone. And yet when I read that list of influences above, I read a serious and dedicated artist who is wonderfully promiscuous.

Don't stop. Don't subtract. Add to. Expand.

Which is a good way to transition into two terrific poems that illustrate, I think, what I mean by Bermeo's promiscuity. First off, one of the things I love about these collections is how they mix their genres: verse and prose, prose and verse. "Ash Wednesday," a prose poem is an absolute gem. It starts:

as you enter paradise as you enter with smoke as you enter with accelerant as you enter with perfume with gasoline with flint with spice your mouth full your mouth full of ritual....

and continues on, bereft of any punctuation whatsoever, ending:

this willingness to accept this smoke this prayer this test this fate this lift this dust this

I was reading this and no: I wasn't thinking or hearing Eliot. I was thinking and remembering:

and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes

But I wasn't reading James Joyce I was reading Oscar Bermeo but also hearing Joyce and hearing Bermeo and enjoying it very very much very. Having said that, it's crucial to underscore that what seduces me about "Ash Wednesday" isn't the mere fact of this punctuation-less, stream-of-consciousness technique, but rather Bermeo's careful and effective deployment of it. The words are carefully placed so that the reader is invited to collaborate: through the poet's very deliberate use of word and phrase repetition, readers are playfully challenged to provide their own pauses and stops---in short, to join forces with the poet to help create the poem's own organic rhythm and grammar. It's this process of physical collaboration (speeding up, slowing down) that produces the poem's aesthetic pleasure. Indeed: as I progressed, it felt like I was uttering a prayer.

*

"Orchard Beach: Section Four" (After Robert Francis' "Silent Poem") has not, as of yet, prompted me to go seek out Francis' poem. I love the poem without knowing its inspiration. I love its particular "meter:" its use of two-syllable words in "lines" that alternate between four words/two words/four words/two words. Sometimes they're verbs; sometimes their nouns. What they share in common is that they are all (with the exception of "orchard," which frames the piece) compound words, words made up of two words. (I thought of Heaney; I thought of Pound's ideogram....) And I was thinking about the song "Under the Boardwalk" as I read:

boardwalk beercans boombox bodyrock
...
suresurf shorebreak gonebreath nosleep
...
handhold armknot legtwine hiplock

It's Bermeo trying this or that poem on for size, but bringing his baggage---and I mean baggage in a good way--- to the piece, transforming it, making the work his own.