It’s an itch I can’t stop scratching: the voluminous consumption of poetics. Half the time, I hate it. All of the time, I can’t stop with it. My ear piques at a whispered mention of “open mic”, I check my schedule. I’ve sworn off the writing of it more times than I can count: my friends laugh, “Again?” A new book of poems is irresistible, so long as it is small, no more than 75 pages. Tomes are too much. One can only take so many metaphors. Wait, I can’t get enough.
I believe the reason poems are so tantalizing is because my genetics are begging for them. Poetry has been with us since we developed memories. Originally, this was the way we passed down knowledge: history, myths, names of stars and plants, ethics, maps, our cultural identity, ritual and faith. Poetry carried science and spirit and health, botany and cartography into the modern age. People told stories that rhymed so they would be easy to remember. Poetry invented mnemonics.
All of my ancestors speak the language of verse, know poems by heart. It’s no wonder I’m compelled to memorize. I’ve learned the hard way, though, that no one wants to hear them. Of all the celebration about my sobriety, the one I hear the most is “now we don’t have to listen to you doing poems every night anymore!” Cringe … on both our hearts. But friends, I whisper to you this morning … I’m still doing poems every night. I find and ferret those who still hold the ear of the old gods, who cherish the play of language and depth of feeling, the carrying of the people’s history.
I wax poetic.
All of this is to say, my dear friend and devout poetess, Rhiannon Dickerson, is doing something really cool: Poetry takes (P)residence. She’s hosting three summer shindigs at The Brick in downtown KC which braids together poets and musicians for a night of celebration of the word and the rhythm. Alej Martinez, new Charlotte Street Resident, river rat, proto-shaman, and hilarious; Glenn North, a founder of KC poetry (imho), blues man, ringmaster, and potent; Rhiannon herself, winner of a Rocket Grant for this project, ethereal, boss-witch and passionate; and me will be taking turns on the stage with some excellent bands.
The first event is Friday, June 21, doors at 7, $10. You can buy tickets here!
Listen to the ancient ones, hear your ancestors, recall that oral tradition is one of our deepest traditions, remember poetry.
this week:
Friday, June 21:
Poetry takes (P)residence at The Brick! doors at 7, $10. You can buy tickets here!Saturday/Sunday, June 22/23:
KC ZINE CON!
every week:
Thursdays:
11 am Nettie teaches meditation at Inner Space Yoga, free class, 45 minutes long, register on the website to attend. or just show up, it’s all good!
upcoming:
Saturday, June 29:
Mind Games: the Art and Play of Meditation: an evening of mindfulness games and community. FREE at InterUrban ArtHouse
July 4-18:
Camping the Ouachita National ForestFriday, July 19:
Poetry takes (P)Residence at the Brick! more info TBA
Thursday, August 1:
featured reading with River Cow Orchestra Jazz and Poetry event at Westport Coffeehouse, doors at 6:30 pm
Saturday, August 10:
9-noon I’ll be at the Ivanhoe Farmers Market doing Tarot Portraits!
Friday, August 16:
Poetry takes (P)Residence at the Brick! 7 pmIt’s the Little Things art opening at IUAH 5-8
Saturday, September 14:
9-noon I’ll be at the Ivanhoe Farmers Market doing Tarot Portraits!
Friday, September 20:
It’s the Little Things Closing Reception, and my birthday: 48!
check out my new website!
this is my dysfunctional blog
oh my youtube channel is full of freakish delights
Books by Nettie for purchase:
a shame to point at the moon and see only the finger: 2024 book of persona poems
everything i never told you is all i have to say: 2024 book of epistolary prose poems written from the narrator Bitter Crone
Ozark Love Poems and a Song of Despair: 2023 sonnets and a song. very nice!
Dive Zine: 2017 art-book reproduction describing my time with Cotard’s Syndrome
Sage: 2017 art book about womanhood, now resides in the Nelson-Atkins local artists collection
poetry speaks without the limitations of the civilized tongue! carry on, word wizard! we need that rewilding!