Tuesday poem: 'My mother and the projectionist', by Jenny Powell

My mother and the projectionist

She always missed
the beginnings, too busy
tidying minties and jubes,
stacking the chocolate,
cleaning her silver scoop.

If it was Mario Lanza
she wore her smock
with the smouldering
flair of a leading lady,
her hair plaited and coiled
in case he turned his gaze
to her seat in the circle,
close to the exit.

When she fell in love
with the projectionist
her life became a film.
Climbing the steps slow
and sultry she slid
into his room. They were
reel to reel, breath
to breath, body to body.

In the third drawer down
She hid his photo for 40 years
under a pile of jerseys.
A black and white flicker
of time on a silent screen.



This poem comes from Jenny Powell's latest book Ticket Home, a lovely hand-made chapbook from Cold Hub Press, who are busy over in Governor's Bay creating new New Zealand publications.

Jenny was the guest reader at the Poetry Society last night. It's been quite a few years since I've seen her read, and I really enjoyed hearing her again. This time I really noticed how she plays with rhyme and alliteration in her work - it's so much clearer when you hear it out loud. I have to confess I was a bit sleepy after the AGM, but she woke me up with her energetic reading style - especially with her first poem 'Southern woman' from Four French Horns.

She read quite a bit from this latest book, including 'My mother and the projectionist', which had struck me when I read the collection. As someone who has been obsessively writing about cinema for the last 5 or so years, it was right up my alley. But also such a romantic and tragic story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

I noticed that Harvey Molloy has posted a video of Jenny reading another of my favourites from Ticket Home: http://harveymolloy.blogspot.co.nz/2012/07/tuesday-poem-double-blow-by-jenny.html. It's called 'Double blow' here, but is 'Isabella Blow' in the collection.

And then, you'll find more Tuesday poems via the hub blog: http://tuesdaypoem.blogspot.co.nz/.

Jenny Powell on tele

I meant to blog this last week, or perhaps the week before. I lose track. It is busy. Anyway, what I meant to blog was that Jenny Powell was interviewed recently(ish) about her new collection Viet Nam: A Poem Journey, and you can watch it here: http://www.ch9.co.nz/content/local-writer-turns-disappointment-poetry.

Tuesday Poem: 'White Heron Flying' by Jenny Powell

White Heron Flying

Heat
and the jarring road
to Nha Trang
curdle into self distraction

Headache
and the relentless day
scatter seeds
of snivelling self doubt

Highway 1,
main road north
to the coast, place of Hao’s
heart and home


xxxxx Late night
xxxxx and a feast of welcome,
xxxxx forcing myself to food,
xxxxx craving Disprin and sleep

xxxxx Leave
xxxxx at 5 am for the beach
xxxxx crowds on sand and sea
xxxxx broadcasts of the ‘news’

xxxxx Lumber
xxxxx to Tai Chi, Hao lithe
xxxxx and graceful moving
xxxxx leopard like, camouflaged


Breathing
into the balance
of waves, turning the tides
shifting the spaces

Body
sinks and lifts
arms circle in backstroke
legs test the ground ahead

Briefly
resistance leaves
sink and lift, arms play
in patterns above, behind

xxxxx Tiredness
xxxxx dissolves, anxiety
xxxxx falls away shoulders
xxxxx drop back straightens

xxxxx Turning
xxxxx to the sun rising,
xxxxx breathing into the balance
xxxxx of sea and white feathered clouds

xxxxx Leopard
xxxxx faces heron,
xxxxx Hao follows my flight
xxxxx across his morning sky


Jenny Powell is a poet and teacher who lives and writes in St Clair, Dunedin.This poem comes from her most recent collection Viet Nam: A Poem Journey, which has just been published by HeadworX.

The book is a kind of travelogue around Vietnam, but with a twist. After having a Vietnamese teacher, Hao, stay with her family, Jenny had a strong desire to travel to Vietnam to visit him, but due to medical reasons, it is impossible. And so the poet turns inwards: 'Is it possible to love a country you have never been to? Is it possible to visit a country in your imagination?' she asks in the introduction. The poems show that it is.

The surprising thing about the poems, given their imagined nature, is the specificity. She visits markets, meets people, dodges traffic, and, in this poem, has a headache. It's the headache and the desire for disprin that, for me, anchors this poem in reality, while the leopard and the heron elevate the poeticism. It's definitely one of my favourite in the collection.

It's been a while since I've posted a Tuesday poem - my insane busyness is showing signs of slowing, so I hope to be a more regular poster again.

The other Tuesday poets are much more reliable. You can find them here, on the Tuesday Poem blog: http://tuesdaypoem.blogspot.com/.

(Late) Tuesday poem: 'Looking for her' by Jenny Powell

Looking for her

I looked for her
in tides of crisp

trees turning
toward the bitter

months I looked
across the desert

of a skinned sky
I looked inside

canals of open
ground I looked

in the eyes of every
mother-woman

and all this time
she was there,

inside my footsteps
of betrayal,

in each gasp
of cold air.


by Jenny Powell


Jenny Powell (previously Jenny Powell-Chalmers) lives and writes in St Clair, Dunedin. She's the author of five books of poetry, including two collaborative collections. Her sixth, Viet Nam: A Poem Journey is going to be published by HeadworX very soon.

It might be late, but it's still Tuesday. This poem by Jenny Powell is also from Locating the Madonna, as was 'The Madonna of the Ureweras' by Anna Jackson, which I posted for Poetry Day. 'Looking for her is another of my favourites from that collaborative collection, so I thought it would be a good follow up. Looking back over the book, there is a lot of variety in the types and tones of the poems. Earlier ones have a lighter tone, and towards the end, it is a little more reflective and serious. And quieter. The part of this poem that has always haunted me especially is the end - the last four lines: 'inside my footsteps / of betrayal, / in each gasp / of cold air.'

Also, the lovely Helen Heath has published my poem 'Enchantress of numbers' about Ada Byron (Ada Lovelace) as her Tuesday Poem on her blog: http://www.helenheath.com/2-aug-2010/tuesday-poem-enchantress-numbers-ada-byron-king-countess-lovelace-helen-rickerby (her site is up again, if you tried yesterday and failed to get through).

And you can find more Tuesday Poems on the Tuesday Poem blog, including Claire Beynon's collaborative poem, which you can add a line to here: http://icelines.blogspot.com/2010/08/tuesday-poem-false-alarm.html

Stuff I've been up to lately

I've been up to heaps of things lately - possibly too much - and there are heaps more things I ought to be doing. Quite a few of them are poetry-related.

Saw Kate Camp at the Poetry Society
She read mostly new poems, which was nice. I particularly enjoyed her reading of a poem twice. She read it first without telling us anything about it, and while it wasn't a poem that made obvious sense, you could make your own interpretations of its images. A bit later, she read it again, but this time first told us what it was about, the story that had inspired it. It was like a whole other poem. It was clearer in meaning, but less universal. It was quite a fascinating exercise.

Saw Richard Langston at the Poetry Society
Richard Langston combines being a journalist for TV3 with being a poet. He's an engaging reader, and he also mainly read new stuff. I was inspired by his quoting of the end of what I thought was an uncharacteristic Philip Larkin poem: 'The Mower' the hunt it down, and Twitter it: 'we should be careful//Of each other, we should be kind/While there is still time.'

Went to the open mike night at Aunt Daisy's Boathouse Cafe
This was a fun, informal evening, where anyone could get up and read a few poems. Excellently hosted by Mike Eager. I read some poems, listened to some other poems, hung out with some people I already knew, met some people I didn't know before. I'll be back. It's on the last Wednesday of every month, so this month it's next Wednesday, 25th May, from 7 pm. It's at 28 Bay Road, Titahi Bay - it's right next to the beach.

Helping out with the publication of Viet Nam by Jenny Powell
I've been just helping make some final changes to the design file for this new book of poetry by Jenny Powell (formerly Jenny Powell-Chalmers), which is going to be published by HeadworX soon. So I've been lucky enough to have a sneak preview of this collection, which is an imaginative journey to Viet Nam. A Vietnamese teacher came and stayed with Jenny in Dunedin, and she, in turn, wanted to go and visit him in Viet Nam. She was unable to, and so could only travel there in her mind. It's so vivid and specific in it's details and responses, that it's hard to believe she was never there.

Re-reading the manuscript of Ithaca Island Bay Leaves by Vana Manasiadis, which I'm excited I'm (as in Seraph Press) going to publish
This is a gorgeous collection, about Greece, and New Zealand, and her mother, her grandmother and, more subtly, about herself. It also has several playful peices that are reworkings/updatings of classic Greek myths. I'm sure I'll have much more to write about this as the project moves ahead.

That'll do for now. I'm planning to write a post about the book my new imprint Alley Cat Chapbooks published - which means me and the author (my friend Karen) handmade 25 copies of it. It will have photos, and perhaps instructions for hand binding little books.