#jenn givhan

[mirroredroads]

on reconnecting with one's self. Hanif Abdurraqib, They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us / Isao Takahata's Only Yesterday (1991) / Anais Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin, 1939-1947 / @sha963 / Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous / Untitled (2022), Sung Hwa Kim, soft pastels and acrylic on paper / Better in the Morning, Birdtalker / Untitled (2022), Sung Hwa Kim, soft pastels and acrylic on paper / Jenn Givhan, from “The Decision”

[winterbluets]

I carried a bowl of menudo into the forest I carried my bisabuela’s tripas not daring ask whose intestines I carried con cilantro y radish y cebolla chopped fine I carried the sewing machine they’d chained her to in the garment district downtown I carried the forest crackling against asphalt where her chanclas burnt & melted so I carried her too I wore no red I bore no basket there was no forest but an avocado tree in the backyard of the house they made her sell to get her Medicare for her diabetes shots I carried her sugarwater a hummingbird great-granddaughter I carried her flickering her black- & white-screened I carried her face the scars her warped esposo left her granddaughter carried those wounds through the womb not wolf but blue-eyed man I stirred the menudo my belly the pot & scalding into the forest I carried & that tree I chopped down chopped into a boat & carried my mother & my bisabuela across the chile-red sopa the blood-water broth named her daughter what forest have we made for her I cannot see I carried darkness into the forest & sliced it out.

I am dark, I am forest by Jenn Givhan on Poetry (January 2018)

[netherfeildren]

fear of god : chapter vi moodboard

- i am dark, i am forest by jenn givhan

- a water baby by herbert james draper (c. 1900)

- jackson, wyoming by nick sulzer

- into the wild wood by forest rogers (2006) [this is an illustration of vasilisa the beautiful — one of my favorite russian fairytales]

[chelseahotel2004]

"i am dark, i am forest" by jenn givhan

[poetryfoundation-potd]

Headless Mama Returns (Xmas ’18 Redux)

BY JENN GIVHAN

Rejoice in the snowflowers in the veins, rejoice in the bathtub

saltwater clogging the windpipe, its brittle sugar-

crystals in the lungs, in the petals blooming in the water

after curettage, scarlet rash of ornaments O globular berries staining

the porcelain. We pass the darkened library on the way

to my mother’s house so the kids can light advent candles—

I’ve strung Xmas lights to the wall with a Stranger

Things alphabet, Ouija to the upside down I’ll scry

I’ll scream to contact her—girl I heaved

into the toilet bowl, girl I let go each time a man

fucked me [over]. We pass the library past dark

& the librarians form a line under the exit at closing—I imagine

habits, I imagine knives for teeth, typewriters for hearts.

The librarians jackrabbit. They devour the dogs.

My children at my mother’s table love Jesus. The plants

in my mother’s kitchen still bloom on the sill

while my mother’s tongue wilts on my blue altar &

even Frida from her Santos candle glares in disapproval—

I’ve drowned them. The leaves blanch, a sick mucus,

a bulbous wax. A loaf of soggy bread around my belly &

thighs in the milky soapwater I scrub & scrub the pinkening

of poultry I’ve become. There was a hairbrush once, a broom’s

handle. There was a channeling in a tunnel, O burst O pop O clank

O fuck my swollen bell of  brain. If no candles light

when we scratch the match, has God forsaken? Where

have the librarians prowled off to—with their curses? Once upon

a time a mother lost her goddamn mind. I scrape the blackened foil

from the cake I’ve burnt O baby I carried to the ledge.

I’ve brought only the living ones to pray [for strength]

for when their mama hollows a wall, marrows a bone &

the headless girls return to her & the bodies rise like steam

from her chest & she flings her rust, her knives & uplifts

the blanket of ribcage to the cavernous tomb of sky.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/151490/headless-mama-returns-xmas-18-redux

Audio Included

[wintryblight]

poems about not being able to write—about incapacity, inability, paralysis. not stagnation but powerlessness. it feels impossible (and still i try)

hi anon, i’m sorry you’re feeling that way. wanting to write but feeling paralysed is such a dreadful state & i hope that these poems can resonate with & perhaps inspire you, even just a bit. it’s great that you’re still trying--most days it’s the best that any of us can do.

Richard Siken, “Self Portrait against Red Wallpaper” | What would a better me paint? There is no / new me, there is no old me, there's just me, the same / me, the whole time.

Jennifer Chang, “The World” | Everything I hate about the world / I hate about myself

Sylvia Plath, “Tulips” | I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted / To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.

Natalie Diaz, “From the Desire Fields” | Maybe this is what Lorca meant / when he said, verde que te quiero verde— / because when the shade of night comes, / I am a field of it

Jenn Givhan, “Of Color of Landscape of Tenuous Rope” | I’ve pulled from my throat birdsong like tin- / sheeted lullaby [its vicious cold        its hoax of wings]

[bostonpoetryslam]

      I’ve thought about leaving      Shoving a duffel bag & laptop into the car     taking the dog      But these babies I’ve wanted since I was a child      That’s what girls do where I grew up down the road from a landfill in the humid stench of a beef plant & sugar beets     hulled & boiled for their sweet white meat      I found an animal in a trap who’d fought her way through high grasses wasting to carcass in my own backyard & I believe you know what a merciful act means

Jennifer Givhan, “Sin Vergüenza (Como los Pájaros),” published in Poetry

[lifeinpoetry]

rising girl rising & rising / girl teach me again how to live that free

Jenn Givhan, from “Girl,” published in HEArt

[theoffingmag]

Whichever way I twisted felt like shedding skin felt too tight. Whichever way I turned felt like out.

Jenn Givhan, “Risen Again,” published in The Offing

[weltenwellen]

Jenn Givhan, from “The Decision”

[brunch-poems]

Of Color of Landscape of Tenuous Rope

i.      

I’ve pulled from my throat birdsong like tin- sheeted lullaby [its vicious cold        its hoax of wings] the rest of us forest folk       dark angels chafing rabbits- foot for luck     thrum-necked     wear the face of nothing       we’ve changed       the Zodiac & I have refused a little planet little sum for struggle & sailed ourselves summerlong & arbitrary as a moon grave across a vastness        [we’ve left the child- ren]      Named the place penni- less motherhood      Named the place country of mothers      Named the place anywhere but death by self- ii.           infliction is a god of many faces      many nothings     I’m afraid I’ll never be whole     I’m afraid the rope from the hardware store [screws for nails] will teach itself to knot      I’ve looked up noose I’ve learned to twine but these babies now halfway pruned through the clean bathwater of childhood I promised a god I would take to the ledge & show the pinstripes the pinkening strobe- lights maybe angels chiseled at creation into the rock [around my neck] the rock in the river I would never let them see        I would never let them

iii.

break & spend a whole life backing away from that slip— Let us fly & believe [in the wreck] their perfect hope- sealed bodies the only parachutes we need

[tlhopkinson]

My poem "Resurrection Party" published in Tinderbox Poetry Journal

My poem “Resurrection Party” published in Tinderbox Poetry Journal

My poem “Resurrection Party” is a poem of recovery. It’s so important to me that this personal poem is out in the world. Many of you who know me know that two years ago my son (21 at the time) was in a horrible accident in which he was hit on his bicycle by someone in a pickup truck in downtown Salt Lake City. He nearly lost his life. Recovery was difficult, but he made it through and I’m…

[chelseahotel2004]

'I am dark, I am forest' by JENN GIVHAN

[liminalspacepoetry-blog]

I crossed over for cumbia for tequila & holy water, fearful serpent, my feathered scales like marigolds altar-spilled like sugar in a sideshow only there was no circus, no last act & I can’t tell a story without breaking. Border crosser, rosary holder, communion starched of want, bread stale in the mouth, one woman held out the heavy basket of her hands, turnpike bloody. I was young & slipping into splatter, taco cart of cilantro & lime. Border crossing women— we’ve been no fence & empty hinges.

‘Mexicali’ by Jenn Givhan

https://goo.gl/tmZ9yh

[amykingpoet]

PRAISE FOR AMY KING’S TEACHING

Amy King’s workshops and critiques are as intelligent and intuitive as she is. She’s introduced me to conceptual ideas that seem at first complex and perhaps over my head—but the way she breaks them down and incorporates them step by step into fun and challenging exercises makes them so accessible that I find myself pondering and using them in my own poetics again and again. I’ve worked with her several times, and I highly recommend Amy’s teaching style—learned yet lucid, erudite yet playful. She’s a joy!

—Jenn Givhan, 2015 Winner NEA in Poetry

What’s amazing about Amy is, unlike so many other great poets, she’s also a great teacher, a true facilitator of other people’s visions. Amy has a range of techniques to guide you through the entire arc of the creative process from the first germ of inspiration to your final edit, but the support Amy offers doesn’t just confirm what you’re already doing. She will shake you up, jolt you out of your comfort zone and challenge you to confront the personal limits you’re stumbling over in your writing. Her prompts will immerse you – literally, with all kinds of media – in new ways of seeing, thinking and making connections, and her responses to your work will help you re-frame how you think about your writing. I always feel that Amy holds my work to as high a standard as she holds her own, yet her critiques reflect her sense of what I’m trying to accomplish; she’s sensitive and generous in that way. I don’t think teaching is just a day job to Amy. She brings the same ethic and commitment, the same way of connecting she explores in her poetry to her work with her students.

—Justine el-Khazen, Brooklyn-based poet & creative writing instructor at Eugene Lang

I have collaborated with Amy King on several publishing projects — the magazine Esque, and the PEN Poetry Series — and we’ve also taught together at Naropa University, The San Francisco Poetry Center and Slippery Rock University. Amy has taught me so much about teaching poetry and fostering fruitful, kinetic student interaction. At Naropa, we lead a workshop on “The Trans Cyborg;” from Fernando Pessoa to Tamiko Beyer and Nicki Minaj, Amy activated the group with generative readings and viewings, and insightfully helped along students’ work with critique and exercises like “Write your own personal mythology” and “Interlace fingers / interlace lines into a hybrid poem.” Co-teaching this class was a lesson to me as well on how poetry can pass between poet-teacher and poet-student, and how empathetic, radical, disciplined engagement leads to breakthroughs in poems and poetics. As a teacher, Amy accepts nothing less. Amy was also an essential reader and editor for both of my books of poetry, and a valued poetry journal co-editor who confidently made micro and macro editorial and curatorial decisions to the benefit of every poem she was entrusted with. I recommend her as a teacher and editor without hesitation — you are lucky to have a chance to travel a while with her.

—Ana Božičević, author of Stars of the Night Commute and the Lambda Literary Award-winning Rise in the Fall

Whether you are writing about the intricacies of daily interactions or incorporating broad topics from science to philosophy to politics, Amy King’s got you covered! She writes from the street but not from a blank slate – in fact, from a broad intellectual background. Her prompts are rich in detail and suggestibility. She provides extensive supporting material and recommends a cornucopia of relevant poetry to inspire you. Her feedback is direct, insightful, and incisive but does not foreclose your options for finding your own route to improvement.

She inspired me to write my first prose poem!

—Mary Newell, Ph. D.

In 35 years of teaching Creative Writing and literature courses at the University of South Alabama and having served as Alabama’s Poet Laureate from 2003 -2012, I have never know anyone who gives a more thorough and helpful critique than Amy King. She is an outstanding poet who uses her experience to offer insightful comments and suggestions thatare encouraging and yet honest when it comes to rewrites. I have taken a couple of Amy’s courses just to have her astute feedback. It is a privilege to be in a class of Amy’s, take part in challenging and exciting exercises. and learn new ways to look at writing poetry.

—Sue Walker, Publisher Negative Capability Press Retired Professor of English, University of South Alabama, Poet Laureate of Alabama 2003-2012

[wintryblight]

sort poems by themes/authors

note: most of these embedded links don’t work & i’m not tech savvy enough to fix it, but you can always use the search function on top of the page. alternatively, you can type /tagged/author’s name or tagged/theme to the end of the home address to find a specific author or theme. replace any space with a hyphen.

example:

wintryblight.tumblr.com/tagged/richard-siken

wintryblight.tumblr.com/tagged/lingering-love

themes

perseverance

nature

food

recovery/healing

the body

grief

death

pain/sickness

childhood

loneliness

nostalgia

freedom

relationships

queerness

lesbians

desire

depression

stagnation

perseverance

hope

love

lingering love

unloved

unrequited love

intense love

fear of love

doomed love

heartache

mothers

fathers

family

dysfunction

the mundane

rage

numbness

stagnation

monotony

paralysis

feeling too much

understanding and being understood

music

self-acceptance

self-compassion

self-reliance

forgiveness

the moon

space

rain

bodies of water

travel

writing

personal favourites

prose poetry

authors

Hanif Abdurraquib

Kim Addonizio

Anna Akhmatova

Rosa Alcalá

Elizabeth Alexander

Hala Alyan

Maya Angelou

Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz

Derrick Austin

Cameron Awkward-Rich

Ellen Bass

April Bernard

Emily Berry

Wendell Berry

John Berryman

Elizabeth Bishop

Anne Boyer

William Brewer

Richard Brostoff

Jericho Brown

Anne Carson

Grace Cavalieri

K-Ming Chang

Jennifer Chang

Tina Chang

Victoria Chang

Hayan Charara

Chen Chen

Inger Christensen

Steven Chung

Christopher Citro

Lucille Clifton

Barbara Cooker

Wendy Cope

Conchitina Cruz

e. e. cummings

Marissa Davis

Meg Day

Lidija Dimkovska

Chelsea Dingman

Sean Thomas Dougherty

Russell Edson

T. S. Eliot

William Fargarson

Megan Fernandes

Nikky Finney

Luiza Flynn-Goodlett

Richard Foerster

Vievee Francis

Clifton Gachagua

Ross Gay

Andrea Gibson

Aracelis Girmay 

Jenn Givhan

Louise Glück

Rodney Gomez

Oscar Gonzalez

torrin a. greathouse  

Linda Gregg

Jennifer Grotz

Jeff Hardin

Joy Harjo

Robert Hass

Rage Hezekiah

Neil Hilborn

Bill Holm

Marie Howe

Cynthia Huntington

A. Van Jordan

June Jordan

Donald Justice

Anna Belle Kaufman

Sarah Kay

Donika Kelly

Patricia Kirkpatrick

Joanna Klink

Nate Klug

Yusef Komunyakaa

Juliet Kono

Fortesa Latifi

D. H. Lawrence

Li-Young Lee

Joseph O. Legaspi

Alex Lemon

Jan Heller Levi

Robin Coste Lewis

Sandra Lim

Ada Limón

Sarah Lindsay

Timothy Liu

Audre Lorde

Dorianne Laux

Sally Wen Mao

William Matthews

Nathan McClain

Marty McConnell

Sjohnna McCray

Dunya Mikhail

Jennifer Militello

Tatsuji Miyoshi

Kamilah Aisha Moon

Tomás Q. Morín  

Robin Morgan

Gina Myers

Maggie Nelson

Pablo Neruda

Hieu Minh Nguyen

Frank O’Hara

Sharon Olds

Akilah Oliver

Mary Oliver

Meghan O'Rourke

Alicia Ostriker

beyza ozer

Shin Yu Pai

Pat Parker

Don Paterson

Octavio Paz

Catherine Pierce

Jon Pineda

Sylvia Plath

Meghan Privitello

Aleida Rodríguez

Claudia Rankine

Paisley Rekdal

Susan Rich

Max Ritvo

Sara Daniele Rivera

Kait Rokowski

Lee Ann Roripaugh

Muriel Rukeyser  

Erika L. Sanchez

Sappho

Nicole Sealey

Anne Sexton

Richard Siken

Jared Singer

Scherezade Siobhan

Emily Skaja

Carmen Giménez Smith

Danez Smith

Maggie Smith

Tracy K. Smith

Anne Stevenson

Mark Strand

Truong Tran

Wang Ping

Sanna Wani

Valerie Wetlaufer

Walt Whitman

Michael Wasson

Keith S. Wilson

C. D. Wright

James Wright

Diego Valeri

Jeanann Verlee

Laura Villareal

Ocean Vuong

Jenny Xie

Wendy Xu

John Yau

Emily Jungmin Yoon

Adam Zagajewski

Felicia Zamora