Favourite Poems of 2010

Readers' Picks:

TRƆTRƆ by Kwadwo Kwarteng (Issue 4.3, January 16th - 22nd, 2010)

Comments on TRƆTRƆ:

"I love the way Kwadwo Kwarteng explored sounds to paint a vivid picture in the mind of readers, about an experience most of us have witnessed! Whoever reads the poem can imagine what to expect in the "Trotro" on any day." - Oteng Owusu

"Kwarteng has the potential/ability of breathing life into each sound - be it chaotic or serene. And the life-span [of the poem] is long and enduring in the ears of those who cherish rhythm." - Darko Antwi

Silence by Samuel Adjei Ntow (Issue 4.8, February 20th - 26th, 2010)

Comments on Silence:

"With a very good command of the English language, and the highest order of figurative speech, Ntow uses the trance-like Silence to express both the interior and exterior relationship between a social organism and its environment." - Darko Antwi

"This is a good work. Indeed these [things] do happen through the night in Ghanaian settings and for Ntow to have captured the details in his work makes it wonderful. Well done." - Nana Agyemang Ofosu

The Deer Hunt by Mariska Taylor-Darko (Issue 4.38, September 25th - October 1st, 2010)

Comments on The Deer Hunt:

"I chose this poem based on three broad categories: 1. Its descriptive screenplay quality, appropriate POV and clever use of imagery, 2. Its socio-cultural significance, and 3. Its potential as a reference point in literature books for educational purposes." - Dela Bobobee (Read Dela's essay on The Deer Hunt here)

"This title stands the chance of being a key literature in any modern Ghanaian collection of cultural importance." - Darko Antwi

Staff Picks:

Swear Note by L.S. Mensah (Issue 4.29, July 17th - 23rd, 2010)

Comments on Swear Note:

"I love this piece because it addresses a serious and emotional issue in our modern society using various figures of speech and animations that put your mind to work and make you visualize the brutal activities that women under trokosi go through. I am sure any women's organisation would love to use this piece for advocacy" - Julian Adomako-Gyimah

"L.S. Mensah's use of the specular is apt for the theme of mirrors in this poem. She uses the same words in reverse structure to capture an ancient African saying: "if you point at a person with your index finger, remember the rest are pointing at you."" - Prince Mensah

old dust made new by Daniela Elza (Issue 4.11, March 13th - 19th, 2010)

Comments on old dust made new:

"Daniela uses spaces to create a sparse landscape and a staccato of varied emotions in a poem that captures Harmattan in all its glory and grimness. " - Prince Mensah

"I personally haven't experienced Harmattan for a while and this piece brings back memories, particularly of when I was a kid and had little control about the damage that this season caused our hands and lips. Great work. " - Julian Adomako-Gyimah

The Burial of Saint Domeabra by Darko Antwi (Issue 4.36, September 11th - 17th, 2010)

Comment on The Burial of Saint Domeabra:

"Poet and critic Darko Antwi delivers a loaded sermon in his poem about transience. More hidden is his indictment of culture in playing games with a person's reputation. Darko's poem is international in reach, even though it is local in description. "The Burial of Saint Domeabra" is a palatable piece of work: it contains an array of food for thought." - Prince Mensah

A Celebration

Daniela Elza's poem "Savannah Rain, West Africa," which was originally published here at OGOV last year, and was selected by readers as one of our favourite poems of 2009, was recently also selected as a finalist for Sundress Publication's Best of the Net 2009! The full list of finalists is here.

We're incredibly happy for Daniela, and appreciative to her for considering OGOV as a home for her writing. We are equally grateful to all our other writers, including those whose poems we nominated for Best of the Net 2009 alongside Daniela's. We like to think of Daniela's win as a team effort: the strength of the other submitted poems and of the work we are publishing from week-to-week helped propel Daniela's poem into consideration. Here is a full list of the nominees that we submitted for Best of the Net 2009:

Dry Season in Eremon by Edith Faalong
Ananse’s Grave by Kae Sun
Savannah Rain, West Africa by Daniela Elza
The Train by Prince Mensah
Odomankoma’s Drummer by Kwadwo Kwarteng

If you haven't read these poems, or haven't read them in a while, they are well worth a look.

Every year, nominations for Best of the Net will be selected by the editors from amongst all our published poems from that given year. Do you think you might have written the next "Best of the Net" poem? Submit it to us today!

Congratulations, Daniela!



Note: Our normal weekly postings will resume this Saturday.

old dust made new - Daniela Elza

the harmattan        (d r y and c o l d)                 came in
couplets—        fine                unrimed                red d us t
 
no matter                how                tightweshutthewindows
you cannot                keep it                                out

b l  u   r    r     e      d                 the trees                the ho us es
the past—                        its long fluorescent lights

thin apparition—                the desert                      came in
sifted down         through                 mosquito nets 

)     t.here is no without        )        no within        the Sahara
breathing        as if it         w e r e          memory       (s l  o    w 
 
and d i f f i c u l t)                arriving on the north east winds
sinking even through the fabric of my                d reams
 
old dust         made new                on our living sur f a c e s
in the morning the black table top                turned    canvas

where my dad left us                secret m e s s a g e s
where                my sister and I awoke         to the wor(l)d

drew                and rhymed                 with child fingertips
before my mom        shined it clean                 for breakfast

"old dust made new" is the second of our series of poems on the Harmattan. New entries will be posted each week, and collected here.

Author Profile - Daniela Elza

Biography:

Daniela Bouneva Elza has lived on three continents and crossed numerous geographic and cultural borders. Writing has been a faithful companion no matter what country or language she found herself in. To date she has released more than 120 poems into the world. She just completed her full length poetry manuscript and is also working toward the completion of her doctorate in Philosophy of Education. She lives with her family in Vancouver and blogs at http://strangeplaces.livingcode.org/

Five Questions with Daniela Elza:

1. What great images you conjure up in "old dust made new"! More generally, though, how did you receive the harmattan each year in Northern Nigeria? With excitement? Relief? Frustration?

It was part of life. People wore hats and scarves in the early mornings. I wore a coat over my short sleeve uniform on the way to school. I was curious about how the haze made the familiar less familiar, the strange halo around the moon at night. The Harmattan was mostly a mystery to me. How it would steal into the house. Every morning a new presence, one that arrived from far away. The smell of the dust was most memorable. I clearly remember having difficulty breathing, not being able to go to sleep. It was so strong. My mom made me and my sister little gauze masks that she dampened and put on us at bed time. There was an ointment called Robb that I would rub on my temples, forehead, even under my nose, and the smell of eucalyptus and camphor helped. My favourite part in Rob's harmattan poem "Under the Harmattan Sky" was where he said we "write no poems." Interesting. Poems for me are very closely related to breath, so that sense came through for me. Looking back though my childhood lens, "mystery" is what best describes the Harmattan for me. Now even more so when on last week’s poem one of the readers mentioned the Harmattan did not come this year.


2. Your poems use space very intentionally. The size of the space between each word, and each letter of each word, seems very intentioned. What drew you to writing in this way? Did you have any other writers as points of inspiration in developing this style?


The words in my poems started to pull apart years ago. It was like coming to a place and feeling at home. I recognized it as my form. It has helped me address rubs and struggles with language and how we are in language. How we inhabit it. The form became an outward expression of this journey. It spoke to me, I learned from it. These spaces are breath, are missing memories, are blanks in our knowledge. They are reminders that our world is not seamless and ordered. There are silences we cannot ignore. I can go further: my order is not your order. We also get lazy and complacent with habitual arrangements of words. A word apart from others can take you on its own journey at the same time as it is part of the community of other word.

An important aspect of the spaces is inviting the reader to come in, take part in this co-creation. As readers, we have a tremendous responsibility reading and interpreting another’s words.

Language is like a net with which we try to catch the slippery fish of experience. It is the fish I am after. Yet, language is seductive. We can end up just playing with the net, be mesmerized by it. So this form for me always reminds me of the permeable membrane that exists between word and world.

I am inspired by people who take risks with language, test its limits and what it can achieve. I am humbled by the fact that no matter how hard we try we cannot put it all in the words. I am curious where the breaking point is. The fine line between the discomfort of chaos and the comfort of order. Or, perhaps for some, it is the other way around: the comfort of chaos and the discomfort of order.


3. These aforementioned spaces in words seem to function in two ways: they enact the words (i.e. "s l   o   w") and they create or isolate new words (i.e. the "us" in "d   us   t" and "ho   us   es"). Then there are some words that are subtly stretched for reasons that are less clear (i.e. "w e r e"). What leads you to playing with the spacing of particular words and not others? Do you feel it intuitively or do you think/map it out very cognitively?

The next logical step was the letters pulling apart. For different reasons. Like in "slow" it is the pace, or it could be for emphasis, or to invite the eye to linger with letter combinations. My latest exploration is highlighting words within words. For instance, in houses and dust, what struck me was that they contain us. We also get blurred by the dust. I see it as a way of adding an extra layer of images/ideas, subtexts, meta-content. I could easily be in danger of overdoing it. But, hey, if I do not overdo it, how else will I know I have gone too far? In the case of "w e r e": I saw we’re in it. And wondered if the reader will see "we’re memory" at the same time as "dust" and "desert" being memory. For me this poem is very much about memory, haunting us like the dust. How it renews itself, and us. Or, perhaps, "w e r e" is one instance of pushing too far. This is a new poem. I have to be patient, trust the balance will be established over time. I hope in each poem the technique responds to the content and continues to be an exploration, instead of a set form or path.

We spend so much time arguing around and about words. So many battles today are fought on the level of words (political, academic, ideological, religious). Yet, the words only fragment something whole (a thought/feeling) that is trying to come through. So I fragment the words. Meaning is in the words, but also not in them. Are we in control of the words or are they in control of us? Language is a slippery slope and can be treacherous. At the same time it can present us with many gifts.


4. Both of your poems featured thus far on OGOV have been written in couplets. Is this a general style of yours, a particular style you prefer for your African poems, or merely a coincidence?

They both took that shape, but may not have. This one was more premeditated than "Savannah Rain, West Africa" since it begins with the cold and the dust coming in couplets. That set the tone for me. This also goes back to the previous question: of how much is intuitive and how much is planned. Can we separate the two? I like to premeditate some. Yet, once the poem is loose on the page I am also prepared to flow with it, see where it leads. Gaston Bachelard in his book The Poetics of Reverie says: “The word lives syllable by syllable in danger of internal reveries.” If I cannot learn something from writing a poem, I am not interested in writing it. Perhaps an analogy might be: the teacher who knows when to abandon the lesson plan and follow the opportunity that a classroom serendipitously presents her. It is a fine balance between structure and flow. I am happy to embrace that in my practice. Some serendipity may grab my attention and then I can work that in the structure.

Now, for the reader the premeditated might appear coincidental. What was coincidental may be so seamless and graceful that it appears premeditated. For instance, the lack of punctuation was premeditated. I imagined how in the haze such little signposts will disappear first. However, if I had not said this you can come up with your own explanation/s (and you will) irrespective of what I intended, or did not intend. We are just that kind of creature. And that could lead to new serendipities and creations.

If I planned everything out before hand I am unlikely to venture into unknown territory. The sense of play and discovery is lost. And there is so much negotiation to do between word and world, and it could be done in an infinite number of ways. To quote Bachelard again: “What a lot of minor conflicts we must resolve upon returning from vagabond reverie to reasonable vocabulary!” In the complex laboratory of reverie and writing it is difficult to distinguish all these aspects.

For me writing is organic. It flows and changes and I let myself be at the mercy of what wants to come through. Of what possibilities are inherent in that moment of writing. Most of the time I find that a lot more interesting from what I planned. Again Bachelard nicely puts it: “For a dreamer, a dreamer of words, they are all swollen with insanities.” It is a constant back and forth between what the words want me to say and what I want to say with the words. In that process, I believe, both the word and the writer are enriched.


5. What new things have happened in your life/writing in the year since our readers first met you and your writing?

2009 was a busy year. It started with writing collaborated poems, four of which got published in Mutating the Signature issue of qarrtsiluni. Along with that in February my first poem went up here on OGOV with an interview. There were a couple more interviews last year, one with The Peak, and one with The Cascade. Press 1, BluePrintReview, Matrix, Vallum and ditch, poetry that matters gave a home to another 12 poems. The anthology A Verse Map of Vancouver housed another two. I won an Honourable Mention at the SIWC Poetry Contest. The highlight was the 4 Poets book in which Mother Tongue Publishing showcased the work of four emerging British Columbian poets. I had a lot of fun launching it. I must have read at least 25 times last year all together.

In the summer I completed my comprehensive exams in Philosophy of Education and in the Fall presented at the 2nd Symposium on Poetic Inquiry (Prince Edward Island). I had a chapter published in the book Poetic Inquiry: Vibrant Voices in the Social Sciences(comprising of 12 poems). Finally, I completed my first full length manuscript. This spring I will be the feature poet in The New Orphic Review, and I had my first micro story accepted for the BluePrintReview. As of January, I took on the volunteer position of Vancouver/Lower Mainland Representative for the Federation of BC Writers. Phew. It feels like a lot. But it is what I enjoy doing.

Contact Daniela:

Email: daniela(at)livingcode.org
Website: http://strangeplaces.livingcode.org/

Author Photo © Frank Lee

Favourite Poems of 2009

Readers' Picks:

Apology to Witches by Darko Antwi (Issue 3.41, October 10th - 16th, 2009)

Comments on Apology to Witches:

"I chose this poem because it holds a stock of lesson for every African to read. Many times we have lashed out at Europeans for being the sources of our woes. Though they can't be left out entirely, much havoc have caused by we ourselves and the writer explicitly reveals that. He pinpoints some instances where societies have come in to decide the fate of African and makes it quite satirical, compelling readers to reorganise their thoughts and assess themselves before the cast the first stone.

In a nut shell, I chose this poem because it's not meant for relaxation, but instead is meant to cause to people to change their ways in order to see the change that they long been looking for." - Adjei Agyei-Baah

"A critic and a constant on OGOV, Darko has almost single-handedly resurrected the power of analysis on OGOV. With this poem, he goes straight into the issue of projection, of blaming others for the consequences of our actions. Darko fearlessly presents the subject with the splendid couplet:

Nobody did us
We did ourselves" - Prince Mensah

Savannah Rain, West Africa by Daniela Elza (Issue 3.6, February 7th - 13th, 2009)

Comments on Savannah Rain, West Africa:

"Cinematic. Great pacing. Carries itself in 11 couplets, until the very last line. Harnesses the suddenness of a tropical storm, then slows it down so the reader can experience it as if through a stop-motion lens. It is about the Savannah's most precious and treasured element - water - and how its action shapes everything else." - L.S. Mensah

"Brilliant. Brilliant. And I want to say this again." - Martin Egblewogbe

For my Husband, an Educated Fool by Nana Yeboaa (Issue 3.23, June 6th - 12th, 2009)

Comments on For my Husband, an Educated Fool:

"Nana Yeboaa just said what so many women would like to say but can't... " - Mariska Taylor-Darko

"I like this poem because it channels the frustrations of women who are caught up in the constant redefinitions of love within and outside a race. It is about the travails in the exposure of familiarity to a terrain of new options. There is a theme akin to the central one in "Things Fall Apart" - the center cannot hold because a new reality has risen on horizons of heritage." - Prince Mensah

Zimbabwe by Prince Mensah (Issue 3.44, October 31st - November 6th, 2009)

Comments on Zimbabwe:

""Zimbabwe" is a beautifully crafted poem in which Prince explores the ideas of place-naming, identity, and boundaries. He does this with a melodic voice, carrying the reader through the politics of Zimbabwe with seeming effortlessness." - Marta Taylor

"The struggle continues, a bold moving poem Prince." - Ivor W. Hartmann

Staff Picks:

Why Birds Sing by L.S. Mensah (Issue 3.37, September 12 - 18th, 2009)

Comments on Why Birds Sing:

"L.S. is a treasure. She writes with such probing ability that just one read of her poem is an injustice to the love of poetry. She commands attention from her readers with her style and manages to present language in a bouquet of beautiful images - here's a prophecy: L S will become one of Ghana's top poets. Mark this on the wall." - Prince Mensah

""Why Birds Sing" is my favourite poem published on OGOV in 2009. L.S. Mensah's attention to form and to sound is admirable. Like Edith Faalong in 2008, L.S. has arrived in full form. We can only hope that 2010 will bring us new poets of similar talent - and of course more work from L.S.!" - Rob Taylor

Pantoum #4 by Van G. Garrett / Fui Koshi (Issue 3.35, September 1st - 4th, 2009)

Comment on Pantoum #4:

""Pantoum #4" is from Van's "Snaps of Ghana" series, which ran on OGOV throughout August and into early September. "Snaps of Ghana", featuring Van's photographs and poems from his travels throughout Ghana, was the first time we focused an entire month on the work of one poet, and was a great success. With or without the rest of the series for support, "Pantoum #4" is a strong poem, utilizing its form to reinforce its themes of relaxation and contemplation." - Rob Taylor

Interregnum by L.S. Mensah (Issue 3.45, November 7th - 13th, 2009)

Comment on Interregnum:

"What an apt poem! The beauty of being is on display in this poem. This is juxtaposed with the bleak sense of emptiness with laughter-morsels with Brother Silence. L.S. Mensah just gave Zimbabweans a gift, a still picture of existence, a reportage on reality. This poem showcases a poet who is observant of the past, present and future in a single passing moment." - Prince Mensah

Savannah Rain, West Africa - Daniela Elza

this way          I still don’t expect it to         (rain
at mid-day.         the sky turns

a twilight-orange.
eyes dilate         with the light            dying.

then I smell it—         the thin dust in the air.
wind picks up and              toys with trees

bending their backs             as far as they will go.
thunder              so close now—

for an instant      it is just I           and lightning
linking        earth                to sky.


this kind of rain leaves me           (my mouth    open
tasting the charged air        no time to exhale  

until         the torrent unswells              slows down.
finally            a calm—             clouds turning lambs.
 
water slips and slides            along familiar maps
whirls         twirls         drains.
 
outlines contours          colours         as
only visible under                  the paintbrush of rain.

its tiny feet             leaving
 clean prints                          everywhere.

   
the world looks up              with countless raindrops on 
its eyelashes         (washed          atoned         brighter—

gets carried away              on new water.

Author Profile - Daniela Elza

Biography:

Daniela Bouneva Elza has lived on three continents and has crossed numerous cultural and geographic boarders. She is pursuing her doctorate in Philosophy of Education, while remaining a rogue scholar at heart. Most recently her work appeared in Rocksalt Anthology, The Vancouver Review, and is forthcoming in Vallum, qarrtsiluni, Van Gogh's Ear, and A Verse Map of Vancouver. She lives with her husband and two children, who never fail to surprise her.

Five Questions with Daniela Elza:

1. How long have you been writing poetry?

I have written poetry as far back as I can remember. As a kid I wrote poems with my sister (tried to see who can write the most). I particularly remember writing one about a daisy, and collaborating with my sister on one about a boat (which seemed to be a metaphor for life), and how the boat sinks and continues its life at the bottom of the sea.

I remember writing poems for all sorts of occasions. A few weeks ago my parents read me over the phone a poem I had written for them for their 25th anniversary, (more than 20 years ago). I was pleased to know they kept it, and keep going back to it.

When I started travelling on my own in my late teens, writing and keeping a journal became an extension, an essential part of the journey. After two Masters degrees, a marriage, and two kids, I realized how many changes I had undergone over the course of my life: different geographies, cultures, languages, continents, etc. One day it occurred to me that the one thing that never left me was writing, and poetry.


2. Who are your favorite poets? Which poets have most informed and inspired your work?

The names that stand out the most for me from the last decade are Jorge Luis Borges, Rainer Maria Rilke, Octavio Paz, Anne Michaels, Wislawa Szymborska, and Lyubomir Levchev. And even more recently than that Robert Bringhurst, Tim Lilburn, Jan Zwicky, Alison Pick, Sue Sinclair, Harold Rhenisch, and a book called Introduction to the Introduction to Wang Wei written by Pain Not Bread (three people: Roo Borson, Kim Maltman, and Andy Patton, writing in collaboration). I read that book a few years ago after which I used to refer to it as my “poetry bible.” When I re-read it recently I could definitely see how it made an impression on me.


3. What do you hope to accomplish with your poetry?

Writing poetry for me is a way of inquiring into the world. So the first thing I accomplish is working on myself. It opens up a contemplative space within which I can make sense of the world. In the fast paced and busy life we do not make a lot of room for this kind of knowing, and it is not an easy world to make sense of. There is a lot of noise in the image and a lot of sense pollution and abuse. So in this process of translating the world into word (and vice versa), poetry becomes a filter where I have to listen to the world, to language, and it is also a space where language has to listen to me. This can be a transformative process. A kind of coming home.

The second point is, I think, very related to the first. Because of this way of knowing and making sense and thinking poetically we are also empowered. Poetry becomes a political act, where we practice our freedom as language beings, as poetic beings. A place where aesthetics and ethics can meet. In a world of violence and control, the potential we all have to empower ourselves, and each other cannot be anything other than a political act. Many poets have lost their lives for their words. I was born in Bulgaria, a country where that was the case. Poets were revolutionaries. If you think of it: the romantics were also revolutionaries.
I do not remember now who said it, but I think there is a lot of truth to it: poets are the conscience of the world.


4. For ten years you grew up in northern Nigeria. How has this experience shaped you as a person? Your writing?

Yes, I was seven when I went there and seventeen when I left for good. These are very formative years. I think, first, it helped me become blind to skin colour. I had so many friends who were all different colours and at the same time we were so alike. We were kids together, we did what kids do.

I grew up around a scarcity of trees, growing our own food, different religions, cultures, and political and economic turmoil. I realized, at first unconsciously and later consciously, that these are superficial labels that some choose to pay too much attention to. Or we could choose to focus on our common humanity and rejoice in our diversity and differences. I hope my writing embraces these commonalities. Like the rain we share. We can all relate to that. And also how we can be renewed and perfected by sharing these moments of awe, mystery, admiration.

I remember my first day at school. I did not speak the language. My classroom had dark green metal shutters for windows. The only thing I could think of doing was draw. I drew Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Not at work, but at play. I remember clearly that one of the dwarfs was hanging off a branch by his legs and arms. My classmates crowded to look at my picture. I spend the rest of the day drawing in their books. They pointed to the parts they liked, and I would draw it for them. That was a powerful moment, when I think of it now: the power of art to communicate across culture, geography, language etc. In other words across our differences. Once we start paying attention to what is common, it shifts our decisions, and impacts our actions.


5. Your use of open bracketing in this poem is very interesting. Could you discuss what motivates you to do this, and what effect you hope to produce?

The open bracket means a lot to me. It not only makes one slow down before a word, but it also helps embrace a word toward or away from another. It opens a space...

In this poem I feel that the bracket comes in to mark a space that is hard to speak of, or describe. It has taken me 20 years (at least) to describe that savannah (rain. I could never ignore it. I could not do anything else during a rain storm. I pulled back the curtains and I was taken by the light, the wind, and the water. Forget the show on TV, forget the math homework, there is a storm brewing outside. And this show will only last for a little while. Part of it was the quickness, and the intensity it came and went with. So saying “rain” is not adequate.

Then there is how we observe this event. Our approach, and our attitude. In this case the bracket opens before (my mouth open....

And toward the end of the poem, what is the effect on me of the event I have observed. In this case (washed, atoned, brighter...

Once a parenthesis opens the reader expects it to close. But I do not close them, and one reason is: because the world does not work that way. Instead they kind of nest in each other, just like our observations, our attitudes, and the effects all nest together. I am aware that is also unsettling. I am not afraid to unsettle my reader. I do not want them to come into the poem with the too many expectations with which we move through life. Once we open the parenthesis and let the world in, like with the storm, we can rarely control what will happen, even if we would like to think we can. The tree in the backyard snapped and impaled our roof once. So don’t expect me to close them any time soon.

Contact Daniela:

daniela(at)livingcode.org