Pat’s Poetry Place 2021

 

My Own True Name by Pat Mora

Yeast pillow
sailing
through the green
oregano air, floats
down into the bubbling
rumors of tomatoes…

“Ode to Pizza”
From My Own True Name, 2000


Zing Seven Creative Practices for Educators and StudentsTogether, cada día, every day,
in many languages, library families say,
“Reading. A happy habit we enjoy!”
Together, cada día, every day,
you and I build the bridge to bookjoy.

From ZING! Seven Creativity Practices for Educators & Students, 2010

 


Dizzy in Your Eyes

Everything’s in love.
Birds, butterflies, and now me,
dizzy in your eyes.

Dizzy in Your Eyes: Poems About Love, 2010

 

 


I want to begin the year by sharing wise words from the poet (and gardener) Stanley Kunitz in The Wild Braid: A Poet Reflects on a Century in the Garden.

“I am not done with my changes.”
“You have to practice being yourself.”
“The poet doesn’t so much disappear into the poem as become the poem.”

 


Pat’s Poetry Place 2020
Encantado: Desert Monologues

Twelve Choir Questions
Did the wind’s whistle redden the holly berries?
Is it the oven’s breath that’s sweet with sugar and anise?
How do the bells’ hearts beat so merrily?
Do the luminarias guide us to the path of peace?

Encantado: Desert Monologues, 2018

 


Adobe Odes

In autumn, broody season,
      garden conversations turn philosophical,
leaves pontificating on life’s brevity, the weight
      of maturity. Seed-heavy, your head bows.

“Ode to Sunflowers”

Adobe Odes, 2006

 


My Own True Name by Pat Mora

I feel like a small child
only able to speak very simple
all the time I feel incomplete

“Learning English: Chorus in Many Voices”

My Own True Name, 2000

 


Agua Santa: Holy Water

She carries a green river,
    heavy, but it hums.
In any desert, she can bow her head
  and sip from her own arms.

“Cuentista”

Agua Santa: Holy Water, 1995

 


Chants

“I want

to walk
with you
on my Texas desert.”

“For Georgia O’Keeffe,”

Chants, 1984 (my first book)


Encantado: Desert Monologues

“I speak words of faith—practice, practice.
I pick up the next shoe or boot—like us,
it needs patient attention and repair.”

Señor Ortega
Encantado: Desert Monologues