All-virtual rethinking of PEN America’s landmark event series features Yaa Gyasi, Roxane Gay, Ayad Akhtar, Ben Rhodes, Claudia Rankine, Marilynne Robinson, and Alexander Chee
Earlier this month PEN America announced its fall lineup for its PEN Out Loud author conversation series. This season, reimagined virtually for our current times, will continue its mission to present meaningful dialogues, highlighting books that offer multilayered, thought-provoking conversations on race and class, immigration and family at a particularly divisive moment.
PEN Out Loud’s fall 2020 season will feature conversations with Yaa Gyasi and Roxane Gay, Ayad Akhtar and Ben Rhodes, Claudia Rankine, and Marilynne Robinson and Alexander Chee. PEN Out Loud is co-presented with Strand Book Store and Scripps Presents.“We’re delighted to offer up a rethinking of our PEN Out Loud series, not just for our all-digital moment, but rather rethinking how conversations are happening in our current all-digital moment,” said PEN America’s Clarisse Rosaz Shariyf. “But we’re still holding fast to our belief that PEN Out Loud is the hallmark national literary series that amplifies diverse voices and convenes the most vital conversations with poets, journalists, artists, and activists.”“We’re delighted to be partnering on the PEN Out Loud series. PEN America’s mission to celebrate creative expression and defend the liberties that make it possible is vital, most especially in this moment,” said Corrina Lesser, artistic director of Scripps Presents.PEN Out Loud Fall 2020 Lineup We Don’t Know What We Don’t Know*
Yaa Gyasi, author of the forthcoming book Transcendent Kingdom, in conversation with Roxane Gay
Tuesday, September 1 at 5pm PT/8pm ET *This is a book launch event America Is My Home*
Ayad Akhtar, author of the forthcoming book Homeland Elegies, in conversation with Ben Rhodes
Tuesday, September 1 at 5pm PT/8pm ET *This is a book launch eventJust Listen
Claudia Rankine, author of the forthcoming book Just Us: An American Conversation, with a conversation partner to be announced
Wednesday, September 30 at 5pm PT/8pm ETGuilt and Grace
Mariynne Robinson, author of the forthcoming book Jack, in conversation with Alexander Chee
Tuesday, October 6 at 5pm PT/8pm ET
Tickets on sale now . . .
PEN Out Loud’s mission remains focused on amplifying diverse voices and convening vital conversations with authors, poets, journalists, artists, and activists.
This fall, these conversations are in direct response to the very specific moment we’re in culturally and politically. In the lead up to the 2020 presidential elections, the whole society is wrestling with the legacy of slavery, a reckoning with police brutality, the consequences of health and economic disparities in the midst of a pandemic, and attacks on press freedom and democracy.
Each author this season examines the fabric of our culture with deft insight and illuminates a wide range of themes such as whiteness, faith, interracial love, midwestern and southern culture, depression, and immigration.
$20 Admission | $35 Admission + Signed Book* * $50 for international shipping
Flash sale until September 7. Use the code FLASHPOL at checkout.
The content of this post is courtesy of PEN.org.
The New Republicis an official media partner of PEN Out Loud’s Fall 2020 season. This program is made possible in part by a grant from the City of Los Angeles Department of Cultural Affairs.
PEN Americastands at the intersection of literature and human rights to protect open expression in the United States and worldwide. It champions the freedom to write, recognizing the power of the word to transform the world. Its mission is to unite writers and their allies to celebrate creative expression and defend the liberties that make it possible.
Your donation HERE helps to fund the ongoing mission of The Poet by Day in support of poets and writers, freedom of artistic expression, and human rights.
Poetry rocks the world!
“Every pair of eyes facing you has probably experienced something you could not endure.” Lucille Clifton
Thank you for sharing your love of words. Comments will appear after moderation.
one day, you’ll see, i’ll come back to hobnob
with ravens, to fly with the crows at the moment
of apple blossoms and the scent of magnolia ~
look for me winging among the white geese
in their practical formation, migrating to be here,
to keep house for you by the river …
i’ll be home in time for the bees in their slow heavy
search for nectar, when the grass unfurls, nib tipped ~
you’ll sense me as soft and fresh as a rose,
as gentle as a breeze of butterfly wings . . .
i’ll return to honor daisies in the depths of innocence,
i’ll be the raindrops rising dew-like on your brow ~
you’ll see me sliding happily down a comely jacaranda,
as feral as the wind circling the crape myrtle, you’ll
find me waiting, a small gray dove in the dovecot,
loving you, one lifetime after another.
– Jamie Dedes
I was diagnosed with interstitial lung disease twenty-one years ago. I was given two years to live. Thanks to loving family support and excellent state-of-the-art medical care, I’m still alive and kicking. As the disease continues its progression, however, my activities have become increasing constrained. Over the past two years I’ve slowed down dramatically. I am holding the Zine back from fulfilling its wide promise. I find it hard to keep up with obligations and to honor my own ambitions and the prodigious talents and boundless ideas of my colleagues. The long-standing lung issues have evolved into respiratory and heart failure. Other challenges to productivity have popped their disconcerting heads. These include pulmonary hypertension and a rare blood cancer, uncurable but manageable. There is, however, good news.
I’ve had years none of us expected I’d have, years to enjoy my family, my friends, lots of music, reading and writing. I got to see my world-class son married. I’ve been able to spend time getting to know my beautiful multi-talented daughter-in-law and to visit with my cousin Dan when he came home to the States after years of living abroad. Daniel (now Fr. Daniel S. Sormani, C.S.Sp) and I grew up together. He is more like a brother to me than a cousin. Ultimately, I had the pleasure of forming an arts for peace community.
I began blogging in 2008 (The Poet by Day) and in 2011 I founded Into the Bardo with San Francisco Bay Area Poet Ann Emerson and Rob Rossel, a therapist and nature writer. Ann had a rare bone cancer and Rob faced cardiovascular problems. Our intention was to chronical living with dying. My friends preceded me into the bardo after just three years. I had to ponder what to do next.
The Original Zine Team Partners
This post is dedicated to them.
Ann Emerson, San Francisco Bay Area PoetTherapist and Nature Writer, Rob Rossell
I decided to broaden the scope of the blog, to create a platform for the global expression of peaceable minds, diverse perspectives and cultural understanding. This was a conscious effort to create a virtual space where we could find the commonalities across borders and learn that our differences are so often benign, not threatening. I found talented high-minded folks and a team slowly emerged. We grew from three members to twelve and a subscription base of a few hundred to one that is over 20,000.
We expanded our outreach joining with Washington State Methodist Minister, the Rev. Terri Stewart, and Beguine Again, our sister site. We became a larger presence via Twitter (thanks to Terri Stewart), a Facebook Page (The Bardo Group Bequines), and two Facebook Groups: The BeZine 100TPC (that is, 100,000 Poets and Friends for Change) and The BeZine Arts and Humanities Page. The idea behind the former is to share good news, the “best practices” that are happening all over the world and can be inspiration for initiatives in other areas. The idea behind the arts and humanities page is to give people a place to share the wide range of arts we all engage with or practice and to underscore the fact that “The BeZine” is not just or even primarily a poetry site. We welcome and encourage all types of creative expression.
I have led this effort since 2011 as manager, editor, and recruiter, but it is now time for me to bequeath this grace-filled platform into the hands of the rest of The Zine Team. Some of the support we get from team-members is quiet. You may not be aware of these stalwart and mostly behind-the-scene visionaries. Hence here is a list of the Zine team members.
John Anstie
Naomi Baltuck
Anjum Wasim Dar
Michael Dickel (Now Managing Editor, 100TPC Master of Ceremonies)
Priscilla Gallaso (has moved on but not until after making significant contributions)
Ruth Jewel
Chrysty Darby Hendrick
Joseph Hesch
Charles W. Martin
Lana Phillips
Corina Ravenscraft
Terri Stewart (Cloaked Monk, Zine Canoness, Beguine Again founder)
Kella Hanna Wayne
Michael Watson
WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN MY NEXT SUGGESTED BIG EFFORT?: The BeZine Educational Blog-Radio Shows:
Team-member Naomi Baltuck is our resident storyteller and also works for LBGTQ understanding and rights. She’d be the perfect person to do a show and introduce other storytellers to our audience and perhaps provide guidance and encouragement for those whose ambitions include this art.
Team-member and the Zine’s Canoness, the Rev. Terri Stewart, initiated and runs a program for incarcerated youth. She could bring more information to us on these children and perhaps encourage the start-up of other efforts elsewhere in the U.S. and wherever in the world youth incarceration needs addressing.
Team-member John Anstie is a singer and poet. Music is important to him. He works with the Sheffield Music Hub as a volunteer. He’s a bass singer in Fox Valley Voices and Hallmark of Harmony. If he was amenable to the idea, I’d like to see him bring together a small panel of musicians and composers to discuss the place of music in our lives.
Corina Ravenscraft works in several areas that engage, but animal rights is certainly of key importance as is art as avocation. If willing, she’d do beautifully with a couple such shows. (By the way, Corina’s running the Zine banner art contest this year. Check it out. Info HERE. Cash awards.)
Michael Dickel, a poet, writer, artist and educator teaches English and poetry. I’d love to see him do a show on poetry writing, especially one providing youth guidance.
There are so many people for whom English is not a first language but who love writing in English. Anjum Wasim Dar is the perfect person to interview and discuss the rewards and challenges of such should she choose to do so. Many of the Zine’s contributing writers have this in common with her.
Who better than Mbizo Chirasha to draw together other writers and poets for a discussion of the new colonialism of Africa?
And who better to handle a panel discussion on surviving life with disabilities and chronic illness than Kella Hanna-Wayne?
Many of our contributors run organizations that are working for the good in their communities: clothing closets, food banks, soup kitchens, after-school programs, boys-and-girls club activities and on and on. So much good is being done.
And how about a Zine anthology? The sales might help with the maintenance of this site and its activities as well as promoting and acknowledging our talented contributors.
I’d have loved to be involved in helping to bring such work to the fore. What do you think? Share your thoughts and preferences in the comments section below. Enthusiasm is encouragement. Maybe the team will decide to move forward on these ideas. It’s up to them, of course. They probably have some other and better ideas themselves. One way or another, whatever The Zine Team decides to do, it will be magnificent. Guaranteed.
With love from the edge of eternity, Jamie Dedes The BeZine Founding Editor, Editor Emerita
Your donation HERE helps to fund the ongoing mission of The Poet by Day in support of poets and writers, freedom of artistic expression, and human rights.
Poetry rocks the world!
“Every pair of eyes facing you has probably experienced something you could not endure.” Lucille Clifton
Thank you for sharing your love of words. Comments will appear after moderation.
Are you artistically inclined? Do you believe in raising awareness about important issues like Peace, Environmental Sustainability and Social Justice? Would you like a chance to display your visual arts talent to a global audience for a whole year? Could you use an Amazon Gift Card?
If this sounds like you, then we want to see your art! The BeZine 100TPC (One Hundred Thousand Poets for Change) is holding an open contest for our 2021 Banner. This respected online magazine showcases both budding and well-established, professional talent from poets, musicians, and all manner of artists from all over the world. The BeZine reaches a global audience of thousands of people and continues to attract additional readers, followers, and subscribers. Artists who are interested are encouraged to check out our site at: https://thebezine.com/ to see the kinds of things we publish, as well as read our mission statement and publishing guidelines.
There is no entry fee. Only one entry per person, please.
You may use any medium, but the final submission needs to be a digital format picture or slide (.jpg, .png or .bmp). Banners need to be: 820px x 360px (or 6.8” L x 3” H) so that we may also use it on our Facebook page. All entries should be mailed to dragonkatet2000@yahoo.com, and the Subject Line should read: ATTN The BeZine 100TPC Banner .
Submission Deadline is 12 pm Noon CST, Monday, August 31st, 2020. Winners will be announced Tuesday, September 15th, 2020.
• First Place: $100 Amazon Gift Card • Two Runners up: $25 Amazon Gift Card each
Thank you for sharing your love of words. Comments will appear after moderation.
“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”
Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul
The delay in getting this posted for you and the reason for it being the final Wednesday Writing Prompt: I was rushed to the Emergency Department few weeks ago and was not expected to make it through that first night. My wonderful pulmonary team pulled me through. After about two weeks or so of trying various medical protocols, I was released from the hospital and into in-home hospice care, which is where I am right now. I will keep The Poet by Day open so that you can reach for things that you might find helpful and inspiring. I may post periodically if I am up to it and have something worthy to say or news I believe people might find helpful. Family may post periodically as well. Meanwhile, my affection and gratitude to all of you who have been so very supportive and helpful and such a valued part of my life. You cannot know the joy you’ve gifted as I watch so many – including me – grow through these years. You and your work are valued.
Posted here today – belatedly but with love and appreciation – are poems in response to the last and final Wednesday Writing Prompt, With Twice Found Hope and Tender Love, June 24 . Thanks to Anjum Wasim Dar, Irma Do, Sonja Benskin Mesher, Frank McMahon, Mahfuz Rahman (new to our pages and warmly welcome), and Adrian Slonaker. Enjoy! … and poem on all …
In the spirit of peace, love (respect), and community, Jamie
Spirit Incarnate
I believe I am an spirit incarnate,
Landed from the skies above, on
a plate without a parachute, I
survived, though for many years
of childhood I had a wobbly walk,
would often fall from just anywhere,
and everyone started calling me,
“now what” and “ what next, where?”
Was a runner, everywhere, never hungry
loved the open air, loved books, all fair
life was joyful, life was free but in the
lawn, up the tree, under a watchful eye.
of some one elderly, unaware of witches
dangers, rapists, life had lots of company.
The air was clean, water was plenty, fruit
abundant, home was home not a house
less toys to playwith more books to read
there never was a sad time or an urgent need,
many now say “you had a good childhood”-
16mm screen movies funny films to see
every Sunday a picnic on the hills, must be-
out of war zone safely in peace, I thought
life was fun and love , no care or any worry,
but soon in teens the world all changed, war
came in with blackouts disturbed home-
curfew isolation restrictions all set in-since
1960s war has not stopped, terrorism spread
no place was safe, of race religion or creed
who was the enemy no one recognized- war
was for another’s cause, schools closed and
remained closed, danger at every step outside
what will the future be what will government
decide, uncertainty reigned over country-
peace came in bits and pieces, life was now
a cautionary tale, picnics died, inside, inside
eat homemade inside, where to run? Hardly
space for a short walk in the lane, but come
let’s walk. Let’s practice patience, as parents
became ill, life now is at a standstill, no parents
no kids, no jobs, no travel, no picnics, just press
the button –and plug in the wire life- switch on
the TV, watch the news, how many killed –stress
no, stay clean, wash hands, eat that is healthy
look in silence, other kids are playing in the lane
they do not know yet the pain or gain or war
they have not gone far, nor seen any real war
they fly simple kites, dream of ice cream cones
they look weak, almost skin and bones
life is calm now, to be grateful, and I dream of
flying up to the stars, my home is there in the
Milky way will I be alone ? No, friends will be
there, shining stars all the way, Life at times
makes me dance and I secretly do a few steps
you may laugh if you see me, but the best is yet
I believe I am an spirit incarnate,
Landed from the skies above, on
a plate without a parachute, I
survived, though for many years
of childhood I had a wobbly walk,
would often fall from just anywhere,
and everyone started calling me,
“now what” and “ what next, where?”
Was a runner, everywhere, never hungry
loved the open air, loved books, all fair
life was joyful, life was free but in the
lawn, up the tree, under a watchful eye.
of some one elderly, unaware of witches
dangers, rapists, life had lots of company.
The air was clean, water was plenty, fruit
abundant, home was home not a house
less toys to playwith more books to read
there never was a sad time or an urgent need,
many now say “you had a good childhood”-
16mm screen movies funny films to see
every Sunday a picnic on the hills, must be-
out of war zone safely in peace, I thought
life was fun and love , no care or any worry,
but soon in teens the world all changed, war
came in with blackouts disturbed home-
curfew isolation restrictions all set in-since
1960s war has not stopped, terrorism spread
no place was safe, of race religion or creed
who was the enemy no one recognized- war
was for another’s cause, schools closed and
remained closed, danger at every step outside
what will the future be what will government
decide, uncertainty reigned over country-
peace came in bits and pieces, life was now
a cautionary tale, picnics died, inside, inside
eat homemade inside, where to run? Hardly
space for a short walk in the lane, but come
let’s walk. Let’s practice patience, as parents
became ill, life now is at a standstill, no parents
no kids, no jobs, no travel, no picnics, just press
the button –and plug in the wire life- switch on
the TV, watch the news, how many killed –stress
no, stay clean, wash hands, eat that is healthy
look in silence, other kids are playing in the lane
they do not know yet the pain or gain or war
they have not gone far, nor seen any real war
they fly simple kites, dream of ice cream cones
they look weak, almost skin and bones
life is calm now, to be grateful, and I dream of
flying up to the stars, my home is there in the
Milky way will I be alone ? No, friends will be
there, shining stars all the way, Life at times
makes me dance and I secretly do a few steps
you may laugh if you see me, but the best is yet
“POETRY PEACE and REFORM Go Together -Let Us All Strive for PEACE on EARTH for ALL -Let Us Make a Better World -WRITE To Make PEACE PREVAIL.” Anjum Wasim Dar
A Shining Moment
I am drinking hot coffee despite the 90 degree weather, the sweet creamy liquid warming my nostrils before I take a sip. I hold it for a moment, savoring it’s decadence before swallowing, while watching my children run through the sprinkler. The sunlight glistens off the water droplets hanging onto their dark hair and tan skin. These diamonds sparkle and glisten before being flung into the air echoing the sound of their laughter. I drink my coffee and commit this happy, shining moment to memory.
Growing up, my sprinkler was the fire hydrant in front of my neighbor’s house. Instead of soft, squishy grass underfoot, we had pavement that left our feet raw from scrapes on the unyielding surface. Our laughter gurgled like the fire hydrant while our screams matched the siren wail of the police – a warning that our water play time would soon come to an end. My mother would drink black coffee and watch us from the stoop, her worries emanating from the lines between her eyes, like the sun’s rays burning our already darkened skin.
On this summer day, I drink my coffee, leaning against my marble countertop while looking at my children through the panoramic kitchen window and toast myself for not having wrinkles between my eyes.
Sunshine rewarding
Generations of hard work –
Suburban sprinkler
“I lost my heart in an English garden”.
My voice was a boat on a turquoise river,
the banks clustered with large red blossoms
framed by dark green leaves. I could warble then,
stretched out in the bath, Ave Marias
and such-like, could follow notes on staves
in the school-boy choir.
Something broke,
the song mid-flow as three girls turned
the corner, giggled and sneered. Later the boat
pitched and yawed, lost its bearings,
timbers creaking, barnacled.
Black on white, phrases tacking between
major, minor and older modes, singing
from heart and page,
no longer lost in a quiet street.
Sonja Benskin Mesher, RCA paintings (This is her Facebook page, so you can connect with her there as well as view photographs of her colorful paintings.)
Time flies and we move forward
It may take just a blink of eyes or a short span of time and everything happens.
Life has variations, however it changes.
Our little child body growing old someday.
Look, when I was a child,
was used to siting beside my mom.
Nowadays, I used to sit beside my beloved gal, but do miss that caress and softness.
Now, I sit alongside the river each and everyday, I look at the serene water. But this water can not extinguish my agonies because my heart is burning for a long since and became a volcano. It has already been broken down and became an ocean of catastrophic storms.
Still, I sit under that bunyan tree but I do miss those days when I was used to playing with my mates; was used to passing my good afternoons under its green shade.
I feel shy to go to under the neighbours tarmarind tree what was once my daily routine to pick up tarmarind.
At present, I write my pains with pen, do write all of the missing times and things.
Am turned young by courses of time, not more than a gradually developed materialistic worm,
Aged a score plus seven.
I can’t escape the present. What I can is to ruminate the bygones; am overall a reminiscient.
Thousands of days have been flied over
Millions of memories have been engraved with.
Mahfuz Rahman is from Bangladesh. He writes poems and short stories. His work is featured in Tuck Magazine, Persian Sugar in English Tea, and Gideon Poetry Review.
Quand J’étais Petit
Quand j’étais petit,
I preferred pink to blue
and flowers to football.
I longed to learn languages and
relished the garish gooseflesh
inflicted by ghost stories
and pizza after swims on
sweltering July afternoons with the
girl on Sunset Avenue I dreamt of
sharing a purple house with.
Maintenant que je suis grand,
complications have cropped up;
celeste bests salmon, but
bubblegum beats cobalt.
I still delight in deep-dish
and cool dips in the pool
and fancy a fistful of forget-me-nots,
but pigskin takes priority on
Super Bowl Sunday, and
I survive on my own in
an ivory building,
ruffled and flushed by
at a life far more real than the
showy shocks of
any Gothic thriller.
Your donation HERE helps to fund the ongoing mission of The Poet by Day in support of poets and writers, freedom of artistic expression, and human rights.
Poetry rocks the world!
“Every pair of eyes facing you has probably experienced something you could not endure.” Lucille Clifton
Thank you for sharing your love of words. Comments will appear after moderation.
Jamie Dedes' THE POET BY DAY Webzine 