I can’t get rid of useful things
and nobody wants to pick them up,
I keep forgetting where I lay my umbrella.
I don’t leave footprints in the snow anymore,
we haven’t had a war on domestic soil in so long
I wonder if I still got it. Because once I had it.
I heard about a boy who once tied a string to his brother,
he tied his brother to the ocean and the ocean to the blackbird—
from the ground all the birds look like blackbirds
from the ground a Stealth Bomber looks like a spaceship.–Excerpt from Carpet Bomb by Kenyatta Rogers
April is over, but we’re still celebrating National Poetry Month this May by welcoming Kenyatta Rogers to the studio. The award-winning author, instructor, and editor of Rhino Poetry will teach Finding Your Poetic Voice starting May 16th.
We’re not allowed to play favorites when deciding what types of stories we like best. But the beauty, the rhythms, the images, and the emotions that emanate from great poetry is certainly at the top of the list.
Each poet offers a unique voice and perspective to their art and this season at the Studio we’re all about Voice. Kenyatta’s 4-week workshop is focused on helping you add your voice and your poems to the world. The course will help you build a poetry habit by working on Writing Habits, Forms & Prompts, Revision, and Workshop.
If you’ve been writing secret poems for years that have never seen the light of day. Or, if you’ve worked with our teaching poets in the past, then you should definitely take a look at Finding Your Poetic Voice.
Here’s the thing: even if you’re not a poet, this class is a great opportunity for you to strengthen your fiction and nonfiction by deepening your understanding of the poetics of prose. Join us starting May 16th to discover the power and potential of your writing voice through poetry.
Under a sun that burns
like a forgotten kettle, there is an eclipse.
A sun, a blood moon.
My mind is a broken snow fence.
Before there was me there was me.
Before a red-breasted bird there was me.
In a cavern, yes, there was me.
In a cavern, yes, I danced it away.
– Excerpt from Entry by Kenyatta Rogers