I made this poetry and art video for the virtual Art Bar Poetry Series. The poems are accompanied by paintings and drawings that speak to their message. Hope you enjoy the video!
On Wednesday, October 27, Brenda Clews and Jennifer Hosein will present poetry along with videos of their visual art on Zoom. There will be 8 open mic spots. RSVP or sign up for the open mic.
Thank you to the League of Canadian Poets for their generous support.
Welcome to High Park sound walk. By following the route on the Echoes app, you will hear a selection of original poems read aloud by the poets themselves.
Each poem represents a different location within High Park and encourages visitors to discover spots for quiet contemplation. Inspired by the monumental trees and surrounding landscape, these poems serve as a celebration of the unique features of the area. Voice of Trees High Park is a collaboration between Giovanna Iorio, Michael Rothenberg, Robert Priest and Larry Sawyer.
It is such an honour to have my poem, Exile, included in the High Park Sound Walk, along with these amazing poets:
Bill Bissett- A Tree
Phil Hall- Toward A Blacker Ardour
Mark Goldstein- My Ravine
Larry Sawyer-Memory Suit
Lina Ramona Vitkauskas- Taiga
Geoff Bouvier-Those Old Familiar Ditties
Dale Smith- Grass Seeds
Charlie Petch-Daughter of Geppetto Part 4
Jennifer Hosein- Exile
Lillian Allen- I Saw A Perfect Tree
Robert Priest- A Tree Will Take The Heat For You
John Robert Colombo-Memory of Falling from a Tree
Lawrence Bayne- Tree
Patrick Connors – The Path
Michael Holmes- St. Marys Deacon Blues
Honey Novick- High Park
Marty Smith- The tree and me by onecloud
Clifton Joseph – Not poem
There will be 29 authors reading on Sunday, September 19th in High Park. I am thrilled to be one of the readers. The event will be hosted by Andrew Brooks and Alvin Wong in Picnic Site #19 which is just across from the Grenadier Cafe.
“My mother’s toes are / crooked and curled / in a misguided, arthritic map / of rain days,” writes Jennifer Hosein in the eponymous poem of her debut collection, A Map of Rain Days. In these lines there is a conflation of body and world, but also of space and time. Time becomes an entity that is spatially translatable and cartographically organizable. This is a conceit that manifests in a variety of ways over the course of the book, with the speaker’s personal history folding, unfolding, refolding in non-chronological complexity, often as not invoked by a particular locale being seen or remembered. Like rain, which comes and goes, is here and not, but is always, always (and necessarily) returning, the speaker’s suffering is not presented as a phenomenon that she will progress beyond or definitively escape from. There is no world without rain, and trauma is a recurrent (but never ceaseless or omnipresent) element of the speaker’s environment. Alternating between vivacious and restrained, Hosein’s poems are alive to the panoply of human experience.