Blog Archives

Jan 31~ WILL STEFFEN

1/31/2025

Welcome back! As we switch away from SHINE's recent book feature series, I have the pleasure of shining a spotlight on American poet, Will Steffen. Will is a Shakespearean scholar and educator who writes from his home in Holyoke, Massachusettes. Today, please enjoy his two poignant poems, "Oscar's Hand" and "A Wider Berth." Thank you, Will, for sharing your gift of words with SHINE!

Oscar's Hand

You’ll never guess what Oscar has in his hand,
Concealed by layers of skin that grew
Over the shard that got lodged in his hand
From broken glass the boy crawled through.
Somehow, it made it deep into his hand
Like it was a part of his hand, somehow,
And the older he grew, the more that his hand
Itched, so he scratched it with a penny.
And then his hand turned purple and fat
So your mother and I put him in the car
And drove him to the doctor’s, where he sat
In her lap with his little white toy car.
And he showed her his hand, pointed and itched,
And scratched at it until warm blood came.
With her knife she incised and removed it, stitched
The boy back together.
But he wasn’t the same.

A Wider Berth

“Main cabin, this is your captain speaking,”
Was probably not your penultimate thought,
As you stared up from the pool’s bottom, eyes
Bloodshot.

Mo had shuffled off without getting out of bed.
Her eyes turned yellow and after that she died.
And after words and for the next two days
You cried.

Your step-daughter’s children enjoyed the pool;
Bean-shaped, heated; water might close the gash
Your years of angry parenting let fester.
Splash!

“Who was that actress who was such a cunt?”
You asked between breaths. The children, elated,
Ignored your swears; the red airplane toy
Inflated.

You took a breath and pushed all your hot air
In the balloon, whose fuselage took (slowly) shape;
Your white lips, after every breath you blew,
Agape.

But later on, when company had gone,
You thought of Mo once more and drank and drank
And kept on drinking till you took a dip
And sank.

And did you find her there, I wonder,
Swimming in your mind, your wife, water-logged?
In a bottle? In the bath? Beside the drain,
Clogged?

“This is your captain speaking,” you may have thought.
They say you’re still alive after you drown,
Long enough for hope to rise, and then to sink
Back down.

Your will nearly finished, your debts almost paid,
All your affairs Mo’s behavior upended;
All of the love you meant to bequeath, behold:
Suspended.

Metastatic cancer, Diabetes,
HIV, Parkinson’s—you lamented
Your lot in life till you died and your guts
Fermented.

“This is your captain speaking,” you may have heard
As you reached for the edge of the rift
Between blood and water. Bow. Strain. Stretch. Strive.
Lift.

“Jesus is my co-pilot!” you farted back,
Your death not in vain, your lips not yet white,
Sunk in elevation, at last, your bloated body
Took flight.

You stayed there for two days and two whole nights,
Your loyal bitch barked black and blue and chose
To keep you company until, on the third day,
You rose.

And you and the toy sailed across the surface,
Skywriters practicing, accelerating,
Your sour breath still, some saturated plane
Deflating.

William Steffen is an associate professor of English at American International College in Springfield, Massachusetts, where he teaches courses in creative writing and Shakespeare. Though mostly new to publishing poetry, his short fiction has been featured in Last Girls Club, Deal Jam Magazine, and a number of anthologies. His short story “Melissa’s Ring,” was one of the winners of the Fall 2023 fiction prize hosted by Empyrean Literary Magazine. His creative non-fiction has been featured in Full Bleed. He is the author of several academic articles on Shakespeare's plays, as well as the monograph, Anthropocene Theater and the Shakespearean Stage. He lives in Holyoke, MA, with his wife and two children.

Jan 30~ BOOK FEATURE: Naomi Foyle

1/30/2025

Poetry lovers (and book lovers!), today SHINE concludes its short run of book features with the phenomenal work of Naomi Foyle. Naomi is a UK-based poet and novelist whose brand new collection, Salt and Snow was published by Waterloo Press earlier this month. I have already fallen in love with several poems from the collection, including two I'll shine a spotlight on today. Please enjoy the personal yet profound, "Winter Hay (i.m. of Yuri Drobyshev)," and "Ways of Seeing Trees (i.m. of John Berger)." Thank you, Naomi, for sharing your gift of words.

Winter Hay
(i.m. of Yuri Drobyshev)

Winter under cultivation
Is as arable as Spring.
-Emily Dickinson

Autumn had reaped a rare harvest –
three wise men
scythed by that dark star
which disappears when looked straight at
but burns the edge of sight.

A poet, friends, gathered in ‒
a trail of orchid pollen
Solomonic gold dust
an elephant’s last trumpet
their gifts to a cold New Year.

Surely sufficient grief
to see me through till spring.

But my homemade Christmas card
received in late reply
an unseasonable image –
mown hay from a sad Carol
her Russian sailor gone
across the night’s black sea.

My memory of his voice
an empty jar of caviar.

Ways of Seeing Trees
(i.m. of John Berger)

The tongue
is the spine’s first leaf
you wrote
and if that’s true –
which it must be
for whenever I repeat your words
to myself
I grow taller
taste sap –

then grief
that sour clench
in my stomach
at the news
of your stilled voice

is a burl in my torso
a barked knot
of injured grain
that warps the birthing ring
of this new year

but worked
by careful hand
may convert a canker
into re-enchanted Earth

and left to age
give courage girth.

Naomi Foyle is a British-Canadian poet, science fiction novelist, dramatist and essayist. Her many poetry publications include Red Hot & Bothered, winner of the 2008 Apples & Snakes 'The Book Bites Back' competition; The Night Pavilion (Waterloo Press), an Autumn 2008 PBS Recommendation; and the transatlantic Adamantine (Pasadena: Red Hen/Pig Hog Press, 2019). Her accolades include the Additional Prize in the 2012 Rialto/RSPB Nature Poetry Competition, First Prize in the 2021 Bristol Cathedral Poetry, Faith & Diversity Competition, the 2022 Brighton Fringe ONCA Green Curtain Award, and, for her poetry and essays about Ukraine, the 2014 Hryhorii Skovoroda Award (Ukraine). Naomi Foyle is a Fellow of the Muslim Institute and Reader in Critical Imaginative Writing at the University of Chichester. She lives in Brighton, UK.

Jan 28~ BOOK FEATURE: Ann Favreau

1/28/2025

Friends, today I have the honor of featuring a remarkably astute chapbook by Ann Favreau, The Dementia Spiral. Favreau's moving book was a finalist for the Florida Writers Association Royal Palm Literary Awards. Please enjoy two selections from The Dementia Spiral, "The Toast," and "Brainwork." Thank you, Ann, for sharing your words with SHINE !

The Toast

We raise our glasses for the toast.
“To your good health and happiness,” he says.
“And to yours,” I reply.

His clear glass goblet filled with red.
Mine, a blue glass flute
Sparkling with white.

I ladle the last of the leftover stew.
“Oh, this is a treat.
We haven’t had this for a long time.”

“To your good health and happiness,” he adds.
“And to yours,” I reply.
A simple bowl of stew, another toast.

He reaches for the bread to go with his salad, pauses
“To your good health and happiness.”
“And to yours, love,” I respond.

I’m happy that his health is good,
and hope his happiness will not fail
with his memory.

Brainwork

Whatever you believe, your brain confirms.
40,000 thoughts a day, the researchers say.
50/50 between negative and positive.
It’s easy to select the negative ones.
the ones the cavemen used to survive,
but if I am to thrive, I need to move beyond.
I must choose to find joy and consolation
in the day to day situations,
cast aside the off-putting aggravations,
replace them with acceptance
that his neural paths are intercepted.

Mine are capable of playing detective,
discovering what causes his anxiety or his need to repeat, then choosing a response.
So as we leave the house to do errands and he says,
“I’ll scootch down in the front seat.
That way whoever is watching the house will think I’m inside.”
Instead of responding that we have an alarm system
and enumerating the consequences of anyone trying to
break in, I say,
“What a good idea.”
He smiles.
We back out of the driveway and he sits up watching the traffic flow.

Ann Favreau is a retired educator who lives in Venice, FL. She is a member of the Florida Writers Association, Florida State Poets Association, and Past President of the Suncoast Writers Guild, Inc. in Englewood. She has self-published six books. Her writing has appeared in many newspapers, magazines, and anthologies. She has won local and national prizes for her prose and poetry and loves sharing her work with others. Contact her at [email protected]

<<Previous

Jan 31~ WILL STEFFEN

Oscar's Hand

A Wider Berth

Jan 30~ BOOK FEATURE: Naomi Foyle

Winter Hay
(i.m. of Yuri Drobyshev)

Ways of Seeing Trees
(i.m. of John Berger)

Jan 28~ BOOK FEATURE: Ann Favreau

The Toast

Brainwork

SHINE - International Poetry Series

Previous Features

Jan 31~ WILL STEFFEN

Oscar's Hand

A Wider Berth

Jan 30~ BOOK FEATURE: Naomi Foyle

Winter Hay(i.m. of Yuri Drobyshev)

Ways of Seeing Trees (i.m. of John Berger)

Jan 28~ BOOK FEATURE: Ann Favreau

The Toast

Brainwork

SHINE - International Poetry Series

Previous Features

Winter Hay
(i.m. of Yuri Drobyshev)

Ways of Seeing Trees
(i.m. of John Berger)