Suzanne Edison, MA, MFA

Poet • Educator

Poems

Poetry helps me find “the place beyond words.” We poets use words to point ourself and others toward those ineffable places. When this water of 'being' is running through me, I write for the joy of participating and the hope of learning something new. If my words then touch others I am rewarded a second time.

By

breathing

A poem from my chapbook The Moth Eaten World. Written in 2008, this poem seemed appropriate today after writing about Luck and Fortune. I realize how far I’ve come from this painful place, but I also recognize that writing this allowed me to keep moving spiritually to a more true place for myself. Please excuse the formatting, there shouldn’t be spaces between the couplet lines.

breathing

                                    after Robert Hass

 

I left God in her Temple when you got sick.

 

Foolish to utter that name, like lassoing clouds

wandering an indigo arc.

 

I praise instead sunflowers’ beneficent heads

their Fibonacci faces divining light, sing hymns

 

of beans, corn and all dirt shrouded

tubers begging us bend

 

as we sow, witness the parlay of earth-

worms, their castings, our gold.

 

I rant prayers to righteous communities of bees,

their fierce loyalty spinning alchemies day and night.

 

On the wild shore, where the sea breaks its back,

between foam and spray I walk splintered

 

like an armless starfish, waiting: for the turn

of tide, a waxing breath, my place among

 

the minyan of slack-jawed facing slack water.

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20/20 — a poem

I was trolling the internet a month or so ago when I discovered that I’d had a poem published and I didn’t know it. It is in a journal called Ars Medica  that used to be in print format but is now online only. I kept waiting to receive the print one and didn’t realize it would never come until I saw this and contacted the editor.

This poem is in response to interviewing a couple of moms who have sons with Duchenne’s Muscular Dystrophy. But for anyone whose child suffers a rare illness for which there is a gene mutation, I think you can relate. And for those with healthy children, I hope it provides a different perspective..

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I’m Done Falling

This could be the anthem for the entire session of Teens Writing from the Heart of Illness & Healing.

I'm Done Falling photo

This is the cover of the anthology of the teen’s writings. After 8 weeks of reading and writing prompts in which a diverse group of students gradually opened up about the health issues they deal with, through their writing, we gathered them into this final version.  They were a reticent group to begin with, or perhaps, just more reserved overall than the previous two groups, and they came from the eastside of Lake Washington, Beacon Hill and the central area in Seattle.

The poem from which the title was taken was written by a senior in high school. It was actually the last thing she wrote, written surprisingly quickly from a prompt on the second to last session that my co-teacher, Aaron Counts provided. The prompt started as a way to get them to write a brief biography of themselves in 24 words. In each successive version they had to reduce the “biography” by half, eventually whittling it down to one word.  Then, they were to take that one word and write a poem from it. Falling is the name of the poem and I am including it (but not the author’s name)  here.

 

Falling

 

Falling into a dark hole.

Someone catch me,

don’t let me fall.

Catching myself fast

to try and land on my feet.

Maybe falling feels better,

not knowing where I’m going

Fear, discomfort, curiosity, darkness.

I’m done falling, I landed on my feet.

I made it, but I’m not done,

I never am.

 

For a copy of this anthology or any of the other two, please let me know. I am especially happy to get them into the hands of anyone working with chronically ill kids in any setting..

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The Healing Art of Poetry Reading

Seven kids from the workshop Teens Writing from the Heart of Illness & Healing read a selection of their poems the other night to crowd of parents, friends, community members, medical doctors and staff at Odessa Brown Children’s Clinic in Seattle.  They read with power and conviction and wowed everyone in attendance. Parents were surprised at the strength and insightfulness of their words, at the deep emotional clarity and risk-taking.  The audience was supportive and appreciative and I think the teens themselves were proud and maybe amazed, at the effect their words had.

Here are a few excerpts from their work:

from Lost

 

I’m lost in my mind spinning around.

I’m lost in my memories still to be found.

I’m lost in my heart deep inside.

I’m lost in my smile so sweet and kind.

I’m lost in my past I’m lost in my present.

                                                        (Elijah Jones)

Where I’m from smells of fresh-baked bread

and rosemary rubbed between

warm hands.

I’m from dancing like drunk people

on the altar platform

twirling through

Christ is born

and Christ is risen

from Rejoice! and the corners of creation.

I’m from the perfect

is the enemy of the good

and good enough

is never really good enough….

                                                   (Kat Santarelli)

from Sickle Cell

…Constantly in hospitals accompanied by televisions and books

as best friends

tears became my voice, fear was my only choice

at the age of eight.

I was given opportunities to only be turned down

as the pain arised and the devil tattooed the word, “demise.”

my life had reached it’s point…

                                                     (Laelah Ndifon)

You can find the full body of their work in the chapbook Based on a True Story: Just Beyond the Gate,Based on a True Story: Just Beyond the Gate available through the Online Store.

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