The Knoxville Poetry Liberation Front will offer a resistance reading on Sunday, June 22, 4-6 p.m. at the Old City Performing Arts Center (River & Rail Theatre). The $15 cover charge will be donated to The American Civil Liberties Union.
“A hard rain falls on the sea
If terror comes without a warning
There must be something we don’t see
What fire begets this fire? Like torches thrown into
the straw
If no one asks, then no one answers
That’s how every empire falls.”
(Excerpt from “That’s how every empire falls” by R.B. Morris, Knoxville’s first Poet Laureate.)
Knoxville is a place where music is born. And where there is music there is poetry, so it shouldn’t surprise anyone that there are poets among us, too; neighbors and friends and colleagues who write about our times.
Linda Parsons might just be the dean of local poets (not that she would claim that title for herself, as she is soft-spoken and modest), and although she’s a Nashville native, she has lived in Knoxville for more than 50 years and has participated in the local community of writers for 40 years.
“I am very grounded in my gardens in North Hills and feel very much at home here. I use a lot of gardens in my work.”
As I said, she is modest. The gardens surrounding her neat bungalow are lush and beautiful. And a quick Google search turns up an impressive list of accomplishments, including this:
“Parsons’ poems have appeared in the Georgia Review, Iowa Review, Prairie Schooner, Southern Poetry Review, The Chattahoochee Review, The Baltimore Review, Shenandoah and others. Her essays and poems have been published in the anthologies Sleeping with One Eye Open: Women Writers and the Art of Survival (1999), Her Words: Diverse Voices in Contemporary Appalachian Women’s Poetry (2002), and Listen Here: Women Writing in Appalachia (2003).
“Her column The Writing Well appeared in New Millennium Writings from 1995 to 2000. She currently coordinates WordStream, WDVX-FM’s weekly reading series with Stellasue Lee and is the reviews editor at Pine Mountain Sand & Gravel. Parsons is the copyeditor and proofreader for Chapter 16, Tennessee’s literary website, and was also playwright-in-residence for the Hammer Ensemble, the social justice wing of Flying Anvil Theatre in Knoxville.”
Finding herself increasingly concerned by current events, a couple of months ago Parsons started canvassing her colleagues to see if they’d be interested in sharing their concerns in a poetry reading. The response was overwhelming and positive, and the Knoxville Poetry Liberation Front was born.
Participating poets, in addition to Morris and Parsons, are his successor Poets Laureate Marilyn Kallet and Black Atticus as well as Drew Drake, Brian Griffin, Jack Rentfro, Susan Underwood, Denton Loving, Tom Weiss and Erin Elizabeth Smith.
“This is our way as artists to use our voices in a way that only we can,” she said. “My goal is to attract an audience that doesn’t normally attend poetry readings. You think, ‘What good will one voice do, or will 12 voices do?’ We can add to the hundreds, the thousands, the millions who are already out there.”
Bob Deck will add music to the program.
Parsons closed our conversation with a verse by Salman Rushdie:
“A poem cannot stop a bullet
A novel can’t defuse a bomb
But we are not helpless
We can sing the truth
And name the liars.”
– Salman Rushdie
Betty Bean is semi-retired and writes an occasional opinion column for KnoxTNToday.com.
Just a few nods about a better time, a time that cryptocurrency is about to steal from the entire World and especially, America based on Jeremiah 6:29-38.
Nods:
Along For The Good Old Days
Longing for the good old days
Longing for the ‘remember whens’
Do you find yourself wanting to wake up and do it again?
Longing for the home cooking meals
Riding in the old grey Dodge car,
gazing at all the passing fields
Remembering the way it was, people
who were kinder still
Walking up the gravel road-kicking a
Dew can as we would go
Sitting on the front porch sawing a log listening to the sound of a distant dog
Seems I find myself now and again
Longing for the good old days thinking of the simpler ways
LORD, we didn’t know it but we had it made
If I could I ‘wouldn’t’ go back there
Time has passed me by I know
A better place I know I’ll go
But it doesn’t hurt every now and agains
To take me a trip down the road in my memory of the “Remember Whens”
Seems I can still recall Mom calling out to all, “Come on home, boy, suppers made”
Beans and taters sure taste good
I would gorge on those now if I could
All these things now seem to fade /
Got me a wife and daughter of my own
She’s still my little baby even though
she’s grown
She’s all married and doing so well
Wish Mom could have seen her in her day
Things are the way they should be
Wouldn’t want it any other way
God has a plan He sees well fit-and
that’s the better for me
Still it doesn’t hurt too much now and again, thinking of those ways
Longing for the good old days
shep\@05202017