Thursday, November 22, 2018

PUSHCART PRIZE NOMINEES FROM 2018

 
I am thankful
for all the wonderful people who touch my life during the year, and for the honor and privilege of making books for poets who trust me with their manuscripts.

 
Each year, Pushcart Press permits little magazine and small book press editors to nominate up to six works by writers they've published during the calendar year. The deadline is December 1st. Acceptances for the annual Pushcart Prize Best of the Presses anthology usually begin arriving in April.

These are the NightBallet Press Pushcart Prize nominees from 2018:

Pat & Bill Hurley
"Star-Crossed"
from the NightBallet Press book Hard to Swallow, February 2018

Alex Gildzen
"Our Lady of the Dark"
from the NIghtBallet Press book Son of Hollywood, March 2018

John Burroughs
"Whend"
from the NightBallet Press book Loss and Foundering, April 2018

Jeanette Powers
"How We Got to Cedar Creek"
from the NightBallet Press book Gasconade, April 2018

M. J. Arcangelini
"Marcus Has Sold His Pick-Up Truck"
from the NightBallet Press book Waiting for the Wind to Rise, August 2018

Sandra Feen
"Palms Monday"
from the book Fragile Capacities, October 2018

Congratulations to the nominees! We will keep the fingers on both hands crossed as the envelope carrying your works wings its way to New York.

If you wonder how I've arrived at the choices above, it's entirely subjective. These are poems that caught my attention, made me laugh, made me cry, made me want more.

If your work wasn't chosen, please don't think your words touched me any less. I can only choose six poems from all the ones I've published over the last eleven months. Your poetry is just as special to me, and I assure you I'll continue to seek showcases for you and your books.

Thank you, all of you, the poets, the readers, the supporters, for another spectacular year here at NightBallet Press.
I love you.

Sunday, November 18, 2018

THROWBACK THURSDAYS by MARGIE SHAHEED

 
 

 
 

Today's NightBallet Press publication of
Throwback Thursdays by Margie Shaheed
is a bittersweet and heartbreaking joy.

The cover photo, a work by the artist Bree, is titled "Longevity 8.7.18" and shows a vibrant sunflower facing both forward and backward. I felt this to be an apt representation of the poetry in Throwback Thursdays.

Before she became ill, Margie and I had talked about the new manuscript she was working on. She was excited about the prospect of having a new book in the new year. When she phoned me in September to tell me she had cancer, she again mentioned her new manuscript. After she died earlier this month, her daughter Aqueelah and I discussed NBP publishing Throwback Thursdays as a posthumous and loving tribute.



photo by the Shaheed family

Today would have been Margie's 60th birthday. Today, this book is published to celebrate and honor her.

Of the fifteen poems in Throwback Thursdays, my personal favorite, and one I think is pure Margie, is "Life Lesson":

Life Lesson

poetry ran through mama's veins like blood
runs out of a slaughtered pigfast and hot
she said life was nothing without the poem
to clarify its existence. i believed her


photo by John Burroughs

Margie Shaheed was a treasured community poet, writer, and performance artist. She was an enthusiastic and dedicated supporter of NightBallet Press. But more than that, she was my friend. I am privileged to have known her, to have heard her read, and to have produced four books for her, including her three previous NBP books of poetry,
Mosaic, Onomatopoeia, and Dream Catcher. I will miss talking with her on the phone. I will miss making books for her.



photo by Chad Parmenteau

NightBallet Press wishes to extend our deepest sympathy to the Shaheed family, and to thank them for allowing us to send Margie Shaheed's poetry, once more, out into the world. NightBallet Press will continue to represent Margie Shaheed, and will continue to make sure her Voice is heard.

Throwback Thursdays is our memorial tribute to this remarkable poet. It is a testimony of Margie's work...her honest, poignant portrayal of an African-American woman's life experiences, memories, and hopes for the future. You may obtain a copy of Margie's final book of poetry by clicking on the PayPal link below.





Sunday, November 11, 2018

A CELEBRATION OF MARGIE SHAHEED



 
MARGIE SHAHEED
born November 18, 1958
died November 3, 2018

BOOKS
Mosaic (NightBallet Press, 2013)
Onomatopoeia (NightBallet Press, 2015)
Dream Catcher (NightBallet Press, 2017)
Tongue Shakers: Interviews and Narratives on Speaking Mother Tongue in a Multicultural Society (Hamilton Books, 2016)
Playground (Hidden Charm Press, 2015)
Throwback Thursdays (NightBallet Press, 2018)

I first met Margie Shaheed when she read for Poetry in the Woods at the Shaker Heights Public Library. Here are several photos from that night. The reading changed both our lives forever. 

(photo by John Burroughs)


(photo by John Burroughs)


(photo by John Burroughs)



On February 14, 2013, at 10:14 pm, I wrote to Margie on FB Messenger:

"Hi, Margie, here I am: Dianne Borsenik, NightBallet Press. LOOOOOOVED your reading tonight! You RAWK, gf! Can't wait to hear more. Let me know when you're reading in the Cleveland area...will try to be there!"

Margie immediately responded:

"Ok. So nice to meet you. I hope we can do a chapbook together. You have a nice looking product. I'll check out your website and we'll talk. Glad u enjoyed the reading. I had fun too."

By March 14, 2013, she had sent me her manuscript of poems, which became Mosaic, the first book NightBallet Press published for her.


(Mac's Backs, Cleveland Heights, OH, 2018,
photo by Chandra Alderman)


                                                                         (Ohioana, Columbus, OH, 2014
                                                                               photo by Julie L. Moore)




(Shoreway Poets, Cleveland, 2014,
photo by Dianne Borsenik)
She sent me two more manuscripts, which became Onomatopoeia and Dream Catcher.

Margie Shaheed was a remarkable force of nature. At the time Margie died,

Dream Catcher was in its 9th printing, in August, 2018.
Onomatopoeia was in its 29th print run.
Mosaic was in its 44th print run.

To the best of my reckoning, with the three titles combined, Margie sold at least 1,800 copies of her NBP books.

A friendship was born that first day we met. She was intelligent, proud, and funny. Although we saw each other only occasionallyshe lived/worked between Cleveland Heights, OH and Memphis, TNwe were in frequent contact. I last saw Margie and heard her read when she visited Cleveland for Kleft/Crisis in April, 2018.

We worked together very well. She trusted my design skills and editing implicitly. I loved her unique Voice and the way she wrote about the African-American experience so clearly, honestly, and poignantly. Her poems were true gems, and I am honored and privileged to have been given the opportunity to publish them.

 

(Appletree Books, Cleveland Heights, OH,
photo by Dianne Borsenik)


(Guide to Kulchur, Cleveland, OH,
photo by John Burroughs)


From Mosaic:

Nostalgic Hair Affair
for Eula and Alicia

Your life, a shrine I've erected in my mind...
where today I see you sitting on the porch of our Hough
Avenue apartment in a ragged turquoise dining room chair.
Cotton sticks to the back of your housedress whenever you rise.
Barefoot, your toes wiggle against the warm concrete floor in cool
satisfaction of a large jelly jar filled with ice cubes and Pepsi-Cola.
The heat of summer and cornbread and pinto beans cooking
have long pushed you out of the kitchen.

Your life, a shrine I've erected in my mind...
where I hear you call me in from the dirt yard.
Poised for my next shot, I look up at my friend
because now we must abruptly end our game of marbles.
Armed with a brutish Afro comb and hairbrush,
you sit me down between your legs;
your familiar scent settles me.
As you grease my scalp with Dixie Peach
I can't help but remember the first time I met my friend Silk
       "Do you know why dey call me Silk? Cuz, Ah'm sooo Black.
       If you was to rub some Vaseline on mah skin right now,
       I'd look jus' like a pair of black silk stockin's."
Ouch!
I recoil from the pain of teeth
dragging through my resistant napps.
Smack!
You hit my hand
with the back of the comb
and tell me to be still.

Your life, a shrine I've erected in my mind...
where I feel you momentarily break away from your task
to sing along with a stactic-version of the Temptations
song blaring from our hi-fi.
Although I dare not turn around to look at you
I know your head is bobbing up and down
like an apple in water to the beat.
When the last lyric fades into radio announcements,
your knees tighten against my shoulders.
I wipe the beads of water from my neck,
the sweat that has dripped from the jelly jar,
and I fearfully brace myself for round two.

Your life, a shrine I've erected in my mind...
where my hair eventually loses the fight
                to six plaits intersected by crooked parts.



From Onomatopoeia:

Rhyme and Rituals (Part 1)

We are poem with story to tell 'bout how in Newark Brick City
we hit rhythms hard-pounding beginning from the nature of
rhyme we maintain essential breath dead center of mama's
heartbeat we are rhythm background melody humanity's
collective memory swingin' in the womb rockin' us time-
thrusting forward we are life's ritual voices unleashing
saxophones of pure language yeah soul-stirring music telling
the world what must be told we paste paper to the wall
penning poems and stories in single breaths we are books
breathing pages of tongues loosened & sharpened Piscean
visions blowing we become mouths of air awakened
renewed a-pant of hopes and fulfilled roundness & when
despair and pain come a-creepin' we invoke our warrior
selves to redirect the beat cuz we are notes bent on writing
rhymes rhymes that reaffirm the ritual of telling it exactly like
it is so read our words as we unroll oil dust & silver beats
from underneath fingernails of blue matter contained in
native selfwe seek to understand the compositionblood
is thicker than water & knowing a belly full of gritty hot fish &
buttery grits, a philosopher's stone & a city's bricks it is the
passion from where we live holding it all down keeping it real
like mama's heartbeat background memory humanity's
melody the only rhyme we know we are poem with story to
tell the ritual swingin' in the womb readying to be born



From Dream Catcher:

Age Has Found Me

Age has found me with a tube of red lipstick
a missing front tooth and a partial I had to put
in the layaway cuz it cost too much to buy outright
Got pesky moles removed from my face an early
Christmas present from my friend who told me my skin
would look like the excitement I felt the first time
I went roller skating

Age has found me with a pair of red stilettos
an unused membership to the Y and the good sense
not to have my grandchildren sewn into the hem of my skirt
I've seen this in women I've known beforevoluntarily raising
another set of kidsmakes you forgo the fruit
that makes this old woman shake

Age has found me with a bottle of red nail polish

five bottles of pills a handful of supplements
and doctors' appointments disguised as social events
Mama's wisdom once elusive as an eclipse
canvas stretched over my chest
soft flames fly from my mouth
cuz now I turn my face to hers
as I repeat what she always called truth

Age has found me with a red laced mini-dress
books of blank pages a calligrapher's pen
and a palm full of brown sugar
thrown into a pot of boiling corn
My back is sore my right knee aches
but my strokes are bold and long
penning scripts exploring landscapes
walking the terrain anticipating what's next

  
No one could deny that Margie Shaheed read her poems slowly, sweetly, truly, from the heart. Her poems were a part of her very being, and everyone who heard her read knew it.


(Mac's Backs, Cleveland Heights, OH,
photo by John Burroughs)

(Appletree Books, Cleveland Heights, OH,
photo by Dianne Borsenik)


Margie phoned me on Friday, September 7, 2018 to say good-bye. I can't believe she's gone. Her daughter Aqueelah has give me permission to publish one last book of poems for Margie. The forthcoming Throwback Thursday will be my tribute to this dear, wonderful, passionate friend.

(Nancy Gerber of Mom Egg Review has also written a tribute piece to Margie Shaheed; you can follow the link to it here.)


 Peace & Blessings to you, Margie. Rest in Peace. I love you. I will never forget you.
 
                                                          (photo property of Aqueelah Shaheed, 2018)