Little Miracles: Poem by Donna Snyder

Miriam’s Well published my poem “Little Miracles”

Miriam's Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond

Little miracles

Hoping for succor, promises pinned to purple velvet. Arms, hands,
legs, and backs dangle from ribbon, unblinking eyes tied to statues,
a show and tell for saints and God.

Candles smoulder. Candles turned upside down until what was lost
is found, wagers made with the Paduan, pleas to restore tranquility,
if not possessions mislaid or love stolen.

Faithless wander through shadows as tourists, but see these flagels
studded with cactus spine. Believers crawl here to kiss sainted feet,
leave bits of knees and hands behind.

Blood sacrifice. Prismatic eyes. Body of terra cotta, breath of dust.
Iniquitous night inhabits the sky. Demon mouths filled by succulence
of pearls. An owl signifies either wisdom or death.

A blue glass eye shields from evil intent. They bathe in blessed mud
said to heal the feeble and lame. Crutches at the door, proof of miracles.
Piñon smoke. Scent of juniper, palo…

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Suddenly aware of the dark by Donna Snyder

Thank you, Miriam Sagan, for including my poem in Miriam’s Well. I could not be more pleased.

Miriam's Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond

Suddenly aware of the dark

Blank dark fades my consciousness to empty shadow.
I feel caught in the antics of the Hollywood Squares,
a game show I saw on Grandma’s tv when I was small,
black and white and snowy from the Western Auto store.
A crown of artificial flowers dusty in a green glass swan
nests on a white doily hand-tatted by someone dead.

B list actors playing the fool miraculous as resurrection,
no tv in my parents’ house back in the Twitty flats.
No cable service out there, no money for an antenna,
and anyhow Mama was afraid of attracting storm gods.
So visits to Grandma featured three channels of magic,
handsome cowboys, and Disney’s Wonderful World.

In the kitchen a white formica table below a wall of gifts,
the piece of cedar from the Ozarks with The Last Supper,
the pretty Jesus with compassionate eyes framed in…

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Three Questions for Poet Donna Snyder from Miriam’s Well

Thank you, Miriam Sagan, for including this interview of me in your series found at Miriam’s Well.

Catafalco_Cove_final

Miriam's Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond

Questions

What is your personal/aesthetic relationship to the poetic line? That is, how do you understand it, use it, etc.

Aside from childhood efforts, I began writing poetry in my early 30s, without any academic training. I was an obsessive lap swimmer, and my line length tended to be similar in length, read aloud as my natural breath. I soon became aware of the use of lines to emphasize specific words and images. Later, my line breaks began to signal both punctuation and continuation. My writing is innately rhythmic, likely influenced by performing my poetry with a band of musicians, artist, and performance poets from the West Texas/Northern Chihuahua/Southern New Mexico border region.

Do you find a relationship between words and writing and the human body? Or between your writing and your body?

The connection between my body and my poetry is multilayered. I tend to write in an uncalculated…

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Miriam Sagan’s review of THE WOMAN WHO FELL TO EARTH: AN IMAGINED LIFE OF ANA MENDIETA by Diana Rico

I love and respect Ana Mendieta and her art. Thank you, Miriam Sagan.

Miriam's Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond

I was very intrigued to discover that fellow New Mexican writer Diana Rico was as fascinated by the work and life of Cuban-American artist Ana Mendieta as I was. This feminist artist was one of the first to create ritualist performance, imprinting the earth, often with her body, in a way that was both non-commercial and low impact in terms of the site.
Her death, a fall from a Manhattan highrise, seems shockingly metaphoric in this context. I was cautioned by the women’s history professor who introduced me to Mendieta’s work to not confuse art and biography. This may be ideologically correct, but impossible for a poet.
There is a long poem about Mendieta in my collection MAP OF THE LOST.
And a section of Rico’s book below.

HEADLINES

The headlines screamed for weeks afterward. They finally quieted after two-plus years. The amount of time it would take for two…

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