Tag poetry

three invitations to look

José Angel Araguz Leave a comment

Last fall, one of my poems, “Confessions of a Former Scarecrow,” was featured as part of Prairie Schooner’s Intern Picks series. I’m grateful to have the poem receive that attention and wanted to share it again here as I continue thinking about looking, attention, and transformation in relation to my upcoming workshop.

You can read the feature here:
Prairie Schooner Intern Picks Fall Feature

And the poem here:
“Confessions of a Former Scarecrow”

Here is a stanza from the poem:

I’m not a man but a wariness,
a warning to keep clear of the field.
I stand, friendless—what friends, tell me,
are apple trees, a trail of leaves,
the wasted weather, these apples worn
to a sun-brown, and then just brown,
a rot and musk—everyone reeks
to me, no man, half-made of air.

Photo by Septimiu Lupea on Pexels.com

Returning to this stanza now, I’m struck by the way the speaker looks out from a transformed state. The poem does not simply describe a scarecrow; it lets the speaker become a field of wariness, warning, weather, rot, and air. The act of looking here is shaped by estrangement. The speaker sees from the edge of personhood, or from a place where personhood itself feels unstable.

That feels connected to some of the questions behind my upcoming workshop, “Look / Mira: Latinx/e Ways of Looking in Poetry & Prose.” What happens when looking is not neutral? What happens when the gaze is shaped by memory, body, place, fear, language, or transformation? How might a poem or essay allow us to see from a position we could not otherwise name?

I’m interested in writing that lets looking become more than description. Looking can become pressure. Refusal. Witness. Inheritance. A way to survive. A way to change shape.

A Community Event This Weekend

I also want to share information about a literary event happening this weekend in Cambridge:

Be a Phoenix: A Tribute to Gazan Poet Heba Al-Madhoun
Sunday, June 7
3:30–5:30 PM
The Foundry
101 Rogers St, Cambridge, MA 02142

The event invites the Boston-area literary and academic community to gather in tribute to the late Gazan poet Heba Al-Madhoun, whose newly translated poems are being brought to readers here.

Poet and editor Devin Johnston writes of her work:

“These poems are quite lovely and moving. I love their exploratory, searching quality, through matters of feeling. My points of reference for Arabic poetry are all too few, but I do think of Adonis (and a few other Damascus poets) in some of the features here. But Heba Al-Madhoun’s poems are a little less mythic and declamatory, a little more quiet and questioning. … a very worthy project, for the work itself, and for the work it would do for readers.”

Tickets are free, with advance reservation requested.

Register here:
https://givebutter.com/heba-memorial

Workshop Reminder: Look / Mira

Lastly, a reminder that I’ll be leading a free virtual generative workshop next week through the Sundress Academy for the Arts:

Look / Mira: Latinx/e Ways of Looking in Poetry & Prose
Wednesday, June 10
6:00–7:30 PM EST
Online via Zoom

In this workshop, we’ll think about looking as a way of writing: looking as inheritance, looking as refusal, looking through place and body, and looking toward what might still be possible. We’ll read brief excerpts, write from guided prompts, and make space for poetry, prose, fragments, lists, memories, and hybrid forms.

Participants can register and access the free event here:
http://tiny.utk.edu/sundress
Password: SAFTA

I hope to see some of you there.

upcoming workshop: Look / Mira

José Angel Araguz 4 Comments

Next week, I’ll be teaching a virtual generative workshop on Latinx/e ways of looking in poetry and prose. In the spirit of the workshop, I’ve been thinking about looking as attention, inheritance, witness, and return. What it means to look with language. To look with the body. To look while carrying what family, place, fear, tenderness, and survival have taught us to notice.

The Spanish word mira carries both invitation and urgency. Look. See. Notice. Pay attention. It can be tender, corrective, playful, protective. It can also be a way of saying: something is happening here, and I need you to witness it with me.

That is the spirit behind my upcoming generative workshop, “Look / Mira: Latinx/e Ways of Looking in Poetry & Prose,” hosted by the Sundress Academy for the Arts on Wednesday, June 10, from 6:00–7:30 PM EST. This event will be held over Zoom. Participants can register and access the FREE event at tiny.utk.edu/sundress (password: SAFTA).

In the workshop, we’ll read brief excerpts from poetry and prose and use them as openings into our own writing. We’ll think about looking as inheritance, looking as refusal, looking through place, and looking toward what might still be possible. The goal is not to explain identity or experience, but rather to notice how writing can hold the layered ways we have learned to see and be seen.

Participants will be invited to write in response to low-stakes prompts. Poetry, prose, fragments, lists, memory, speculation, and hybrid forms are all welcome. Sharing will be optional.

I’m especially interested in the moments when the gaze shifts: from the self to the family, from the room to the remembered place, from the body to the ancestor, from what happened to what language makes possible.

What have you inherited as a way of seeing?

What have you learned not to look at directly?

What might become visible if you let memory, place, and language look back?

I hope you’ll join me.