San Francisco Poet and Writer

I've moved my blog

2010-04-15T16:14:00.000-07:00

Here is the new link: http://web.me.com/ingridkeir/ Thanks for reading, Ingrid

Moving to Oakland

2010-04-08T12:02:00.000-07:00

I’ve gotten quite a few responses from poets on the call for poetry. I thank you for sharing your work, it is really moving to be trusted enough to see your work. I know it is difficult to share work in progress.

I’ve been writing a lot of poems about Oakland lately, since I’ve recently relocated to this vibrant and sassy city. I’ve also been participating in a lot of community neighborhood planning meetings. I have mixed feelings about a lot of the topics that are covered which can range from not so important (NIMBY or not in my backyard!!) to very large crime issues. One thing I’d like to do is get involved in a youth outreach project in the area as there is a lot of opportunity. I believe in the kids.

At one of these meetings it became evident that the residents of a particular block had reached the limit with some gang activity. There has been a number of high speed accidents where people were accidentally killed by gang members fleeing the area. This poem is a work in progress.

Beat 6X Ingrid Keir

I went to the first neighborhood meeting

since I’ve moved to Oakland.

I walked into All Souls church,

sat in the mahogany Baptist pews.

I went to listen, to meet the neighbors.

To meet the folks in my area,

Beat 6X. There was a well manicured lady

from the Census Bureau

talking about jobs for the unemployed.

She handed out pamphlets

emphasized the 2010 Census

is not something to be afraid of. Next on the agenda

a middle aged woman

giving an update on crime.

It became clear she was a lawyer

representing the neighbors

She circulated photos

12 photos of young men and women.

They looked like ghosts.

Staring into the camera with hardened faces,

brows of steel.

12 photos

Mugshots

Yet most of them looked like teens

underneath their anger. Babies.

She tells the audience

“these are members of Ghosttown.”

The notorious gang

who hang out on the corner

of Apgar and 38th

West and 34th She went on to say

“if anyone in the audience can identify these individuals

we can step outside to discuss it in private.”

A few people headed for the door,

waiting to speak with the lawyer. I felt conflicted

as the photos

were passed around like a deck of trading cards.

It stung.

And yet, the tension in the room was thick like mud.

It is clear the residents have had reached the limit with

crime and drugs. The lawyer went on to say

the neighbors of 34th and West

filed a civil lawsuit

against an inattentive landlord

who let the drug dealers deal

in his property. I was startled to see 8 cops

sitting in the church pews,

listening intently

to the community.

Cops, who have always scared me

with their shiny badges and fat guns.

The sirens and reckless driving.

One got up front

to address the community

to say that no one sees them as people.

The strangest thing happened

a big grin, spread across his face.

All of the young officers stood up

to introduce themselves.

Most of them looked 21 years old,

they said the days they work

gave out their email addresses.

They seemed human. I just moved to Oakland

it is so different

than the streets of San Francisco,

where the bums and the crackheads

don’t form different types gangs.

They hang out with the poets and musicians

on the corner of 16th and Mission. I left the meeting

haunted by those photographs

how they were passed around

living ghosts

the youth of Oakland

Beat 6X

National Poetry Month

2010-04-06T12:53:00.000-07:00

National Poetry Month has arrived like a racehorse banging through the gates at the Kentucky Derby! This month, I challenge you to write a poem-a-day. Say goodbye to the winter blah blahs and get to it! No more excuses (that’s me talking to myself) short, long, prose, form or formless, start those pens (or typewriters & computers) and GO. Feel free to email me your poems, and I will post some of my favorite poems and other poetry challenges throughout the month.

To start, here is a fantastic poem from Kim Addonizio. It is taken from her new collection, Lucifer at the Starlite, which came out last year from Norton. This poem takes the lines of quite a few famous poems and rewrites them into a new poem. Can you pick out the lines that have rewritten?

Let me know your rants and raves: ingrid_keir@yahoo.com

The First Line is the Deepest

By Kim Addonizio

I have been one acquainted with the spatula,

the slotted, scuffed, Teflon-coated spatula

that lifts a solitary hamburger from pan to plate,

acquainted with the vibrator known as the Pocket Rocket

and the dildo that goes by Tex,

and I have gone out, a drunken bitch,

in order to ruin

what love I was given,

and also I have measured out

my life in little pills—Zoloft,

Restoril, Celexa,

Xanax.

I have. For I am a poet. And it is my job, my duty

to know wherein lies the beauty

of this degraded body,

or maybe

it's the degradation in the beautiful body,

the ugly me

groping back to my desk to piss

on perfection, to lay my kiss

of mortal confusion

upon the mouth of infinite wisdom.

My kiss says razors and pain, my kiss says

America is charged with the madness

of God. Sundays, too,

the soldiers get up early, and put on their fatigues in the blue-

black day. Black milk. Black gold. Texas tea.

Into the valley of Halliburton rides the infantry—

Why does one month have to be the cruelest,

can't they all be equally cruel? I have seen the best

gamers of your generation, joysticking their M1 tanks through

the sewage-filled streets. Whose

world this is I think I know.

Marjorie Wood Gallery

2009-08-10T22:34:00.000-07:00

Poetry by Ingrid Keir

Drawings by Kyle Knobel

August - September 2009

For the exhibit at the online Marjorie Wood Gallery, visual artist Kyle Knobel and poet Ingrid Keir collaborate on a body of work centered around their apartment.

Ingrid says, "since we are married and live together, and this place is the first and last thing we see each day, it seemed a good place to form a show around."

The first image of the show is a watercolor painting of the typewriter belonging to Ingrid's grandfather, also a writer.

From Kyle, "I was interested in the sort of aggregate energy collecting in this little machine, now passed down to another artist in the family. This family continuity is of interest to me, as it is absent in my own."

Ingrid's selection of writing revolves around events that are both incidental and specific to the home. The apartment as studio, as kitchen, as place to spend time, as a place for love and for annoyances, are all explored.

22 Tours of Chi-Town

2009-07-29T18:10:00.000-07:00

Long before the Obamas and Oprah, Chicago had been deemed a cultural hub of the Midwest. I recently discovered that The Poetry Foundation, publisher of the highly esteemed Poetry magazine, has created a wonderful online poetry tour of the Windy City. This twenty-two part series not only combines maps, images and audio, but also has many poets reading their own work and discussing the Chicago poetry scene, past and present. It is thrilling to hear Gwendolyn Brooks read, and surprising to find the voice I have in my head differs drastically to what she actually sounds like when reading her work.

Go ahead, listen to it while you are supposed to be working at that boring office job, or if you are one of the funemployed. A wise artist once said, “If it is fun, it shouldn’t cost anything!” You’ll be happy to know this tour is F-R-E-E!

Floating in the Sea of Possibility

2009-07-16T11:43:00.000-07:00

I have been following this group of artists who have built handmade rafts from recycled materials. Over the past few years, they have made their way down many waterways, including the Hudson, the Mississippi and this year they floated from Slovenia to Venice. I feel inspired by their ingenuity.

These photos and journey remind me that anything is possible! These pics were taken by Tod Seelie, a really fantastic photographer who lives in Brooklyn, NY. Please see his blog for more of his fantastic adventures. He ROCKS!

Hudson

M-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i

Venice

These rafts are the stuff that dreams are made of. Cheers to the dreamers, sailors and artists making it happen.

Feeling a bit bookish

2009-07-13T16:55:00.000-07:00

I have been making homemade accordion books/cards.

These little guys came out of an experiment for Mother’s Day and also a friend’s birthday.

I hope to create a bunch of blank ones to sell at SF zinefest.

Drawing a Tree

2009-06-02T16:02:00.000-07:00

I have been obsessed with painting trees for a few years and I came across this little gem while perusing a collection of art books: Bruno Munari: Drawing A Tree.

This book contains loads of sound advice, drawing exercises and examples of varying types of trees (leafy, sparse, curly, pointy) meant to encourage artists no matter what level. He also has several other books which elaborate on drawing things like the sun, ABCs, animals etc.

Here is my favorite line, which Munari weaves throughout the book,“When drawing a tree, always remember that every branch is more slender than the one that came before.”

Here are a few examples of trees that I’ve painted, enjoy!

RIP Obey Giant of 16th St.

2009-05-29T14:08:00.000-07:00

I have a set of personal landmarks. These are usually places that have special meaning to well, just me. In my college days these things distinctly defined SF as home: DJ bars like The Top, The Distillery in HMB, Club Townsend/King St Garage Wicked parties, The Henry Miller Library, 2am waiting on the side of Highway 1 for some weirdo with a flashlight to take me down to Esalen, XLR8R mag, well, you get the gist…

I’ll get to the point. I am ok with change for the most part -- it is life. But sometimes change makes me pause, even if it is something seemingly small, and that’s just what happened yesterday when I noticed Fairey’s Obey Giant has been painted over. That Andre painting has been there for as long as I can remember, at the old Sports Basement building on the corner of 16^th St and De Haro.

Now it is gone, poof, finito. (Boo. Hiss.) I know it is a tad irrational to mourn the loss of street art. Sorry, can’t help it! It made me happy when I passed by on my bicycle.

Speaking of Fairey, there are a couple of posts you may want to check out if you are a believer in artistic freedom. The first post addresses the Obama Hope poster (you know the one) & the Associated Press who are suing him because he used one of their photos to make the campaign poster. See here. And here.

And, here is another NYT blog post which does not touch the lawsuit topic, but discusses his work overall which found interesting.

RIP Obey Giant of 16^th St.

Visual Poetry

2009-05-21T17:19:00.000-07:00

Hello Friends!

I've decided to start blogging again, so here goes the first post. This past April I was super inspired by the "Free Verse Project" for National Poetry Month by the Academy of American Poets.

See here for more info:

http://poets.org/page.php/prmID/541

I've since been crafting art pieces based on the concept that poetry can be a visual experience. Below are a few concepts I'm developing. I'll continue to post as I develop others.

I love the ocean, pirates & sea glass. The idea of a message in a bottle has always fascinated me since I was a child.

"bottle poem"

I wrote a lot of short poems initially meant to be postcards, but they work as here as short succinct snippets. Hopefully none of the exes will take offense!

"letters to the past"

My grandfather's Underwood. This is the best hand-me-down I've ever gotten. I'll need to dedicate a post to elaborate, but I've been typing up a lot of poems using this beauty. There is something so special and concrete about using a typewriter. Old school. It is nothing short of thrilling. If you send me a word, I'll send you an insta-poem!

old school beauty