Amy Glynn's Wreath Wraps Up National Poetry Month (The Tattooed Poets Project)

I am proud and honored to end National Poetry Month 2015 with the amazing work of Amy Glynn.

When we first started discussing tattoos several years ago, Amy was un-inked, and gave me the impression that tattoos were not for her. Not only did she change her opinion, she went big and startlingly beautiful.

For a while, it was doubtful that Amy would contribute, because of the location of her tattoo, and the desire to showcase it only if it was photographed artistically. Finally, this year, the stars aligned, and Amy sent me some wonderful shots of her tattoo in all its glory. Enjoy:

Photo by Vincent Louis Carrella

And a different, closer perspective:

Photo by Vincent Louis Carrella

What makes Amy's ink even more remarkable is how it ties in with her work as a poet. I'll let Amy explain:

"The botanical images in the tattoo reference poems in [my] book 'A Modern Herbal' (Measure Press, 2013). The white-throated swifts reference a poem published in Poetry Northwest in 2009 which will appear in a subsequent publication.

The wreath of interwoven fruits and flowers echo the primary preoccupations of the book – morning glory and salvia divinorum are powerful entheogens; brugmansia is a hallucinogen with a tendency to induce the belief that you can fly. The wine grapes represent alchemy and nod to a lifelong fascination with Sufi imagery. Ginkgo biloba represents tenacity; opium poppies are of course common tropes for oblivion. The pomegranate represents mortality and fertility; the apple, cultivation and waywardness. Sunflowers are an expression of the Golden Mean and represent order and design. Walnuts stand for memory. The white-throated swift is believed to be the fastest animal on earth with air speeds of up to 200mph."

Karen Roze of Sacred Rose Tattoo in Berkeley, California is responsible for the botanical images. Her work appeared yesterday here on another poet. Danny Chong of Black and Blue in San Francisco did the birds.

Amy sent me several poems from the collection and asked me to choose. I selected two that I thought most wonderful:

Opium Poppy

Papaver somniferum

You would’ve loved this moonrise: creepy

orange-on-purple, swollen, cloud-

occluded. It’s October’s last

gasp, litanies of rattling stuff

and the dry rain of bloodied leaves

and air a grassfire’s ghost has haunted

all day. And all of it

echoes so, darling. Quit

hanging around. Yes, I said I wanted

you always with me. But love’s

cruelly shortsighted. No, enough:

bring on the narcolepsy: vast

figureless rivers, a cold, loud,

sedating rush. I’m just so sleepy.

Last season’s stands of double poppies

still stand here, though by now the lavish

silk petals are mere memory. Not

so fragile as they looked, I guess,

and somehow more themselves like this,

as if the blossoms always were

a smokescreen for

a darker, truer, more

essential form, the cynosure,

the censer, the ripe cicatrice 

sleep wells from, black and bottomless.

Go. I’ll be all right when the thought

of you no longer wants to ravish

me with its endless, morphing copies.

~ ~ ~

Apple

Malus domestica

Where do desire and fulfilment meet?

It’s here. The place where one bite makes you need

the next. Sweet. Sweet: desire’s prototype;

sweet meaning perfect, meaning ideal. It’s

a feedback loop, look: lick the sugar from

my lip, see for yourself if it’s satiety

or lust for more. Or both, a branching, each

leaf-tip light-bathed and glaucous, reaching, and

at last at last we taste it, or at least

are so lost in the dream of it we never

detect the molecule of cyanide

at the center of the thing. This is forever.

Bitter unkillable seed. Eternal return

with a twist.

~ ~ ~

Amy Glynn’s poems and essays appear widely in journals and anthologies including The Best American Poetry. She has been a James Merrill House Fellow, a six time alum of the Sewanee Writers’ Conference, and the inaugural recipient of Poetry Northwest’s Carolyn Kizer Award. Most recently her essay “Apples” (northeast quadrant of the tattoo) won Literal Latte’s 2014 Essay Award.

I always thank the poets who have contributed here but, in Amy's case, to do so in a single line doesn't sit well with me.

It has been a journey working with Amy on this submission and, even though I have never met her face-to-face, I feel that I have. We've had many conversations over the years and I am eternally grateful not only for the beauty of her submission (the tattoo and the poems), but for the whole process.

I offer up my profound gratitude to Amy Glynn for her amazing contribution and for her entrusting me with sharing her tattoo and words with all of my readers.

This entry is ©2015 Tattoosday. The poems and tattoo photos are reprinted with the poet's permission.

If you are reading this on another web site other than Tattoosday, without attribution, please note that it has been copied without the author's permission and is in violation of copyright laws. Please feel free to visit http://tattoosday.blogspot.com and read our original content. Please let me know if you saw this elsewhere so I contact the webmaster of the offending site and advise them of this violation in their Terms of Use Agreement.

The Tattooed Poets Project: Susan Sweetland Garay

 Our second tattooed poet today is Susan Sweetland Garay:

Here's a closer look:

Susan elaborates:

"The tattoo I would like to share is one I got recently. It has a Celtic knot modified to symbolize a mother and child. It also has California poppies, a fern, a red clover, a dandelion (the wisher part) and a thistle.

It is all to symbolize motherhood and how becoming a mother has really changed the say I see myself and who I am. The flowers all have meaning too, my mother is from California, and those orange poppies are all over where I live (rural Oregon), the fern is also just a representation of where I am from and where my daughter will grow up. The clover is because the red clover only bloom for a couple of weeks in the spring, and they were in bloom when she was born, I remember focusing on them during the drive to the hospital.  The dandelion is because wishes for me will be different now, since I want things more for her then for myself. The thistle is also a representation of where we live. The spiral is also sort of about the perfection of nature, and how amazing it is what nature (and a woman's body) can do." 

She credits artist Cassidy at Black Rose Tattoo at Solstice Body Arts in Dundee, Oregon, with this crisp and colorful work.

Susan sent us the following poem, which was first published in The Zoomoozophone Review Issue 3 in October 2014.

night breeze

I feel the breeze through
the bedroom window
on a summer night
as I sit with my baby
at my breast,

it’s the end of summer
and finally the coyotes
have returned.

their song comes through
the open window and in the
odd hours of the early morning
they keep me company
in the quiet and the dark.

The cool comes on quickly and
autumn makes herself known
as the warmth of the day
arrives later and later.

Daylight makes lessons learned
in the dark harder to remember.

There is a feeling of relief
and then dismay
when I realize that
I am still myself,
despite the drastic
changes to my
definition.

Stretch marks,
like any other scar,
are a reminder
of where I’ve been
a record on my body
of each destination
and crash.
A mind may forget
but the body remembers.

It is written on my bones
and this body will find a way.

In a time of crisis
I strain to remember
what coyote taught me
about the lighthearted
nature of the universe-
I say it over and over again
in my head, hoping repetition
will make it stick.

Her mouth curves into a wide grin
around my nipple and
again I am in love.

~ ~ ~

Born and raised in Portland Oregon, Susan Sweetland Garay first played among the moss and pines, then the majestic Rocky Mountains, the rolling hills of the Ohio Appalachians and now the lovely vineyards of the Willamette Valley with her husband and daughter. She enjoys writing, growing plants and making art. She has had poetry and photography published in a variety of journals, on line and in print. She was also nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2014.  Her first full length poetry collection, ApproximateTuesday, was published in 2013.  She is a founding editor of The Blue Hour Literary Magazine and Press.  More of her work can be found at susansweetlandgaray.wordpress.com. 

Thanks to Susan for sharing her work with us here on the Tattooed Poets Project on Tattoosday!

This entry is ©2015 Tattoosday. The poem and tattoo are reprinted with the poet's permission.

If you are reading this on another web site other than Tattoosday, without attribution, please note that it has been copied without the author's permission and is in violation of copyright laws. Please feel free to visit http://tattoosday.blogspot.com and read our original content. Please let me know if you saw this elsewhere so I contact the webmaster of the offending site and advise them of this violation in their Terms of Use Agreement. 

Lynsey, With a Wolf in the Garden

I met Lynsey last week outside of  Federal Hall in Lower Manhattan. She shared this interesting tattoo:

Wrapping around her lower leg, this tattoo is credited to Jared Hayes, an artist in Salt Lake City.

Lynsey explained, “We did a collaborative effort on it – it’s original – so, it was based off of a song I have a particular fondness for and we kinda built it off that.”

"What song?" I asked.

"Wolves in the Garden" by The Deadly Syndrome. Here's the song in an unofficial video:

The whole piece took about nine hours to complete.

Thanks to Lynsey for sharing this cool tattoo with us here on Tattoosday!

This entry is ©2014 Tattoosday.

If you are seeing this on another website other than Tattoosday, without attribution, please note that it has been copied without the author's permission and is in violation of copyright laws. Please feel free to visit http://tattoosday.blogspot.com and read our original content. Please let me know if you saw this elsewhere so I contact the webmaster of the offending site and advise them of this violation in their Terms of Use Agreement.

The Tattooed Poets Project: Margaret Bashaar

Today's tattooed poet is Margaret Bashaar, who sent us this stunning photo:

Margaret explains what's on her back:

"The tattoo of a peyote cactus on my upper back was done by Octeel at The Drawing Room in Pittsburgh, PA. Over the past few years I've taken part in a number of medicine ceremonies with a Lakota road woman, and it will probably sound really corny, but they completely changed my life. I'd been battling with severe anxiety and depression for a few years when I attended my first ceremony, and that ceremony was the turning point for me. Since then I've made huge strides with my emotional and spiritual self and credit ceremony for turning the trend I'd been on around. Octeel is a part of the group of people I'd met through ceremony, and it seemed only fitting to ask him to create this tattoo."

About the piece on her lower back, Margaret filled us in:

"The tattoo on my lower back was done almost 11 years ago at a studio in Pittsburgh called Z Spot, which has changed locations and owners since and is now called Alter Ego. I'm about 95% certain the woman who did the tattoo (which I designed) no longer works there. It was more of a 'yay, I'm 18 and can get a tattoo now!' sort of tattoo, but I still love it and am very glad I decided to get that first tattoo." 

Margaret also shared this photo of her thigh:

and she explains:

"This particular tattoo is ... by Terence Kauffman at Kink'd Ink Studio in Windber, PA. It started as a tribute to my poetry press, Hyacinth Girl Press, with the hyacinth at the bottom of the tattoo, and has grown into a whole garden, which will eventually extend up my ribcage. There are two lines of text hidden in the tattoo - in the stem of the hyacinth is the line 'Let us love, since our heart is made for nothing else' which was written by Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, and on one of the leaves are the lines 'yes the pun's/the devil's work, but God made language/let him in' by the poet Niina Pollari. The lines are from a poem in her chapbook, Book Four, which I published in 2011. The flowers in the tattoo (daffodil, hyacinth, tulip, cornflower, lily of the valley, and poppy) are all flowers that my mother grew in her garden when I was growing up, and all the flowers I plan to add are in the same theme."

I am grateful for Margaret sending these photos and, accompanying them is this poem she sent, as well:

These are the small moments when you know you love

When the legs that tremble are not mine,
when I have not spoken in days,
when the last taste on my tongue
is the sour of coffee

the mountain opens its mouth and I step in.

See, these are the tunnels
you must hold your breath through,
these the traffic signals that will always
make you lift your hands from the wheel,
tell you to make another wish.

You are where I go when I think I know myself,
to remind me I never can,
that there is always a new scar
to discover at the back of my thigh,
always a new lust to draw
like a needle down my back.

I am full of torn up stamens,
petals chewed to pulp.

I watch your hands grey as the days pass,
I see your hands in the fire.
They snatch the hummingbird from it.\

I've rolled this sun,
these broken branch tips
into a ball to slip
beneath your mattress.
I will keep you awake at night,
coax out your royalty.

I know you want to be suspended in the air,
full of spells or something like them,
that you see a warm blanket as the first step
toward seduction, and a badly timed joke
as the second.

Maybe we all do the same things to each other -
cut our teeth on one another's scapula,
scrape at each other's signatures with a straight razor.

Swing your legs over the edge with me and you will feel the planet
as it tries to shrug you off,
the whiplash of elliptical orbit.

~ ~ ~

That lovely poem first appeared in Menacing Hedge (click through to hear Margaret reading the above poem, along with two others).

Margaret Bashaar's second chapbook, Letters from Room 27 of the Grand Midway Hotel, was published by Blood Pudding Press in 2011. Her poetry has also appeared in or is forthcoming from journals such as Caketrain, New South, Copper Nickel, Menacing Hedge, and RHINO, among others. She lives in Pittsburgh, PA where she edits Hyacinth Girl Press and collects antique typewriters, which may be haunted by ghosts or demons.

Thanks to Margaret for her contribution to this year's Tattooed Poets Project on Tattoosday!

This entry is ©2013 Tattoosday. The poem and tattoos are reprinted with the poet's permission.

If you are reading this on another web site other than Tattoosday, without attribution, please note that it has been copied without the author's permission and is in violation of copyright laws. Please feel free to visit http://tattoosday.blogspot.com and read our original content. Please let me know if you saw this elsewhere so I contact the webmaster of the offending site and advise them of this violation in their Terms of Use Agreement.