Your Poem/My Poem Volume i
Your Poem… My Poem (Volume I)
Heather Kays, Megan Kemple, & Sylvie Griel
Sylvie Griel
I recently procured a copy of Sylvie Greil’s Take Fountain as part of an Instagram giveaway. What a delight! I am not a big L.A. girlie myself, though I spent some time there in my 20s. What I do understand and connect with is poetry rooted in place and particularly cities. In my new series, I find one of my pieces that I feel matches the tone of your poem or write something completely new after your piece.
Sylvie - you are my first Your Poem…My Poem pick and I chose your piece “Neighbors” from your book Take Fountain and my piece “Getting to Know the New Neighbors” from my debut book Record Player Life (the b-side) with The Poetry Lighthouse.
“Neighbors” by Sylvie Griel
Getting to Know the New Neighbors by Rachel Turney
I liked it better when my neighbors were strangers.
When I didn’t know their names were Michelle and Greg.
I had named them Claudia and Edward. That’s much more romantic.
She was a writer, like me, and he was a traveling salesman,
giving her time alone in their big, corner house
to scribble poems and pursue ceramic making.
I learned today that she is a dentist and he works in tech.
Disappointing.
They aren’t from Vermont, California, or Toronto;
just from Houston.
Houston?
Sad.
They met in college.
Boring.
Their dog is named Brian.
At least that’s funny,
I guess.
***
Heather Kays (Crying Heart Press)
From Heather Kays book Myths in the Feed, a collection of short poems on pain and persistence, I chose to share “Fermentation.”
I also write about fermentation, which is something I think women especially understand due to our unique connection with time. What stuck with me though from this poem was the word grief and I paired this with my piece on that topic, recently published in Verse-Virtual, “The Summer of 2026.”
“Fermentation” by Heather Kays
The Summer of 2026 by Rachel Turney
The moon is looking for me; I can tell.
I think about how to forgive this year, 2026, for all of its wrong turns.
The demands of December sag my fragile shoulders.
My shallow breaths are a prayer song that you won’t leave me
as we exhale out this season.
I have finally thawed and removed the plastic covering from my life.
To what end - to crystallize under the solstice sky?
***
Megan Kemple (Arcana Poetry Press)
I enjoyed Megan Kemple’s A Heretic Without a Home, which to me read as sort of poetry meets essay. I pulled a small portion from her piece “Dandelions.” I paired this with my piece inspired by wildflowers and the feeling of abandonment and loss which appeared in The Orchard Poetry Journal this summer, “Wildflowers.”
Excerpt from “Dandelions” by Megan Kemple
Wildflowers by Rachel Turney
Yarrow sway in the field,
a wedding symphony
of chenille and lace.
Thistle flower reaches for the
receding evening sun.
Take me with you into the night.
Alpine sunflower the purest yellow
buttermilk and daisies.
Dancing violet columbine
reminds me that stars are
sometimes alive. That has
to be true or they wouldn’t
burn out and die.
The nodding onion bobs in the wind
perpetually agreeing.
I think I’ll ask them if they love me.
***
To all readers: I hope you enjoy this idea of poets writing about the same topic through our own unique lens! I am looking forward to sharing more in this series in the coming months.
If you would like to be featured contact me. I am open to most “in kind” requests.
