Poetry Anthology On The Sea of Humanity . . . .

Chris Rice Cooper 

caccoop@aol.com

https://www.facebook.com/christalann.ricecooper

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Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke’s Poetry Anthology Let the Sea Find its Edges:

“The Edges of The Human Spirit”

The poetry anthology Let the Sea Find its Edges http://www.lulu.com/

shop/michael-fitzgerald-clarke-and-and-friends/let-the-sea-find-its-edges/paperback/product-21240064.html consists of an anthology of poets focusing on the sea and 101 sonnets by Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke https://www.facebook.com

/michael.fitzgeraldclarke  with cover design by Iona Vorster https://ionavorster.carbonmade.com

The contributors to the anthology are Gaetane Burkolter; Kerry-Anne Cousins; Glenda Ferguson https://www.facebook.com/glenda.ferguson.127?pnref=friends.search;  Steven Jacks; Joan Payne Kincaid; Martha Landman https://www.facebook.com/martha.landman; John McDougall https://www.facebook.com/johnmcdougall?pnref=friends.search; Glenys McIver https://www.facebook.com/glenys.mciver?pnref=friends.search; Christina Murphy https://silverbirchpress.wordpress.com/2015/08/19/author-profile-christina-murphy-contributor-to-the-great-gatsby-anthology/;  Kathleen Romana; Thom the World Poet; Dennis Thomas https://www.facebook.com/dayaway;  Victoria Walker https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100011474834210&pnref=friends.search; Ric Williams https://www.facebook.com/ric.williams?pnref=friends.search; and Dawn DeAnna Wilson http://www.dawndeannawilson.com.  

Christina Murphy in the forward “Prooemium” describes the poetry collection as “a volume of poetry that explores the philosophical, metaphorical, and psychological implications and meanings of the sea.”

Murphy further writes:  “The original core of Let the Sea Find its Edges began as the 101 sonnets Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke wrote in exploration of the sonnet form and also the sea as metaphor.  Upon the completion of the sonnets, Fitzgerald-Clarke invited a number of his poet friends to write poems that also used the sea as a key image.”

As I read this poetry collection I noticed that the majority of the poems do not mention the sea literally or metaphorically.  I asked Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke via an email interview what his definition of the sea is and how all of the poems in this collection apply to his definition of the sea.  His response is italicized in blue below :

“For me, the sea is a symbol, in the broadest, most expansive way.  I see it as, in part, an element (along with fire, earth and air), in part a representation of Carl Jung's (far right) collective unconscious, in part an expression of the universal feminine, and more.  I've heard it said that we know more about the surface of the moon than we do about the bottom of the ocean.

Ocean.  Sea.  They have a similar cadence with me.  The main distinctions I'm latently mindful of are that seas can be landlocked (the Dead Sea, the Caspian Sea, and so on), they can be part of an ocean, but an ocean can't be part of a sea.

The genesis of the book is that I set myself to pen one hundred sonnets in twelve months.  Initially, the sea theme wasn't articulated.  A Canadian friend coined the book's title some way in, from a line in one of the sonnets, and for reasons of her own.  Yes, my sea symbolism has the risk, in this context, of being near-infinitely elastic and losing meaning.  I acknowledge that, and the contrast of yin and yang, each being different yet intrinsic.

So, yes, in practice the poems didn't need to mention the sea.  I trusted in the Unconscious. (right, "More" by Edward Tomek 1971) I believe that poetical meaning is not always known to the poet as they write.  I wish my works to allow as many levels as a reader can find.

I am an admirer of the Surrealists. (left Andre Breton, founder of the Surrealist Movement) The order of the sonnets was determined from a lucky draw by my friend Irina.  Yes, a numbering of 1 to 100 in conventional order was an obvious way to do it, but I believe that in our waking dream, the "randomness" of the book's order is a manifestation of the Unconscious.  The book as published allows the reader to enjoy these synergies, or not.  I myself almost always will read poetry books randomly, not from cover to cover in order. (Below "The Persistence of Memory" by Salvador Dali)

As the book evolved -- I shared the sonnets on e-mail as I penned them -- it seemed a good idea to have some of my literary friendship group contribute their take on it.  At the writing's conclusion (other than the “Prooemium”) it was my call to have the two parts in their published order.  Some of my friends and contributors felt it would be best to have my work first.  I felt that I didn't want my friends' work to be seen as an afterthought.” 

In the prose poem “Let the Sea Find its Edges" (page 5) Gaetane Burkolter describes the sea as being a stranger to herself in a foreign land.

The sun, the air, the water, the food, the people, the very ‘way we do

things round here’ are all so different from what I have known for more

than three decades.  So different from what I imagined, too.  I started to wonder not whether I knew this place, but whether I knew myself.

       In “Boundaries” Glenda Ferguson describes the sea as the moody person trying to seek his or her outermost limit or highest expectations.

So where are the edges of the sea?  Just about anywhere the sea decides

its edges will be, depending on its mood.  I see this as a metaphor for

people, our goals and aspirations and our interactions with each other.

An edge can be considered a boundary – something that defines a space

and time occupied by a person, a mind, a heart.  But are these

boundaries constant?  Are they finite?  I would argue that people are like

the sea, constantly seeking to find their edges.

In the next to the last stanza she gives advice to the individual how they should handle the sea within themselves and within other people.

                   So perhaps we should approach others as we do

the sea – with some expectations based on our past experiences (after

all, the sea is always the sea – it is the edges that change) but realising

that the boundaries we think of as encompassing others may have

changed and we need to keep an open mind and an open heart

Glenys Dawn McIver (August 2, 1949 – November 16, 2015), in her poem “Let The Sea Find Its Edges" (Page 14), describes her dying self as literally the space between the continents that shift erratically.  She is the sea, the space between the continents; and the shifting continents are her boundary – always changing – but always the boundary of death. 

My hospital life is between continental plates which are shifting fearfully,

hit me with jagged edges, but do not submerge me.  There is nothing

labeled “joy”, but I can see some patterns I call acceptance, fear, relief,

terror. They may also be pearls and sea glass. 

       McIver yearns to see the sea but due to her illness she cannot.  Even still the sea is still within the boundaries of her brain where she is able to remember the sea’s waves like sparkling jewels.  She then compares the jewels of the sea to her sick body and the medicine that does not seem to be working properly.

Organs of the body find their new equilibrium.  The nurses call my drug

“Gem” and while meditating I see a golden jewel.

In the last stanza McIver differentiates the sea from the ocean; finds the strength to see the sea through Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke’s 101 Sonnets; and finds the wisdom to see the sea as a peaceful place for her to inhabit, even after death.

I read Michael’s sonnets and try to imagine the whole of the ocean, but

the word “sea” brings me back to a smaller, more gracious expanse.

There are inland seas as well as those of the ocean.  They find their own

edges, as will I.

It is important to note that the moon determines the tides and gravitational effects of the sea, the ocean. (above, attributed to George Grie. FU) In Thom the World Poet’s poem “Let The Sea Find Its Edges" (Page 17) the sea is in the belly of the speaker of the poem and the moon calls this sea into a journey or experience of new self-identification. 

water sloshes in my belly

wishing release.  As soon as free

rushing through earth to sea

Moon calls me.  Eye follow tides

to some waved beach.  Sap and return

Learn movement and form

Time as a measurer of itself alone

Stones later with this brief life’s barometer

eye drink oceans sans salt as soda and as cola

Sugar dissolves.  Slat sweats deserts.  I am this planet.

      

Dennis Thomas’s “Cutting through Time” which could be described as a flash prose poem, is an example of Fitzgerald-Clarke’s definition of the seas as applied to the Unconsciousness of Carl Jung.

In the poem parts of the sea separate from other parts of the sea which results in an earthquake type of experience described as flames, water, celestial activity, vegetation affecting every sense of the human mind until there is death or reincarnation into a perfect nothingness in the form of rosy beads dissolving in the speaker of the poem’s hand.  In the end this perfect nothingness is the new identity of the sea now reincarnated into fireflies shining in the speaker-of-the-poem’s hand over the expanse of the Zodiac or sky or space.  The turbulent fragmented sea is no longer turbulent but calm and full of light in the darkness of the turbulent.  It is almost a paradox – how can a hand of shifting turbulence hold fireflies at peace?  

Crossed stage, flames burning so bright, subjugation in ideals moor

quivers, water, in breathing tides, starts above, muddle, perfect transit,

night cancellation, reborn, in luminous mirror, as tides blow in

vegetation pleasure, odd smell, lush, renewal, nostrils quiver, incense

home, instance smell, night change, recedes, deepens, fragments of

wisdom, old days lost inside slide, rosy beads, dissolving in my hand,

fireflies, flooding, in darkness, in a shifting zodiac.

       The second portion of the book consists of 101 sonnets by Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke.  In “Sonnet 18 for Roby” the speaker of the poem is watching the people he cares for suffer and then helps them heal through spiritual means.

       Then the speaker of the poem walks along the harbor and studies the reflection in its waters.  The reader is not told what the speaker of the poem sees.  Could it be a reflection of himself?  A reflection of the sky?  Or the heavens? Or the people he cares for? All we know is that as he studies these reflections he experiences a spiritual freedom.     

       With this spiritual freedom the speaker of the poem is able to offer spiritual assistance to his fellow man.  It is this spirituality that enables him to open many cages and free his fellow human man. 

       The speaker of the poem then describes himself as a boat that produces its own light – and this light reflects “waters of self” a new identity that includes all who share in this spiritual realm

This poem could have been in the voice of the four fishermen who Jesus called to be His disciples:  Peter and his brother Andrew; and brothers James and John.  (far left, "The Call" by Jorge Orlando Cocco Santangelo)   

Sonnet 18

       for Roby

I listen and I offer.  Sydney is a cornucopia

or a nightmare of chance; your lives are

known to me because your cards were dealt

adversely – as another hand is played, I help

you heal, knowing life will play many more

roiling tricks; for which my gift to you is spiritual

centredness; equanimity.  As I walk in the bright,

sultry evenings, I watch the reflections on the harbor,

and drink in its freedom.  I have opened many cages;

helped nourish many to wholeness, and they all are

with me now, invisible connected companions.

It is only when my head is upon my pillow that

I merge beyond human connection:  I am a boat,

I am many lights shining up the waters of self.

       In “Sonnet 20” the speaker of the poem prays for those who cross his path, mostly strangers he sees in a mall; and he asks God if he can meet the people he prays for in Heaven.  This prayer makes all of us a part of this great ocean and its unlimited boundaries; and it makes us realize that in the poetry world and the spiritual world there are no strangers.

Breath.  Love.  Breath.  Love.  Dear God of many strange,

wondrous things, thankyou for each stranger

on our multifarious, Earth,

Feature on "UNCONDITIONAL: A Guide to Loving and Supporting Your LGBTQ Child"

Chris Rice Cooper 

caccoop@aol.com

https://www.facebook.com/christalann.ricecooper

*Italicized quotes highlighted in brown are from Telaina Eriksen’s website (http://www.telaina.com)

*Highlight in blue are excerpts from Telaina Eriksen’s book UNCONDITIONAL:  A Guide to Loving and Supporting Your LGBTQ Child

Telaina Eriksen:

UNCONDITIONAL A Guide to Loving and Supporting Your LGBTQ Child

From A Mother’s Heart 

      

On April 18, 2017 Mango Publishing Group (https://mango.bz) published UNCONDITIONAL A Guide To Loving and Supporting Your LGBTQ Child by Telaina Eriksen (http://www.telaina.com); and Forward by Dr. Mimi Hoang Ph.D. (https://www.face

book.com/drmimilhoang).

       Telaina Eriksen and her husband lived the typical family idyllic life in Michigan  –a Catholic family who had their two children attend Catholic schools, attend Catholic mass one to two times a week, and dreamed of having their children Casandra and Matthew have Catholic weddings.  But that dreamed ended in 2009 when their daughter Casandra at the age of 12 told them she thought she was gay.

"In seventh grade, my now 20-year-old daughter came to my husband and I and said that she, “might like girls.” Unlike made-for-television movies, I hadn’t known or secretly suspected that she was gay. Even though I have many family and friends who are gay, including my sister who identifies as lesbian and my niece who identifies as bisexual, I still was taken by surprise and had immediate concerns and questions about parenting a child who was “different.”

       That was the moment that Eriksen began to mourn the death of the dream she had for her daughter; but two things Eriksen never mourned were the lessening of the love she had for her daughter and the lessening of her expression of that love for her daughter.

I knew that sending a message of un-

conditional love to my daughter was even more important than that particular (and unfortunately deeply homophobic) way of expressing my religious faith.

      And part of sending that message was to live a life of learning how to continue to love and accept her daughter even amongst a world of homophobia.  Soon this project of sending a message turned into her book Unconditional A Guide to Loving and Supporting Your LGBTQ Child. 

“This book is a combination of our story, other parents’ stories and research as well as anecdotal evidence showing the strong need for familial support for LGBTQ children to be successful and emotionally healthy in our still very biased world."

Unconditional A Guide to Loving and Supporting Your LGBTQ Child includes LGBQT history; a Dos and Don’ts at the end of each chapter; personal testimonials from people who identify has LFBQT and from parents of LGBTQ; resources; the medical scientific data on LGBTQ; and how to fight against the bullying and ostracizing of your LGBTQ child.  

Most bullying happens out of teachers’ sight, in hallways, cafeterias or on school buses, where teachers are outnumbered.  Sometimes teachers don’t recognize the indications of bullying.  Take the example of the girls at Casandra’s Catholic school who would exclude her at the lunch table.  The teachers probably didn’t notice.  A whisper of, “you’re fat, you smell, you’re a faggot, you’re weird, go die” probably won’t be heard in the noise of the hall even with the most vigilant teacher listening.

    

   But there are almost always witnesses to bullying-other students (and yes, sometimes even teachers) who watch and do nothing.  These onlookers are one of the keys to preventing bullying.  Another student simply going to stand next to the victim has been shown to be effective in diffusing aggression and abuse.  The key is to teach the silent majority what to do or say to help victims.  Bullying experts say there are three ways that bystanders can help stop the aggression.

1)       Direct intervention.  A bystander tells the bully to

Stop.

2)       A bystander takes the victim out of the situation

and invites the student being bullied to come and walk or sit with them.

3)       Showing verbal support after the incident, offering

a smile a brief talk, or hug.

Eriksen also gives advise to those parents who adhere to a religion or faith that teaches living the LGBTQ identity is a sin.

 

If you’ve been raised in a strict Christian household and you believe every word of the Bible is word-for-word straight from God’s mouth, I’m asking you to think about if it is your job to judge your child.  Can you just love your kid and let your child be responsible for their own faith and beliefs?  They already know what you feel and believe.  Trust in that.

       

But more importantly parents of LGBTQ, individuals who identify as LGBTQ, and readers can trust the testimonials in UNCONDTIONAL: A Guide to Loving and Supporting Your LGBTQ Child.

Tara Morse (my sister), Colorado

https://www.face

book.com/

tara.morse.14

I was scared of my mother.  My coming out was textbook how to do everything wrong.  My mother, mentally ill and abusive, took it as an affirmation that she had in fact given birth to a distasteful monster, and she threated to kill me and my girlfriend.  She would appear at my softball games going to great lengths to say shitty stuff.  “Your hair is so short I don’t want to look at you.”  But sitting with rational people in the stands, they would think she was a caring parenting parent, cheering her manly daughter on.  She liked the idea of people applauding my great plays, and then after the game would say, “gay slut” under her breath.  A lot of it was what would people think of HER, that she gave birth to a freak?  Parents’ biggest mistake is making it about them, their own shit and beliefs, and not really hearing or acknowledging the huge step their child has taken.  There’s a moment there you can never get back.  That moment is when acceptance and love is everything.  Some parents can pull it off and some parents cannot.  When coming out, some of the consequences could include being put out and disowned and even threatened with death (as I was).  One of the pitchers on our softball team, only a sophomore in college drove her Tercel into an oak tree after trying to come out to her parents, who were ministers.

       I never really had to tell most people I was gay.  It’s obvious by my appearance.  With no hips, large muscles, and short hair, an immediate (and correct) assumption is made.  But never did I feel like I was a guy trapped in a woman’s body.  I’ve always been happy being a lesbian.  Now that I’m older, I realized that my “different” manly body has served me well despite having taken a beating.

       It was hard back in the 80s, living rurally, to find books and information.  Thankfully there was a small bookstore in Ann Arbor; tucked away in the back behind every new age book on crystals was a shelf with sex manuals and Rita Mae Brown novels, Holly Near albums and the comedy albums of Lea Delaria (sorry Orange is the New Black fans, she’s been around forever).   

       Being okay with it personally and being free as a person is what coming out is about.  Families can leave huge scars and do irreparable damage.  Hopefully your family grows along with you.  Your family accepting you goes a long way in your accepting yourself.

Michael Whelan, Colorado

I don’t really have a “coming out to my parents” story, because I was never really “in.”  In kindergarten I joined the girls in chasing the boy I had a crush on, on the playground.  I played with Barbies.  I wanted to have long  hair.  My non-binary gender identity didn’t leave much room for speculation, nor did the fact that I didn’t try to hide it.  I still didn’t understand that there was something
“wrong” with me.

       From ages eight to fifteen my mother took me to see over a dozen therapists.  But they always turned us away when they realized she just wanted them to change me.

       My parents made everything into an opportunity to change me.  They took away my dolls so I started to hide them like the forbidden contraband they were.  They buzzed my head, wouldn’t allow me to have hair longer than an inch until I was in my late teens. They always tried to pressure me into liking girls.

       “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

       “I saw the way you were looking at her you should go ask her out.”  I was nine.

       They wouldn’t let me have friends who were boys over, just girls.  It became clear to me by the time I was fourteen that they were hoping for something to happen – like it would change me.

       I think a lot of parents would be horrified if their 14-year-old son got a girl pregnant, but not mine.  They would have been relieved – like it was the goal the whole time.

       My mother went to a PFLAG meeting one time, but she never told me.  I guess he was scared I would have thought she finally approved.  I found out later and it was whispered to me by someone else, like a dirty secret.

       My dad didn’t fully come around until I was in my thirties.  My mom never will.  Which is weird to me, because they knew who I was since I was a toddler.  I never had to come out, because I was obvious and oblivious to it being something to be ashamed of.  I’m grateful I never though of being gay as something “wrong” because my parents would have only been too happy to set me “right.”

       When I was thirty years old my dad came out to visit me and my husband.  It was the first time he had visited me – ever.  He wanted to apologize and he did. I had already forgiven him years ago, for me, not for him.  And now it was for him.  He told me he didn’t know how to handle “my problems.”

       I’m not a parent though I hope to be one day, but it isn’t this parenting in a nutshell?  Not having a clue.  I think as long as you love and accept and try – you’re good.  But my dad back then he didn’t even try.  People would say things like “Your mom/dad is doing the best she/he can,” but that isn’t accurate.  Doing the best you can requires effort. 

Charlie Bondhus, New Jersey

https://www.

charlie

bondhus.com

       It took me until my sophomore year of college to finally admit I was not straight, not bi, but gay.  I was watching Edge of Seventeen, a cheesy coming-of-age flick set in the mid-‘80s where a twink sings along to “Hey Mickey You’re So Fine” and still manages to shock everyone when he comes out as gay.  About 30 minutes in, the “Hey Mickey” twink goes to a hotel with one of his coworkers and the two share a hot, shirtless kiss before the scene fades to white. That kiss was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.  The moment I realized that, it was – “Whaoa. I’m gay.”  No doubt.

       I managed to keep it from my parents for a while, but from time to time they hinted that they knew.  The kitschiest moment was when I was getting ready to meet a guy I was secretly dating and nonchalantly said, “I’m going to see Adam” and my Mom said sadly, “I just wish it was Eve.”  All that skirting and veiling ended junior year of college, when Mom found in my room a business card for an LGBTQ youth center.  There were more traumatic/humorous attempts to straighten me out, including a trip to a priest and my mother pointedly commenting on every attractive woman we passed.  (She gave that up when I lisped, “Oh yes; she’s SOOOO statuesque!”)

       It took them the rest of my college years, but they finally came around.  In their way.  Dad shocked me by telling me that he’d respect any boyfriend/husband I ever had as a son-in-law.  Mom scandalized some of the women at church by saying she felt there was “nothing wrong” with gay men becoming priests.  My (now ex) husband came to all our family gatherings and was treated well; ditto for my current partner.  And even at the worst moments, I never had to worry about being disowned.  It was hard, but I know I had it easier than some queer kids.

       But here’s the thing; on the one hand, I respect my parents’ working through their limitations to reach a place of decency.  But that’s just it.  It’s decency. They don’t deserve medals for learning to treat me and the person I love with the same outward respect that they treat my brother and his wife with.  However, holding onto my resentment is far more damaging to me than it is to them, so I try not to do either.

       Writing as an almost 35-year-old, I think my parents and I have come to recognize that our lives and values are quite different, and it helps to keep the peace if we pretend that we fully respect each other.  There is, for a variety of reasons, a considerable gulf between us – three days visiting with my parents is my max – and it’s hard for me to look at their, in my opinion, very limited lives without feeling critical.  Likewise, things they’ve said and the general vibe they give off tells me that they don’t “get” my life and, as a result, find it suspect.  I don’t doubt they would turn me straight in a heartbeat if they found that proverbial magic wand.  But again, that’s more a function of their limitations than it is outright selfishness; they likely genuinely think that my life would be better if I was more like them.

       My current therapist tells me that one of the best markers of mental health is not letting your parents’ anxieties become your own.  It’s also important to individuate from your family. I’ve made a lot of progress in both areas, and even though my parents can’t exactly get behind my life, I can be thankful they at least no longer try to stand in my way.