We’ve had a few blank days on the guest post front and I do apologise. Stepping up to the plate for our next Poetry Guest Post is Kristin Demoro. You can find more of her work at Princess K. Ann of Isbump – Confession of a Former Fairy Tale Princess.
Hi, I’m Kristin Demoro, otherwise known as Princess K. Ann of Isbump (mainly to my friends and family). I’ve been writing since I can remember, and taking photos about as long as that too. It has taken me a very very long time to take my writing seriously, and not view my poetry as an excuse to not write other more “important” things. Writing (and looking through the camera lens) seems to be my way of processing my world and making sense of my life. I have lost too many people close to me over the years, and I sometimes retreat into my own little world, so writing can help to get me “out there” and connect with other people, as I do suffer from depression and anxiety.
My father was a journalist/writer/historian/photographer, and he not only inspired me to write, but recently with him in mind, I have begun to more seriously pursue my writing career with an eye to future publication. I am almost up to the age he was when he died (53), so I feel I need to get it together and take this writing act a bit more seriously!
It’s hard to put into words what poetry means to me, but, as a poet I believe that poets are the voices of the people. Through words we all know what it is to be human. We experience joy, sadness, wonder, boredom, etc., through words and how the poet puts them together. We find the extraordinary in the ordinary. This and so much more can be found in poetry. We can all understand each other, no matter where in the world we are, if we keep writing, reading, and appreciating poetry. And it can keep you sane. Every time I pick up my pen to write a poem, I feel I am reaching out to whomever may read it and saying “Look at this. This happened. This is real. This is life. Join me in exploring how this affects you and me.”
I am currently working on two ongoing projects, both about San Francisco. I am writing a book length series of poems that are my “memoirs” of my life in that city, and how I am feeling about its constantly changing over the years as I get older. I am also in the beginning stages of writing a non fiction book about being a sixth generation San Franciscan–on dad’s side of the family–and the only one now left there, and my on and off love affair with the city. I also will discuss some of the more eclectic history of the city and my family’s history in San Francisco. So many issues come to mind when I think of how it’s changed and still changing–homelessness, tech money, compassion/lack of compassion, the cycle of gentrification and eviction, lack of city hall support for it’s citizens, and well, I could continue indefinetely on these topics. It’s a good thing I have an editor lined up already!
Ok, enough about all of that. Here are three haiku I wrote awhile back when I was living in the Tenderloin in San Francisco. I originally intended to write a whole lot of these (I call them Tenderloin Haiku) but, as of this writing this is all she wrote. (And, yes, I realize these do not strictly follow traditional haiku meter, but blame it on Jack Kerouac, I was inspired by his haiku at that stage in my writing).
Tenderloin Haiku circa 2003
drunken on the sidewalk
clenched in fist
asleep in the doorway
against the world
shuffling through the laundromat
sheltered from the rain