Yawn Arbuckle
Yawn Arbuckle

Yawn Arbuckle, an esteemed individual hailing from the enchanting landscapes of Arizona, has dedicated their entire life to the pursuit of poetic excellence. From the sun-drenched deserts to the majestic mountains, Yawn's deep connection with Arizona has shaped their artistic journey. Born and raised in the vibrant city of Phoenix, they found solace and inspiration in the breathtaking beauty of the state. Yawn's passion for poetry blossomed at a young age, as they immersed themselves in the rich literary heritage of Arizona. They delved into the works of renowned poets who found solace in the vastness of the desert and translated their experiences into mesmerizing verses. With an insatiable thirst for knowledge, Yawn embarked on an academic journey dedicated to the study of poetry. Attending the prestigious University of Arizona, Yawn honed their poetic craft under the guidance of esteemed professors and immersed themselves in the vibrant literary community of the state. They explored the depths of poetic expression, intertwining the unique essence of Arizona with their own introspective musings. Throughout their academic tenure, Yawn delved into the works of Arizona's literary giants, drawing inspiration from the evocative landscapes and diverse cultural tapestry. Their studies encompassed everything from the poignant verses of Alberto Ríos, capturing the spirit of the Southwest, to the transcendent imagery of poets who found solace in the vastness of the Grand Canyon. Yawn's dedication to their craft led them to participate in numerous poetry workshops and gatherings, where they shared their own creations and engaged in profound discussions with fellow poets. Their unwavering commitment to poetry culminated in the publication of a remarkable anthology that beautifully encapsulated the essence of Arizona's poetic soul. Now, as the esteemed admin of this website, Yawn Arbuckle continues to be a guiding light for poetry enthusiasts, fostering a community where words come alive and imaginations soar. With their vast knowledge and profound understanding of Arizona's poetic legacy, Yawn strives to inspire others to embrace the transformative power of language and embark on their own poetic odysseys. Through their tireless efforts, Yawn Arbuckle remains an unwavering advocate for the poetic arts, breathing life into the pages of this website and inviting poetry lovers from all walks of life to embark on a journey of self-expression and creative exploration.
Birdwatcher poem by aaron hopkins-johnson

“Birdwatcher” by Aaron Hopkins-Johnson

I’m a bird.
One day, the thru-hiker came by
and tried guessing my name.

She got it wrong.

But birdbrains know how to spot beauty over faults.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t
want to shit on a person.
Trembled perch, my bird’s eye view
made my warm blood migrate south.

I coo’d smalltalk the way birdwatchers in bars do
‘Tattoo! Tattoo!’
I don’t know if she ever understood my birdsong

She spoke about feminism, marketing, and interior design.
I sang to her poems, collected
her hair to make my nest more comfortable,
apologized that there was no room
for her in this tree, watched
our incompatibility hatch, like itineraries
and love notes tucked into the spine of a field guide.

You never climbed up here, Birdwatcher.

I left for a year
and came back.
She returned too
with a two-person tent,
slept under my nest,
I watched her tent rattle
with my head tucked under wing
coughed ‘nevermore!’
until sunrise

Two pairs of boots chilled in the wind.
I stretched my tongue out
and whistled a Lynard Skynard ditty
to this Floridian in all keys.
Struggled to be
beautiful, Darwin. Evolved
in minutes as she looked at
me, unfamiliar. All love lost
in her eyes, through binoculars
all my imperfections in
her year’s worth of paper experience.
I am looking at her through shrinking
tunnels, her eyes too small to see
what I take with me when I fly away.

Dimples, glimmering eyes, wet lips, soprano.

About the poem “Birdwatcher” by Aaron Hopkins-Johnson

Summary

The poem begins in the first person: the speaker declares “I’m a bird.” We are drawn into a surreal scene in which a thru-hiker passes by and guesses the bird’s name — and guesses it wrong. The bird knows that birdbrains “know how to spot beauty over faults.” The speaker (bird) reflects that for the first time in its life it didn’t want to “shit on a person.” The perch is trembling; the bird‐eye view makes “warm blood migrate south.”

Next, the speaker imitates small‐talk with the human (“tattoo! tattoo!”) and wonders if she understood the bird‐song. She, the hiker, speaks of “feminism, marketing, and interior design,” while the bird “collected her hair to make my nest more comfortable,” apologized there was no room for her “in this tree,” and watched their incompatibility “hatch.”

The human returned later with a two-person tent and slept under the nest. The bird watched the tent rattle, tucked its head under a wing, coughed “nevermore!” until sunrise. Two pairs of boots in the wind; the speaker stretched out its tongue and whistled a Lynyrd Skynyrd ditty. The bird struggles to be “beautiful, Darwin. Evolved in minutes as she looked at me, unfamiliar.” All love lost in her eyes, through binoculars, all the bird’s imperfections seen. The poem ends with the bird looking at her through shrinking tunnels, her eyes too small to see what it takes with it when it flies away. Dimples, glimmering eyes, wet lips, soprano.

In short: the poem uses the metaphor of bird-watching (and the bird as speaker) to explore a human encounter, mis‐encounter, attraction, difference, and withdrawal.

Analysis

Voice & Perspective

By giving the bird itself a voice (“I’m a bird”), Hopkins-Johnson creates a playful yet disorienting vantage point. The bird is both subject and observer: it watches the human (“Birdwatcher”) while the human may be watching the bird. This role-reversal creates tension: who is observing whom? The use of the first-person bird-voice invites us to inhabit a non-human gaze and thereby reflect on human interaction from another angle.

Themes of Beauty, Fault & Otherness

The lyric opens with the bird observing that birdbrains know how to spot “beauty over faults.” This phrase establishes an aesthetic of imperfect being, of seeing value despite—or because of—imperfection. The speaker admits that for the first time it didn’t want to “shit on a person” (raw, humorous, subversive). The bird’s warm blood migrating south, the trembled perch: these are indications of emotion, vulnerability, risk of exposure.

When the human arrives with her social talk of feminism, marketing, interior design, we sense the bird’s alienation. The bird collects hair to make its nest comfortable, but apologizes there’s no room for her “in this tree.” That metaphor suggests a home, a world, a belonging which is not shared. Their incompatibility “hatch[es]” like “itineraries and love notes tucked into the spine of a field guide.” The field guide evokes bird‐watching, classification, containment; the bird is in the wild, the human with her tent and boots is a visitor.

Nature, Culture & Migration

The bird migrates south (warm blood migrating south) — the language of biology, instinct. Meanwhile the human brings culture (feminism, interior design) and constructs a tent beneath the bird’s nest. The tent beneath the tree speaks of human intrusion into nature’s domain, yet also human attempt to share or join. The bird whistling a Lynyrd Skynyrd ditty further complicates the boundary: the bird takes on human musical culture, stretching its tongue, trying to adapt (“Struggled to be / beautiful, Darwin. Evolved in minutes”).

This phrase “beautiful, Darwin” is interesting: Darwin evokes evolution, adaptation, survival of the fittest. The bird tries to evolve in minutes as the human looks at him “unfamiliar.” The bird’s imperfections are catalogued through binoculars (the human’s tool of observation). The bird looks back through shrinking tunnels; her eyes too small to see what the bird takes with it when it flies away. The message: the human gaze is limited; the bird carries away an experience, perhaps a knowing, that the human cannot perceive.

Love, Loss & Departure

Though there is attraction, there’s also misalignment. The human’s presence, the return, the tent, the boots — all of these mark an attempt at closeness. But the bird’s voice ends with departure: it flies away, the human doesn’t climb up to its vantage point (“You never climbed up here, Birdwatcher.”). The final loss: “All love lost / in her eyes,” “through binoculars / all my imperfections in / her year’s worth of paper experience.” The bird leaves with something unrecognized, the human stays in her lens, her cataloguing of faults. The bird’s freedom, its flight, its unseen glimmer remain beyond her view.

Form & Tone

The tone of the poem mixes whimsy, surrealism, self-deprecation, mockery, vulnerability. The bird voice allows a mixture of humor (“tattoo! tattoo!”, “shit on a person”) and tenderness. The structure is free verse, conversational, with enjambments that propel the sense of movement (flight, migration, watching, leaving). The lack of strict formal constraint mirrors the bird’s freedom and the unexpected twist of human-bird encounter.

Symbolism & Irony

  • The bird: a vantage of freedom, outsider perspective, instinct, nature.
  • The human (Birdwatcher): observer, outsider in the bird’s world, trying to interpret and perhaps possess or classify.
  • The nest / tree: home, belonging, a world not easily shared.
  • The tent / boots: human intrusion, attempt to inhabit the bird’s space but only partly.
  • Binoculars / field guide: tools of observation, classification, but limit what can be seen.
  • Migration / fly away: movement, separation, resolve.
  • “Beautiful, Darwin”: irony—evolution as adaptation, but here adaptation in minutes? The bird changing for human gaze and yet still unseen.

Significance for Arizona / Regional Context

Given Aaron Hopkins-Johnson’s connection to Phoenix, AZ and the Southwest poetry community, this poem may also reflect themes of wildness vs. human settlement, migration, observer vs. observed – all very relevant to desert landscapes, bird migration paths, hikers and thru-hikers in wild zones. The imagery of boots, tents, migration south evokes long trails, wilderness recreation, human encounter with nature.

Aaron Hopkins-Johnson is a writer in Phoenix, AZ. A long-time slam poetry competitor, a teaching artist, and the owner of Lawn Gnome Publishing, he is currently a single father and a copywriter. Discover more Arizona poets HERE.

B-jam ben gardea arizona slam poetry azpoetry. Com

B-Jam (Ben Gardea)

Arizona Slam Poet, Performer, and Community Builder

Ben Gardea, known throughout the Southwest poetry scene as B-Jam, is a nationally recognized slam poet, performer, and workshop leader based in Phoenix, Arizona. A driving force in the Arizona spoken word community, Gardea blends personal vulnerability, rhythmic delivery, and social awareness into performances that resonate across audiences and generations.

B-Jam’s journey to poetry began not in a classroom, but through recovery, resilience, and self-reinvention. After facing a life-altering struggle with avascular necrosis and undergoing multiple hip replacements, Gardea found his voice in the rhythms of spoken word at venues like Lawn Gnome Publishing and The Lost Leaf— using poetry as both healing and rebellion. His work stands as an invitation for others to speak their truths aloud, transforming pain into presence and survival into art.

As Arizona State Champion of the Arizona State Poetry Society (ASPS) and a Top 10 nationally ranked slam poet at the National Poetry Slam hosted by New Mexico’s Blackberry Peach, B-Jam’s performances are known for their precision, musical cadence, and emotional intensity. His work combines the personal and the political, the raw and the redemptive — embodying the ethos of a poet who lives what he writes.

Poetic Style & Themes

B-Jam’s poetry thrives in the space between rhythm and revelation. His performances draw from the oral tradition of hip-hop and slam poetry, carrying the same pulse as a drumbeat or heartbeat — honest, urgent, and unapologetically human.

Themes of recovery, faith, fatherhood, disability, and identity appear throughout his work. Rather than offering polished conclusions, his poems stay in motion, revealing the daily process of becoming. Whether he’s unpacking the weight of survival, the ache of transformation, or the joy of community, B-Jam writes with a voice that feels lived-in, deeply empathetic, and grounded in Arizona’s desert landscapes.

He has said that poetry, for him, is “not a performance but a conversation with every version of myself that made it here.” That intimacy defines his work — connecting audiences not just to his story, but to their own.

Community Work & Performance

Beyond the stage, B-Jam is one of Arizona’s most active poetry organizers and mentors. He serves as the Spoken Word and Slam Coordinator for the Arizona State Poetry Society, where he helps bridge page and stage, guiding poets toward both competitive and collaborative spaces.

He also hosts the monthly Phoenix Poetry Slam, held at The Lost Leaf and Heritage HQ, two long-running hubs for Arizona’s creative community. Under his leadership, the Phoenix Slam has become a cornerstone of the Arizona spoken word scene, offering open mics, featured readings, and safe spaces for emerging artists to test and share new work.

B-Jam’s commitment to community extends statewide — he regularly travels to Prescott, Tucson, and Flagstaff to perform, judge, and host workshops, helping build a connected network of poets throughout the state. His mentorship of younger performers and first-time poets has helped dozens find confidence in their own voices, creating ripple effects that continue to strengthen Arizona’s literary landscape.

Recognition & Awards

In addition to his Arizona State Championship, B-Jam has represented the state on national stages, including the BlackBerry Peach National Poetry Slam and other regional showcases. His performance work has been featured on stages and digital platforms alike, recognized for its authenticity, musical timing, and emotional range.

Media outlets and organizations including the Arizona State Poetry Society, Prescott Poetry Series, and Fountain Hills Times have highlighted Gardea’s contributions as a performer, teacher, and advocate for accessible art.

Workshops & Mentorship

As a teaching artist, B-Jam leads “Page to Stage: The Journey,” a workshop designed to help writers transform written poems into performance-ready pieces. The series walks poets through the entire process — from crafting honest drafts to finding breath, tone, and rhythm onstage. His workshops often blend elements of mindfulness, movement, and performance technique, helping participants not only strengthen their craft but also deepen their relationship with their voice.

Students consistently describe his mentorship as empowering and deeply human — a space where laughter, tears, and growth share the same breath.

Legacy & Influence in Arizona Poetry

In an era where poetry often lives fleetingly online, B-Jam’s work reclaims poetry as a living act — a gathering, a pulse, a community. His influence in Arizona’s spoken word revival is felt not only in his own performances but in the countless poets he’s coached, encouraged, and celebrated.

Through his leadership with the Arizona State Poetry Society, his hosting of live slams, and his teaching practice, Ben Gardea continues to elevate the art form throughout the Southwest. His poetry reminds audiences that voice is a form of survival and that every poem spoken aloud plants a seed for someone else’s courage.

Today, whether onstage in downtown Phoenix or leading a workshop in a small Arizona town, B-Jam stands as one of the state’s most powerful examples of poetry in motion — living proof that storytelling, when rooted in truth, can heal and transform both the writer and the world around them.

Posted in Poets  • 
Tc tolbert tucson poetry azpoetry. Com

TC Tolbert

TC Tolbert – Tucson Poet Laureate (2017 – 2023)

TC Tolbert serves as a vibrant and transformative voice in contemporary American poetry. Appointed as the Poet Laureate of Tucson in 2017, Tolbert guided the city’s literary engagement through 2023, shaping a poetic culture rooted in inclusion, empathy, and the desert’s quiet resilience. Tolbert’s years as laureate left a deep imprint on Arizona’s poetry community, from public readings in city parks to collaborations that brought poetry into schools, libraries, and neighborhood centers across Tucson.

About

Tolbert identifies as trans and genderqueer and often describes themself as a feminist, collaborator, dancer, poet — and simply “a human in love with humans doing human things.” Their artistic life embodies that statement. Holding an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Arizona, Tolbert chose Tucson as both a personal refuge and a creative laboratory, drawn to its open skies, Sonoran landscape, and thriving community of artists.

Living in the desert, Tolbert has cultivated a poetic practice that moves fluidly between body and language. They frequently connect the motion of dance with the movement of words, treating poetry as choreography — a conversation between text, rhythm, and breath. This holistic approach to craft mirrors Tucson’s own cultural terrain, where art, activism, and environment often meet.

Literary Work & Contribution

Tolbert is the author of the full-length poetry collection Gephyromania (Ahsahta Press, 2014; reissued by Nightboat Books), a book that explores the idea of “bridge-building” — between genders, languages, and modes of becoming. The title, from the Greek gephyra meaning “bridge,” captures Tolbert’s ongoing fascination with transformation and the spaces between fixed identities.

They have also published several chapbooks, including Turning to Hear the Last Leaves of Stargazer Fall, I: Not He: Not I, and territories of folding. Each of these smaller works demonstrates Tolbert’s gift for merging lyrical precision with emotional experimentation.

As co-editor (with Trace Peterson) of Troubling the Line: Trans and Genderqueer Poetry and Poetics (Nightboat Books, 2013), Tolbert helped create one of the most influential anthologies of its kind. The volume gathers more than 50 writers and has become a cornerstone text in queer literary studies, used in classrooms nationwide. The project exemplifies Tolbert’s lifelong commitment to community-building through art.

Tolbert’s poems have appeared in leading journals and anthologies, including Prairie Schooner, Verse Daily, and Diagram. Their voice resonates for its honesty, courage, and linguistic grace — a blend of vulnerability and precision that continues to influence younger Arizona poets.

Advocacy, Community & Impact

During their six-year tenure as Tucson’s Poet Laureate, Tolbert expanded what civic poetry can do. In 2019, they were awarded an Academy of American Poets Laureate Fellowship for their community projects connecting trans, non-binary, and queer residents through writing workshops and public readings.

Tolbert’s outreach programs emphasized poetry as both healing and social practice — a way for marginalized voices to see themselves represented and to find solidarity in language. They’ve led free writing circles, poetry walks, and cross-disciplinary performances blending movement, music, and verse. Many of these initiatives remain active today, facilitated by the poets Tolbert mentored.

In interviews, Tolbert has spoken of poetry as “a practice of attention and tenderness,” a way to “stay awake to our shared humanity.” This ethic has guided not only their public service but also their teaching at the University of Arizona and in workshops across the Southwest.

Why Tolbert Matters for Arizona Poetry

Voice & Visibility: As one of the first openly trans or genderqueer city poet laureates in the United States, TC Tolbert redefined what literary leadership can look like. Their visibility in Tucson’s cultural landscape continues to inspire inclusivity and representation in the arts.

Intersectional Practice: Tolbert’s poetry brings together identity, ecology, and activism. Their work captures both the physical beauty of the Sonoran Desert and the psychological landscapes of transition, belonging, and human connection — a union of place and self that feels uniquely Arizonan.

Bridge-Builder: True to the meaning of Gephyromania, Tolbert builds bridges — between people, disciplines, and communities. They bring poetry out of academic spaces and into everyday life, transforming classrooms, coffee shops, and public plazas into shared arenas of expression.

For Readers of AZPoetry.com

Tolbert invites readers to consider language as terrain — a landscape where identity, geography, and desire converge. Their work embodies the emotional texture of Tucson: sun-bleached, spacious, and full of quiet defiance.

For lovers of poetry, Tolbert offers a model of art as community practice. Their writing urges us to embrace ambiguity, nurture compassion, and recognize the bridges that connect us — not only across difference, but within ourselves. With deep respect for the desert and for those who inhabit it, TC Tolbert continues to expand the boundaries of Arizona poetry, shaping a more inclusive and resonant literary future.

Posted in Poets  • 
Alas poor yorick poem by the klute featuring hyperrealistic jester at ren fair | azpoetry. Com

‘Alas Poor Yorick’ by The Klute

Alas, Poor Yorick

I regard the sad little man
As I stand in line at Ye Olde Churro Hut
With equal measures of pity and hatred
He wears a tri-cornered, tri-colored hat that is by design
Three sizes too large for his head
Upon each corner rests a single bell that jingles
With each act of prehistoric vaudeville that he performs
Mistaking the expression on my face as an invitation
He’s coming my way
Little does he know, I hate jesters
I hate them with the white-hot intensity of an Inquisitor’s branding iron
Jesters provoke within me a desire to transcend the Renaissance
And go back to the Stone Age
Where it would be perfectly acceptable to take a large rock
And smash his proto-mime skull in
But this is the modern era
While I’m certain that no jury in America
Would convict me for killing a jester
I stay my hand
Because this is not his fault
He doesn’t want to be a jester
No one does.
No one wants to don a pair of tights,
Paint their faces in the tradition of Emmett Kelly
And prance about like a magnificent poof
If God had granted him the stature he would have chosen to be a knight
Or at least a page
Had he been born with rakish good looks and a way with the ladies,
He could have been a rogue
And if he had been in possession of musical talent
He could have been a minstrel
(although I hate minstrels too)
But his thin, short, and sexless reality
Has collided with the Dungeons and Dragons fantasies of his youth
And the result continues his happy ambling gait
Towards my place in line at Ye Olde Churro Hut
I desperately scan the crowd for a broadsword
To cleave this clown in twain
But finding none,
I steel myself for the upcoming barrage of stale quips, bad puns, and friendly jibes
“Prithee my lord, wouldst thou like to hear the tale of Punch and Judy?”
I grab him by his massive lapels and pull him to my face

No.
No I wouldn’t.

There’s a reason why Punch and Judy didn’t make it out of the Middle Ages alive.
People are fonder of the Black Death than they are of Punch and Judy.
Now I know this isn’t your fault.
All I want is some fried dough
And I’ll leave.

The awkward silence is broken by the shout of “Huzzah! Another twenty pounds for the King!”
I release him and he scurries off to the friendly couple from Sun City
That seem quite willing to put up with his capering.
I collect my Churro and sit under a shade tree
Of all the things arcane that this Renaissance Fair had to conjure up

Alas poor Yorick.
I knew him Horatio.

About the poem “Alas Poor Yorick” by The Klute

Alas Poor Yorick was written by The Klute in 2002, originally intended for a chapbook entitled “Damn the Torpedoes”. The Klute was a popular Arizona slam poet for nearly 25 years, and this poem captures his satirical voice. Also known as Bernard Schober, The Klute often used humor to introduce new ideas into the Arizona culture. At the time, this poem was performed for mostly conservative audiences that dominated Arizona from the 1950s until the state began to flip politically in 2020.

Summary of “Alas, Poor Yorick” by The Klute

In “Alas, Poor Yorick,” The Klute offers a darkly comic and sharply observational monologue set in the most mundane of absurd modern arenas: a Renaissance Fair churro stand. The speaker, waiting in line at “Ye Olde Churro Hut,” encounters a jester — a small, pitiful man dressed in an oversized tri-cornered hat with jingling bells. The sight ignites within the narrator an almost comically violent hatred, one rooted less in the man himself and more in what he represents: forced mirth, historical reenactment gone wrong, and the discomfort of artificial joy.

As the speaker imagines crushing the “proto-mime skull” of this self-styled fool, he acknowledges the absurdity of his own reaction — “this is not his fault,” he admits — and begins to psychoanalyze the jester’s predicament. No one, he claims, wants to be a jester. Instead, life and circumstance have whittled the man into this tragicomic role, doomed to caper for others’ amusement while suppressing his dignity.

The narrative crescendos when the jester approaches, performing with “stale quips, bad puns, and friendly jibes.” The speaker’s fantasy and frustration boil over in a moment of confrontation. He grabs the man’s lapels and delivers a scathing retort: a demand for silence and a rejection of the hollow spectacle around him. The poem closes with the speaker’s self-aware echo of Hamlet’s most famous line — “Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio.” — transforming Shakespeare’s meditation on mortality into a contemporary satire on performance, identity, and modern disillusionment.

Analysis: The Jester, the Poet, and the Human Condition

Beneath its humor, “Alas, Poor Yorick” is a deeply layered piece about frustration with artifice and longing for authenticity. The Klute’s speaker projects his existential exhaustion onto the jester — a figure both ridiculous and tragic — who serves as a mirror of humanity’s own clownish struggle to find purpose. The setting at a Renaissance Fair, a space of contrived nostalgia, underscores the tension between the past we romanticize and the hollow performance of that nostalgia in the present.

The poem’s voice blends satire and confession, a hallmark of The Klute’s performance style. His hyperbolic hatred (“the white-hot intensity of an Inquisitor’s branding iron”) collapses into reluctant empathy. The jester becomes an avatar of lost dreams and failed self-transformation — the “thin, short, and sexless reality” colliding with the “Dungeons & Dragons fantasies of his youth.” Through humor and mock aggression, the speaker grapples with his own place in a society addicted to spectacle and performance, where even rebellion feels choreographed.

Language, Rhythm, and Tone

The poem reads like a rant-turned-revelation, fusing the theatricality of Shakespearean soliloquy with the comic rhythm of spoken word poetry. The Klute’s diction moves effortlessly between the archaic (“Prithee my lord”) and the contemporary (“I desperately scan the crowd for a broadsword”), creating a tension that mirrors the absurd coexistence of medieval pageantry and modern consumer culture.

The mock-heroic tone — elevating a churro-stand encounter into an epic battle — allows The Klute to explore the futility of righteous anger in an age of trivial distractions. Even the speaker’s imagined violence serves no purpose beyond catharsis; his rebellion ends, fittingly, in snack-time apathy beneath a “shade tree.” The final line’s allusion to Hamlet reframes this moment of quiet surrender as both humorous and mournful: in trying to reject artifice, the speaker realizes he is part of it.

Themes: Performance, Identity, and Disillusionment

  1. Performance as Survival: The jester, forced to entertain, becomes a metaphor for anyone trapped in performative social roles — whether artist, worker, or consumer.
  2. Hatred as Projection: The speaker’s loathing reveals more about his own disillusionment than the jester’s flaws. His anger masks the fear that he too might be a performer without meaning.
  3. The Death of Authenticity: By referencing Hamlet’s Yorick — a literal skull of a dead fool — The Klute implies that sincerity itself is dead, buried beneath layers of irony and spectacle.

This duality of humor and despair runs throughout The Klute’s work, reflecting his gothic-punk aesthetic and his philosophical fascination with mortality, absurdity, and social commentary.

The Klute’s Arizona Legacy and Performance Style

As a leading voice in Arizona’s spoken word and performance poetry scene, The Klute (Bernard Schober) has become known for fusing theatrical flair with biting satire. His performances at venues like Lawn Gnome Publishing, Caffeine Corridor, and events like The Poe Show channel the dark wit of Edgar Allan Poe through a distinctly modern, sardonic lens.

In “Alas, Poor Yorick,” his humor masks a critique of both cultural escapism and personal alienation — themes that resonate deeply with audiences across Arizona’s desert stages, where performance poetry thrives as both art and social commentary.

Learn More About The Klute

To explore more of The Klute’s work, performances, and influence on Arizona’s modern poetry scene, visit his full poet bio on AZPoetry.com.

Discover how his gothic wit, philosophical edge, and dark humor continue to shape the voice of Arizona poetry.

Chelsea guevara arizona poetry

Chelsea Guevara

Chelsea Guevara: U.S.-Salvadoran Voice, Slam Champ & Storyteller of Memory & Belonging

From Utah Roots to National Slam Triumph

Chelsea Guevara is a U.S.-Salvadoran poet and spoken word artist originally from Salt Lake City, Utah. In 2024, she made history by winning the Womxn of the World International Poetry Slam, becoming the first Salvadoran and the first Utahn to take home a national individual slam title.

Her work bridges languages, cultures, and generations. Drawing upon her family’s histories in El Salvador, her experience in Utah, and her identity as a Latina in the U.S., Chelsea weaves together storytelling, academia, and performance to explore themes of history, memory, identity, belonging, and resistance.

Academic Life & Creative Inquiry

Chelsea is currently engaged with the academic world. At the University of Arizona, she has pursued graduate studies in Latin American Studies (as of the latest info), and her coursework deeply informs her poetry. Her academic research—into Salvadoran history, diasporic identity, colonialism, and memory—provides the scaffolding for much of her creative work.

This blending of scholarship and artistry allows her poetry to function not just as aesthetic expression, but as a site of cultural reclamation and historical narrative. Her writing is attentive to both micro-moments (family, language, place) and macro-forces (migration, colonial legacies, social justice).

Published Works & Recognition

Chelsea’s published work includes:

  • Somewhere Over the Border (micro-chapbook): Finalist for the Gunpowder Press Alta California Chapbook Prize in 2023.
  • Her poetry has been featured in Button Poetry, Write About Now Poetry, Mapping Literary Utah, and others.
  • In 2025, she released her full-length collection Cipota with Button Poetry. Cipota explores intergenerational trauma, diaspora, memory, and the reclamation of identity.

Performance, Identity & Community

Chelsea is not just a poet on the page—she’s a performance poet with palpable stage presence. She has performed widely at slam events and spoken word venues, bringing emotional honesty, rich narrative detail, and cultural specificity to her performances. Winning Womxn of the World 2024 placed her squarely in the national spotlight for her ability to command a stage while telling deeply personal stories.

She is also active in organizing poetry events in Tucson, Arizona, helping to build community, nurture younger poets, and create space for Latinx and Central American voices. Her work in events aligns with an ongoing commitment to representation and justice through art.

Themes, Style & Influence

Chelsea’s poetic style is marked by:

  • Cultural Memory & Diaspora: Memories of El Salvador, family stories, migration, and border crossings appear often in her work.
  • Identity & Healing: Exploration of what it means to be U.S.-Salvadoran, the tension between past and present, and the personal as political.
  • Scholar/Poet Hybrid: Her academic background shapes her use of imagery, metaphor, and historical context—she often makes visible what is overlooked.
  • Performance Energy: Her poems are crafted not just to be read, but to be heard—she’s earned her slam title by giving words emotional power and urgency.

Her influences include both Latin American literary traditions and the spoken word community—she stands at the intersection of diaspora poetics and activism through language.

Key Milestones & Why Chelsea Matters in Arizona Poetry

  • First Salvadoran and Utahn to win a national individual slam (Womxn of the World, 2024) — a landmark achievement for representation.
  • Micro-chapbook Somewhere Over the Border recognized at a national level (Alta California prize finalist).
  • Publication of Cipota in 2025 with a major poetry platform (Button Poetry), helping her reach
Posted in Poets  • 
Haiku from seventeen syllables by hisaye yamamoto artwork azpoetry. Com

Haiku from Seventeen Syllables by Hisaye Yamamoto

“Haiku from Seventeen Syllables” by Hisaye Yamamoto

it was so much easier to say yes, yes, even when one meant no.

About the author Hisaye Yamamoto

Haiku, Silence, and Struggle in Seventeen Syllables

In Hisaye Yamamoto’s short story Seventeen Syllables, a deceptively simple English-language haiku emerges as a subtle but powerful symbol of emotional restraint, generational divide, and the burden of cultural expectations. The phrase, “It is so much easier to say yes, yes, even if one meant no,” carries deep thematic weight as it encapsulates the central conflict between a Nisei daughter, Rosie, and her Issei mother, Tome, who finds expression and fleeting joy through composing Japanese haiku. The line may appear offhand at first, but under close examination, it becomes a poignant reflection of silent resistance, suppressed identity, and a quiet plea for understanding.

Yamamoto’s Arizona Connection: Writing Through Internment

Before we explore this line further, it’s important to understand the author behind it. Hisaye Yamamoto, a pioneering Japanese-American writer, was imprisoned at the Poston War Relocation Center in Arizona during World War II. Like many others of Japanese descent, Yamamoto and her family were forcibly removed from their home and detained for years behind barbed wire in the Arizona desert. While interned, she wrote for the Poston Chronicle, the camp newspaper, and began cultivating the voice that would later distinguish her fiction.

Yamamoto’s stories, particularly Seventeen Syllables, are deeply informed by this trauma of incarceration, but they also explore the quieter, more intimate struggles within Japanese-American families—especially between mothers and daughters navigating language, identity, and survival in a divided America.

Summary: A Mother’s Voice, A Daughter’s Silence

The story Seventeen Syllables centers on the relationship between Tome, an Issei mother who writes haiku, and Rosie, her teenage Nisei daughter who is more concerned with her budding romantic interest in a boy named Jesus Carrasco. As the mother becomes increasingly consumed with her poetry, winning recognition in a local Japanese-language paper, her American-born daughter remains emotionally and linguistically distant, unable to comprehend her mother’s devotion or sorrow.

Throughout the story, Tome reads her poems aloud to Rosie, seeking connection and affirmation. Rosie, however, can only offer polite nods and automatic approval. She finds it easier to say “yes, yes” rather than confront her confusion or disinterest—hiding her emotional detachment with passive affirmation. The story culminates in a powerful, emotional outburst in which Tome reveals her traumatic history and pleads with Rosie to promise she will never marry. Rosie, once again, quietly complies.

Analysis: Haiku as a Symbol of Disconnection and Survival

The casual haiku—“It is so much easier to say yes, yes, even if one meant no”—functions on multiple levels. On the surface, it reflects Rosie’s immediate emotional coping mechanism: to avoid tension, she offers approval she doesn’t feel. But more deeply, the line encapsulates the silent endurance of women—especially immigrant women like Tome—who suffer emotional pain without protest, navigating cultural and familial expectations with quiet acquiescence.

Haiku, a Japanese poetic form built on brevity (the length is confined to seventeen syllables) and layered imagery, becomes a central symbol in the story. Tome’s haiku practice represents her attempt to reclaim identity, artistry, and emotional agency in a life dominated by domestic labor and an emotionally abusive husband. Yet, her daughter’s inability to fully engage with the meaning of haiku, or the Japanese language itself, mirrors the growing gap between generations—between cultural roots and American assimilation.

Rosie’s “yes, yes” is not just about politeness. It is about powerlessness, about the learned behavior of suppressing dissent for the sake of harmony. It’s a mantra of compliance passed down to daughters, a gesture of love wrapped in silence. The haiku’s meaning reaches beyond the mother-daughter dynamic to touch on a broader experience of marginalized women, who often find themselves silenced not just by language, but by society.

The Lingering Legacy of Internment and Inheritance

Yamamoto’s life and work embody the complicated layers of trauma, identity, and survival for Japanese Americans during and after World War II. Her time at the Poston internment camp in Arizona was not only a formative personal experience but also a defining influence on her literary career. The quiet, restrained beauty of her stories—much like haiku itself—hides deep reservoirs of pain, longing, and resistance.

Discover More About Hisaye Yamamoto

To learn more about Hisaye Yamamoto’s life, her literary achievements, and her connection to Arizona through her internment at the Poston camp, visit her AZPoetry.com poet bio page.

Explore how this remarkable writer gave voice to generations of women, immigrants, and the quietly resilient.

A boy eating a watermelon

Green & Red by Ashley Naftule

“Green & Red” by Ashley Naftule

When I was six,
my favorite part about eating watermelon
was harvesting the black seeds.

My parents would cut off the green skin
so I could slip my tongue into ruby flesh
and pluck out the seeds.

I’d store them in my cheeks,
piling up one black teardrop after another
until I had enough ammunition stocked up
to machinegun my sister’s friends.

My parents would always tell me
to stop shooting them.
I said I wasn’t:
I was trying to kiss them with
my seeds.

I tripped over a curb
the day before my seventh birthday.
On the ground, my head near the concrete,
I cried as my knee oozed watermelon red.

I stuck my fingers through the cracked shell,
feeling for the seeds in my legs.
Imagine my horror when I found nothing there.

About the poetry Ashley Naftule

“Green & Red” was originally published on FormerCactus on September 2018.

“Green & Red” by Ashley Naftule: Poem Summary & Analysis

Ashley Naftule’s poem “Green & Red” is a tender, surreal reflection on childhood innocence, memory, and the body’s transformation over time. What begins as a nostalgic recollection of summer watermelon rituals gradually evolves into an introspective meditation on loss, physical pain, and the imagination of a child confronting a world that doesn’t always align with fantasy.

Summary of “Green & Red”

The poem opens in a summer memory: a six-year-old’s delight in eating watermelon not for the fruit itself, but for the small, black seeds embedded in its flesh. The child meticulously gathers the seeds in their cheeks, transforming them into playful “ammunition” for spitting at their sister’s friends—an act described with both mischief and innocence. When their parents scold them, the child insists they’re not being aggressive, but affectionate: they are “trying to kiss them with my seeds.”

The mood shifts abruptly as the speaker recalls falling the day before their seventh birthday. With their head against the concrete and knee bloodied, the child’s imagination seeks comfort in metaphor: the red of the injury mirrors watermelon flesh. In a quietly devastating moment, they reach into the wound expecting to find seeds—symbols of playfulness and continuity—but instead, they find “nothing there.”

Analysis: The Imagination of Injury and the Loss of Innocence

A Child’s Imaginative World

The poem brilliantly captures the tactile and sensory experience of being a child. Naftule uses vivid imagery: “slip my tongue into ruby flesh,” “black teardrop,” “knee oozed watermelon red”—each phrase evokes not just the memory of a fruit, but the immersive physicality of childhood. Watermelon becomes more than a summer treat—it becomes a medium of love, war, and language.

Seeds as Symbols of Growth and Emotion

The seeds function symbolically throughout the poem. In the early stanzas, they are tangible tokens of affection and fun. Their black color and teardrop shape hint at deeper emotional resonances—grief, memory, desire—that come into focus later. The seeds, once stored in the cheeks and used playfully, become a metaphor for expression and emotional release.

The Shocking Absence

When the speaker falls and bleeds, their instinct is to look inside for those same seeds—as if their very being was made of fruit and joy. But the stark realization that “there [was] nothing there” marks a turning point: a moment of disillusionment and embodied reality. The absence of seeds is not just a physical lack, but a loss of innocence. It’s a subtle and moving depiction of the first time a child realizes their internal world may not match the real one.

Ashley Naftule’s Voice and Style

Naftule’s writing often navigates the boundary between the surreal and the personal, the whimsical and the tragic. In “Green & Red,” their poetic voice captures a moment both ordinary and profound: a scraped knee that becomes an existential crisis in a child’s mind. Their ability to ground surreal emotion in physical imagery is what makes this poem resonate long after the final line.

Discover More Work by Ashley Naftule

Ashley Naftule is a playwright, poet, and journalist based in Phoenix, Arizona. Their poetry often blends speculative themes, queer identity, and emotionally vivid storytelling. To explore more about their work, visit Ashley Naftule’s poet bio page on AZpoetry.com.

Az poetry ashley naftule

Ashley Naftule

Ashley Naftule: Phoenix Poet, Playwright & Performance Artist

Ashley Naftule (they/them) is a dynamic poet, playwright, performer, and arts journalist based in Phoenix, Arizona. Known for blending speculative themes, queer and trans identity, and razor‑sharp lyricism, Naftule is deeply rooted in Arizona’s creative community through their innovative work at Space55 Theatre and beyond (Planet Scumm).

Early Artistic Journey & Literary Voice

Originally from California, Naftule relocated to Phoenix, where their writing and performance practice flourished. They became a resident playwright and Associate Artistic Director at Space55, producing plays like Ear, The First Annual Bookburners Convention, Radio Free Europa, and Peppermint Beehive (Planet Scumm). Their approach to poetry and prose draws on influences ranging from Grant Morrison’s surreal comics to Philip K. Dick’s speculative sci‑fi, imbuing text with dreamlike, uncanny resonance.

Published Poetry & Journalism

Naftule’s poems and short fiction have appeared in numerous outlets including Rinki Dink Press, Ghost City Review, The Molotov Cocktail, Occulum, and Amethyst Review (Phoenix Art Museum, Ashley Naftule). As a freelance journalist, their writing has been featured in major platforms such as Pitchfork, Phoenix New Times, Vice, The AV Club, and Longreads (Phoenix Art Museum).

Performance & Artistic Influence in Arizona

Through performances at Space55 and collaborations with local painters, musicians, and theater-makers, Naftule contributes significantly to Phoenix’s arts culture. Their interdisciplinary expertise—spanning poetry, theater, visual art, and performance—makes them a versatile and boundary-pushing presence in the Arizona literary scene.

Themes & Style

  • Surreal Colors and Dark Humor: Naftule’s work often mixes whimsy with the uncanny—Dadaist, feminist, sci‑fi, and existential threads entwine.
  • Gender Fluid & Queer Identity: Their writing negotiates fluid identity and nonbinary experience through poetic imagery and playful defiance.
  • Political & Cultural Critique: They explore how consumerism, technology, and systems of power intersect with individual expression.

Why Ashley Naftule Belongs on AZpoetry.com

  • Arizona Connection: Longtime Phoenix resident and Space55 collaborator contributes richly to the state’s literary ecosystem.
  • Literary Range: Bridges poetry, theater, journalism, and performance—enhancing Arizona’s scene across mediums.
  • Community Engagement: Their work includes mentorship, creative leadership, and inclusive programming for diverse artists.

Key Highlights & Features

HighlightDetails
ResidencyResident playwright & Associate Artistic Director at Space55 Theatre, downtown Phoenix (Planet Scumm)
PublicationsPoetry & fiction in Ghost City Review, Occulum, Rinky Dink Press, The Hard Times, and more (Ashley Naftule, Ghost City Press)
JournalismBylines in Phoenix New Times, Pitchfork, Vice, AV Club, Bandcamp, and others (Phoenix Art Museum, Medium)

In Their Own Words

Naftule reflects: “When I finish writing something … and it doesn’t immediately embarrass me, the feeling of satisfaction … feels like a hammer striking a nail.” Their form flourishes under constraint and fusion—combining prompt-based weirdness, spoken word punch, and speculative imagery into original poetic structures (Phoenix Art Museum).

What’s Next

Ashley is currently working on Peppermint Beehive, a play exploring gentrification in downtown Phoenix with nods to John Waters, The B‑52s, and cult aesthetics. They’ve also written an absurdist comedy novella inspired by Spuds MacKenzie and are involved in podcasts, chalk art installation, and emerging poetry collaborations (Phoenix Art Museum).

Discover More

Explore more of poets of Arizona HERE.

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Ain't i an american by jeremiah blue poem azpoetry. Com

And Ain’t I An American by Jeremiah Blue

“And Ain’t I An American” by Jeremiah Blue

I do appreciate the eagle
but not enough to call it American
and tattoo it on my arm with banners
of “God Bless the USA”

Because I am hoping that the US will be
just one amongst others blessed by God

And ain’t I an American?

I am trying to free Tibet with the bumper of my car
rather than replacing it with an American flag

I think that free-trade zones aren’t often all that free

I wrote a poem about my national pride
and it didn’t say anything about keeping the Mexicans out

Being a small minority of the world’s population
while consuming nearly half its resources
sounds like a comfortable enough position
to not be all that well threatened by immigrants
sending paychecks home to impoverished families

And ain’t I an American?

I took classes in non-violent resistance
rather than studying my enemy for weaknesses
because ‘fighting for peace’ is like
‘fucking for virginity’
Sounds like a pretty reasonable argument to me?

And ain’t I an American?

Fox: not my primary source of news.

Reality TV doesn’t look anything like my reality.

I left my Top Gun jacket and mullet
in the era they came our and perished in

I am drinking Guinness over Bud Light every time

I prefer salsa and flamenco to Garth Brooks

I think hot dogs are immoral

and I haven’t been to a baseball game
since Baby Ruth named its candy bar after that one guy

And ain’t I an American?

I don’t think you need to be a lesbian
or a woman that is mad to be a feminist

I feel it is a more productive move away from institutionalized racism
to not fill our prisons with a majority of our black and brown men

I am starting to think that it has been just a little too long
since we have had a non-male or non-religious president

There are times when the thought crosses my mind
that the American Dream is just something
that those who have been handed it
dreamed up to keep
everyone else dreamin’

And America does not, at all times,
make me proud to be an American

And ain’t I an American?

About the poet Jeremiah Blue

Exploring National Identity in Jeremiah Blue’s “And Ain’t I An American”

Jeremiah Blue’s poem “And Ain’t I An American”, originally published in 2012, offers a thought-provoking examination of American identity, challenging conventional symbols and notions of patriotism. Through a series of introspective reflections, Blue invites readers to reconsider what it truly means to be an American in today’s diverse society.

Summary of “And Ain’t I An American”

The poem begins with the speaker acknowledging traditional emblems of American patriotism, such as the eagle and the phrase “God Bless the USA.” However, the speaker expresses a desire for inclusivity, hoping that divine blessings extend beyond the United States to encompass all nations. This sentiment sets the tone for the poem’s exploration of broader, more inclusive definitions of national pride.

Throughout the poem, the speaker reflects on various personal choices and beliefs that diverge from mainstream American norms:

  • Opting for a “Free Tibet” bumper sticker over an American flag decal.
  • Questioning the fairness of free-trade zones.
  • Writing about national pride without advocating for restrictive immigration policies.
  • Highlighting the disproportionate consumption of global resources by a small segment of the world’s population.
  • Choosing non-violent resistance over aggressive tactics.
  • Expressing skepticism toward mainstream media and reality television.
  • Preferring cultural elements from other countries, such as Guinness over Bud Light and salsa over country music.

The poem culminates with the speaker contemplating systemic issues within American society, including institutionalized racism, gender inequality in political leadership, and the elusive nature of the American Dream. Despite these critiques, the recurring refrain, “And ain’t I an American?” underscores the speaker’s assertion of their American identity, suggesting that questioning and critical reflection are integral components of true patriotism.

Analysis of Themes and Techniques

Jeremiah Blue employs several literary devices to convey the poem’s central themes:

  • Refrain: The repeated question, “And ain’t I an American?” serves as a powerful refrain, emphasizing the speaker’s challenge to narrow definitions of American identity and highlighting the diversity of experiences and beliefs that constitute the nation.
  • Irony and Satire: By juxtaposing traditional symbols of patriotism with personal choices that deviate from the norm, the poem utilizes irony to question the authenticity of conventional expressions of national pride.
  • Cultural Critique: The poem addresses various societal issues, including consumerism, media influence, systemic racism, and gender inequality, prompting readers to reflect on the complexities and contradictions inherent in American society.
  • Personal Reflection: Through the speaker’s candid sharing of personal preferences and beliefs, the poem underscores the importance of individual agency in defining one’s own sense of patriotism and belonging.

Overall, “And Ain’t I An American” invites readers to engage in a nuanced exploration of national identity, encouraging a more inclusive and critical understanding of what it means to be American.

Discover More About Jeremiah Blue

To learn more about Jeremiah Blue’s work and contributions to contemporary poetry, visit his poet bio page on AZpoetry.com.

WHAT’S WRONG WITH BEING HUMAN poem by Josh Rathkamp

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH BEING HUMAN” by Josh Rathkamp

I lived two houses down a dead end street.
When the river ran rough
we checked our basements.
We called to each other to help.
We hauled boxes up
from the dark like large fish.

When Mary or Mark or Helen died,
little by little,
we all did. We sent flowers.
The street took to looking
like a Cadillac. It grew bolder.
It grew rosy cheeks.

When Jack repainted, John
repainted, and the painters
ate lunch on the roof.

We said “it looks nice,”
nodding at our mailboxes.
We waved while shoveling snow
off the walkway no one walked
but the dogs and our manic-depressive mailman.

When we wanted an egg or a glass
of milk we drove to the store.
We stared out our windows.
Our children grew without parents.
We grew into speaking without words.

We thought our reflections
in the lamplight were only there
out of loyalty, and, if given
a chance, would run
like Mrs. Eddie’s dead son
naked, through trees.

About the poet Josh Rathkamp