Tag: Academia

WHAT’S WRONG WITH BEING HUMAN poem by Josh Rathkamp

May 31, 2025

“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

Gary Every

May 15, 2025

Sedona’s Storyteller, Poet Laureate, and Genre-Bending Wordsmith

Gary Every, the Poet Laureate of Sedona, Arizona, is a literary force known for his genre-defying style, energetic performances, and profound connection to the American Southwest. With over 1,300 publications and nine books to his name, Every has earned recognition in poetry, fiction, journalism, and speculative literature, carving out a unique space where the natural world, science fiction, and spoken word converge.

A Career of Boundless Expression

Gary Every’s expansive body of work reflects his commitment to telling stories that blur traditional boundaries. Whether delivering beat-inspired spoken word, penning sharp science fiction narratives, or crafting intimate essays grounded in Arizona’s diverse landscape, his voice remains uniquely his own. Every’s storytelling ranges from rock concerts and Earth Day celebrations to poetry slams and resort bonfires—wherever there is a microphone or a willing audience, Gary Every brings his signature style.

Prose, Poetry, and the Imaginative Frontier

Every describes his creative output as equally divided between prose, poetry, and fiction—or, in his own words: “journalism, science fiction, and beatnik.” This balance allows him to explore the human condition through both the lens of grounded reality and the infinite possibilities of speculative thought. His journalistic work has been honored by the Arizona Newspaper Association, earning consecutive Best Lifestyle Feature awards.

Honors and Recognition

Gary Every’s commitment to language has garnered critical acclaim across multiple disciplines. He is a four-time nominee for the prestigious Rhysling Award, which honors the best science fiction poetry of the year, and he has received numerous Pushcart Prize nominations for both his fiction and verse. His poetry regularly appears in journals and anthologies dedicated to speculative and literary writing alike.

Introducing The Mighty Minstrels: Poetry Meets Jazz

In addition to his solo work, Gary Every joined forces with a collective of musicians to produce the jazz-poetry fusion album Introducing The Mighty Minstrels. The project underscores Every’s musicality and his roots in performance poetry, showcasing the rhythm and improvisational spark that animate his live readings.

Voice of the Verde Valley

Though originally from outside Sedona, Every is deeply rooted in Northern Arizona’s landscape, folklore, and history. As Sedona’s Poet Laureate, he elevates regional voices and natural wonders through public readings, workshops, and cultural events that blend performance with environmental awareness. His work frequently draws from desert canyons, red rock formations, and the mythic aura of the Verde Valley region.

From Bonfire to Slam Stage

Before his poet laureate appointment, Every honed his storytelling chops as a bonfire storyteller at a luxury resort near Tucson. This period instilled in him a passion for live performance, which continues to inform his presence at poetry slams and community events across Arizona. Whether riffing at a jazz set or engaging audiences at literary festivals, his delivery is dynamic and unforgettable.

A Literary Bridge Across Genres

Gary Every’s writing challenges and expands our understanding of what poetry can be. By weaving together beat aesthetics, desert ecology, interstellar imagination, and sharp journalistic observation, he crafts work that resonates across audiences and disciplines. His ability to shift seamlessly between the page and the stage, the traditional and the speculative, places him among Arizona’s most versatile and visionary literary figures.

Want to read Gary Every’s books? Check out his official website HERE.

itll take the edge off they say natasha murdock poem artwork pregnancy

it’ll take the edge off they say by Natasha Murdock

May 9, 2025

“it’ll take the edge off they say” by Natasha Murdock

but I am made of edges
edges of elbows & guilt & feet & baby
edges staring me in the face—pain
managed through natural techniques—
as if these edges that rip up my spine
& ribs & lungs are natural
as if disappointment isn’t just
another edge to jump off
as if lifting one thing doesn’t
expose one other thing to pain
as if preparing to be split into two
is as easy as scribbling down
a wish to be whole

About the poet Natasha Murdock

In her visceral and introspective poem “it’ll take the edge off they say,” Natasha Murdock confronts the complexities of womanhood, pain, and the contradictory expectations surrounding childbirth and the female body. The poem is part of her powerful collection sign on the dotted line to release the record, a 2017 National Poetry Series winner that investigates the terrain of motherhood, sexuality, and identity with both lyrical precision and unflinching honesty.

Summary

The speaker begins by identifying herself not as a cohesive whole but as “made of edges”—physical, emotional, maternal, and psychological. These edges include elbows, feet, guilt, and the omnipresent baby. From the outset, Murdock positions her body and experience within a framework of fragmentation and pain. The poem takes aim at the idea that pain can be managed with “natural techniques,” exposing the absurdity of pretending that such suffering is easily soothed or inherently noble.

She interrogates the romanticization of “natural” pain and questions societal platitudes about endurance and sacrifice. The poem’s imagery is sharp and layered: edges “rip up” the spine and ribs, and disappointment is just “another edge to jump off.” The final lines crystallize the central tension—how the act of preparing to be “split into two” during childbirth is anything but natural, or easy. The wish to be whole stands in stark contrast to the reality of being divided, physically and emotionally.

Analysis

Murdock’s use of enjambment and line breaks creates a sense of breathlessness and fragmentation, echoing the speaker’s bodily and psychological experience. The repeated invocation of “edges” reflects both the literal sensations of pain and the metaphorical contours of a life being reshaped by motherhood. Each edge carries weight—some cutting, some unavoidable, some anticipated but still overwhelming.

The poem critiques the cultural narrative that positions maternal suffering as noble or desirable. In doing so, it pushes back against both traditional and modern expectations placed on women: to endure, to perform, to manage pain gracefully, and to emerge from childbirth somehow stronger or fulfilled. Murdock turns the medical and cultural jargon of childbirth—“natural techniques,” “pain management”—into sources of irony and critique, revealing how language itself can obscure the brutal truths of embodied experience.

There’s a quiet rage beneath the surface of this poem, a defiant refusal to accept pain as virtue or silence as strength. And yet, the final line—“a wish to be whole”—offers a glimmer of longing, if not hope. It’s a wish that resonates with anyone who has felt the world’s expectations carve into their identity.

Murdock’s poetic voice is sharp, intimate, and undeniably essential in the contemporary conversation on gender, motherhood, and bodily autonomy.

Want to learn more about Natasha Murdock’s work and poetic journey?
Click here to visit her poet bio page on AZPoetry.com »

Natasha Murdock

May 9, 2025

Natasha Murdock: Suburban Elegy and the Poetics of Everyday Awe

Natasha Murdock is a poet whose voice emerges from the quiet corners of suburban life, motherhood, and memory. Based in Gilbert, Arizona, Murdock holds an MFA in Poetry from Arizona State University, where she honed a poetic style that embraces clarity, understatement, and emotional depth. She is a part of the vibrant East Valley literary scene, balancing her writing life with her work as adjunct faculty at Mesa Community College.

A Poetic Eye on Domestic Spaces and Unspoken Moments

Murdock’s poetry reveals the sacred in the everyday—whether it’s the hum of household chores, the surreal exhaustion of parenthood, or the strange, persistent beauty found in life’s overlooked moments. Her poems capture what is often left unsaid, drawing readers into an interior world where grace and tension coexist. Through a minimal yet resonant style, she examines the ways silence speaks and gestures carry the weight of memory.

Published in BlazeVOX and The Cobalt Review

Her work has appeared in respected literary journals including BlazeVOX and The Cobalt Review, where readers and editors alike have praised her ability to render ordinary experience with lyric intensity. These publications reflect her place among contemporary voices that push against the boundaries of form without losing accessibility or human connection.

Teaching, Community, and Literary Advocacy

Beyond the page, Murdock is a dedicated educator. At Mesa Community College, she introduces new generations of students to poetry, creative writing, and the power of literary expression. Her work in the classroom echoes her own journey—one that is rooted in Arizona’s literary institutions and nurtured by the mentorship and community of the Southwest’s writing culture.

A Voice Rooted in Arizona

As a poet living in Gilbert and working in the greater Phoenix area, Natasha Murdock brings a distinctly Arizona voice to contemporary poetry—one that reflects the contradictions of desert life, the rhythms of family, and the challenge of reconciling selfhood with responsibility. Her poetry bridges the intimate and the expansive, the personal and the political.

Readers can expect more work from Murdock in the coming years, as she continues to explore the complexities of language, longing, and living fully in the moment.

Josh Rathkamp

May 9, 2025

Josh Rathkamp: Arizona Poet, Educator, and Voice of the Everyday Sacred

Josh Rathkamp is a celebrated American poet and educator whose work captures the quiet complexities of contemporary life. Born in Saginaw, Michigan, Rathkamp earned his BA from Western Michigan University, followed by an MFA in Poetry from Arizona State University and an MFA in Poetry Translation from Drew University. He currently resides in Gilbert, Arizona, where he teaches and directs the Creative Writing Program at Mesa Community College.

Literary Contributions and Style

Rathkamp’s poetry is known for its introspective nature and exploration of everyday experiences. His work often delves into themes of family, personal struggle, and the search for meaning in ordinary moments. His poems have been featured in numerous literary journals, including American Poetry Review, The Southern Review, Narrative, Boxcar Poetry Review, and Rattle.

Published Works

Some Nights No Cars At All (2007)

Rathkamp’s debut collection, Some Nights No Cars At All, published by Ausable Press, offers a poignant look into the nuances of daily life. The poems in this collection reflect on personal experiences and the subtle beauty found in routine.

A Storm to Close the Door (2016)

His second collection, A Storm to Close the Door, was selected by Terrance Hayes for the 2016 Georgetown Review Poetry Prize. This work delves deeper into personal themes, including Rathkamp’s experiences as a single father and the challenges of navigating personal upheaval. The collection has been praised for its emotional depth and candid exploration of life’s complexities.

Educational Endeavors and Community Engagement

At Mesa Community College, Rathkamp has been instrumental in developing the Creative Writing Program, fostering a supportive environment for emerging writers. His commitment to education extends beyond the classroom, as he frequently participates in community workshops and poetry readings throughout Arizona.

Recognition and Impact

Rathkamp’s contributions to poetry and education have been recognized through various awards and fellowships. His work continues to resonate with readers and students alike, offering insights into the human experience through a lens of authenticity and reflection.

For more information on Josh Rathkamp’s work and upcoming events, visit his Mesa Community College profile.

Ofelia Zepeda

April 15, 2025

Tohono O’odham Poet, Linguist, and Cultural Preservationist

Rooted in the Sonoran Desert and Tohono O’odham Heritage

Ofelia Zepeda is one of Arizona’s most important literary voices and a nationally recognized poet and linguist. A member of the Tohono O’odham Nation, Zepeda was born and raised in Stanfield, Arizona—a community nestled in the Sonoran Desert. Her poetry is shaped by the rhythms of desert life and the enduring cultural practices of her people. Zepeda’s work captures the delicate balance between language, land, and legacy, while illuminating the experiences of contemporary Indigenous life in Southern Arizona.

Academic Achievements and Linguistic Legacy

Zepeda earned her BA, MA, and PhD in linguistics from the University of Arizona, where she has become a vital figure in Indigenous language preservation. She is the author of A Papago Grammar (1983), one of the first comprehensive grammars of the Tohono O’odham language (formerly known as Papago). Her academic work goes hand-in-hand with her poetic voice, serving as a powerful tool to sustain and celebrate the O’odham language.

As a longtime professor at the University of Arizona, Zepeda has directed the American Indian Studies Program and currently leads the American Indian Language Development Institute (AILDI), which provides training and support to Native communities working to revitalize their languages. She also serves as the editor of Sun Tracks, a groundbreaking literary series at the University of Arizona Press devoted to publishing Native American writers and artists.

Poetry Grounded in Language and Land

Ofelia Zepeda is the author of two celebrated collections of poetry: Ocean Power: Poems from the Desert (1995) and Jewed’I-hoi / Earth Movements: O’odham Poems (1996). These collections weave together the cultural and linguistic threads of the Tohono O’odham people, offering bilingual poems that honor traditional songs, sacred spaces, and the natural world. Zepeda’s work often features “code-switching” between English and O’odham, creating a layered, living representation of her heritage.

Her poetry is deeply sensory—filled with desert imagery, familial memory, and cultural ceremony. As reviewer Dennis Holt wrote in Drunken Boat, Zepeda’s writing represents a “cultural mélange,” where language and landscape move in harmony. Whether writing about sacred spaces or everyday observations, Zepeda captures the spiritual power and complexity of Indigenous desert life.

National Recognition and the MacArthur Fellowship

In 1999, Ofelia Zepeda was awarded a prestigious MacArthur Fellowship—also known as the “Genius Grant”—for her groundbreaking work as a poet, educator, and language activist. She has also received funding from the Endangered Language Fund to support the Tohono O’odham Dictionary Project and other language revitalization efforts.

Zepeda’s contributions have had a lasting impact not only in Arizona, but across the country. She has become a beacon of Indigenous representation in American letters and a role model for Native writers and linguists alike.

Advocate, Educator, and Keeper of Words

Beyond her poetry, Zepeda is a tireless advocate for Indigenous education and community empowerment. Through her work at AILDI and the Sun Tracks series, she has mentored countless Native writers and helped bring Indigenous stories into classrooms and libraries throughout Arizona and beyond.

Her poetry and scholarship have been featured in literary journals, anthologies, and educational curricula, and she continues to write and speak at conferences and events across the country. Her ability to bridge academia and artistry makes her one of Arizona’s most enduring cultural figures.

Ofelia Zepeda’s Legacy in Arizona Poetry

Ofelia Zepeda’s life work is a testament to the transformative power of poetry, language, and cultural memory. From her roots in Stanfield to her leadership at the University of Arizona, Zepeda has carried the voice of her people into the wider world. Her poetry offers a deeply spiritual and intellectual journey through the Sonoran Desert and the living language of the Tohono O’odham Nation.

Running In A Red State poem by Cymelle Leah Edwards AZpoetry.com

Running in a Red State by Cymelle Leah Edwards

April 12, 2025

“Running in a Red State” by Cymelle Leah Edwards

Don’t be political.

Sinclair Wash Trail:

Anger is that which your body recognizes as alien; that which has been whittled nonexistent; you temper that emotion at the age of eight when you indulge it and learn that your angry is angrier because it’s also darker; when you serve a man who says he’ll take his coffee like you; standing phone-to-ear at the bus stop when a woman nearby interrupts to say, you have great diction; when he lets his dogs off their leashes as you jog past; in your sleep when this all happens again; you forget what it’s like to be angry until your larynx stiffens from singed resistance; from charred light curdling in the back of your throat.

Don’t sit on a fence.

Woody Mt. Road:

I tried to be both; tried to cinephile-file roles; tried to balance our budget; tried to sleep in my own bed; tried to re-create memories; to be in two places at once; to protract the hours in a day; tried to be honest anyway; tried to sit on my hands so they wouldn’t reach for her; tried to spell without vowels; tried to circumnavigate her body; tried to sorrel our walls; tried to pray it away; to run it away; tried to away; this is when I learned to splinter.

Saying nothing is saying something.

Fat Man’s Loop:

The dogs are off their leashes again, moments before I meet his path. I say to myself, don’t move over this time, let them move over. Let them disrupt their own PRs, mess up their own stride. Close enough to feel heat radiating off his jogging fluorescents, I inch to my right.

I can’t hear you.

Been dreaming about grandma lately, about running into her house after school and watching her rescue the princess on Nintendo classic. She was really good at being Mario, at moving through different worlds, at saving. I’d ask with my small voice can I play? She’d look at my school uniform covered in grass stains, my fingers sticky with the remnants of a pb&j. It’s hot right now, let the machine cool down. I’d wait thirty or so minutes which felt like hours, return to the living room, remove the cartridge and blow.

I could never make it through the underwater theme.

Not choosing is also a choice.

Buffalo Park:

They ride their bikes close so dirt kicks into my nostrils, they look back to watch me cough.

Silence speaks.

Walnut Canyon Ranch:

I learn to give her alfalfa pellets, to stretch my hand out flat, to pet her crest and say, that’s a good girl. I learn to stand parallel with her legs when removing her coat, to pat her bum before I unclip the left hook, to not bother with getting her to like me, she will never like me. I learn that naming a horse is an art. That it took Susan over a year to come up with “Yankee” and that she’s fine with it. I learn their names can’t be more than eighteencharacters, that I’ll never own Ubiquitouuuuuuuuus. I see the rope hanging in their front yard, chalk it up to a game for their grandkids, a tool to swing on. It is the noose at the end that makes me wonder if I should ever return to feed the horses. To find another subset of winona acreage to run through.

Say it, I dare you.

Downtown:

Sometimes, when we experience trauma, we build a boundary of invincibility. We think, the worst has already happened and I survived. At least, this is what I did and still try to fake. I was assaulted last August, seven days after moving to a new town. I knew the guy; we went to high school together. Erring-on-the-side-of-caution was fleeting. I relied on a mutually established sense of trust over four years old. I wrote poems about it, some of which are in the ether right now, being traipsed by cursors and sponged with the fingertips of a stranger. After this event, this uncanny eventuality, I stopped running. This had always been my way of shedding; through perspiration and escapism, I let trees and trail markers lead me through unnerving, undoing, and misremembering. Like most of the runners on my high school track team and those I met while briefly a part of a collegiate team in Seattle, it is our sustenance, theoretically as important as air itself. This, if you couldn’t tell, is written in the vein of writing’s most repudiated word, passion. Back then I was a sprinter, I hadn’t learned to appreciate great distances, pacing, stride, or breath. Sealed-off from the outside world with chain-link barriers, I also didn’t know what it was like to run without the protection of synthetic rubber keeping me from traversing a world unknown.

Forget about how hot it is. I don’t think about it. Running in Arizona is what it is. Hydrate, you’ll be fine. There are other dangers that lurk besides hyperthermia. Suburbs of Phoenix, like Gilbert or Casa Grande (maybe its own town and not a suburb), are mostly white communities. I grew up on the east side of Casa Grande. I built speed being chased by loose dogs in the neighborhood while walking to and from the bus stop. Apoplectic though they may have been, we understood we were helping one another out – me with learning to accelerate, them with their daily exercise. Is this what men with confederate flags billowing from the back of their F-150s believe too?

Who is this little black girl, and what is she running from?

Winning:

Winning a race used to involve medals, ribbons, clout.

Winning means punching code into my garage’s keypad, getting back. Winning is protracting, is living longer than yesterday.

About the poet Cymelle Leah Edwards

Summary and Analysis of “Running in a Red State” by Cymelle Leah Edwards

In “Running in a Red State”, Arizona-based poet Cymelle Leah Edwards crafts a poetic essay that powerfully intertwines personal memory, cultural identity, trauma, and resistance—both literal and figurative. The poem functions as a hybrid narrative, blending free verse, social commentary, and prose poetry with rich specificity of place, capturing scenes from Northern Arizona’s rugged trails to the subtle violence of everyday life in a politically conservative environment.

Structured as a series of meditations mapped across familiar trails like Sinclair Wash, Woody Mt. Road, Fat Man’s Loop, Buffalo Park, and Walnut Canyon Ranch, Edwards navigates what it means to run through a landscape that is at once physically beautiful and symbolically fraught. These trails aren’t merely places for physical movement—they become spaces of reflection, confrontation, survival, and reckoning.

Navigating Rage and Race

The poem opens with the assertion “Don’t be political”, only to dismantle that notion line by line. Edwards presents a litany of moments in which her Blackness is othered: a man making a racialized joke while ordering coffee, a woman praising her “diction” as if surprised, dogs unleashed in spaces where she runs, and the self-awareness that even anger—when expressed through a Black body—is perceived as more threatening. The poet confronts these aggressions with grace and measured defiance, describing them as embers, singed resistance, and “charred light curdling in the back of [her] throat.”

Queer Identity and Duality

On Woody Mt. Road, Edwards explores a layered identity with lines like, “tried to spell without vowels; tried to circumnavigate her body…” Here, she probes queer desire, the constraints of binary expectations, and the impossibility of fitting into a system that doesn’t accommodate complexity. In trying to “be both,” she introduces the metaphor of splitting—learning to “splinter”—and thus illustrates the emotional cost of existing in intersectional spaces that demand singularity.

The Silence of Compliance

At Fat Man’s Loop, the silence becomes palpable. The refusal to yield space—“don’t move over this time”—is itself a radical act. It represents a reclaiming of bodily autonomy and public space. The references to her grandmother playing Mario and saving princesses offer a tender respite from the poem’s heavier subjects. Yet even this nostalgic moment underscores her longing for safety, for someone to “rescue” her.

Violence, Trauma, and Recovery

In one of the most visceral sections—Downtown—Edwards speaks directly to her own trauma. “I was assaulted last August, seven days after moving to a new town.” With brave vulnerability, she recounts the emotional aftermath of sexual violence and the way it disrupted her sense of freedom. Running, once her method of release and healing, became unsafe. Here, Edwards captures the weight of trauma—how it rewires the body’s instincts, maps new caution into muscle memory, and alters a runner’s stride.

Running as Resistance

Despite these dangers, Edwards continues to run. She catalogs the subtle racism of white suburban Arizona—F-150s waving confederate flags, sideways glances, dirt kicked into her nostrils—and continues to find her rhythm.

“Winning is protracting, is living longer than yesterday.”

In this closing line, she redefines survival as success. Her poem is not just about running; it is about reclaiming space, healing, and moving forward through pain, oppression, and silence.

“Running in a Red State” is a poignant testimony to the lived experiences of a Black woman in Arizona, navigating identity, systemic racism, and resilience. Cymelle Leah Edwards’ voice is essential, powerful, and unflinching. Her ability to pair physical movement with emotional evolution makes this poem a landmark piece of Arizona literature.

👉 Learn more about Cymelle Leah Edwards on her AZPoetry.com poet bio page.

Cymelle Edwards Flagstaff Poet AZpoetry.com

Cymelle Leah Edwards

April 10, 2025

Flagstaff-Based Poet and Editor with National Recognition

Cymelle Leah Edwards is a rising literary voice from Flagstaff, Arizona, whose work echoes across page and stage. A Pushcart Prize nominee and recipient of the prestigious Diana Gabaldon Creative Writing Award, Edwards is quickly earning a place among the most vital poets in the Southwest. With a strong commitment to both craft and community, she balances creative output with leadership roles in Arizona’s vibrant literary scene.

Academic Excellence and Literary Leadership

Edwards holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Northern Arizona University, where her passion for poetry blossomed into a broader commitment to publishing and editing. She formerly served as the Poetry Editor for Thin Air Magazine, NAU’s long-running literary journal. Her editorial insight also extends as an editor at Kelp Journal, where she cultivated voices across genres.

Community Organizer and Advocate for the Arts

Cymelle is not only a powerful writer, but also a champion of literary culture in Northern Arizona. She served as a board member for the Northern Arizona Book Festival, helping to organize and support one of the state’s most important annual literary events. Her work as an organizer underscores her dedication to amplifying diverse voices and creating inclusive platforms for poets and writers throughout the region.

Publishing Credits and Performance Poetry

Her written work has been published in respected literary journals such as Elm Leaves Journal, Contra Viento, and Ghost City Press. Beyond the page, Cymelle has made waves in Arizona’s spoken word scene, winning the Phoenix Poetry Slam at the downtown art venue Megaphone PHX, a hub for poetic performance and creative experimentation.

GCU Roots and the Arizona Connection

Before pursuing her MFA, Cymelle attended Grand Canyon University, an institution known for producing talented artists and thinkers. Her creative trajectory remains deeply tied to Arizona—from the desert landscape to the mountain views of Flagstaff—and her poetry often reflects the natural, cultural, and emotional terrain of the Southwest.

A Voice to Watch in Contemporary Poetry

Cymelle Leah Edwards represents the best of contemporary Arizona poetry: talented, thoughtful, and unafraid to confront personal and political truths. Whether through her haunting verse, her curatorial insight, or her work behind the scenes in the literary community, Edwards is a vital part of Arizona’s poetic identity and an emerging force on the national literary stage. She currently lives in Indianapolis, Indiana.

Valerie Martínez

April 2, 2025

Valerie Martínez: Poet, Educator, and Advocate for Art, History, and Healing

Valerie Martínez is a celebrated American poet, writer, educator, translator, and arts administrator whose work transcends the boundaries of genre and discipline. Born and raised in Santa Fe, New Mexico, Martínez’s poetry is deeply rooted in the cultural, historical, and ecological landscape of the American Southwest. A descendant of both Spanish colonizers and Indigenous peoples, she brings a rich ancestral perspective to her writing—an intersection of memory, identity, and place.

From Santa Fe to the World: Life, Education, and Travel

Valerie Martínez left Santa Fe in 1979 to attend Vassar College, earning her A.B. in English and American Literature. She later pursued an MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry at the University of Arizona. Her life and poetry have been shaped by extensive travels across the United States and around the globe—including long stays in Swaziland (now Eswatini), Israel, Japan, South Africa, and Latin America.

Martínez’s time abroad, especially her years teaching English in Southern Africa, gave her a broad cultural perspective that informs the themes of empathy, environmental stewardship, and social justice that permeate her work.

A Distinguished Career in Education and Literary Arts

Before returning to New Mexico permanently in 2003, Martínez served as a college professor for more than 23 years, teaching courses in poetry, American literature, women’s literature, Latino/a literature, and Native American literature. From 2018 to 2021, she served as Director of History and Literary Arts at the National Hispanic Cultural Center in Albuquerque.

Her dedication to the intersection of art and community also led her to co-found Littleglobe, Inc., and later, the nonprofit arts and social change organization Artful Life. Most recently, she led the groundbreaking CHART project (Culture, History, Art, Reconciliation, and Truth), facilitating a year-long community engagement process addressing the complex cultural history of Santa Fe through inclusive storytelling and healing.

A Legacy of Poetry That Speaks to the World

Valerie Martínez is the author of six poetry collections, two chapbooks, and a book of translations. Her groundbreaking poetry blends lyricism with political and ecological awareness, giving voice to the voiceless and illuminating histories too often overlooked.

Notable Poetry Collections:

Count (University of Arizona Press, 2021)
A hybrid book-length poem that examines climate change through myth, personal memory, environmental data, and global storytelling. Count was adapted into a choral composition titled As the Waters Began to Rise by composer Peter Gilbert.
Each and Her (University of Arizona Press, 2010)
A powerful meditation on femicide and violence against women, particularly the murdered and disappeared women of Juárez, Mexico. The book was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize and received the 2011 Arizona Book Award.
Absence, Luminescent (Four Way Books, 1999; reissued 2010)
Her debut collection, which won the Larry Levis Prize and a Greenwall Grant from the Academy of American Poets. Jean Valentine praised it as “expansive, surprising, intelligent… filled with compassion.”
World to World (University of Arizona Press, 2004)
A collection that continues Martínez’s exploration of identity, ancestry, and spiritual inheritance.
And They Called it Horizon (Sunstone Press, 2010)
Written during her tenure as Poet Laureate of Santa Fe, this collection reflects her deep connection to place and community.

Publications, Honors, and Influence

Martínez’s poetry has been widely published in esteemed literary journals such as Poetry, American Poetry Review, AGNI, The Colorado Review, and Mandorla. Her work also appears in more than 30 anthologies including The Best American Poetry.

A frequent guest speaker and reader at national literary festivals and universities, Martínez continues to inspire a new generation of poets with her genre-blending work and community-focused approach to art.

Her poem “Bowl” was featured in the PBS/Poetry Foundation “Poetry Everywhere” series and was also set to music by composer Glen Roven and performed by soprano Talise Trevigne. Another poem, “September, 2001,” was featured in The Washington Post‘s “Poet’s Choice” column.

Poetry as Artful Action

What sets Valerie Martínez apart is her unwavering belief in the power of poetry as a tool for transformation—not just personal, but communal and ecological. Her work invites readers to bear witness, to reflect, and to act.

Whether she’s writing about climate change, cultural memory, femicide, or the beauty of New Mexico’s landscape, her poems ask us to reconsider the stories we tell and the silences we keep.

Night in Arizona by Sara Teasdale

March 2, 2025

“Night in Arizona” by Sara Teasdale

The moon is a chiseled snowflake,
It floats in a sky of pink,
The desert is a hushed whisper,
A breath of stars, I think.
Cacti stand in shadows,
Guardians of the night,
Their spires reach the heavens,
In the pale moonlight.
The night is a desert lily,
Unfolding in the breeze,
Its petals are the moments,
Of tranquil, silent ease.

**Summary and Analysis of Night in Arizona by Sara Teasdale**

Sara Teasdale’s Night in Arizona captures the serene beauty of the desert under moonlight, painting a picture of stillness, wonder, and quiet reverence. The poem’s opening line, “The moon is a chiseled snowflake,” immediately sets a delicate yet striking image, likening the moon to something both fragile and precise, floating in a soft, pink sky. This unexpected color palette challenges typical desert imagery, infusing it with a dreamlike, almost surreal quality.

The second stanza brings the landscape to life, describing cacti as “Guardians of the night,” their towering silhouettes standing watch over the desert. This personification lends an air of mysticism and quiet vigilance, as if nature itself is engaged in a sacred ritual of solitude.

In the final stanza, Teasdale deepens the metaphor, likening the night to a desert lily, unfolding gently in the breeze. The petals symbolize fleeting moments of peace and tranquility, emphasizing how time moves differently in the desert—slow, deliberate, and profound.

Themes and Literary Devices:

Imagery: The poem’s ethereal descriptions of moonlight, cacti, and flowers evoke a vivid sensory experience, allowing readers to see, feel, and hear the desert’s quiet beauty.
Personification: The cacti as “guardians” and the night as a blooming flower suggest that nature is alive and watchful, reinforcing a sense of harmony between the landscape and the passage of time.
Tranquility and Timelessness: The gentle unfolding of the desert night creates an atmosphere of peace and reflection, characteristic of Teasdale’s ability to find beauty in stillness.

Teasdale’s Night in Arizona is a meditative and graceful exploration of the desert’s nighttime allure, a place where moonlight and shadows intertwine to create an atmosphere of quiet wonder.

About the poet Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale was a Pulitzer Prize-winning poet known for her lyrical style, emotional depth, and deep connection to nature. Her work often explores beauty, solitude, and fleeting moments of human experience. To learn more about her life and legacy, click here to visit her full poet bio page.