Missouri Alice Williams and Abie Waisman join Maine Poet Laureate Stuart Kestenbaum in conversation and to read their poems "A Little Secret," and “Santa Rosa,” featured in A NEW LAND, a poetry anthology from The Telling Room. Stuart and Missouri discuss observation as inspiration, sharing poems at dinner, the role of storytelling in theater and writing, and being a teacher now. Next, Stuart and Abie discuss wildfires, a golden straw, architecture as poetic inspiration, and the art of the haiku. Missouri is a current student at Southern Maine Community College, and is starting her own business that teaches music to elementary and preschool children. Abie is a student at Waynflete School.
Voices of the Future is hosted and conceived by Stuart Kestenbaum, produced by Josephine Holtzman and Isaac Kestenbaum at Future Projects, with help from Carly Peruccio, mixed by Merritt Jacob, and music by Jordan Kramer. Voices of the Future is curated and distributed by Molly McGrath and Rylan Hynes of The Telling Room. This series is made possible by the Academy of American Poets with funds from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation.
To learn more about The Telling Room and its programs, visit www.tellingroom.org.
Missouri Alice ...: Stage life with me, and then my poetry life, are two very different things, but the one thing that makes them come together is the fact that poetry tells a story. And when you're on stage, you're telling a story.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Welcome to Voices of the Future. I'm Stuart Kestenbaum. In this series, I'm interviewing young writers and poets from Maine, all of whom have participated in programs of The Telling Room, a nonprofit writing center in Portland. The Telling Room's mission is to empower youth through writing, and to share their voices with the world. All of the authors in the series are featured in A New Land, an anthology of 30 poems written at The Telling Room. When I read or hear the work of these writers, I am moved by their enthusiasm, skill, and courage. Some of them were born in Maine, others have come here from Africa and the Middle East. All speak with urgency about their lives and their futures.
In this episode, I'm talking to two poets, Missouri Alice Williams, and Abie Waisman. First you'll hear my conversation with Missouri, and then I'll be talking to Abie. Missouri Alice Williams graduated from Deering High School. Now she's a student at Southern Maine Community College and she runs her own business teaching music to children. In this episode, Missouri reads her poem, “A Little Secret,” which has been published in two books from The Telling Room. Then we talk about how music and theater inform her writing.
Missouri Alice ...: Missouri Alice Williams, “A Little Secret.”
There was this girl I knew.
She wasn’t very nice.
I met her in high school,
and all I can remember her doing
is slithering that cigarette out of her mouth
and going pffffffffff
and blowing a little secret
to the boys.
She had blond curly hair
and then
the next day
she had black curly hair.
But
the thing I remembered the most
is that
whenever she would take her leather jacket off
all you would see
were these huge things
and all the boys would go,
“Yahoo.”
Stuart Kestenbaum: So when did you write that poem?
Missouri Alice ...: I was about 13, 15, somewhere in my teens. I just turned 27 back in August.
Stuart Kestenbaum: So do you remember, when you read this, do you remember…”
Missouri Alice ...: I do, actually I do remember being published in Climbing Trees, The Telling Room's very first book, that I was published in, and I do remember reading it to my parents the first time I wrote it.
Stuart Kestenbaum: The topic of the poem, the tone of voice and everything, is like a pretty revealing thing as a young teen to go say, "Hey, mom and dad, I want you to read this poem about what school’s like.”
Missouri Alice ...: Actually, to be quite honest with you, the girl in the poem isn't a real person. So I never really actually had a girl who went to my high school who was like that. I actually saw a girl on the street. She was wearing a leather jacket and she had blonde curly hair and she was smoking a cigarette, and that's where I actually got the inspiration. And then I figured, well, I might as well just put her in high school, cause I know a lot of high school girls… some are smokers and wear a leather jacket and can be a little bit of a badass. So I just started jotting down some ideas and eventually I just came up with the poem, and then I read it to my parents because before dinner every night, we would read a poem, and I would read poems of my own, poems that I had written. And they loved that one. They thought it was great. And they're asking me, “Where did you get the idea?” And they were pretty shocked themselves that I had come up with that at the age that I was.
Stuart Kestenbaum: There’s a way somebody might say, "Here's the thing I saw. I have to write what I saw," or the other thing is, "I've seen a lot of things. I'm going to make something out of things I've seen,” which is what you did, which is not true and that it didn't happen, but it's true in that it reveals a teen truth. So tell me about reading poems with your family.
Missouri Alice ...: Both my parents were very into listening to Garrison Keillor read poems on the radio and they'd both listened to it while taking my brother and I to school. And so I would hear him, Garrison, on the radio. I would listen to the poems that he would read and how he would read it and how detailed they were and how powerful they were. And I thought it was so great because I'm an actress and I'm also a singer, and poetry to me sounds a lot like music. I wanted to make something of my own, make a poem of my own. So I just started writing and eventually I came up with “A Little Secret.” Well, the original title is “Cigarettes.” My parents really encouraged me to submit my poetry and get people's feedback and see what others think because that's really how you become a great writer.
Stuart Kestenbaum: So how does music and theater inform your poetry, or vice-versa?
Missouri Alice ...: Music and theater is the arts. And the way I look at poetry is, I see it as an art. When you're on stage, you're telling a story. A poem is telling a story. They're one in the same thing. So, if you took a poem like “Cigarettes,” and you really looked at it and read it, you'd see that it's a story about this girl. And you could very well act it out. You could put on a leather jacket, you could put on a wig, be that girl, try to get inside of that character in the poem “Cigarettes.” And that's one of the main reasons why I love poetry so much is because you're able to express yourself in the same way that you're able to express yourself on stage.
With my poetry, I'm definitely quieter, but also, I'm more judgmental, I would say, than I am onstage. And I kind of, I don't know as to whether or not say I insult my characters, but I just make people look not the way they really are. So in my poetry, I kind of turn people, in a way. Stage life with me and then my poetry life are two very different things, but the one thing that makes them come together is the fact that poetry tells a story. And when you're on stage, you're telling a story.
Stuart Kestenbaum: And when you're writing, it sounds like you really go inside your characters that you create.
Missouri Alice ...: I really try and give a lot of detail and make it as powerful and meaningful and really give it some body because a lot of the poems that you're going to listen to are just kind of, I don't want to say boring, but they don't have as much spark.
Stuart Kestenbaum: What’s the indicator to you that a poem has spark?
Missouri Alice ...: The indicator is really the beginning because if you start a poem with, "It was by the sea,” or if you started a poem with, "Lightning hit the shore,” which one is more spark? It was by the sea, or lightning hit the shore? Lightning hit the shore. That's like a real eye-opener spark, oh my gosh, we're in for it now.
Stuart Kestenbaum: And how does it sustain its spark all the way through?
Missouri Alice ...: If you're going to start a poem with “lightning hit the shore,” you got to make it big. You gotta be really creative and really elaborate and put some great sounds and everything in there. You really want that poem to have a lot of power and meaning and spark.
Stuart Kestenbaum: But this is really the only poem of yours that I know, but would you say that your poems deal with kind of an inner emotional environment? Is this typical?
Missouri Alice ...: There's definitely a pattern with my poetry. It's always about people because I don't have a car. I take the bus and then I also spend, I have family who live in New York, New York City. So I've spent a lot of my childhood in New York and taking subways and walking around. So I'm always looking at people. And when I am on the Metro bus, I keep a notebook and I will write down the kind of people who I see. So then that gives me inspiration to write a poem.
Stuart Kestenbaum: So what are you writing now?
Missouri Alice ...: During the pandemic in the quarantine, I was living in this apartment building that was right by the old Nathan Clifford School and they have a playground in the back. So I would go to the playground and I would study and kind of watch these mothers and fathers who were letting their kids play on the playground. And I would write down the things I saw and noticed about them. So that's where I was getting all of my inspiration and everything during the quarantine because there really was nobody else to look at.
Stuart Kestenbaum: You're constantly observing…
Missouri Alice ...: I'm very observant. I like to observe and I am very good at reading people.
Stuart Kestenbaum: And you're teaching now. What do you teach?
Missouri Alice ...: I am a aftercare teacher at St. Bridget School here in Portland. I am still in college. I go to Southern Maine Community College, and I am getting my degree in child development so that I can teach, be a real teacher in the classroom and teach English or music or whatever. On top of doing the aftercare, I'm also starting my own business.
Stuart Kestenbaum: And what is that?
Missouri Alice ...: I have created a masterclass music program directed toward preschool and elementary school children, basically teaching a child either about the fundamentals of music, which is really how to read music, the first step, or else it's teaching them how to use their vocal chords without straining their voice, or it's teaching them how actors think, what it means to be an actor. And so I made Facebook page, I've got brochures, I've got business cards and I'm hoping to put it out there. I would definitely say it's been a little bit of an emotional outlet. I've definitely had my hard days and occasionally I will take my anger or my frustration out by writing a poem. I would say it's definitely my other form of therapy besides being on stage and singing and all that, because I'm able to write down my thoughts and my opinions without offending someone, because I'm pretty much turning that person into a character. Turning that person around.
Stuart Kestenbaum: That was Missouri Alice Williams. Now, my conversation with Abie Waisman. Abie is a student at Waynflete School. In this episode Abie and I talk about the connection between architecture and haikus. First, he reads his poem, Santa Rosa, which he wrote at The Telling Room's after school program, Writer's Block.
Abie Waisman: “Santa Rosa” by Abie Waisman.
The outgoing orange of wildfire
Creeps toward Cedar Mountain,
A blood orange blaze
Slithering up the hill,
Snatching at a big, blue
House, chomping it away,
Then working down the slope.
A golden straw appears, drinks up the blaze,
And releases tide pool wonder water.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Thank you. When did you write that poem?
Abie Waisman: I wrote it in 2018, I think.
Stuart Kestenbaum: How old are you now?
Abie Waisman: 13.
Stuart Kestenbaum: So you were 11. Do you remember writing the poem?
Abie Waisman: Yeah, I do. I was in the Writer's Block Telling Room program.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Tell me about when you wrote this poem. What were you thinking about?
Abie Waisman: I learned about wild fires in California a few days before, so I was just thinking about that. I imagined like a lot of colors and I imagined a house on a hill, like when the sun was setting.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Tell me about the golden straw.
Abie Waisman: I was just picturing something that would save the fire from destroying the house.
Stuart Kestenbaum: When you were thinking about the fires, how did you find out about them? Just on the news?
Abie Waisman: Yeah, at my school, I think I heard a few of my friends talking about it.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Did you see images before you wrote it? Like, you were watching some on television, or…?
Abie Waisman: Yeah, I looked up some images so I could picture how it would look and then I didn't have a title for the poem at first. I didn't know what to call it. So then I looked up the recent fires in what city it happened, so I titled it “Santa Rosa” because it happened in that city in California.
Stuart Kestenbaum: It's so visual. It's almost like a painting.
Abie Waisman: Yeah. It's like a painting through words.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Do you do any painting or artwork?
Abie Waisman: Yeah, I do art. I like drawing and painting.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Did you read other poems like this when you were...?
Abie Waisman: Yeah. I think four or five other poems about this length, but they were about other topics. I think I had one about coconut cream pie. I used to love that.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Do you still like it?
Abie Waisman: Yeah. I still like it. I haven't had it in a while. The best part's the cream in the middle. I really like cream.
Stuart Kestenbaum: What were the other problems about that you wrote?
Abie Waisman: I think I wrote a couple about cities, a couple of haikus about cities, cause I like architecture and urban planning and cities. I'm interested in that. I think I wrote one for a prompt. It was a special place in Portland, in the Old Port, that feels like it's away from the city. And I wrote about this little alleyway. It was off Commercial Street. It was like between Fore Street and Commercial Street.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Did you go there to write about it or did you have it in your mind?
Abie Waisman: Yeah. We walked around the neighborhood and then when I got back, I wrote about it.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Do you think you want to be an architect when you grow up?
Abie Waisman: Yeah. I definitely want to be an architect. I do a lot of drawing of cities and stuff. I do some programs or are there is this video game where you could design buildings too. I do that, too. It's a game. And you could design the buildings and you move around with your mouse and keyboard.
Stuart Kestenbaum: What kind of buildings do you design?
Abie Waisman: Sometimes I like to design skyscrapers and then sometimes just like to design shorter buildings, but also urban buildings, or sometimes I just like to design houses.
Stuart Kestenbaum: So when you walk around Portland, do you think about how it's put together?
Abie Waisman: Yeah, I think about that a lot.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Have you written about it?
Abie Waisman: I've read a lot about New York because my grandparents live there and I go up to New York a lot, few times a year. I once wrote this story, I think it was about this guy who went to Ellis Island, a boy who just immigrated and lived on the Lower East Side in New York, but I didn't really continue from there. It was kind of short.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Yeah. Have you been to Ellis Island?
Abie Waisman: Yeah, I have.
Stuart Kestenbaum: What'd you think of that?
Abie Waisman: I thought it was really cool cause my grandmother's grandparents immigrated through there.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Where did they come from?
Abie Waisman: They came from Italy.
Stuart Kestenbaum: And you said you wrote some haikus, too?
Abie Waisman: Yeah. I liked writing haikus cause you could just fit like so much, you could picture so much in so little writing.
Stuart Kestenbaum: It's the poetry, and it's also almost design because you have a real limitation. What kinds of things did you write about when you wrote haikus?
Abie Waisman: Yeah. I remember once I wrote one about waves at the ocean. I thought that it was something that you could picture very well if you described it in your head. When I'm not writing, I just think about some syllables and I just try to remember when I start writing.
Stuart Kestenbaum: Voices of the Future is hosted and conceived by me and produced by Josephine Holtzman and Isaac Kestenbaum at Future Projects with help from Carly Peruccio. The music in this episode is by Jordan Kramer. The series is made possible by the Academy of American Poets with funds from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. To learn more about The Telling Room and its programs, visit tellingroom.org. I'm Stuart Kestenbaum. Thanks for listening.