Femficātiō Perspectives: Pamela Plummer

Pamela Plummer is speaking…

“…some days it takes all of what we have
or dream to be inside
to lift the air

to braid a path bright
with our own custody
the wonder of sunlight steeped in the clearing…”

1. What was the first thing that you wrote that you really liked?

In third grade, I wrote a very simple poem.

It wasn’t so much the poem that I really liked, it was the feeling I had when I realized I could ply words between my fingers…

and make images and sound…

2.  Does your writing construct or deconstruct?

I’ll leave that for the critics to decide.

My work simply demands to be

free to be what it is.

The poetry of Pamela Plummer, “The High Priestess (for Nina Simone)” is found in the book Skin of Palms, 2004, Abebi Publishing. Photograph of Nina Simone. Layout C&F Publishing.

3.  If the world was less violent, would your writing be different from what it is today?

Yes.

I would paint even more…

and dance.

4.  What do you refuse to ignore?

I ask myself if the work is true, as far as my understanding of self and life.

What I understand changes with time, of course, but I have to know that

my words are true at the time I am writing.

I want music, texture, color, sound, rhythm, and sometimes… play.

5.  Why do you think you are a writer?

I don’t know…

I’m a visual artist and poet.

I respect the journey through words.

Tell us about the excerpt you’ve contributed.

This poem, Engagement of the Fire Signs is in my book, Skin of Palms, Abebi Publishing, 2004

Engagement of the Fire Signs

long time now
we speak of flame
and coming to the heart of matters

which has meant crackles and popping
limbs stretched
wanting    waiting for ink    or wings

some days it takes all of what we have
or dream to be inside
to lift the air

to braid a path bright
with our own custody
the wonder of sunlight steeped in the clearing

crisscrossing tracks and landings
crumbled stone     bleached wood
you emerge
djembe   and juju
tambourine   and shekere
a kora to cool the tongue

burn the kindling of this dry flat palm
make this spare space
insistent upon sound
rise a togetherness

The Butterflies was written while I was living back home in Buffalo, NY—probably during the winter months.

The Butterflies

When we burst from those cocoons
Beyond the heat and  passages blooming

Past the dung, waste
And half-dreams clinging like salt
To what would be an eye

Splintering silk      moving toward  what
we felt–
understood    somewhere
in the history
of  this reaching and becoming

Nancy Burns birth mandala courtesy of fertilesource.com

and setting free—

In the final pulse and push
To make sight

To know air and sun along
wings grown from disbelief

In the midst of all  heat and flames demanding
In the name of so many ascensions

After we made  that metamorphosis
From soft and hard to free

With the wind as our mother
How could we not fly?

—————————————————————————————————————————————————–

Genre: Poetry and Visual Art

Place on the Globe: Southeast U.S.

Where you can find Pamela’s writing: Amazon.com and Booksellers like Coal Rare Books and Gifts.

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