Tiff Dressen : Process Note #34

The 'process notes' pieces were originally solicited by Maw Shein Win as addendum to her teaching particular poems and poetry collections for various workshops and classes. This process note and poems by Tiff Dressen are part of her curriculum for Maker, Mentor, Muse and her poetry classes at the University of San Francisco. Thanks for reading.

 

 

Many, many years ago in a San Francisco so far away, I was an aspiring poet standing in the checkout line at what we lovingly called the Freakway, the Safeway on Market and Church in SF. The person checking out my groceries looked at my name (my given name) on the receipt  “Tiffaney Dawn” and proclaimed, “Hey, your name means ‘manifestation of God at dawn’”. What a gift from a stranger. I’d never really thought about my name before (except that my mother must have had someone else in mind when she named me) and later learned that Tiffany comes from a tradition in the Greek Orthodox faith, of giving the name, Theophania (Θεοφάνια) to girls born on the Feast of Epiphany, January 6th. And, like so many Christian traditions, Theophaneia is rooted in pre-Christian life. In ancient Greece, Theophania was also a spring festival at Delphi, honoring the return of Apollo from his winter residence in Hyperborea, the apogee of which was a display of an image of gods to worshippers, tucked away in a sanctuary. Sound tantalizing?

I return, however, to January 6th, Twelfth Night, the beginning of Mardi Gras season, Three Kings’ Day, when the Magi finally arrive to see the baby Jesus–the great reveal. I’ve since adopted January 6th as my personal, informal Feast Day. And, for several years now, I’ve been honoring that day by writing a poem. There’s a growing collection of these “Feast of Epiphany” poems. Here is one that began simply, at the window, then pulled me across the sky:

Poem for Epiphany #3
          (for Colleen Lookingbill)

 

Ruby crowned

kinglets dash

and flit near

our window

I watch the fiber

optic angel

of death  (yes, that’s

what you called it)

lowered to the

sidewalk men

in their buckets

above yawp

stare at the

sky message from

a friend appears “I will

always miss her,

though now she feels

far away (in

another part

of the galaxy)”

I want to write

a poem for the

songbird fever

dream set in

tiger pose poem

for “the neutral eye

of heaven” for the

sun at 200 kilometers

per second poem

for the solar system

orbiting the milky

way every 230

million earth years

pulling this poem

along with it

singing the black bar

below the wingbar

bringing myrrh to

mortality scented

olive-green carried

in the claws.

Or, more recently, this poem dedicated to the spirit of the poet Ted Berrigan and his sonnets:

  dear ted, good morning, it’s
  4:30am Feast of Epiphany
  season of lint and wet
  lemons I woke to feed most
  insatiable of felines though
  she still sleeps I have been
  trained to anticipate phantom
  hunger season of spectral
  scratching when she eats she
  purrs loudly my small
  Neptune dark passage
  chaperone in the wind
  the camellia brushes against
  the house pink blooms startle.

All this to say, I write for, with and among the seasons. The calendar (and the moon) cycles serve as a guide. This is how I track time with poems (devotions) to the month in which they were written or, at least, started. I should say I am compelled to track time with poems. Here is a poem situated in Oakland during the celebration of Tết and the Lunar New Year.

Poem for February: cityscape
        (for Linda Norton)

I watch the large, intelligent birds touch down on severely pruned sycamores. They lift off again. Crepuscular sky gyrations. They are at play. This shiny black cloud of witnesses swirling around me as if to say, “ I can’t believe you’re still alive.” Neither can I. And I take on a deeper indigo expansively, explosively or maybe privately, as a buckwheat volunteer or bracken by the tracks.

                                         Fire petals
                                         pink flames in
                                         cracks of
                                         sidewalk Oakland
                                         tiger’s eyes
                                         closer in light
                                         of the moon.

You can find more poems dedicated to the months/seasons in Tiff Dressen’s most recent book of poems, Of Mineral from Nightboat Books (2022) along with an interview with Nightboat Books Fellow, Snigdha Koirala, here and another interview by poet Della Watson here. Also, do yourself a favor and check out Lorine Niedecker’s calendar poems.

Tiff Dressen's [photo credit: Kate Sims] latest book is Of Mineral (Nightboat Books, 2022). SONGS FROM THE ASTRAL BESTIARY (lyric& Press, 2014) is their first full-length collection of poetry. They enjoy spending time with their felines, chasing wildflowers, and outdoor adventuring with their partner.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Maw Shein Win's most recent poetry collection is Storage Unit for the Spirit House (Omnidawn) which was nominated for the Northern California Book Award in Poetry, longlisted for the PEN America Open Book Award, and shortlisted for CALIBA's Golden Poppy Award for Poetry. She is the inaugural poet laureate of El Cerrito, CA. Win's previous books include full-length poetry collection Invisible Gifts and two chapbooks, Ruins of a glittering palace and Score and Bone. Win often collaborates with visual artists, musicians, and other writers and her Process Note Series features poets on their process. She teaches in the MFA Program at the University of San Francisco. Along with Dawn Angelicca Barcelona and Mary Volmer, she is a co-founder of Maker, Mentor, Muse, a new literary community. Win’s full-length collection Percussing the Thinking Jar (Omnidawn) is forthcoming in Fall 2024. mawsheinwin.com