Here’s what Graphite has for Part of Me:
Erica Reid’s poem “Part of Me Hurtling Toward” uses a poetic form invented by Kat Lehmann. In Lehmann’s “sudo-ku” form, a 5 x 5 grid creates haiku both horizontally and vertically. Setting this kind of poem to music presents an inherent challenge: How should a composer represent the many ways to read such a poem, as well as its fractured nature?

 

In setting the poem, Dale Trumbore sees a mind trapped in questioning, which is reflected here in a restless piano accompaniment. Ultimately, this piece is about recognizing and naming all parts of yourself—the anxious and painful questions, yes, but also the quiet, intuitive voice that answers (“oh, I see her!”).

 

Purchase this piece for performance through Graphite Marketplace.

 

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STARFIELD

There is an uneasy peace between the stars.
Distance is never neutral—it is charged

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with a social anxiety. For want of touch
stars question their place, forget after months

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& decades & blips & eons whether
they are loved. They try to scootch together

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& leave tracks across the starfield, rough
scratches in the void that will not buff

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out. Stars send light like letters across the expanse
& as they stretch, the universe expands.

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Our telescopes are weak, plus we can’t hear
the sighs at night. Stars look so close from here.

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TRITINA FOR PATIENCE

Once, I thought I’d leave this world too soon.
I’d not yet learned to put reins on my gloom
& let it canter through impeccable gardens.

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A mind should be a forest, not a garden.
I once thought I would leave this world too soon
but now I braid the blue mane of my gloom

into diamonds of gloom, fishtails of gloom,
& clutch them as I trample through the gardens
that never suited me. I’m patient. Soon

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impatiens will spring from my garden, bright as gloom. Oh, soon.

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PART OF ME HURTLING TOWARD​​​​