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Creek Lover – A Chapbook!

25 Oct

Cover image of Creek Lover, chapbook. Image includes two copies of the book, with a picture of a creek dock and the marsh on the cover.

This past month I self-published my first Chapbook! It’s called Creek Lover and it’s a collection of poems centered around the salt marsh of Pawleys Island, SC. The book is entirely hand-made, lovingly printed, designed, and bound by me!

I began writing the first poems in this collection in 2013, then later in 2017 they started taking form as a manuscript while participating in the O, Miami Chapbook Workshop in late 2017.

Two years later, the manuscript is now a shiny chapbook, self-published, hand made, and straight from my heart to yours.

Want to order one? They are only $10 (shipping included). You can send me the funds via Paypal or Venmo. All the details, plus some poems from the book can be found here.

Here are some comments I’ve received so far:

“Thank you for offering your poems to the wider world. They are a gift. Your images are powerful reminders of the splendor of the coast, the marsh birds & live oaks. What stirring words to warm me on this chilled mid-Western autumn day!” — C. Wheeler

“What a delight!” — J. Schledorn

“Your book is beautiful.” — S. Ahrens

“I love the personification, love the eroticism, love the glimpse at nature’s many faces, and loved the repetition of green-gold across several of your poems.” — A. Sehnaoui

Away with Words

4 Mar

the words came over the mountains
as we rumbled around blind curves
on the dirt roads of the Andes
heart lodged high in my throat
trying to read a book, needing some air
because it all took my breath away

the words came over the mountains
the ones I could not capture
with the short lens of my Pentax
the sparkle and hues of the valleys
majestic yet humble pastoral scenes
punctuated by colorful forms with bent backs

the words came over the mountains
honking their horns before hairpin curves
casting a golden light on the clouds at my feet
nestling in the furrows of the patchwork hills
clinging to rocks like lichens above the treeline
catching my eye with your smile from the backseat

I was unaware, but those words became everything
everything I wanted to capture
everything that touched my soul
everything that made me yearn
everything that made my heart sing
everything I wanted to share
everything that brought me to my knees
everything about you
inspiring everything that was me
and wanting, wanting
to somehow give it back
wanting to whisper it in your ear
but never knowing how

Today, Anthony Desmond over at Dverse challenged us to write a poem  that is influenced by certain times in your life that made you the poet you are today. I can trace poem-writing to when I was 8 years old, but the desire and need to write poetry sprang up somewhere in my mid-teens. I can remember distinctly wanting to express things in a way that I had not figured out yet. So, this poem is about that time in my life, specifically about a trip through the Andes, or rather several trips that my mind has put all together into one.

“The secret of it all, is to write in the gush, the throb, the flood, of the moment… by writing at the instant the very heartbeat of life is caught.” – Walt Whitman

*Note about the photos: I originally posted a pic of my brother and I at Ingapirca because I thought that all of my other photos of the Andes were all gone. Well, the very next day after I posted this poem, while I was going through stuff, preparing to move, I found this set of photos that are all from that very trip that my poem is about! Serendipity 🙂

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Summer Love

9 Aug

They met in the summer,
on the south end of Pawleys Island
where the waves slap high-fives
and the north wind runs free.
And on one star-filled night,
while the moon shone bright,
the green marsh fell deeply
in love with the blue sea.

You could feel it everywhere,
their love was swirling in the air.
She loved his blue intensity,
he loved her green positivity.
It was right as the tides,
so it came as no surprise,
when the dashing blue groom,
took the luminous green bride.

For the great wedding feast
came the turtles, from the east
and other privileged guests,
including the egrets from the west.
The mullets came from up north,
a procession of pelicans from down south,
and the blue creek crabs
just popped in, unannounced.

“I will love you when it storms,
and when its sunny, I will rejoice.”
“I will provide a place for you,
I will listen for your voice.”
“And whether the tides are high or low,
no matter how the wind blows,
we will ride it all together
so our precious love grows.”

As long as time will be,
every year on Pawleys,
all shall celebrate the day
the green marsh
married the blue sea.
Because Forever, the blue sea
will run his gentle fingers through her hair.
Forever, the green marsh
will whisper sweet nothings in his ear.
And when only sand and shells remain,
the air will still smell like champagne.

South end of Pawleys Island, where the marsh waters meet the sea.
South end of Pawleys Island
Sunrise on the south end of Pawleys Island
Sunrise on Pawleys Island
Green marshes of Pawleys Creek.
Pawleys Creek.
Marsh grasses of Pawleys Island.

Weddings

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Nantucket

11 Jul

A congregation of clouds,
protective mothers, hover over
stoic buildings, neatly arranged
cobbled into place by time
and if the sun dares to shine
you greet it, with an air of indifference
because the flowers will still burst
jubilantly, from their window boxes.

The sea gives, the sea takes away
Nantucket has weathered it all
and stalwart, it continues
living, breathing history
with arrivals and departures
marking the days, because
in this far away place
nature bats last.

Nantucket cottages
Weathering together
Boat basin
Oyster shucking shacks
Dripping with roses
Cedar & blooms

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Goodbye, Jersey

17 Apr

Goodbye, Jersey

(inspired by Goodnight, Moon, by Margaret Wise Brown.)

The sun is high
The air is still
And everything that will be,
will.
Cars racing on the GSP
and the lady conductor asking, “tickets, please.”

Summer, trees, hydrangeas
Cool ocean breeze and jughandles
Every town in descending order,
and memories calling
from every corner

Goodbye, Jersey
Goodbye, Shore
Goodbye all the Wawa stores

Rt 35 & 36
Radio stations’ eclectic mix
Beginning in Red Bank, on the Navesink River
and traipsing around the state together,

Gingerbread houses in Ocean Grove
Twin Lights beaming from above,
Like an old, cherished love,
“You have not changed!”
(never will!)
Yet, the train moves forward, still.

Goodbye, Jersey
Goodbye, Al
Goodbye horses, farms, and cows
Goodbye ocean breeze, and salty air
and Jersey Girls everywhere.

Copyright 2012 Lupe Eyde-Tucker. All rights reserved.

Ocean Grove, NJ

Ocean Grove, NJ

I did not write ‘Goodbye, Jersey’ during NaPoWriMo 2013. I wrote it last summer after visiting New Jersey, specifically MoCo, and reconnecting with friends and places where I grew up. It was a great trip, and on the last day, as I was waiting for the train from Red Bank to take my mother and I to Newark Airport, all of the sudden the first lines of this poem just popped into my head, and I started writing it, literally on the train schedule. As we took our seats, verses and phrases kept coming to me, and I pulled out my notebook and started just writing it all out. It was a spontaneous poetic moment which I am still awed by. A couple of months later the entire state was slammed by Superstorm Sandy, and Monmouth County was devastated.

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