“Kim Noriega on Naming the Roses”
Maureen Alsop asked poets to identify a poem that they feel captures the essence of their poetry in a particular collection, aka their ‘signature’ poem. Here the poets explore Kim Noriega’s “Redbird”.
Redbird
who loves to sing from the blue mountain spruce
who loves to sing to the sprouting grass moon
who needs to sing to the stars as they fade
who needs to sing to her heart as it blooms
qui aime chanter en français des fois
who always will sing to the eagle in flight
who always will sing to the gibbous frost moon
who sang monarch butterflies into the sky
who longs to sing to the wolves as they dream
who never will sing to the rope or the bullet
who sings for you still.—Kim Noriega
MA: Please share and tell me how you selected this 'signature' poem to capture the book's essence?
KN: I chose the poem "Redbird" for the back of the book because it gives the reader a glimpse of the book's unabashed joy and beauty:
who loves to sing from the blue mountain spruce
who loves to sing to the sprouting grass moon
while simultaneously foreshadowing the darker aspects of the book:
who never will sing to the rope or the bullet.
Ultimately, it reveals an enduring love and resilience that I think is the essence of the Naming the Roses:
who sings for you still.
Also, I love the way its title complements the beautiful red book cover.
Bonus: A few “secret game of poetry” bits about the poem:
My dad used to call me “Redbird” when I was a little girl.
The sprouting grass moon refers to April, my daughter’s birth month.
The eagle in flight refers to my husband, Ernie.
The gibbous frost moon references my poem “The Sky, My Father” and hence refers to my dad.
MA: What would you most like for a reader to know about this collection? and/or what influenced your writing these poems?
KN: I have developed a reputation, which I must say I’m quite proud of, for writing unflinchingly about the dark side of human relationships—family and male-on-female violence, the aftermath of suicide, addiction—and many of the poems in Naming the Roses plumb the depths of those themes. However, it’s important to me that readers also know that, as Sarah Luczaj remarks of the collection:
[It] does not shrink from beauty either, a subtle beauty, infused with a sense of familiarity that makes her words feel like home.
Naming the Roses doesn’t begin and end with brutality. I’d say the collection transcends brutality, blossoms from it, transforms it into something beautiful.
MA: I love process, please tell me about your writing practice? Where is this collection leading you next, what are you working on now?
KN: I’m happiest when I can get into a groove of reading and writing every morning, but I’m not a disciplined person and my generative writing practice tends to wax and wane. I’ll go for long periods of time without writing anything new at all, or just writing drafts in notebooks and putting them aside indefinitely. On the other hand, I am a very hard worker so when I set my mind to work on a project, I’ll write for hours, for days—I barely come up for air. Working intensely is extremely satisfying to me.
As for what’s next … I feel excited to be in a phase of my life when I can take some time to explore and experiment. I retired from a rewarding but demanding career several years ago and then I focused on completing Naming the Roses which took an enormous output of energy. I’ve needed to recharge a bit but now that I’ve been doing readings for the book, I’m finding that I feel inspired by hearing other people’s work, being with other poets again. I’ve written some new poems that I’m happy with and I’ll just see where they lead.