T.S. Elliot Prize

Greetings,

Brian Turner is one of ten major poets shortlisted for the T.S. Elliot Prize on January 23rd and 24th. Readings will be held at the Royal Festival Hall in London.

Brian's recent book, Phantom Noise, was published last April by Alice James Books. It continues his poetic journey begun with Here Bullet about his time and experiences in Iraq. 

We met by chance in Cambodia last February on a boat exploring a floating village. Delightful. 

Poetry Book Society 

Metta.

 

Brian Turner, poet

Greetings,

I had the pleasure of meeting Brian in Siem Reap in February. We shared the day and stories. more...

His first book, Here Bullet is now followed by Phantom Noise.

Here Bullet has sold 25,000 copies, excellent for a book of poetry. It's available through Amazon.

Here's a link to a recent piece about Brian and his new poetry book published by Alice James Books. more...

"We've reached the line of departure," Turner wrote in one new poem. "So lock and load, man. From here on out we are on radio silence."

Metta.

 Fire, heat, experience, time, memory, write, revise = poem

Coincidence Plus

Greetings,

Coincidence: an event that might have been arranged although it was really accidental.

Two days ago I was waiting for Christina, a 50-year Belgium born French teacher currently teaching at John Hopkins in Baltimore for a day trip to a floating village and forest near Tonle Sap Lake. She'd suggested the idea the previous evening before returning to ice and snow with limited visibility after visiting her daughter in Laos and seeing Angkor Wat.

Kunn, the owner of Jasmine Lodge, walked up to the table with a man.
"He is going with you." "Great," I said, and we introduced ourselves, "Hi, I'm Brian." "Nice to meet you."

A soft spoken man with piercing eyes and gentle manner, laughing, Brian explained his family history. "This is the short version of a long story."

"My grandfather's father came from Switzerland. He was a preacher. He was persecuted and escaped to Italy. He returned and was beheaded. His son took up the cause and was also persecuted. He escaped to Holland. His family eventually moved to England, then Scotland, then Ireland. During the potato famine they managed to get to New York and settled in Arkansas. It was the Civil War and life was hard. They moved west and eventually settled in Fresno, California where I was raised."

We rolled through the flat countryside and reached the end of a long bumpy dusty road where we jumped on motorcycles to reach boats moored in shallow water. We left land, gliding through marshes toward the Kampong Pluck Village. Christina asked Brian about his life.

"I am a poet," he said, " and I am traveling the world for a year on the Amy Lowell Traveling Scholarship award."

Hearing this I turned in surprise. "What is your last name?"

"Turner," he said.

Mr. Brian Turner. I laughed. "Sure! I know you. Last October when I lived in Ha Noi I read your Home Fires blog post on The New York Times after you visited the Bedlam hospital in London. I wrote a piece about my becoming a ghost after returning from Vietnam. Your essay generated many comments from a diverse range of voices; veterans from all the wars, health care professionals, and the public. It was great."

"It's important to give these people voices," he said.
"I wrote seven poetry books before submitting Here Bullet."

Over lunch he talked about his book, Here Bullet," published by Alice James Books. Brian served a year tour in Iraq and returned to the states in 2004. "I wrote the poems in Iraq. I worked from my notebooks to create the manuscript from November through March, 2005. I submitted it. It won the Beatrice Hawley Award among others. 

"Later, an anonymous person nominated me for the Amy Lowell award. There were 360 poetry books in the competition. One day I received a phone call from the law offices representing the estate. They said my book was selected for the Amy Lowell Scholarship. I was amazed."

Brian received his MFA in writing from the University of Oregon. I also graduated from the UO. Another small coincidence. 

"You're a famous poet!" I said. "Congratulations! And here we are, two writers, two veterans, both graduates of the University of Oregon, meeting on a small boat near a floating village in Cambodia. Long live the creative geniuses!"

Brian reached Cambodia via England, Switzerland, Italy, Turkey and Thailand. His second book of poetry, entitled Phantom Noise, will be published this April.

The three us enjoyed a fine day sharing stories, exploring the village, local primary school, delicious seafood along the river, and gently traversing the amazing water world forest. 

So it goes in the world of joyful coincidence.

Metta.

Brian Turner, right. Two traveling writers and explorers in Kampong Pluck village, Cambodia.

  Explore a natural Impressionist painting.

Bedlam and Healing

Greetings,

The NYT is featuring a blog called Home Fires. It concerns American veterans and their post-war life. I posted a small contribution concerning my adjustment after Vietnam referencing my novel.

Brian Turner,  an Iraq veteran and poet of a book entitled, "Here Bullet," wrote a piece for the Home Fires section and included a prose poem. You may find it worth your time. Since then over 163 posts were made as readers contributed their ideas and perspectives on war, returning veterans, politics and the current situation.

Jeffery M. Hopkins, a veteran and author contacted me and sent along his website to review his book, "Broken Under Interrogation." You can download a free e-book or order a hard copy through Amazon. I was grateful to hear from him.

Here is a short part of Brian's poem. It is about healing.

"Medicine birds break open in orange and red. Medicine birds have eucalyptus leaves for feathers and bandage the air when they fly. Medicine birds fly through the windows in the head, impervious to glass. They are impervious to WAR and hiss and steam and vapor and combat and the circling lost.

"Medicine birds fly through the windows to land in our beds when we’re dreaming our circling dream of Divisadero and Fresno with its lost and circling WAR. Medicine birds have eucalyptus wings and when they fly in our beds they transform themselves into leaves and rain and lovers.

"The lovers in our beds are eucalyptus birds flying medicine through the windows in our heads. The lovers in our medicine beds fly eucalyptus through the circling loss. The lovers in our beds bring medicine to our lips and call it eucalyptus, call it love, call it leaves and rain for our exhausted souls."

Metta.

Pictures of deceased Vietnamese in Ba Da temple, Ha Noi.

A man prays.