Hi all, I’m Tammy. There are many, like me, who believe that writing is a vehicle of creating connections, to oneself and others. The sense of isolation diminishes, even disappears. We do not want to live a life in a vacuum. Robert Frost said, “A poem begins with a lump in the throat; a homesickness or a love sickness. It is a reaching-out toward expression; an effort to find fulfillment. A complete poem is one where an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words. ”Roger Rosenblatt once said, “We go through the arduous task of learning how to speak in order to tell the stories within.” The drive to say, “I am/was here” is hardwired in humans. This “drive” has been with us since we were aware of our “humanness.” The Indonesian handprints are at least 39,900 years old.

I am a believer that the creative process enables deeper critical thinking. It represents the highest level of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs; that being: self-actualization. There are many, like me, who write as a form of therapy; when the world does not make sense, when it is colder than icebergs, or when it shows a sign that there is hope. I hone the emotion in my personal lyrical poetry into a piece of highly polished art. The poem becomes a lantern for the reader, signaling someone understands and waits to embrace them.

I teach poetry because I know the healing power of words.

I know the human mind is poetic in nature. I know that with a handful of instruction and an armload of encouragement poems emerge from those who never thought they possessed the gift. I teach poetry because I understand the soul, in all of us, suffers and rejoices. I know the yearning to release/express. I, like my students, am like Keller, seeking the sight of words.

I have had the pleasure of serving as Suffolk County Poet Laureate (2009 – 2011) and the Long Island Poet of the Year (2017). I have devoted my adult life to poetry and having a location on Long Island that is open to anyone wishing to utilize it, is a vision forty years in the making that is now a reality that is the Long Island Poetry Literature Repository.

One of my most memorable experiences concerning poetry and its power is when I conducted “residency workshops” in the Suffolk County correctional facilities for five years. For the first three I would only hold workshops for the female inmates. One of the guards asked me to please include the male inmates. I relented and was ashamed after spending time with them. The men were in as much need to have a positive form of expression as the women. I was not, and still am not, Pollyanna about the inmates, but I also know the verse, “There but by the grace of God go I.”

In the fifth year I held workshops in two of Suffolk County facilities. I edited an anthology of their work, Finding Our Voices. Neither facility wanted to be associated with the other, one being the Riverhead County Jail and the other being the Day Jail in Hauppauge for drug and alcohol offensives. The Riverhead facility claimed that the day inmates in Hauppauge were nothing more than posers. The day inmates in Hauppauge said that the Riverhead inmates were all criminals. I found this separation of themselves from the other fascinating. I made sure each inmate received a copy of the anthology, which was partially funded by the Huntington Arts Council and BOCES.

The apex of my experiences, concerning the power of poetry, is the following story. Years ago, I had a poetry website. One of the contributors was a woman who I will call Mary. Her poems were getting darker and deeply depressing. I finally reached out to her and expressed my concern. She wrote back saying how she was an American stuck in Romania. She had sold all her belongings to join a man she had met online. He became abusive and broke her hand. She could not work, as she did not speak the language.

She said she had reached out to the United States Consulate; they would not help her. I asked if I could try to help her. Yes, she said. I called The Retreat, an organization that assists domestically abused women. They contacted the US Consulate on her behalf, next thing she and I knew, the consulate paid for her return ticket and The Retreat gave her shelter. A couple of weeks later I was the featured reader at a poetry reading in her area and asked if she would care to go. We met at a deli, as the location of the shelter was not to be shared. When she got in my car she said, “I’m scared.” Of what I asked. She replied of reading in public. I said, “After what you just went through, THIS is what you are scared of??” We both laughed. Several months later she moved to North Carolina to live with her sister. Many years later I worked at The Retreat as a Court Advocate.

I would like to think that poetry brought about what I mentioned at the beginning of this article: that writing is a vehicle for creating connections, to oneself and others. The sense of isolation diminishes, even disappears.

Tammy has earned her Ph.D. in Humanities & Culture in the Interdisciplinary Studies program at Union Institute & University. Her dissertation was: The Healing Power of Poetry. She teaches at Long Island University, at the C W Post campus, as an adjunct assistant professor in the departments of: English, Humanities, and Sociology. She is the Founder and President of Long Island Poetry & Literature Repository. She was the first female appointed to the post of Suffolk County Poet Laureate 2009-2011. She is the Editor of Long Island Sounds Anthology.

Some of her accomplishments: 2017 WWBP Long Island Poet of the Year; 2016 Charter Member of the Long Island Authors’ Circle; National Association Poetry Therapy Member (since 2015); 2012 – 2020 Poet-in-Residence Southampton Historical Museum; 2011 Nominated Pushcart Prize, “Beneath an Irish Sky” by Mobius; 2011 - 2014 Poetry Director of Youth Program in Ireland at the Gerard Manly Hopkins Festival; 2010 Mobius’ Editor-in-Chief Choice; 2009 Recipient of LIWG Community Service Award; Listed in Poets & Writers since 2006.

G&E In Motion does not necessarily agree with the opinions of our guest bloggers. That would be boring and counterproductive. We have simply found the author’s thoughts to be interesting, intelligent, unique, insightful, and/or important. We may not agree on the words but we surely agree on their right to express them and proudly present this platform as a means to do so.

Poems pop up unexpectedly. I find it’s better to allow than command their appearance. But I am required to put pen to paper or hover fingers above a keyboard and be still. The seeds for poems are in the wind, the trees, the dirt, the news, works of art, interactions with humans and other beings who catch my attention. Some poems wake me up in the middle of the night suggesting edits, additions, new directions.

I grew up in a house filled with books. My father was a singer, an actor and a sales executive and my mother was a drama major in college who became a high school English teacher and advisor to the Drama club. Both taught me to appreciate fine writing and the power of clear communication, which I suppose is what led me to study anthropological linguistics and then fall into a career in publishing.

I’ve always read much more prose than poetry, but my writing has taken the form of poetry — the free verse kind.

For that I have to thank my high school English teacher Arthur Smith, who gave me A Stone, A Leaf, A Door, a book of Thomas Wolfe’s gorgeous prose refashioned as poetry. And the more I write, the more I take to heart my college English professor William Gifford’s insistence on succinct and precise writing, no matter what form it takes.

Over the years, I’ve written poetry in cycles, with lengthy gaps between forays. A couple of decades ago, I shared some poems with friends. That gave me the courage to attend a Performance Poets Association open mic in Glen Cove, which led to opportunities to read as a featured poet at coffeehouse and bookstore events and then to a few acceptances for publication. I tried a poetry workshop but was too unsure of myself at the time to continue.

© Emily-Sue Sloane
*First published in* We Are Beach Glass, by Emily-Sue Sloane (2022)

I felt I needed to sort out what I wanted and needed from this creative process. I talked about it often with my wife, Linda Sussman, who is a singer and songwriter, and my brother-in-law, Scudder Parker, who is a poet. Was it enough just to write? Did I need to be published? To read in front of an audience?

At some point, life took over and I simply stopped writing. For a very long time.

A few years ago, after I retired from my day job in publishing, I revisited some of my old poems — so old that I first had to reformat the files on my computer or retype them altogether! I saw that some needed revising, and that was the beginning of my pathway back. I attended a poetry workshop at the local library and received a warm welcome there, as well as encouragement and suggestions of other workshops to check out. New poems started to flow. The weekly workshops drove me to keep writing.

I began to submit my work for publication. When the first acceptance during this phase popped into my email, Linda and I did our happy dance right in the middle of a Manhattan Starbucks, where we were killing time before a Sweet Honey in the Rock concert. Every acceptance since has elicited the same level of excitement!

My daily routine these days is to spend a few hours working on my poetry: writing, revising, submitting for publication, organizing, trashing. I attend two weekly writing workshops, a poetry appreciation meeting and occasional readings and open mics. One positive aspect of sheltering at home in a pandemic has been the accessibility of poetry events on Zoom.

I continue to explore what I enjoy about writing and what I want and need from the creative process — often wishing that I could make music or draw instead.

For me, writing is meditation. Sometimes it takes me to a deep place where time stops and words flow; other times my chattering mind churns up only garbage. I try to follow Naomi Goldberg’s advice in her book Writing Down the Bones to write, simply write, without judgment; write down the compost in order to get to what lives underneath.

Some poems appear on the page nearly finished; others are a struggle, forcing me to think more deeply about what I’m trying to say. Some require research and lengthy consultations with a dictionary or thesaurus. Some prompt me to write about the process itself.

I’m almost always surprised by the results.

Many people dislike editing their work; others never stop revising. I enjoy editing and continue to learn ways to improve, especially from other poets at my workshops. Like most poets, I’ve learned to “kill my darlings,” those metaphors, similes and phrases that the poet may love but that really don’t serve the poem. And I’m always working to tilt my writing more toward poetry than prose.

My wife is my first reader and best editor. She brings her musical and literary sensibilities to the page. If I initially resist her suggestions, I usually come to realize that she’s right.

I enjoy sharing my poetry, but I don’t like to boast about it. Social media provides an opportunity for the former but necessitates the latter. Submitting poems to journals, anthologies and contests is a lot like playing the lottery: It takes me from hope to disappointment and occasionally to joy — just enough success to keep me in the game. Reading poems to an audience is a more immediate and intimate way to share, even on Zoom, and the experience usually clarifies what does and doesn’t work as spoken word. But as an introvert, I admit those are the times I wish I had inherited my dad’s talent and delight in performing!

© Emily-Sue Sloane
*First published in* Shot Glass Journal (Muse-Pie Press), June 2020

Every day I worry that I will stop writing again. Until that happens, I am putting one word in front of the other, calling them to order and sending poems out into the world, where I hope they will resonate as true, providing solace for whatever’s ailing a reader or listener, and touching a funny bone or heart along the way.

Emily-Sue Sloane is a lifelong Long Islander who writes poetry to capture moments of wonder, worry and human connection. She is the author of We Are Beach Glass, a new full-length poetry collection (BookBaby, 2022). Emily-Sue has won first-place awards in poetry contests held by Calling All Writers, the Long Island Fair, Nassau County Poet Laureate Society, Performance Poets Association and Princess Ronkonkoma Productions, and she was a finalist in the Babylon Village Poetry Contest.

Additional publishing credits include print and online journals and anthologies: Amethyst Review; The Avocet; Bards Annual; Boston Literary Magazine; CHAOS: The Poetry Vortex; Corona, an anthology of poems; Escape, a CAW Anthology; Hope, a CAW Anthology; Front Porch Review; The Long Island Quarterly; Mobius; Muddy River Poetry Review; Never Forgotten: 100 Poets Remember 9/11; Panoply; Paumonok; Poeming Pigeon: From Pandemic to Protest; The Poet’s Art; PPA Literary Review; The RavensPerch; Shot Glass Journal; Suffolk County Poetry Review; Trees in a Garden of Ashes; and Walt’s Corner.

For more information, please visit emilysuesloane.com

The Power of Poetry

I teach poetry because I know the healing power of words.

Poetry’s Hold on Me