I had hoped to attend vigil mass yesterday afternoon but the level of dysautonomia, pain, and fatigue I was having made it inadvisable. It was cold and I didn’t think that I could handle the amount of walking and being upright involved, even if I went to a nearby church rather than my own church which is a further drive.
Instead, I participated in an online mass through Heart of the Nation. While a local station televises the mass on Sunday, I was able to access it online on Saturday. One of my favorite homilists was presiding and viewing online gives a bit more time so I got to hear more music than in the televised version.
Back during my mother’s illness, she used to watch mass on television when she could no longer attend in person and visitors from the church would bring her communion from time to time. Eventually, I was given a pyx so that I could bring the Eucharist to her myself. It is mentioned in this poem, first published by Wilderness House Literary Review:
In my purse
cheap pens I won’t miss if they’re lost my wallet, heavy with too many coins ibuprofen for headaches a pack of tissues hair ties for windy days a dog-eared calendar my license to drive a crumpled shopping list emergency cough drops a pyx my favorite mechanical pencil, extra lead credit cards – insurance cards – loyalty cards a laminated prayer card from my mother’s funeral
One of the blessings of the pandemic shutdowns for me was the re-discovery of online or televised mass when I couldn’t attend in person. It’s comforting to have that alternative on weekends like this one.
I started Top of JC’s Mind in September, 2013, and, sometimes, I like to take another look at some of my older posts.
It’s an eclectic blog with lots of topics and you could rummage around in old posts, too, if you like.
Sometimes, I am looking back for specific topics or events. There are also threads that weave in and out over time.
For example, I wrote a lot of comments on the eventually successful campaign to keep shale gas fracking out of New York – which had a brief, ugly reprise in the more recent effort to add CO2 fracking to our state ban. There are also renewable energy posts, including posts on heat pumps, solar panels, and EVs. We are proud to be an electrified household powered by the sun!
There are poetry posts, including posts from my residencies with the Boiler House Poets Collective at the Studios at MASS MoCA which began in fall 2015.
I’ve written quite a lot of COVID/pandemic posts. I’m humbled that one of the local historical societies has been printing those posts to place in their archives for possible research in the future.
The most poignant posts for me are the ones that involve my family. I wrote about my parents in their final years. Those posts were helpful to me at the time as a way to process what was going on but are also good to look back on from time to time.
While I’m admittedly not a great photographer, I’ve tried to include some photos. It’s handy that, during the years of Top of JC’s Mind, we have had family living in Hawai’i, and later, London. Even an amateur can take decent photos in those settings. I also like to take photos in the western Massachusetts/Southern Vermont area where I lived as a child and teen.
So, I invite you to take another look at Top of JC’s Mind.
murdered poet gifts words crowds magnify Renee’s voice radiates Good
Sharing again the haiku I posted Monday about Renee Nicole Good, whose death at the hands of an ICE agent in Minneapolis has horrified millions in the United States and around the world.
murdered poet gifts words crowds magnify Renee’s voice radiates Good
After finding out the day after her murder that Renee Nicole Good was a poet, I woke up Friday morning with the idea for this haiku in my head. I worked on it and sent it to the nearly-impossible-to-make-the-cut Rattle Poets Respond, which requires submissions by Friday midnight that relate to news from the last week and were written in that time.
After the anticipated rejection arrived, I pondered whether to try another venue or publish it here. I had the rare opportunity to meet with the Grapevine Poets yesterday and decided that I should share it here so it would be available in a timely manner.
I used to meet with the Grapevine Poets for early-evening workshopping every other week but haven’t been able to for most of the last two years due to my health situation. Yesterday, we had an afternoon craft discussion, which I could manage because I could muster enough energy and brain power at that time of day.
During this time of health struggles, I haven’t been able to write poetry very often, so I’ve seized this opportunity. I like writing haiku and tanka and those forms hold the additional appeal of being very short, which matches my limited energy and ability to focus. I haven’t shown this to anyone so this is just coming from my own head and heart.
A feature of this haiku is that I chose to forgo punctuation and capitalization, other than Renee’s name. This gives the opportunity to read the lines with pauses in different places, which places emphasis on different words. It also makes this haiku particularly dense. I’m not sure if this works for other readers or not, but I would appreciate any comments that anyone might like to share.
Photo caption: Carol Mikoda reading from Outside of Time at the North Adams Public Library (photo by Mary Beth Hines)
When Kelsay Books published Carol Mikoda’s Outside of Time in October, she celebrated with a reading at the North Adams Public Library. Carol was in residence at the Studios at MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art) as a member of the Boiler House Poets Collective. Participating in the reading marking the tenth anniversary of the Boiler House Poets were fellow Kelsay authors Joanne Corey (Hearts), Jessica Dubay (All Those Years Underwater), and Mary Beth Hines (Winter at a Summer House), along with Merrill Oliver Douglas, Judith Hoyer, Kyle Laws, Deborah Marshall, Eva Schegulla, and Wendy Stewart.
You can read and hear more of Carol Mikoda’s work on her Substack, The Yellow Table.
When I wrote this post on the Boiler House Poets Collective‘s tenth anniversary reading (and my birthday), I fully intended to post another couple of times during the residency, but that didn’t work out, so this is my catch-up attempt to encapsulate the rest of the residency.
Sunday was a busy day. Leery of being in an enclosed space with lots of people for over an hour, I opted for online mass. I got the above-linked blog post out and worked on an alternate bio poem modeled after one Judy Hoyer had brought to a BHPC workshop session earlier in the residency. Instead of eating with the other poets at 1:00 – daily lunches are part of our residency package – I took my lunch down the block to Main St. to await the arrival of the Fall Foliage parade. Because it was bizarrely hot (mid-80s F./29 C), I decided to wear the T-shirt that daughter T had given me for my birthday which says “This heat wave was brought to you by Big Oil.” I found a place in the shade and ate my lunch, enjoying watching the crowd, especially the little ones, as we waited for the parade to reach us.
I had read a poem at the reading the day before contrasting the full-scale parades of the my childhood in the ’60s and ’70s with the very subdued parade of 2016 where there were very few spectators and almost no children, either watching or participating. I’m happy to report that the 2025 parade was much more vibrant, with more community groups represented, including a lot of youth groups, such as Scouts, dance troupes, and sports/cheer teams. I admit that the high school bands are still at least 50% smaller than when I was a student at Drury in the ’70s, but they may grow as these younger children reach high school in a few years. I did feel sorry for the bands in their wool uniforms and the uniformed fire fighters marching in that heat, while the spectators were wearing shorts and tees. I appreciate the revived community spirit and later had a conversation with a BHPC member who lives in North Adams about recent gains in bringing together the people who have lived in the area for generations and the more recent arrivals drawn by MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art) and the growing arts scene. I hope that spirit will continue to strengthen and make North Adams stronger for all the residents.
Later in the afternoon, we workshopped. I brought the alternate bio poem and was shocked that people enjoyed it. By nature, that kind of poem is more light-hearted than my usual work and I am not known for being witty or humorous, so I was happy I managed to pull it off. After that, we walked to dinner and then back to our apartment for evening conversation.
It turned out to be more than I should have attempted, especially with the hot weather and the busy day on Saturday. I had to scale back on my activity level for our final two days.
There were some highlights, though. I had a delicious breakfast on Monday morning with Cousin S at Renee’s Diner. Monday evening, we ate at Grazie in their new location. Most of BHPC’s welcome dinners on the first evening of residency had been held at Grazie when it was located on the ground floor of the apartment building we call home during our time in North Adams. We definitely wanted to visit their new home, which is larger and has a parking lot! After dinner, we had our planning meeting for next year and I was thrilled to know that all ten of us want to return in October, 2026. Exact dates still need to be scheduled by The Studios but it’s nice to know that we don’t have to do any recruiting over the winter.
A highlight of Tuesday was a morning concert that BHPC member Carol Mikoda offered during storytime at the North Adams Public Library. It was in the same room where we had given our reading, except with a colorful mat on the floor, perfect for all the bouncing, dancing, and crawling the little ones did in reaction to Carol’s singing, accompanied by her guitar. Many of the songs were original compositions and the adults present enjoyed her clever lyrics. Carol had another momentous event occur during the residency. Her newest book, Outside of Time, was released by Kelsay Books. Congratulations, Carol!
BHPC workshopping in bldg 34
Photo credit: Carolina Porras Monroy
Carolina Porras Mornoy, the new director of The Studios at MASS MoCA which hosts our residencies, took some photos of us in our beloved Boiler House at the museum and while we were workshopping. There will be an Instagram post coming next week featuring the Boiler House Poets Collective. The Studios are celebrating their tenth anniversary this month so it is especially fitting to have the tenth anniversary of the Boiler House Poets Collective as part of their observance. BHPC formed at the very first poetry workshop-in-residence that The Studios hosted in fall of 2015, facilitated by Jeffrey Levine of Tupelo Press. The poets hit it off so well that, even before that week finished, we were hatching plans to return, which we have done every year since.
I am the only “original” to make all the reunions so far. In 2020, when The Studios were closed for an extended period due to the pandemic, I took the opportunity to return to North Adams for a private writing retreat. You can read about that experience by checking out my August 2020 blog archive. MASS MoCA had re-opened by then with COVID protocols in place so I was able to spend time writing about the art there, while also visiting familiar places in the surrounding towns.
I am so grateful to the Boiler House Poets Collective, The Studios at MASS MoCA, the Museum itself, and the city of North Adams for ten years of welcome, sharing, and great experiences. Here’s to the next ten years – and beyond!
BHPC ’25 in the Boiler House at MASS MoCA
photo credit: Carolina Porras Monroy
As I wrote about here, I am in North Adams for the 10th anniversary residency with my beloved Boiler House Poets Collective.
It is unusually warm for early October this year, which is, unfortunately, riling up some of my health issues, but I did manage to spend some time in the buildings at MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art) yesterday. Although I wasn’t putting pressure on myself to write, I was so moved by the Ohan Breiding Belly of a Glacier exhibit that I sat in the gallery and drafted a poem about it. Bonus: the centerpiece of the exhibit is a film and then I was able to sit in the related exhibit room to write so I got to rest and not have to worry about keeping my balance for a long bit.
Ohan Breiding – Even the stones are alive (a letter to the future), 2024
I was able to participate in workshopping with the poets before spouse B came to pick me up for dinner and the evening with one of your high school friends who still lives in the North Adams area. B and daughter T came into town to be able to attend the special Boiler House Poets Collective 10th anniversary reading on Saturday.
I was a bit nervous about reading, as my health has kept me from doing it much over these last couple of years, so I practiced a bit more beforehand than usual. We were thrilled to be reading at the North Adams Public Library in their third floor community space, which is part of the original mansion that became the library in 1898.
Through the wonders of alphabetical order, I introduced the group with a brief history and then read the two North Adams-themed poems I had chosen. It was very cool that the podium we were using was a gift to the library in honor of a local poet, artist, and teacher, D. Patrice Bolgen, who passed away in 2021.
The reading was fantastic! It was so great to hear a sampling of work from all ten of us: Joanne Corey, Merrill Douglas, Jessica Dubey, Mary Beth Hines, Judith Hoyer, Kyle Laws, Deborah Marshall, Carol Mikoda, Eva Schegulla, and Wendy Stewart. It meant a lot to me to have B and T there for the reading. My poet-friends surprised me with a card and birthday flowers – along with the traditional singing of “Happy Birthday to You” – after the reading.
We were also thrilled to be able to present our gift to North Adams for ten years of hospitality to the Boiler House Poets Collective, a collaborative poem that you can read at the beginning of the post. Wendy Stewart read it as part of the thank yous at the reading and we gave it to people who were at the reading. A larger broadside version is our gift to the library, The Studios staff, and other officials who make our time here so joyous.
A collaborative poem is one that a group of poets write together. For this poem, each of us contributed several lines on the theme of praising North Adams which a smaller group assembled into the poem. We were happy to be able to craft a special gift to North Adams in honor of our tenth anniversary in residence with The Studios at MASS MoCA.
After lunch, I was able to do a revision of the poem I had drafted in the Breiding exhibit on Friday in time to bring it to our workshopping session. I was glad to have something to bring as I had thought I might not manage it until Sunday or Monday. Of course, that means I don’t have anything prepared for today yet, so I think it’d better close this post and get over to the Museum or my studio and work on something.
Or take a deep breath and remind myself that there is no pressure to bring something to workshop today. I am among trusted friends who will understand if today is not my day to share.
As you may have surmised from the post about our reading on this Saturday, I am once again in North Adams in residence with the Boiler House Poets Collective at The Studios at MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art).
This is the tenth anniversary year of the first poetry workshop-in-residence that The Studios offered within their opening weeks in fall 2015. I was just starting to publish poetry and only had the courage to apply because I had grown up in the North Adams area and thought I would feel more at thome there. That week was both daunting and wondrous. If you visit my blog archive for November, 2015, you can read about it in multiple posts, which manage to somewhat mask the terror of being thrown into the deep end that I felt at the time.
The saving grace, though, was my fellow poets, who were so welcoming and supportive. Even before we left the residency, we started to plan a return, and thus the Boiler House Poets Collective was born.
As one might expect, not all of our initial group of 9 was able to re-convene, so we invited poet-friends to join us. You can see our listing of poets for each year here. You may notice that there is no listing for 2020 as The Studios, understandably, were closed for an extended period because of the COVID-19 pandemic. Due to changes in the structure of The Studios, we now can accommodate ten members each year. Kyle Laws and I are the only “originals” in attendance this year, although we consider Jessica Dubey as an honorary original as she has been with us since 2016, our first official residency as the Boiler House Poets Collective.
My health challenges, while not as severe as they were during last year’s residency, are still impacting my energy and creativity, so I am trying to be gentle with myself and not create unrealistic expectations. My immediate focus is to make it through the reading tomorrow morning. Thanks to the wonders of alphabetical order, I will do the introduction and my poems first. Bonus: After that, I can relax and listen to all the rest of the work of my fellow BHPC poets without having to gear up to read.
I’m also excited because we will be unveiling a collaborative poem honoring North Adams as our gift to this special place that we have enjoyed so much. I will share it here on the blog at some point after the reading. I loved having a special tenth anniversary project and am thrilled that we will be able to offer it at our reading and as a special gift to the library, Studios, and other North Adams supporters as a broadside. There is also a smaller, printed version which we will have at the reading for any listeners who would like to have one.
In the spirit of not putting pressure on myself, today I plan to visit the museum and see what’s new. MASS MoCA does not have a permanent collection, so there are always new artworks to experience. There are also some exhibits that are long-term, so I will re-visit some of my old friends here, especially our namesake Boiler House. If I am lucky, something I see will spark a poem later in the residency. If not, I have some prior ekphrastic poems based on MASS MoCA art that could use revision. Or, maybe, there will just be some more blog posts.
For those in the North Adams, Massachusetts: Join the Boiler House Poets Collective for a special reading in honor of our tenth anniversary at the North Adams Public Library on Saturday, October 4, 2025 at 11:00 AM!
As promised, Samantha Terrell’s Felling Trees: Selected Poems 2000-2025 from Low Hanging Fruit Publishing is now available! You can order through Amazon or ask your favorite bookstore to order it for you.
The publisher describes the collection: “Felling Trees gathers twenty-five years of sharp, unflinching verse from Pushcart and Forward Prize-nominated poet Samantha Terrell. Known for her clarity of vision and emotional honesty Terrell charts the evolution of a voice both politically alert and deeply personal. With selections from acclaimed collections and anthologized work, this retrospective offers a resonant exploration of resilience, justice, and human connection.”
One of the things I most enjoy about Samantha Terrell’s work is her extensive use of nature imagery, which she brings to bear in conversation with our present day issues. Here is a sample of that from the collection:
Fourth of July at the Beach
Fireworks burst, then fall in glittery strands Like willow tree branches
Stretch to the earth – White phosphorous bursts –
Disappearing into Liquid blackness.
The rhythmic roar Of the ocean’s engine drones on –
A reliable backdrop; Steady slaps on a shore
That we, in ignorance Or arrogance,
Still dare to call America. Here, where
Colors rage against the sky, We wait to see
If this great experiment Can survive its newest threat
Of tyranny, And we
Can save us From ourselves.
***** Congratulations, Samantha, on your new collection! Thank you to Low Hanging Fruit for bringing it into print!
Joanne Corey 