In Praise of More Important Things for Toni Morrison.

Praise the bonnet, the slit up her red skirt in a jazz club, the greased scalp and laid curl.

Praise the cracking voice calling from the kitchen at dawn.

Praise ruffle and tulle t-shirts and blow pops and knowing how to leave a hot comb on long enough to straighten but not scorch.

Praise ashy knuckles and aunties that warm them small patent leather shoes dragging on the sidewalk to Sunday school Praise the dancing tree and ghost.

Praise the uncles leg and how he forgets that limp every Sunday in the house of the Lord In praise of more important things Praise brown legs and tan palms.

Praise the audacity of kindness and hope and goodness.

Praise the sacred basement sweat and rub the weight of an overloaded family reunion cook out plate.

Praise every smack and licked finger and praise the skillet crock pot and baking pan soiled and piled up in every Labor Day kitchen sink.

Praise the hands that will clean them.

Praise the morning dweller in her lake cottage, recording all our unimportant things.

Praise her eyes and her hands and her pen.

Welcome to Michigan In Verse.

I'm Nandi Komer and I am the poet laureate of Michigan.

Michigan has some of the best poets in the world.

And so the Library of Michigan decided to restart the Poet Laureate program after a 60 year break.

One of my highlights of being Michigan Poet Laureate is I get to travel all over the state, both in the upper and lower peninsulas, to educate Michiganders about the joy of poetry.

In this series, you'll get to meet poets from all over the state as they share their own styles, rhythms and themes.

For some people, poetry is a scary thing, but I hope that after watching this series, you'll find something that speaks to you.

I truly believe there is a poem for everyone and I hope you find yours.

Up first, we have poet Alise Alousi.

Alise is an Iraqi American writer with deep roots in Michigan.

She is an award winning poet and was a 2019 Kresge Literary Arts fellow, with her work appearing in numerous journals and anthologies.

Alise works with organizations such as Alternatives for Girls Inside Out Literary Arts and the Arab-American National Museum.

Coming to you from the Fisher Building in Detroit, I present to you Alise Alousi.

My name is Alise Alousi and this is Self-portrait at 56.

I guess I found myself.

Music paused in the right square, growing bit of flesh murmuring above beltline and ah, these lines down the center of my face, eyes off kilter.

They say now there's no symmetry in space.

I relate.

Floating green earth.

I want to melt some days into a passing bus.

Once in Prague, I nearly died.

Felt the wisp of the tram at my neck.

So close my hair moved.

Daughter and husband stunned on the far curb.

Amazing really How little I still notice my surroundings most days.

Save the random like a handprint left on a wall.

Press me to say what the wall means to me and I can't.

Oh, my God, Alise, what a beautiful poem.

I mean, I am.

I feel so fortunate to be able to interview you for this series.

That poem.

It's the last poem in your first collection.

What to Count It's your first book and how you went about trying to, like, put together a collection Tell me about it.

Yeah, I mean, that's such a great question.

Thank you so much for having me, Nandi.

I'm really excited to have this conversation with you.

Yeah, because this is my first book and I was older when I published it.

It was quite a process and sort of a longer piece of it for me was figuring out the order of the book.

And I got some really good advice early on that the book really needed to have sections.

Parts of the book are set in Detroit.

Parts of the book are in Baghdad, where my dad is from.

And so just being able to sort of give people space and signals to those kind of scene shifts and also shifts in time.

And so the last poem in the book is actually one of the last poems that I wrote before the book got published.

And so it was just a sort of a reflection on where I was in my life at that time and sort of felt like the right end point, like this is the end of this chapter in a way, and this book as well.

You just said something that's really important.

That is one of the reasons I really wanted to talk to you, because you talked about your father being from Baghdad.

And I think that a lot of people forget that like Michigan is really a center for Arab-American culture, for community.

And I know it shows up a lot in your writing.

And I just wanted to ask you if you could talk a little bit about what it means to be writing within that community, outside of that community.

How does... how do you go about doing that?

Yeah, I mean, I think you're absolutely right.

I feel really fortunate to have grown up where I did because we are surrounded by the largest Arab-American community outside the Arab world.

And I did get a lot of support from organizations in that community for sure.

That brought in really prominent Arab writers that were writing on a national level.

So being able to study when I was pretty young with Naomi Shihab Nye and Khaled Mattawa and other poets like that, really shaped sort of not just my writing, but also how I saw myself.

I because I come from a mixed background.

My mother is American, my dad is Arab, sort of always negotiating like, where do I fit in the culture is really important to me.

And so having those early experiences was really pivotal and and feeling like I was part of a community.

I mean, Detroit to me has the best writing community.

And I'd love to hear you talk a little bit about what it's meant to you too.

But for me, the level of support that we give each other and that we get from each other is just like the most beautiful thing in the world.

And so, yes, being part of the Arab community was important, but also just like growing up in Detroit and going to school at Wayne State and being a part of like sort of an arts community, an activist community in Detroit really did shape how I saw myself and and definitely a lot of my writing as well.

You said you're saying all these things.

That also just resonate with me and my writing career too, like the activism Detroit as a space to like write from.

And having like such strong influences by these very incredible writers like Detroit is a writing city, and I think sometimes people in Michigan forget how talented we are as writers because we have such so, so many strong writers, right?

Yeah, It's unusual, I would say.

Yeah, for sure.

Yeah.

So I like I have a question for you, like about influences.

What like what inspires you, What gets you going and whether it's a poet, a music, whatever.

Like, I'm just curious about what helps you go back to the page.

Yeah, absolutely.

I mean, I think I draw inspiration from lots of places.

I would say one sort of primary place is definitely visual art.

I love visual art and there are a number of poems in my book that are inspired by pieces of artwork, primarily paintings, and then a lot of sort of like what's happening in the world also, I would say, comes into play at times.

Memory is a big thing that I come back to, you know, like lately, and I'm going to ask you a question.

I'm curious, like what you've been thinking about lately with your writing.

Oh, like I said, I'm very nostalgic as well right now.

There are two kinds of spaces of memory that I've been thinking about with my own writing, and that has to do with historical moments and also personal moments.

And so I've been writing a lot about events that happened in the nineties, and some of them happened in Detroit.

Some of them are kind of global because I grew up in the nineties.

I was ten when they started and 20 when they ended.

But I've also been thinking about how we as a collective community remember how we lose things based on like the way that it's been recorded in technology.

Whether it's like that we commemorate an event with a mural or we actually create recordings and documentaries like how the Internet has created a different kind of archive that is still fleeting and maybe oversaturated.

And so, yeah, my poetry is really different these days because I've been thinking a lot about whose story are we remembering?

Yeah, yeah, that, that sounds incredible.

And I think like that idea of like what's happening on a personal level and then what's happening, you know, nationally, globally what's happening even really super hyper locally and you know, how do we capture those things?

And to me for sure, like a recording, there is nothing like that.

You know, hearing somebody's voice, hearing them tell their story is is such a powerful thing.

Oh, you're make me go home and write another poem.

I love that.

But I mean, before I go home, I really want to hear another poem from you.

And so can you tell us a little bit more about the poem that you're going to share before we have you read it?

Sure, I'd love to.

It's called On the Last Night and it's sort of in that tradition of poetry that is thinking about like, what will I be doing in those last moments of my life.

I'm getting older.

And so I just sort of started collecting memories.

And also people that like some of whom are sort of small little interactions that I still come back to and think about.

And, and then it's sort of also written toward my husband and our early meeting and then where we are now.

And payphones definitely play a part in it as well.

All right.

Well, I'm excited to hear it.

Thank you Nandi!

Thank you.

This has been amazing.

On the Last Night.

On the last night, I'd find a payphone outside a donut shop in Detroit Glow of light sugar smelled of cold It's heavy Lift Call you to say that even now I am running late When your brothers were still alive and no one knew what was to come Break bread in a snowstorm after laboring after dressing in modest miniskirt and tights and my best hair curl like a spoon or spine Book to book We talk all night on the sofa Not meant for soft bodies to think I'll never shower again, never repeat myself or lather, rinse cucumbers Think of my father His brown hands I'll miss all the hands and trees I couldn't name Looking out a window, drinking coffee, alleys, sound of our door closing When you came home In another life Every time I went to the movies, someone broke into my house, took my clothes and baskets from the floor My thrifted black leather jacket that survived a knife fight They were kids In the end, it's time to consider everything lost that gave us something Woman on a bus who acted as a mother Man in a motorcycle club Who made a phone call Library Where I buried myself at 18 All the songs and poems and steps towards something big or small The times I called you and you answered or didn't And I kept hitting redial My impatient permanence, my never giving up I am so excited to introduce to you Charisma Holly.

Charisma definitely lives up to her name.

She is a star in the making, performing her poetry in a way that you can't ignore.

This InsideOut Literary Arts student uses poetry and spoken word to share her voice, to inspire others, impact her community, and make the world a better place.

She was a finalist for the 2024 Pulitzer Fighting Words Poetry Contest and has performed all over Detroit and beyond.

Get ready for Charisma Holly!

My name is Charisma Holly and this is Aim Higher.

I shoot for the moon eyes trained on the brightest light to lead my way.

The shells of doubt to be pushed and pulled by the tide.

I've tried and I've tried to keep my feet away from cloud nine.

Head turned toward the ground, ambling along with the crowd.

But now the night is calling on me to shine.

To be a guide.

I shoot for the moon Because I found the further I climb, the more it makes others seek to elevate.

Greatness cannot wait for me to play victim to disarray.

I have my head on straight.

Striving to achieve what my own bones do not yet believe.

If my spirit is willing, I can do anything.

I'll lace up my boots and wrap my jacket closed This world can be cold, but I am warm blooded, hard hard headed and kind hearted.

And I intend to finish what I started.

The only difference between my present and my yesterday is I have a mind set on taking flight to a sky above limitation.

Unknown Destination.

Uncharted Triumph.

The only question is are you going to come with me?

Are you ready to let go of the gravity holding you tethered to your situation?

Are you ready to open your imagination to perceive the world in new light, allowing the possibilities to become reality?

You can become valedictorian.

You can push for that promotion.

You can love with new devotion and let go of what hurts.

There are infinitely many words to show that you are capable if you are willing to take a leap of faith.

I know this excursion might seem uncertain, but I promise you the same thing I promised myself that everything needed is already within.

If you have been waiting for permission to take that first step, this This is it.

This journey is a story that has yet to be told.

And we are the writers who will determine how it will unfold as we boldly go where no one has dared to dream.

We each must continue to shoot for the moon, because even if you miss every single time, you will always land among the stars.

Oh, my God, Charimsa Thank you so much.

That poem!

I really love that you brought that poem to us today.

And what a lovely place to do it, too, in the Fisher Building.

I love this building.

It's so beautiful.

I would say it only is almost as beautiful as the poem that you just read.

Oftentimes when you think of motivational poems, it's you just got to do better.

But you even acknowledged your own kind of like fear.

It was like, What was that line?

You stay away from cloud nine?

Try to keep my feet away from cloud nine, head turned toward the ground, ambling along with the crowd, just trying to, you know, not aspire to be anything.

Just try to conform, try to, you know, keep the path of least resistance.

Yeah, but I mean, as artists, we can't do that.

Right.

So can you talk to me a little bit about how you got started on the youth poetry scene?

I guess I really started writing poetry when I was around 12 or 13 when like Covid was starting and we all just kind of needed some way to express what we were feeling and going through.

And then when I was 14, I was in high school and I joined Citywide Poets, the after school program with InsideOut Literary Arts, and from there things just kind of exploded.

I love InsideOut.

I started InsideOut as a high school student too.

So like, it's a really great program and I wish I know that there are programs all over the country that do programing for youth poets, but there's something in the way that InsideOut works.

So like what Like kind of got you when you first started going to their programing and how did that how, what was that experience meeting other young poets and stuff?

It was so shocking that it's almost ludicrous to me now.

Like now that I've seen the entire scene.

But when I first met my best friend Adrian, our first thing was like, Oh, you write poetry or I write poetry too!

and I was just like wait other people actually do this!

and then from being in InsideOut being in City Wide Poets, it was just like, Oh, there are people like all over your city who do this all over your state.

So I was very surprised.

But the more I got into it, the more natural it felt, the more connected it felt.

Oh, of course everybody does this.

This is great.

I feel like I had that same experience when I was at high school, like I was writing by myself.

And then I met my best friend in high school through, like an InsideOut program.

And then I started meeting people all over the state and it was like kind of like my what I call my origin story as a poet.

But you, like, I see you everywhere.

Tell me about, like, your travels and what the difference between, like doing poetry in Detroit, doing poetry in Michigan, and then, like, I know you've been out of state, too, right?

Yeah.

So I feel like the more that I was able to kind of break out of the shell of like, Oh, I'm the only person who does this, and I'm the only person who's going to like my work.

The more I was able to see opportunities just open up.

And so I was a part of the 2023, 2024 youth performance troupe with InsideOut.

So we did performances all over the city and that was really fun because you can yell “What up doe?” into the crowd and everybody just responds to you.

But I am also a part of the Mosaic Youth theater of Detroit and we took a trip to Kentucky and they were having a block party and we were talking to another group who was based there, and they were saying like, Oh yeah, you know, we do poetry and everything.

And so she asked us like, does anybody just have material that they just always have ready?

And I was like, I do.

And so she was like, Great, you're going up in five.

Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute.

I didn't agree to all this, but because I was there, I was ready.

I had my poems memorized.

Me and three of our other young artists, we went in a circle, practiced 5 minutes later, we were onstage, im-promp-tu, in a different state that I had never been to before.

But I really enjoyed it.

And it was a lot of fun.

They were so intrigued.

They were like, You guys are from Detroit and everything, so it was great to see that positive recognition for my city somewhere outside of my city, like, Oh, you're from Detroit.

Like all of like, like that's, that's the place.

All the cars and everything and stuff.

So.

So like, what has been like one of your favorite poems that you've heard or read and the most recently that you like, really liked?

Hmm.

I've been on button poetry a lot, so I really like Rudy Francisco.

It is A Series of Gentle Reminders, Adrenaline Rush.

Button poetry is a really good place to find new work by contemporary artists, and they record performances of poets from all over the world.

It's really a great resource for anyone who's looking to get started in poetry.

So I'm glad to hear that you're looking in that area.

Its actually kind of where I got started.

I remember when I was 12 or 13, I was looking up things on YouTube and I came across Rudy Francisco and that was kind of my introduction to spoken word because before I was writing like for the page, but when I saw him at the microphone in the way he was expressing it, it made me think like, Oh, I want to do that.

So that's kind of also why I started memorizing my poems, because he was a really big inspiration to me.

And one of the things I always like to say is I want to do something that inspires somebody else to want to do something, because that's kind of what it was for me.

So just being able to see that and then wanting to be that, I also wanted to be that person who as a teenager showed other teenagers that they can get started on something like this while they're still young.

I'm curious...

I know you have another poem that you're going to do for us.

Yes.

Can you talk a little bit about that poem?

Tell me what it is we're about to hear.

The title of the poem is All You Have to Lose and it's a really funny story because I actually wrote it about my little sister who was like 11 at the time.

And so she was telling me like, Oh, I'm dating this boy or whatever.

And I was like, Oh, you're 11 but, Okay.

And so she was telling me about it, and she was like, Yeah, but if you broke up with me, I'd be fine.

And I was thinking, like, what!?

And so then that kind of made me think about how I saw my own relationships.

Like if I was willing to lose you today, what kind of relationship do we even have?

Like, are we really that close?

If you said goodbye to me tomorrow and I wouldn't be upset about it.

So that's just kind of where it stemmed from.

And I love how, like, you're thinking about writing a poem that's not necessarily your own personal experience, but you're finding inspiration in somebody else's poem.

Definitely.

Oh, that's great.

Well, I can't wait to hear it.

I can't wait to share it.

All right.

Well, this is Charisma with her second poem.

The title of this poem is All You Have to Lose.

You say you love me most when you're least afraid to lose me.

But can you really say you love me if you're not afraid to lose me?

If walking away couldn't make you cry.

If you already know you would be alright.

If you know that this isn't worth the fight, can you really say you love me?

Because if you're going to love me, love me like I'm a Band-Aid.

Love like pulling away would make you bleed.

I want you to look at me like I'm the light of your world.

Break me and you won't be able to see.

If you're going to love me Raise me like I'm a tall glass of water.

Because if you don't hold me carefully, I might just spill.

If you're going to love me, love me like I'm the key to heaven.

Because I might just be the key to heaven.

If you're going to love me, love me like your last $5.

Love me like car keys, Something you can lose but pray you never do.

If you're going to love me, Love me like eternity, Love like you want it to last forever.

Because if you need something quick fall in love with hookups, something disposable love, plastic cups.

If you want something easy to blow away, you can love leaves.

But if you're going to love me, hold me with hands that tremble at the thought of dropping me Hug me so close I can feel your heart beat rapidly at the idea of ever letting go This love will be a dream that blocks off your nightmares of falling off Cloud nine I want Monopoly over your minds.

And even if your next role isn't enough to make it past Go you can always land on my train station and conduct your electricity to mine.

Connect Even if the hairs on the back of your neck warn you that things can get shocking.

Breathe with me.

Even if your lungs take in the smoke of the fire that we spark.

Breathe with me.

I want you to love me like you know you can lose me.

But you never plan on letting go.

Love me with everything you've got to lose.

Thank you.