Showing posts with label Chip Livingston. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chip Livingston. Show all posts

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Short Stories: Naming Ceremony by Chip Livingston

In the sixteen short stories and profound essays that comprise Naming Ceremony, Chip Livingston examines the worlds we create for ourselves by exploring the names we are called and those we call ourselves. Livingston’s characters express in word and deed the names that confirm their individuality as well as validating their roles in family, culture, politics, and sexuality.
My previous acquaintance with Chip Livingston's works was limited to one short story and his poetry volume Crow-Blue, Crow-Black. In this collection of short stories the quality of Chip Livington's writing cannot be questioned. He is a fine poet and writer. However, for me, the power of some pieces stand out with unqualified force.

First we have a selection of connected short pieces that collectively complete one story -- "Naming Ceremony," "What Calls You Home," "Owls don't have to mean death," "One Hundred Kisses," and "Ghost Dance." These stories depict moments in the life of Peter Strongbow, his HIV positive lover Elan, with Native American culture and family playing key roles in Peter's lifestyle and relationships. Livingston captures moments filled with love, hope and laughter, dreams and fear, loss and grief with a deep sense of truth and powerful honesty.

That same sense of honesty is found in Livingston's "Anthology of Spoon River AIDS Walk" which is composed of small, verse-like snippets that convey thoughts of lovers, friends, family, and acquaintances participating in an AIDS Walk for Tim Kelley who died of AIDS. This powerful piece hits the reader with raw reality and a myriad of emotions.

Susan

I picked Mason in Charleston.
It happened that I was there for a meeting.
Good timing. Right.
Thank you Universal Forces of Love and Light.
I met Mason through Tim.
I'll walk with Mason in memory of Tim.
    And for my Father.


Tom Girl

I used to live with Tim in Columbia
I wanted to come up but I just couldn't
I wanted to see Mason and the Kelley's
It's too hard
I can't deal with it
I wonder how many people
will wear shirts and walk for me
I still feel great but Tim went so quick

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About the Author: Chip Livingston has received awards in fiction from Native Writers’ Circle of the Americas, Wordcraft Circle of Native Writers and Storytellers, the University of Colorado, and the AABB Foundation. As a faculty member of the low-residency MFA program at the Institute of American Indian Arts and at Gotham Writers Workshops, Chip teaches nonfiction, fiction and poetry writing.

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Poetry: "Septipus" by Chip Livingston


For my brother N.

You are celebrating your birthday today in Montevideo, Uruguay with friends and family. I miss you. This poem from Chip Livington's poetry volume Crow-Blue, Crow-Black reminded me of you.

"Septipus"*
(for the seven-armed Uruguayan)
  1. One to hold the mate; to stop a taxi; to extend an index finger to push up loose-eared eyeglasses;
  2. One to crook the thermos, pour the water, and redirect cooked yerba with a silver bombilla; to light a cigarette;
  3. One to puff the Rojo; to gesture "WWWHat a pity!!";
  4. One to fine tune antennae and radiate little summer shocks; to tune the radio to María Rita, tango electronica, or The Cranberries;
  5. One to good-guard new amigos from uneven stones and otras cosas peligrosas, bothers and malaria; to offer the growing moon, fireworks;
  6. One to scribble a waitress a phone number; to correct a stress from an Italian accent;
  7. One of rare perspective to photograph, spell out poetry, convert incantations, cast ordinary objects artesanal
Together these brown arms shoulder the mochila,
sign shipping orders, protect candles, smudge a room
with incense; they envelop children in abrazos.
Embrace me also in these seven alchemical arms.
Make the tambores jealous. Take my hand as we
walk along the rambla becoming a new metal. 

Besos!


*Copyright © 2012 Chip Livingston