Jo Barbara Taylor
poet
I live in Raleigh, North Carolina, but am an Indiana farm girl at heart (once a Hoosier…). I love the richness of Midwestern farmland, regret the loss of family farms and small towns. These are my favorite subjects, but there are many topics that interest me. I love being part of the North Carolina poetry community, another rich “farmland” that is fertile and supportive. I lead poetry workshops for OLLI through Duke Continuing Education, chair the Brockman-Campbell Book Award for the North Carolina Poetry Society, and coordinate a poetry reading series for Quail Ridge Books, a local independent bookstore. I'm a freelance editor/writing coach for poets, novelists, memoirists, and non-fiction writers, and play in mixed media.
Books News
from
SMALL SPARKLE
I taught myself
to find a small sparkle
within the dark of night
to sigh one or two feathers
spin a dream
in silken gold
and sleep
in silver peace
one or two feathers
Plan B Press
Alexandria, VIrginia
2010
Jake and Jill
Ridgeline Press
Raleigh, North Carolina
2011
RIGHT AND WRONG
Didn’t your mother always
tell you that you will
spoil your dinner if you
eat candy before supper?
Jake scolds.
“Yes, but she
was always wrong
about that”
Jill replies.
"Growing Up In A Ford Fairlane" in
Boston Literary Review and selected for the Best of Boston Literary Review
Essay on mapping as a way to consider process in writing on ButDoesItRhyme blog (Richer Resources Publishing)
"Rubaiyat, Misplaced in the Stacks" finalist in the Ron Rash Awards and appears in Broad River Review
"Inauguration," " Cultivating Words," "Higher Order Operations" appeared in Indiana Voice Journal
"Fine Apparel" chosen for Kakalak
"Amelia Speaks of Open Water" Honorable Mention for the North Carolina Literary Review
"That Moment I Detach from Myself" appearing online at
Grey Sparrow
Cameo Roles
Big Table Publishing
Boston, Massachusetts
2011
GOD WROTE:
Dear Hanna Grace,
My name is antiquated,
grizzled, a relic.
I want a new “handle.”
Please suggest possibilities.
I replied:
raindrop
grain of sand
laughter
lilac
Indiana
bonbon
snowflake
woolen socks
fireplace
Claire de Lune
cameo
blue silk
sunset
poetry
High Ground
Main Street Rag
Charlotte, North Carolina
2013
from
Human Resouces
defense, everyone defensive
staccato shots and belched
IED explosions vibrate
in the air, when fighting
dies down in late afternoon,
a farmer and his son
go out, pick some okra
to stew for dinner
How to Come and Go
Chatter House Press
Indianapolis, Indiana
2016
WEEDS
Chicory blooms at 6:23
on a sunrise red morning,
blueberry-violet blossoms
dot ditches and pastures
along country roads.
Stick figure stalks stand
in irregular angles, capped
by daisy mops. Foliage, edible
endive, graces a garden salad.
Come evening, flowers fade
into tired lilac before closing
to sleep in the indigo shadows
of night. Chicory grows strong
from deep roots in summer sun,
witness to the worth of weeds.
Poetry
from
SATURDAY SUMMER MORNING
Yesterday the hawk held court
on a low limb near the house,
an empress posing for the paparazzi,
a furry remnant hanging from her talon
like a beaded reticule.
Poetry
from
DOES LOVE MAKE THE MOUNTAINS BLUE
The outline of the ridge,
blue in this moon-bosomed sky,
woos the stars.
Poetry
from
FOAL
Soon she will learn the harness
of discipline and her role on an oval track
just as you and I learned our gaits after we
were weaned from the gentle lead of our mothers.
Poetry Events
love this quotation:
poetry is a sign of something among people--Mary Ruefle
