After a lovely, lively, and whimsical reading by Alice Pero (assisted in one section by a fellow poet and editor of her delightful book, Thawed Stars, Russell Salamon), we were getting ready to hear Georgia Jones-Davis in July and Millicent Borges Accardi in August. We already sent Georgia’s biography to The Voice of the Village when it turned out that she has to postpone her appearance by a month. Thus we will enjoy the presence of Millicent a month earlier, on July 24, at 4:30 p.m. As all Village Poets Readings, this one will take place on a Sunday afternoon, in the enchanting interior of the Bolton Hall Museum, at 10110 Commerce Avenue, Tujunga, CA 91042. The reading will include open mike sections before and after the feature (accomodating up to 18 poets) and light refreshments will be served, courtesy of the Bolton Hall Museum staff.
Millicent Borges Accardi, a Portuguese-American poet, is the author of three books: Injuring Eternity (World Nouveau), Woman on a Shaky Bridge (Finishing Line Press chapbook), and Only More So (forthcoming Salmon Press, Ireland 2012). The beautiful covers of her books are reproductions of paintings by her husband, Charles Accardi (his website is: charlesaccardi.com)
She has won fellowships from the National Endowment for the arts (NEA), the California Arts Council, Barbara Deming Foundation, Canto Mundo, and Formby at the Special Collections Library at Texas Tech (researching writer-activist Kay Boyle). Her work has also received three Pushcart Prize nominations.
Accardi’s poetry has appeared in over 50 publications, including Nimrod, Tampa Review, New Letters and Wallace Stevens Journal as well as in Boomer Girls (Iowa Press) and Chopin with Cherries (Moonrise Press) anthologies.
Her theater and book reviews can be found in print and online at The Topanga Messenger. Past artist residencies include Yaddo, Jentel, Vermont Studio, Fundación Valparaíso in Mojacar, Milkwood in Cesky Krumlov and Disquiet in Lisbon, Portugal.
She received degrees in English and writing from Califortnia State University Long Beach and holds a Masters in Professional Writing degree from the University of Southern California. She works as a freelance writer (theater reviews, grant writing and instructional design); this type of work leaves her with time to create and travel to poetry residences around the world. More information may be found on her website: Millicent Borges Accardi.
About Injuring Eternity :
In Injuring Eternity Millicent Borges Accardi gives the reader a day’s worth of character poems in three parts, morning, noon, and evening. These sketches are fun to pick up and read one or two at a time and think about. Sitting down and reading them all at once can seem a little too much, but perhaps that’s the introvert in me. The collection is of mostly free form poems, well shaped and with excellent use of interesting and specific details, with the title coming from a quote from Henry Thoreau “As if you could kill time without injuring eternity”. The overall poem though, goes beyond the person, into capturing a statement about relationships and life… Many will find something of value just by randomly opening pages and selecting something new: births, deaths, lovers, children, snooping, guns, the down side of Las Vegas, soap operas and birthdays.
~ The Compulsive Reader by Sheri Harper
The work addresses family, love, politics, art, and religion. It tackles current events, popular culture, and spares a few asides for Miles Davis. It’s an ambitious collection that takes a lot of risks.
~ from a review published in Chamber Four
Have such soulful
Eyes, their gray suit
Of feathers blurs and sinks
Them into the background
Like a creature in hiding.
They hover below the wild
Bird feeder set up for the finches
And harvest the shells, the thistle
Seed casings and what drops after
The finches and faux robins and phoebes
Have feasted. The mourning
Doves huddle and nest in the mountains
Of seed shells and dirt and make circles
With their small bird bodies turning
Into the ground digging a place around
Them as if they were under a shrub with only
The black drops of ink from their tail feathers
Visible. In a group, they lie in wait, their dear gray
Eyes gloomy and sullen and innocent and they want
What the world desires, to be fed and comfortable
And consummated and happy.