Poetry Connection | Backyard Floricantos Are for Summer

You may have heard of a backyard summer cookout, but have you heard of a backyard floricanto? “Flor y Canto” is the Aztec expression for poetry, with its literal translation in Nahuatl being “in xochitl in cuicatl,” meaning “the flower and the song.” It’s a tradition, especially in Los Angeles, for poets to hold backyard floricantos, coming together to share food and poems under the shade of a tree.

Over the past 15 years, I’ve attended several floricantos at Casa Sedano, the home of Michael Sedano of La Bloga (the longest-established Chicana/Chicano, Latina/Latino literary blog, of which I am a contributor) and Barbara (Michael’s late wife, who recently lost her battle with dementia). Sedano has staked his claim as blogger and photographer to poets. He travels to poetry readings, near and far, and aims his camera in hopes of the perfect poetic pose. He photographed the first Festival de Flor y Canto at USC, celebrating Chicano and Chicana poets in 1973, an event originally hosted by El Centro Chicano. USC’s Digital Library holds original films by the readings thanks to the efforts of producer-director Jesús Treviño and photographer Michael Sedano.    

In 2010, Sedano organized a reunion of the original festival poets and invited several newer poets to participate. The Floricanto Festival of 2010 included poets who identify as Chicano, Chicana, Latino, and Latina. I was lucky to be among the participants in an amazing lineup that included Juan Felipe Herrera, Alurista, Ron Arias, Vibiana Aparicio-Chamberlin, Tony Marez, Mary Ann Pacheco, and Veronica Cunningham.

Since then, Sedano has hosted several floricantos in his backyard with Treviño there to film and feature the poets on Latinopia.com. Last Sunday, the tradition returned after a long COVID hiatus. It was wonderful to gather with poet friends. There was even an appearance by famed artist Margaret Garcia, who last year was honored with a one-woman art show, Arte Para la Gente, at the Ventura County Art Museum. It was a big surprise when she signed up for the open mic and sang a few verses of “Gracias a La Vida,” the Mercedes Sosa song made famous by Joan Baez. Garcia’s voice is rich with dark chocolate tones, a surprise for someone with a high speaking voice.

Sunday’s gathering was in honor of Richard Vargas and his latest poetry book, leaving a tip at the Blue Moon Motel (Casa Urraca Press, 2023). A seasoned poet, Vargas is on top of his game and at his strongest when writing about everyday life, his various jobs and occupations that inform his poetry, love, and family. He says it’s a joy to be invited to read at one of Michael’s floricantos. “I feel as if I’m contributing in a small way to our culture’s traditions and evolving art. The camaraderie and friendship between poets and the audience makes it a very special event.”

For this gathering, a little flexibility was in order. Casa Sedano has been sold — Michael is still in the process of moving, so the reading takes a place nearby in Thelma Reyna’s beautiful backyard. Reyna is an award-winning author and publisher of Golden Foothills Press and was Poet Laureate of Altadena from 2014-2016. She and I are set to open for Richard, and there’s a signup sheet for an open mic. However, the order becomes jumbled because Treviño must leave early, so the show begins with the featured reader, followed by the open mic and Reyna, our hostess and featured reader. I closed us out with three poems and their companion songs.

I’m looking forward to my set at Shoreline Park, August 17 at noon. If you come, look for the library’s On the Go Van and the playground.

Events:

Thursday, August 17, noon to 1 p.m., Poetry in the Park, 1237 Shoreline Dr., Santa Barbara. A set of poems and songs by the Poet Laureate.

Saturday, August 19, 10 a.m., S.B. Community Archives Showcase, East Side Library, Santa Barbara. Listen to a poem, hear stories, and see archived photos of Santa Barbara’s East Side neighborhood.

August 25, 6:30-8 p.m., Writers Symposium, Fine Line Gallery, La Cumbre Plaza. A discussion on “inviting the Muse” with Dan Diamond, Janet Lucy, and Melinda Palacio, moderated by Mike Cregan, founder of La Cumbre Center for Creative Arts and award-winning author Tracy Shawn.

Poetry Connection: This week, we feature a young poet who works at the Loan Closet. Meet Miguel Hernandez from Santa Barbara.

He writes: “I am 24 years old, born and raised in Santa Barbara. I have been writing poetry since I was 17 years old, very on and off. I write spontaneously. I think I am at my best when I write when I feel I am ready and don’t force myself to. And sometimes that could be months apart or a few hours. There is poetry in the simple observations, in the unspoken, it’s like the scientific method of your own raw thoughts. And the most important aspect I think is that it’s better to first feel a poem than to understand it.”

And the abyss looked back
by Miguel Hernandez

Fill the walls
make them shrines
with photos of dead people
we are after all some magical
freak accident of
nature 
The ocean is frightening 
but we’ll all be swimming there
some day 
This life is just a temporary loan,
my dear friend
we have to give ourselves back to
the soil eventually 
and wait in line
restart the process
get there faster with a good 
credit score
We are the concoction of old stars
exploding 
getting spliced back together
Possessed with the tenderness
of touch
We try to build statues of
what cannot
will not last 
There are always pot holes
in the road
Some things that cannot be changed
reversed 
Let us be swallowed by
the vastness of
nothingness 
The macrocosm of black space
if it must be 
We are a one in a billion chance
A beautiful accident 
You are 

carpal tunnels
by Miguel Hernandez

Wake up to the morning of

dishes being broken downstairs

Insults get hurled like

Molotov cocktails

You know my mind is fragile 

The house is a small place

to keep my headspace

Thoughts often get locked there

For a trauma to unearth 15 years

down the line 

Suitcase packed 

is all it took for ego

to fold over

Lock eyes with strangers

who make light of history 

We are a wretched bunch

Sensation will not return 

Repainted brick walls are not a 

new infrastructure

Intimacy is galvanizing 

but we are in captivity to

past torment