Poetr y Reading April 19, Hayesville NC

 Friday, April 19,  2024,10:45 a.m.

2024 Multicultural Women's Development Conference 

Hinton Life Center 

Hayesville NC

More Info:  https://onedozenwhocare.org/multicultural-womens-development-conference/

Poetry Reading September 24 !

Runyon will read from her recent book of poems, Where Is Our Prague Spring?, at St. David’s Episcopal Church in Cullowhee, NC on Sunday, September 24. The heart of this book, written during Black Lives Matter events, puts forward a history of progressivism in Appalachia.  It challenges the common stereotype of the region as backwards and racist and presents an alternative view of both past and present without whitewashing either. The reading will be followed by a discussion of “Love, Race, and Hate in Appalachia.”  Scroll all the way down for a sample poem.

Louise Morgan Runyon Poetry Reading

“Love, Race, and Hate in Appalachia"

St. David's Episcopal Church

Sunday, September 24, 5:30 p.m.

385 Forest Hills Rd, Cullowhee, NC 28723

(on the Western Carolina University campus)

There is also a "Sunday Soup Supper" at the church at 5 p.m. before the reading, to which the community is invited.  

Ordering Information

Where Is Our Prague Spring?:  $20 + $4 shipping

To order, go to http://louiserunyonperformance.com/ and click on "Order Books" on the menu at the left.  You must click directly on the words "order books."

Says poet Catherine Carter of Western Carolina University, “…Runyon interrogates the place and her family’s long history there to illuminate a complicated tradition of Appalachian progressivism dating both back to and forward from the Trail of Tears.  These thoughtful poems evoke an Appalachia that few outsiders know: simultaneously progressive and conservative, woven into the wider world in unexpected ways, and rooted deeply in the labor and vision of women.”  

Kami Ahrens of Foxfire Museum notes, “Runyon's manner of writing engages the reader in conversations about contemporary themes that reflect stories of the past while providing lessons for the future.  A must-read for any lover of Appalachian literature.”

Sample Poem

Cherokee-Scottish Festival

 at the Cherokee-Scottish Festival in Franklin, North Carolina

not far from the “Qualla Boundary,” which is still home

to the Cherokee who escaped

the Trail of Tears

 

my cousin and I stand

at the table of Cherokee artisans

viewing the exquisite two-color baskets

the sleek carved panthers and bears

the roughly chiseled stone

 

from the crowd at the table an elderly white gentleman

in a crisp red tartan kilt with all the trimmings

turns out of nowhere to say to my cousin and me:

 

in Sylva, they are trying to tear down

the Confederate monument, of all things

 

and he proceeds to say this bad thing about the Blacks

and that bad thing about the Blacks –

 

            they should tear it down!

I interrupt, throwing caution to the winds

who does he think we are, my cousin and me – tourists?

 

the racists here love to talk

about being in these mountains eight generations –

that’s as long as any white man could be

 

our own family has been here for eight generations

we marched to tear down the statue in Sylva, for lord’s sake –

we weren’t raised to be racist

 

my ancestor, among the first Europeans in Franklin

     deeded land to a Cherokee chief

          to save him and his family

     from the Trail of Tears

 

     but we are not innocent –

            this same ancestor owned slaves

 

has promotion of Scottish heritage

become codeword for white supremacy?

my cousin and I go and listen to the bagpipes

before leaving the festival

 

I love the bagpipes

they remind me of my Scottish ancestry, McIntosh

the bagpipe band played traditional tunes

including “Amazing Grace”

 

do those tartan-clad players know

that song was written by a former slave ship captain

who became an abolitionist?

 

the week after the festival the Franklin newspaper

featured a centerfold spread of the “Cherokee/Scottish” event

full color photos of all the tartans and kilts

not one photo of a Cherokee artisan

****

later I go to get my car inspected

at an auto repair shop I’d heard about

owned by a family of old-time musicians –

good people, I’m told

 

I’m curious – are these the kind of people

I grew up knowing here – heart-solid

kind, honest-as-the-day-is-long

mountain folk?

 

the young brothers working there are all pale-skinned

with ginger hair and reddish beards

they are incredibly nice, fast and cheap

 

when I enter the gas station cafè to pay

there is no sign of music or old-time musicians

just a poster for a Christian singer

who will appear soon in Franklin

 

the patrons, all older white men

look suspiciously at me in my pink mask

“not from around here”

          they must be thinking

 

Poetry Reading September 2, Sylva, NC

Runyon will be giving a poetry reading at the 4M Festival (Mountain Makers Mushroom & Music) over Labor Day weekend in Sylva, NC:

Louise Morgan Runyon Poetry Reading

Mountain Makers Mushroom & Music Festival

Saturday, September 2, 11:30 a.m.

Paper Mill Lounge Courtyard

(outdoors, set back from street, seating available)

553 West Main St., Sylva, NC 28779

~ Parking at Sylva 1st United Methodist Church ~

The festival features many bands, craft demonstrations, speakers and food.  Runyon will read poems related to fall in the mountains, and to the traditional art of handweaving (scroll down for sample poem).  Poetry books will be available (cash or check only).  Speaking before Runyon is Peter Koch of Mountain Heritage Center; after Louise is local historian Tim Hall.  Come and spend the day!  For more info: jacksonartsmarket.com/4m.

Please check out Louise's latest book:

Ordering Information

Where Is Our Prague Spring?:  $20 + $4 shipping

To order, go to http://louiserunyonperformance.com/ and click on "Order Books" on the menu at the left.  You must click directly on the words "order books."

Says poet Catherine Carter of Western Carolina University, “…Runyon interrogates the place and her family’s long history there to illuminate a complicated tradition of Appalachian progressivism dating both back to and forward from the Trail of Tears.  These thoughtful poems evoke an Appalachia that few outsiders know: simultaneously progressive and conservative, woven into the wider world in unexpected ways, and rooted deeply in the labor and vision of women.”  

Kami Ahrens of Foxfire Museum notes, “Runyon's manner of writing engages the reader in conversations about contemporary themes that reflect stories of the past while providing lessons for the future.  A must-read for any lover of Appalachian literature.”

Sample Poem

men weaving

traditionally it was the women who wove

in the mountain hollers

and the men who built the looms

out of rough-hewn wood

 

then the railroads that had been built for the mines

to haul off the feldspar, kaolin and mica

also brought in dry goods for clothing

so the looms were put away

 

and stayed away, until Lucy Morgan

went to Berea College in 1924 to learn to weave

and came back to Penland to teach the women there –

 

where only Aunt Susan Phillips, age 95

still even knew how to weave, but didn’t –

but had a big old rough-timbered loom

way up high in the loft of her cabin

 ****

when Penland School was born in 1929

my great-aunt Lucy invited Edward F. Worst –

an expert on handweaving from Chicago –

to the new Penland School to teach

and he came, and came back

summer after summer

on his own dime

 

and then it was Mr. Rupert Peters

who came from the Kansas City Public Schools

to take the helm of the Lily Loom House in the 1930s

 

he was still there when I was a child in the 50s

though elderly, and no longer taught

but came to The Pines for all his meals

always chucking me under the chin, saying

“you’ve got a little soft spot there, haven’t you?”

 

Mr. Peters – tall, bespectacled, white-haired –

his picture high on the wall above the mantle in the weaving room

where we wove late at night, while keeping an eye out for bats

     swooping down from the rafters

 

and later it was Colonel John Fishback, round and bald –

a cranky old army colonel who had been wounded in the war

and didn’t want to do anything until someone said

bring him to Penland, he can learn to weave

and he did

 

and it was he who taught my cousin and me

when I was twelve and she was thirteen

 

all those men weaving, but fifty years later

it was under the tutelage of women once again

that my own tall son learned to weave

bright star of the weaving studio that season

with his youth, his bright red hair

Poetry Reading July 19 at Historic Church

Louise will be giving a poetry reading at St. John's Episcopal Church at Cartoogechaye, just west of Franklin, NC on Wednesday July 19 at 6 p.m.  The reading will pay homage to her great-uncle A. Rufus Morgan, an Episcopal priest who rebuilt the church in the 1940s and was an environmentalist and early maintainer of the Appalachian Trail; to her cousin Frances Cargill, a mainstay of Nantahala Weavers and an active dulcimer player in this area; and to other visionary family and friends, many of whom are buried in this church's cemetery.  Scroll down for a sample poem; scroll further down to see Sally Kesler ferns ~ Sally will also be honored in this reading.  Poetry books will be available for purchase for cash or check only.

Louise Morgan Runyon Poetry Reading

St. John's Episcopal Church at Cartoogechaye

542 St. John's Church Rd., Franklin, NC 28734

(6 miles west of Franklin off Hwy. 64 ~ see directions below)

Wednesday, July 19, at 6 p.m.

~ following the 5 p.m. service ~

 Reading will take place outdoors, weather permitting, otherwise in church 

www.LouiseRunyonPerformance.com

St. John's Church recently hosted the dedication of the newest Trail of Tears historical marker commemorating Sand Town, a Cherokee settlement of those who escaped the Trail of Tears to remain in the mountains.  Among these were Chief Chuttahsotee and his wife, Cunstagih, both of whom are buried on the grounds of this beautiful church.  Louise's ancestor, William Siler, deeded land to Chief Chuttahsotee at this site so that he and his family would not be forced onto the Trail of Tears.

Directions from Franklin:

--  U.S. 64 West c. 6 miles

--  R onto  Charles Nolan Rd. (just past Carl Slagle Rd.)

--  Go less than a mile, take first major R onto Setser Rd.

--  Setser Rd. makes a L turn to become St. John's Church Rd.

--  1st R into church

my cousin Frances                                                                

sharp of mind till the very end

keen of eyesight, possessed of hearing

only slow of speech, and eating

not slow of thinking, or of caring

 

Frances, the mountain girl

who left her mountains for 50 years or so

for Washington, D.C., for New England, for South Carolina

who finally made it back to the 100-year-old cabin

to play the dulcimer and the bowed psaltry

and to weave

 

who, with Sally, for 20 years was a mainstay

at the Nonah Weavers’ cabin

who wove the complex traditional overshot patterns

with ease

who wove fabric for an elegant suit

for her daughter

who wove scarves and curtains and baby blankets

and a bishop’s stole in red and white

 

Frances wove everything –

hand towels and dish towels, wash cloths and bath mats

inserts for Christmas cards and bookmarks – my treasures

 

Frances wove her own shroud

which covered the box meant to contain her ashes

which she kept for years

till she was ready

 

Frances, who, with her daughter and Sally

went “galaxing” every late fall,

gathered the large round leathery leaves,

prized by florists, into green bouquets

and mailed them to my mother and me every Christmas

sending the scent of the mountains to our homes

the green bouquets which would last till spring

 

Frances, who gave me sanctuary

the many times I came to see my aunt

(first cousin to Frances)

at the nursing home nearby

 

Frances, who sang “Amazing Grace”

in the Cherokee language at my aunt’s memorial service

at the tiny mountain church in the woods

where I will one day be buried

amidst the mosses and the ferns

Silkscreens of ferns by Sally Kesler, who will also be honored in this poetry reading:

Mother's Day Poetry Reading May 12 !

Runyon will read poems honoring significant mother figures in her life at the Jackson County, NC Senior Center on May 12.  Her reading will follow the Mother's Day Luncheon at the Senior Center.    For a sample poem, see below.

Louise Morgan Runyon Poetry Reading

Jackson County, NC Senior Center, Friday, May 12, 11:45 a.m.

100 County Services Park, Sylva, NC 28779

Check out Runyon's new book if you haven't already:

Ordering Information

Where Is Our Prague Spring?:  $20 + $4 shipping

To purchase Where Is Our Prague Spring?, click on "Order  Books" on the menu to the left of this page.  You must click directly on the words "Order Books."

Sample Poem

the purple and the gold

dear ma, 

two months ago today I moved here, I left Atlanta and came back to these mountains I have always loved.  today I walked down to the river the back way, for the first time by myself.  I did fine.  it was a warm, sunny afternoon, and the fall flowers were in their full glory.

       walls of coreopsis-like yellow

       gigantic Joe-Pye weed, gray-pink

       spiky magenta tufted things, Kirsten says it’s ironweed

       whole banks of orange jewel weed, petite

       tiny lavender asters, slightly bigger white ones

       no blue chicory, no purple or white

       ageratum

 

       a handful of Queen Anne’s lace, mostly gone now 

                    – your favorite flower – I thought of you –

       the glittering river below

       the dark distant peaks beyond

       the goldenrod starting

       the surprise of fresh bright thistles, light purple –

       first ones I’ve seen this season, reminded me

       of Penland

 

       two single black-eyed Susans in the meadow by the river

       as a child I thought it was my cousin Susan’s

       personal flower

 

       the rush of the river around the island

       where Brian always wanted to camp

       the near green hill across the river

       rising straight up

      

       and there in two low areas, on the way back –

       near the spring and above the pond –

       the scarlet gift

       of lobelia

 dear ma

Podcast: Four Poems

To hear Louise Runyon read some of her new work, listen to this podcast:

https://podopshost.com/63a9b01bb9aed/2328

This podcast is an initiative of the Grief Walking project, and includes a brief interview with Louise on transcending grief.

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