“The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it. A good poem helps to change the shape of the universe, helps to extend everyone’s knowledge of himself and the world around him.” —Dylan Thomas
Sammy Hagar
Sammy made her way to Idaho when she was a junior in high school. Entranced by Boise’s eclectic music scene, she quickly found her people and got to work. “I became a lead journalist for a music magazine and started my own magazine with my best friend that soon was covering shows across the nation,” Sammy shared. “I ended up marrying that best friend, and we've been together for almost a decade. Nowadays, I spend my time as a journalist, ambassador, public speaker, marketing specialist, and creative.”
She discovered her passion for the written word when she was very young—penning short stories as early as 5, entering contests by 8 and winning them throughout her school-aged years. At age 13, Sammy became the youngest member of a spoken word group and that solidified her career path. “I knew then that I wanted to do writing and public speaking for the rest of my life.”
Sammy draws inspiration from the world around her but can always be moved by music. “I have hundreds of hours of music (no joke) on my playlists, and it's all categorized for moods to get me ready for a run, to work, to take on the day, or even just to go to bed!”
You can read more of Sammy’s work and learn about her upcoming novels online at clippings.me/sammyhager.
Christy Claymore
As a freelance writer and editor, Christy can never be sure where inspiration will strike. “Sometimes as I am working on other projects, an unrelated thought or image will interrupt, and I'll have to pause the task to get a line or so down. That sort of thing happens in the middle of the night too,” Christy said. “For this reason, I usually have a notebook near at all times.”
A writer since childhood, Christy often struggled academically as a kid but was able to take solace in her love of writing. Like many, it was a teacher that inspired her to hone her craft. “Writing was always something that seemed to save me in that way. I could do that one thing well, and I loved it. Thankfully, my 5th grade teacher noticed and sent me to a "Young Writers" conference. I didn't know it at the time, but he also kept all my writing to show to his future students. After I graduated college, he sent me a packet with all this writing I had forgotten about. It meant a lot to see my scrawlings from when I was ten years old. Teachers like him (Mr. Keiser) are invaluable.”
Christy is an emerging Treasure Valley poet whose work can be found locally in places like Writers in the Attic, an anthology series published by The Cabin. She also was featured on MING Studio’s My On Mondays podcast.
“I am learning to be more bold in sharing my work and receiving feedback. I have a handful of fellow writers I do this with. It's important to get good feedback, even if it's sometimes hard to swallow criticism -- you only grow if your blind spots are revealed.”
Oh, Gentle Stream
by Sammy Hagar
Oh, gentle stream,
Gentle, flowing brook of green,
Only trees and I have seen,
The way you kiss the shore tonight
Your gentle flow,
Your steady rise,
Your persistence,
And gentle eyes,
Your beautiful voice and soft refrains,
And here I listen, my body twain
Upon the shore formed by your pain,
And all is lost in soft refrains;
Your reflective eyes,
Your cold, teal kiss,
The gentle swaying of your hips,
Your flowing hair,
You comb through with leaves,
Your gentle eyes
Lost in the trees,
‘Til all is quiet,
You whisper your refrains,
And still, I listen, my body twain,
Waiting for you to call my name;
Oh, gentle stream,
Gentle, flowing brook of green,
Only trees and I have seen,
the way you kiss the shore tonight…
The Sky, an Abracadabra
by Christy Claymore
Abracadabra: “I will create as I speak.”
The sky, bird and wind-waxed
presents plain and sacred colors
rising and falling finally
with the sun caught in clouds
setting gradually, then suddenly.
The sky finds its symbolic nerve
in constellations threading the expanses
f a black curtain, falling to deep blue,
ascending to early gray,
waking the first lone,
bold bird who unbravely
breaks silence with a simple song,
raising fully and--eventually--
an entire chorus,
bringing up the sun,
moving stillness as a new horizon
appears gold upon its canvas,
the moon lingering pink in tree branches.
This simple complexity
couldn’t just be made up
but it is, entirely,
by a song too deep to hear,
whispering an early Abracadabra,
waking days with live utterances,
pouring speech into primal silences,
singing the sky to opening, to change,
as it does always, all over again.
“The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it. A good poem helps to change the shape of the universe, helps to extend everyone’s knowledge of himself and the world around him.” —Dylan Thomas
