Stephen Furlong : part five

What do you find most difficult about writing poetry?

When I try to say something worth breath, I struggle with doubt. And it’s not just a poetry thing, but it definitely comes out when I’m working with words. It’s like a shadow in the room and when my head gets loud, it overtakes the bookshelves, the pens run out of ink, I crumble up paper, and I sit seemingly defeated. And that happens more and less now that I have a chapbook out in the wild and I’m doing the wonderful, scary, exciting, terrifying thing that is sending out my full-length. But there’s an old song and one of the lines is this: My fears have worn me out. And I’m choosing more often than not to not get worn out by my fears because they are exhausting—and there is so much light to be found, and when there’s light, I feel like I can do just about anything.

Stephen Furlong : part four

What poets changed the way you thought about poetry?

As mentioned earlier, I had a less than stellar first year of college, but I still learned a great deal about being a poet and human that year. That year I developed a bond with one of the professors—Hey Jamie D’Agostino!— and with him alongside, I was constantly surrounded by good reads. We read Mary Ruefle in his class and he introduced me to such dynamic poets as Lynda Hull and Jericho Brown outside of it. When I went to my community college, I made it a point to read every single book of poetry at their library. There I fell in love with Steve Orlen, Galway Kinnell, Cornelius Eady, among others. I also was introduced Yusef Komunyakaa during my stay. I must’ve borrowed Neon Vernacular at least a dozen times the first year I read his work. As a result, I still hold onto a line of his whenever I go to the page: Say something worth breath.  Currently, such luminaries as Chen Chen, Devin Kelly, Amorak Huey, Chelsea Dingman, Jay Besemer, Jessica Lynn Suchon, Lauren Milici, Kaveh Akbar, and Paige Lewis all keep me afloat and constantly challenge and reward the way I see and interact with poetry.  I could go on for days. Months. Years. If you let me.

Stephen Furlong : part three

What poetry books have you been reading lately?

This answer could be really long, but I’ll try to keep it small-ish. These five books have been steady and reliable for quite some time now.

John Taylor Unmonstrous, YesYes Books, 2019

Alison C. Rollins Library of Small Catastrophes, Copper Canyon Press, 2019

Aaron Coleman Threat Come Close, Four Way Books, 2018

Kayleb Rae Candrilli’s What Runs Over, YesYes Books, 2017

Emma Bolden House Is An Enigma, Southeast Missouri State University Press, 2018

Stephen Furlong : part two

When you require renewal, is there a particular poem or book you return to? A particular author?

Without a doubt in my mind it’s “The Journey” by Mary Oliver. My first year of undergraduate studies wasn’t very good from an academically successful year; by the end of the year, I had a 1.63 GPA and was asked not to return in the fall. But, in the midst of an emotional day in March that year, I received a message from my mother that was simple and direct—“Thinking of you! Have a great day! Love you!” and attached in the message was Oliver’s “The Journey”. Even though I had been familiar with Oliver and one of my favorite anthologies of poetry I owned housed the poem, I had never read the poem until that afternoon. I sure went through a lot of tissues that day, but, I also found something I often find in poetry: healing. Mary Oliver is certainly one of those poets I always return to when I think my poetry world is going to hell—and somehow, some way, things don’t seem as dark. I miss her.

Stephen Furlong : part one

Stephen Furlong received his M.A. in Professional Writing from Southeast Missouri State University. He is the author of the chapbook What Loss Taught Me, which was published by Nostrovia! Press in Fall 2018. His poems, interviews, and book reviews have appeared in Louisiana Literature, Bone & Ink, and Full Stop, among others. He currently serves as a Staff Reviewer for LitStyle, a subset of the literary journal Five:2:One. He can be found on Twitter @StephenJFurlong.

How did you first engage with poetry?

I was fortunate to have a grade school English teacher who had a passion for poetry; her name was Mrs. Smircich and, for her class, we were required to memorize two poems and recite them in class. I cannot recall the poems I memorized, but there are two bright light bulbs of memory from that experience: we were forbade from memorizing Shel Silverstein and I was introduced to the first poem that truly shook my core from the inside—“Trees” by Joyce Kilmer. While some of my classmates snickered at “breast” and “bosom”, the lull of the rhymes reminded me of prayer. Every time I am awe-struck by nature Kilmer’s spirit nods in approval. That year I ended up reading a lot of Robert Frost who was the first poet I ever loved. As it were, I had a healthy respect for nature poets so I found Emerson eventually, and before I knew it, my love of poetry had begun.