Poet of the Month Linda Bratcher Wlodyka
Massachusetts Beat Poet Laureate
Linda Bratcher Wlodyka is the Massachusetts, Beat Poet Laureate, 2023-2025. She retired as an educator from Mt. Greylock Regional School District in Williamstown in 2020. In the summer of 2023-2024, Linda was chosen as a contributor to WordxWord a summer poetry festival in the Berkshires where she collaborated with a team of poets creating a very large poem that was read aloud for the audience at The Mount. She also has held the position as a docent at The Mount from 2002-2006, Edith Wharton’s summer home in Lenox, MA. Linda’s poem, Secret Cottage, was voted Best in the Berkshires in 2012 and she was invited to the Colonial Theater in Pittsfield, MA to read that poem. Linda also previously self-published, Her Spirited Cameo, Voices from the Blue Room and Tick Tock. If Brambles Were Bookends Collected Poems, is Linda’s first full length poetry collection, released September 2023 and published by Human Error Publishing. Linda often writes in stream of consciousness, employing fantasy and fictional themes and frequently when speaking truths, her message includes the whole or we, to mean all artists and writers as the whole of humankind.
Backstory:
I wrote “Colorblind” feeling that I could create an atmosphere celebrating not only the launch of a writer’s book, but also to celebrate color. Much of this poem is fictional. There are, however, glimmers of truth. The subject of the poem did move away and also published a book soon thereafter. Their cover is not at all a close runner-up to Van Gogh’s bedroom. The idea of coloring in the book cover was gleaned from my watching audience members at poetry readings coloring as a relaxing way to accompany listening while a poet reads. And I do own an orange purse. I feel I created an atmosphere of unexpected events and outcomes, accompanied by tension.
Colorblind
Drops condense on my etched goblet.
It’s summer, you have moved even further away. It’s not relevant since my awareness is limited by what I’ve misinterpreted. Instead, I am stimulated by future events, the color of your poems.
Happenstance creates opportunities. A row of chairs is full, save one empty chair next to you. When hesitation leaves me speechless, I pivot to turn away, you tap the chair say, “Sit here, it’s not taken.” I oblige.
Nearby, red wrought iron handrails connect to stage’s banister. A purple and pink polka dot doll is propped upon red truck. She peers between each spindle cries out, “Mama,” while spinning tires struggle to climb up green ramp, I presume a prop for another performance.
You turn to me, place your latest book in my hand. Your cover art resembles Van Gogh’s bedroom, instead yours is neutral, black and white. You whisper that you will be signing copies at the café nearby tomorrow.
My first instinct is a congratulatory gesture, a handshake. I smile place my hand on yours. You tell me what time to meet you tomorrow. I nod. I notice the café is titled, “The Colorful Mug.”
I order an Irish Cream, adore the mug’s green shamrock, its tartan plaid. You hand me an autographed copy of your book. Pulling colored pencils from my orange purse, Van Gogh’s room becomes a bright fortress. I hand you pencils. Every cover evolves into an overture of brilliance, I read the word, “colorblind” that you write boldly above Vincent’s bedstead.
Interview