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Diarist: Alaska ~ Fire and Boat
Alaska The first time I went to Alaska, I was working on the Alaska Marine Highway as a Third Assistant Engineer. This series of Diarist Entries will present my journal entries over the two weeks I worked onboard the ferry Malispina. I'm excited to start this series because sea journals, narrative ballads/sea poetry, old sailor yarns, and the like have been very imactful on my writing and art! The entire Diarist concept but especially this series reflects my lineage as a mariner poet.
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet5 years ago in Wander
Diarist: Sea Letters
Letters. What we say out loud, but written. I'm fascinated by letters that capture a specific moment of being; when we sit down to write a letter we pour our presence onto the page. We send a piece of our minds, our bodies in an envelope or a satellite wave.
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet5 years ago in Wander
seascapes
Note: I began writing this poem while working as a Marine Engineer on the R/V Marcus G. Langseth. My favorite rituals onboard all involved staring at the ocean: out the porthole of my cabin, from the treadmill in the gym over the port side, on the stern ramp as close as I could get to the propellors, from the highest point on the ship at night under the only two constellations I know.
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet5 years ago in Poets
Diarist: Alaska ~ Boarding the Malispina
Alaska The first time I went to Alaska, I was working on the Alaska Marine Highway as a Third Assistant Engineer. This series of Diarist Entries will present my journal entries over the two weeks I worked onboard the ferry Malispina. I'm excited to start this series becuase sea journals, narrative ballads/sea poetry, old sailor yarns and the like have been very imactful on my writing and art! The entire Diarist concept but especially this series reflects my lineage as a mariner poet.
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet5 years ago in Wander
Diarist: Sea letters
Since I was young, writing letters was my primary mode of communication: letters from camp to my best friends back home, letters to my pal studying abroad in Germany, emails from work on ships, and as check-ins with my chosen family around the country. I saved as many letters as I could in a file called "correspondence."
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet5 years ago in Psyche
Diarist: John Ashbery
I discovered John Ashbery at Barnes and Noble in Ala Moana Mall. Of course, I had heard his name and wasn't the first person to "discover" Ashbery. But I had only heard his name in the genre of poets I should have already known, poets who were so important my ignorance was unheard of. I walked the two miles from my ship to the closest bookstore along Nimitz Highway, losing myself in the bright Hawaiian heat and my thoughts. The industrial, dusty ports turned into downtown blocks turned into the border between old and new: Kaka'ako, Ala Moana Beach, and the mall opened into new beginnings. When I arrived at the air-conditioned entrance to the bookstore I felt a marked difference between where I had come from and where I'd arrived.
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet5 years ago in Wander
