She runs a blog called The Drugstore Notebook.
I won’t lie. I haven’t visited much. That said, the few times I have been able to override my remarkable laziness, I’ve been impressed every time.
She is called Ana Maria Caballero.
Currently, Ana Maria lives in Bogotá, Colombia along with her husband and her nine-month old son. As she tells it, her blog came about during her one of her son’s naps, her inspiration unfolding and leading her to The Drugstore Notebook. As well it should have because her favorite things, according to her blog, are literature, poetry, reading, writing, book stores and used books. Far be it for me to say that I’m not a fan of homework but props to Ana Maria for her studious nature.
I want to tell you all something.
There are poets, and then there are game changers. Perhaps this is a bit of a stretch, considering I’ve only read a few poems, but I’m willing to bet Ana Maria is a game changer. Why? Take a look at the following piece.
My Nudity in All its Forms
Two years ago, I mistook the apple for a peach:
1. Two cases of imported beers carried 6 flights
2. Glasses instead of contacts because I can’t be bothered
3. I make you climb 6 flights of stairs to drink imported beer
4. I make you have me
5. You have me
6. You buy breakfast
7. You say you had fun
8. I bite down hard
9. Say nothing
To say that her poetry is unusual would be an understatement. Or perhaps it’s just me. Being unusual, unique is not a bad thing. In fact, in Ana Maria’s case, it is very much a good thing. Her poetry is so down to earth and yet so…unassuming. I’d liken her word to a wisp of smoke, wholly capable of escaping the notice yet, once one does take notice, it’s hard for one to not take a bit of pleasure in the mere formulation of it, the way it plays and transforms in the wind. Not only is her poetry worthy of being captured, even if it is for mere moments, but these works are unashamed.
At least for my part, what I feel is a brooking of no nonsense, an in your face proclamation, “This is who I am and this is what I love.”
What’s even more compelling about the renderings of Ana Maria Caballero is how she can take things that many of us would consider mundane and put such a spin on them that one must pay heed and devour each word, as if we are seeing these things for the first time. Take her piece New Computer, as a perfect example:
Because this is the first
poem I write on my new
I want it to be clean.
It will go into a file where
a new book of poems
will gather over
to another book
will have another file.
There will also be
a file for poems
that are nothing
This will be
one of them
and it is
Of course I disagree that this poem is “nothing much.” Of course, that depends upon whom you are, what you take out of each individual piece. For me, I feel as if I can identify easily through the simplicity of the thoughts being expressed, the notion writing that very first poem on a brand new computer. Perhaps this piece strikes a chord with me because when I received my new laptop, I couldn’t wait to write a piece on it. I did write a piece. And it was nothing much, being neatly filed away with everything else I consider nothing much.
And therein lay the power of Ana Maria’s word: her ability to connect.
Her poetry reminds me of a quote from Bruce Lee, a quote that I like to bandy about when I come across work that I believe is remarkable for its simplicity and ease of delivery: “Simplicity is key to brilliance.”
I would contend that Ana Maria Caballero is most definitely brilliant. But that’s just my opinion. If you’d like to see for yourself, I encourage you to head on over to The Drugstore Notebook and have a look.
To Ana Maria, thank you for allowing We Drink Because We’re Poets to feature you today.
To all of the patrons, readers and friends of the blog, thank you for your time.
Until next time, pick your poison; preach your passion.