How did you start writing poetry?  What do you find most compelling about the medium?

I grew up as a lyricist, penning songs for musicians. I began writing poetry five years ago and haven’t turned back. The two forms are different. I fell in love with poetry’s ability to explore layers of meaning and its freedom from the highly metrical format common in lyrics.

What inspired you to write “War Wears Two Faces”?  And how does this coincide with the value you place on empathy?

Unfortunately, war is a thread woven throughout humanity’s timeline. The news tends to focus on the trending war of the moment, and certainly the conflicts in Gaza and Ukraine were top of mind when I wrote this, yet there are more than ten conflicts happening right now. Instead of writing about war itself, I chose to examine our relationship with war, how it affects its first-hand witnesses versus those who simply read about it. For the latter, which includes me, that relationship can be one of indifference. And that’s not a judgment, just an observation about the way indifference becomes our emotional armor. 

I try to avoid imposing my worldview on the reader. Instead, I look for a shared truth or experience, then imagine what that might look like from another person’s perspective. My end point is a poem in which the reader and I both examine something familiar, but from a new point of view.

When writing about topics as pertinent and emotionally demanding as these, what does your creative process look like? Does it differ from when you write about lighter subjects?  

The creation phase may be similar, but the editing phase is different. When writing about something as complex as war, I want to rid the poem of well-worn rants in order for human truths to step forward. In “War Wears Two Faces”, the first drafts read like a protest sign; I needed the final draft to feel like a mirror.

“In the Chattering” is a compelling look into the dynamic between nature and city life.  What influenced you to write this poem?

I’ve lived in cities such as New York and Detroit for much of my adult life. Urban environments have a grand, symphonic quality — non-stop traffic sounds are its rhythm section while horns and sirens are soloists. Likewise for weather. Rain drops have a distinct meter; thunder delivers stirring crescendos. I wanted to weave together these two forms of music within one story. 

What sort of relationship exists between music and the natural world?  What drew you to place an emphasis on this relationship in this poem?

When I lived in New York, weather was an interruption. It affected my commute, my schedule, and definitely my mood.  Now I live in the Coachella Valley, and in the desert weather is an extension of the terrain’s personality. Weather is no longer something that happens to me, it is something I feel part of. It is that new relationship I have with weather that inspired the poem’s final line.

Does your personal life seep into your poetry?  If so, how might that be the case for “War” and “Chattering”?

I’m preparing to publish my first full-length collection, Seeking Ordinary Joy. While I don’t write many memoir poems, this collection follows an allegorical arc from restlessness to healing and happiness. Within my collection, “War Wears Two Faces” appears early in that journey, while “In the Chattering” begins the story’s turn. This is a journey I have travelled, and one I hope leaves familiar footprints for the reader.

Read DJ’s poems, “In the Chattering” and “War wears two faces” in dulcet Literary magazine, vol. One, Issue No. 2