Author: J. De La O
Jeni De La O is an Afro-Cuban poet and storyteller living in Detroit. She is a 2021 Kresge Arts in Detroit Fellow, a founding member of The Estuary Collective, and the Associate Editor at Frontier Poetry. She writes the BROWN STUDY at The Poetry Question and her chapbook, SOFIAS, won the inaugural Tiran Burrell Chapbook Prize from Knights Library Magazine. Jeni has told stories with The Secret Society of Twisted Storytellers, Lamplight Festival, MouthPiece Stories, and The Moth MainStage. Her poetry has appeared in Poet Lore, Columbia Journal, Sugar House Review, and elsewhere. Jeni's debut poetry film, "every diaspora poem is about mangos" was co-created with REEL CLEVER FILMS and premiered in the Spring of 2022 and screened at IFFY. Follow her on twitter @jenidelao and check out her work at jenidelao.com
May 27, 2022
Thanni paints the scenery for us clearly—the love between families, the high stakes involved in pursuing change (fly/break, free/remembered), and nestled in these intense bonds, intense violence. – Jeni De La O
December 30, 2021
“Libeté is a play in three acts masquerading as a stream of consciousness poem. As the poet unspools her themes, the importance of performance and play takes center stage as a means to exploring the matter at hand: liberty. Freedom. Liberation. But not just any liberation, Libeté”. – Jeni De La O
June 30, 2021
What sustains us? What nourishes our bones and our souls? How do we sustain each other? In the space between our most authentic selves and our most complicated desires, how do we connect with one another?
April 29, 2021
“Home-Going Celebration” is a sly poem that bubbles with contradictions. An elegy rooted in mourning, the language pops with the dizzy rush of one sip too many.
April 1, 2021
BROWN STUDY: “SELF PORTRAIT AS A MERMAID OR DEAD GIRL” – GAIA RAJAN
I started thinking about who owns grief, how memory and grief affect the body, and soon enough, the poem turned into an elegy for someone I’ve lost.
February 25, 2021
white people, do not recognize the need for succor in Black women, as early as ZERO years old. Their screams (voiced concerns or cries for help) appear no more urgent or fearsome than the twinkling of Christmas lights