The writing offered up by this year’s cast of poets provided me with a richer appreciation of life in Cascadia. The workshops were of intimate size and even though writing is intimidating for me, everyone was friendly to what I had to say. No pressure, no fear participating.

Exposure to so many different cultures, ages, styles of poetry. Not just the usual Seattle names. Missed the Canadians of other years but their absence is understandable given the ignorance & hatefulness of the current asshole President & his evil minions. The panel discussions were outstanding - great insight into the philosophy behind the poetics. Any chance of getting a food truck to come by?

This festival was so welcoming and inclusive that I felt like an important part of it even though it was my first time there and I knew only one other poet. I was exhilarated by the sense that we poets are doing important work that connects people, is recognized, and is necessary to the flourishing of humankind and all beings of the earth.

I am thankful that I attended! It is a rare gift to be able to meet and learn from well-known poets whose work I've admired for years. I met many wonderful people at the festival! Spending several days with other people who care about poetry like I do was incredibly special. I felt like I was part of a community of instant friends.

Thank you for producing such a wonderful community event with such a diverse range of voices. After many years involved in poetry, I have drifted from that world since Covid and it was refreshing for me to return for such a supportive and community-oriented event. I was able to reconnect with old friends and collaborators and meet some new ones too. I appreciate that the festival was intentional in fostering connections and allowing so much space for everyone to connect outside of and beyond the readings.

The sense of community was one of the best aspects of the festival. The diversity of the poets themselves and their poetry was fantastic. The bioregional poetics from a sense of place makes this festival hold a very special place on my calendar.

Being a part of the Cascadia Poetry Festival is an amazing experience. Hearing from all the poets and learning writing techniques at the workshops is invaluable. I have attended twice and will come back year after year.

Exceptional diversity, inclusion, multi-lingual, multi cultural, equality, respect, and friendship. Affordable. Well organized. Well run. Fosters new creativity and career development.

Educational and good for mental health.

The Cascadia Poetry Festival (and Cascadia Poetics Lab programming in general) is an incredibly rich and dense fount of education and connection for poets in Cascadia and the Pacific Northwest. There, I found world class readings, panels and workshops (and despite the best intentions, many organizations and festivals strive for this, but fail to reach the quality of this gathering), but more importantly, I was welcomed into a network working poets, worker-poets, academics, youth, teachers and activists who are truly shaping the poetics, politics and praxis of what it means to grow, write and drive change in the region. I'm coming back and can't wait.

The festival provided a great mix of poets. It was inspiring to hear new and familiar voices in an intimate and collegial setting.

This gathering ignites a creative flame that summons the inner artist and poet for us all. It strengthens community through storytelling and conveys the beauty of individual and collective expression, a true Art of being Human.

I spent Saturday and Sunday afternoon, October 9th and 10th, attending the tenth annual Cascadia Poetry Festival held at the Rainier Community Beach Club in Seattle. I recall the breathtaking brilliance of early autumn, driving south along Lake Washington Blvd to Seward Park and beyond.  

My gratitude for those presenters who honored the poets we lost this year including Chinese American poet Koon Woon, 1949-2026, who left way too soon as Paul Nelson tells us in the refrain: forget to die/if you would only forget to die. 

The quality of listening by the audience was reverential as poets read  from the new anthology, Winter in America (Still, by Carbonation Press, editor Greg Bem. This segment at the close of the festival, was why I returned Sunday to read my poem, Sprouting After Rain, that threads locations where we may find wild nettle, khobeza grown in Gaza, and dandelion. The poem implies we may find common ground at the kitchen table with our bowl of soup, the table not a piece of furniture but a hearth. As I read my poem, the audience quietly listening, I felt grief for those who have perished, and those who did not perish but continue to face danger. 

Is it possible to transform a weekend gathering toward the celebratory of human connection? That is what I believe happened.  For a moment I was among family, the family of working poets, like one of the youngest poets from the anthology, Rhea Melina who read while her daughter of seven or eight stood nearby.  Rhea read her poem, I enlist the elements, that begins with the question:  Are your children your weapons?  

You could say the festival returned me to my family, those working poets, alive today, who write, resist, give thanks, listen and support one another because it is what we do and we must.

- Denise Calvetti Michaels