Poetry & Music Project Book 19/20

POETRY

& MUSIC PROJECT

2019-2020

POETRY

& MUSIC PROJECT

The Poetry & Music Project connects student poets and their words with composers who create original music, exploring the connections between poetry and music.

In Fall 2019, Opera Omaha and Nebraska Writers Collective invited students in grades K-12 from Nebraska and Iowa to submit works of poetry on themes of creativity, community, identity, and youth. Nebraska Writers Collective created prompts for inspiration and Opera Omaha and Nebraska Writers Collective facilitated writing workshops focused on writing for music. Opera Omaha received 29 poems submitted by 22 students! The poets are students in grades 4-12 from five Nebraska Counties: Cedar, Douglas, Gage, Lancaster, and Sarpy.

From the pool of poetry submissions, composers Frances Pollock and Matt Browne, alumni of the American Opera Project Composers & the Voice program, selected ten of these poems by nine poets to set to music based on what inspired them. In Spring 2020, the poets and composers came together in Omaha to collaborate on these original pieces in music workshops with Opera Omaha’s Holland Community Opera Fellows.

The concert originally scheduled for April 2020 has been postponed, but digital copies of the music are available on the Opera Omaha website.

The Poetry & Music Project is produced in partnership with Nebraska Writers Collective and The American Opera Project.

The Poetry & Music Project is funded in part by Humanities Nebraska

POEMS SELECTED TO BE SET TO MUSIC 4

“Earth She Is” MaKayla Bemley, Logan Fontenelle Middle School

5

“Untitled: My Dad Was a Solider” Shaye-Maleah Howe, Beatrice High School

6

“A Broken Me” Blakely Kenzy, Elkhorn Middle School

7

“The Question” Nathaniel Kielian, Creighton Prep

9

“White Trash” Josiah Lindstrom, Beatrice High School

10

“Youth” Zachary Scott, Beatrice High School

11

“The Cedar County Fair” Breah Steffen, Holy Trinity Elementary

12

“Life in Nebraska” Ava Stewart, Holy Trinity Elementary Hartington

13

“Showing Cattle” Ava Stewart, Holy Trinity Elementary Hartington

14

“A Silent Land” Emmalee Undereiner, Beatrice High School

ALL SUBMISSIONS 15

“Mr. No Name” MaKayla Bemley, Logan Fontenelle Middle School

16

“Untitled” Timothy Boomgarden, Elkhorn Middle School

17

“Untitled” Trinity Eichenberger, Beatrice High School

18

“Yellow” Lillie Henry, Gretna High School

21

“Disappointment” Jules Joens, Elkhorn Middle School

23

“Untitled” Sierra Jordan, Beatrice High School

24

“Triage” Nathaniel Kielian, Creighton Prep

25

“Life” Kyson Lammers, Holy Trinity Elementary Hartington

26

“The Youth” Isabelle Lewis, Gretna Middle School

28

“When the Sky Found the Earth” Sophia Mason, Omaha Central High School

29

“Clouds are Formed in Dreams” Sophia Mason, Omaha Central High School

31

“Identity” Luke Netherton, Beatrice High School

32

“Art” Madison Oestreich, Beatrice High School

33

“Have You Forgotten?” Cadence Smith, Lincoln High School

34

“Orbits Filled With Tears” Cadence Smith, Lincoln High School

35

“The Goat” Breah Steffen, Holy Trinity Elementary Hartington

36

“The Eyes of a Child” Emmalee Undereiner, Beatrice High School

37

“Untitled” Kate Wegner, Gretna Middle School

Earth She Is MaKayla Bemley If you go outside at night You’ll find that the world is asleep The Earth Cries out because of the hurt and secrets she keeps The brisk winds play sacred tunes As the Earth chokes on the words that no one is bold enough to say I’m dying!

She says I’m dying!

But no one listens as the world is asleep.

4

Untitled: My Dad Was a Solider Shaye-Maleah Howe My dad was a soldier, All his life he’d dreamt to be.

His goal in life to save the world, He keep us safe, and free.

He was gone away from all he loved, But he held his head up high.

He was there to make others’ lives As glorious as mine.

When I was born, he was away, At boot camp on that day.

He cried inside to hold me, That would happen months away.

And then it came, that fateful day, when I was only three.

He came into harm’s way.

Yet in his suffering moments, Came through his selfless ways.

When I was one he held me close And promised me the moon.

The love he had inside his heart, Reached further than that moon.

He rescued then his brothers, His love for them shone through.

Just like the love he had for me So dedicated and so true.

When I was two he had to go, To a country far away.

He hid his job with love and pride God Bless the U.S.A.

There’s not a day that goes by That I’m wishing for you to be here, To help me with my troubles But I always know you’re near.

5

A Broken Me Blakely Kenzy Happy Am I happy Truly happy Do I feel okay Or is it the mask I put on every day Are you okay They all say I brush my hair but I don’t really care my image not worthy of the critique of others My smile is broken The frown bursting out at my darkest hour I sit and think Too afraid to say What my heart truly feels My brain exhausted From the hurt That comes from inside me I will never be good enough Never Who even cares I certainly don’t If that means I can fit in

6

The Question Nathaniel Kielian I say “we” “We” meaning everyone “We” meaning no one “We”, meaning me And yet, “we” meaning you “We”, referring to a nation And that being an individual This “we” I speak of... it’s the suffering.

The lonely The impoverished The dying...

The dead

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But further, The loved The lively The young And the rich “We” is exclusive And at the same time all-encompassing By definition, communal And intimate But in the end, Always ambiguous And so I am asked, “Who is we?”

Well,

Who is we?

8

White Trash Josiah Lindstrom White trash, bad Kid, waste of Space tax dollars Spent on my Mental health

White trash Hood Rat Bad Kid

Omni, boys Town, jail Ceaders shelter, Mays, Omaha Foster, care,

Not Intelligence Boredom Or Trauma

200mg

They see What They want But not What i am

50mg 10mg 20mg 75mg Suspension, in Trouble, Mad, Step, Dad Problems. I used to Stay up all night To Yelling and drama

Pills since I Was Six take Ten daily meds They make Me sick Therapy since Five over 18 quit

9

Youth Zachary Scott Through the severed trees in a willowed oak Bears an ancient toad Thinking of his lonesome Cold and alone he stands Holding the sorrowful emotions Unable to reach his rainy past

10

The Cedar County Fair Breah Steffen Caramel apples, cotton candy, Here comes Charlotte, Jean, and Andy.

Grab a program, find a seat, The 4-Hers are ready to compete.

Round and round the ring they go, Who will earn the best of show?

Judge grabs the mic and shares some tips, 4-Hers shift and bite their lips?

Ivy the goat wins the class, She’s rewarded with green grass.

Everyone’s excited to celebrate, The Cedar County Fair is GREAT!

11

Life in Nebraska Ava Stewart As I step outside I hear corn rustle Across the road the combines bustle The combine churns on, row by row, got to get it out before the snow The scent of hay gently blows in the air A few bits flutter in my hair A Charolais calf bawls in the distance Thanking God for its existence Inside the house, mom’s homemade bread, Sweet and warm thoughts fill my head Clean and cool, the gusts of wind sun starts to warm, I swear it grinned Far away, a sunset gleams, The day is done now time for dreams Oh Nebraska, what a sight, The place that’s home, it feels just right

12

Showing Cattle Ava Stewart Washing, brushing, combing, cleaning Dust so thick you’re barely seeing Cramming in another show Wait which heifer’s gonna go?

Time to get out! I hear the trailer rattle, Great, now it’s flies we’ve got to battle!

Clop, Clop go your heifer’s feet As you gently stride down the street Time to wash, head to the rack!

As you soak, you reach over her back Okay guys, time to head back, Then we can go grab a snack!

Pine shavings fly everywhere In the stall and in my hair A lot of work, here and there?

Nope, it’s just another fair.

13

A Silent Land Emmalee Undereiner A creek untouched by human hand A place where I can escape the world’s demand Only here I find the solace nature can bring For in the silence I am king With gentle hand and heart I reign As the wild flows through many a vein Upon my head I wear a crown of rose While to oak harbor my woes They comfort me until I too feel a part of this earth Many with to lower my worth For I’m the child who runs rampant in the wild Never shall another’s words make me feel defiled Because I wear the badge of flower child I live among flora and fauna I sing among them as a prima donna I sing the song of the wild

14

Mr. No Name MaKayla Bemley I’m a victim in my own game Mr. No Name Anger, Sadness There are split roads, we go our separate ways An ongoing of feeling numb and lonely Break these chains!

My emotions fluctuate Maybe this is my fate But I’m so infatuated Could I really be happy on my own?

15

Untitled Timothy Boomgarden Mamma always told me to fly Dad always said never get too high People looking at me, callin’ me a child Held on a chain, I just wanna run wild I get told I’m loved then I full on spiral Wanna be happy, but I can’t even smile Remember putting soap on the floor, sliding down the tile If happy is a place, I haven’t been there in a while Bothered with questions, always on trial The worst time in my life, was probably last year How is everything so messed up, it seems so clear You’ll never realize, my biggest fear Is when I walk upstairs, and look in the mirror Reminded that I fail, but don’t shed a tear My goodness big bro, I wish you were here And I know, this probably really isn’t fair That I dreamed in a world that everyone cared I just feel like, feel like I can’t trust That something will change when it feel like a bust I feel so trapped, inside this cage My only feelings, depression and rage My amazing father, got divorced from my own mother I’m so lost, 200 miles away from my own brother I feel like a bullet, went straight through my heart Exploding inside of me, tearing me apart Never giving up, until all that’s left is shards Like at a poker table, but everyone was dealt bad cards It’s sad, I just wanted my parents to be proud So silent, but I’ve never been so loud

16

Untitled Trinity Eichenberger The beauty of youth How being young is fun It’s typical That life is simple Not having bills to pay Or worries that stay Climbing trees And enjoying the autumn breeze Discovering who I am Or if I like a boy named Sam The misery of youth What do I wear What do I say How do I act Will they like me Or will they not Why don’t they like me I am always stressed Over a test That I know wasn’t my best I’m constantly placed underneath all of this pressure Life is becoming a major depressor

The difference in today’s youth Social interaction Is a major distraction To my brand new phone I’m feeling very alone Social media is supposed to allow us to connect But is making me reflect If I’m perfect In schools there is so much violence And they tell us to hold silence Yet where there is defiance Let’s give help to people with guns That are harming our sons

17

Yellow Lillie Henry Creativity is Colors of an extravagant sunset.

Red, orange, yellow, violet Twisting and Swirling Like a magnificent dance, Spinning and turning each other in a waltz, Their feet quicken With crescendos and decrescendos of vibrant color, Swaying and bending, Illustrating whirls of beautiful movement Leaving everyone tapping their feet, Making their souls ache for more of the sunlight As it fades away in the darkness The light, The joy, The warmth of the yellow Engulfs the souls like the song of the golden canary The yellow graces us with happiness that we have never felt before.

Community is A beehive.

With workers striving to their goal of sweet honey, The bees help each other to raise the youth, Protect the hive and the queen, They rush to each flower Determine to get nectar,

18

Powerfully Purring, Buzzing, Happy to make a difference, The bees go to yellow daffodils, Optimistic with the hope of helping their community, The freshness of the summer air is A friendly reminder of life’s new beginnings, The bright yellow sun with its rays coming down like a hug around the world That we desperately need, The yellow is there, In the cheerful daffodils, The friendly sun, The optimistic bees, And even in the fresh summer air, The yellow flourishes our happiness into joy that will never leave.

Youth is Peter Pan and the Lost Boys.

Exploring the mermaid lagoon, Battling the codfish, Captain Hook, Flying with unceasing happy thoughts, Telling their adventures to everyone they meet, They stay in Neverland, Eating yellow bananas with gleeful faces, As Tinkerbell showers them with golden pixie dust, The yellow is here too, The yellow keeps them young Even though their bodies will wrinkle like wet newspaper, Yellow is youth The yellow flys the heart, to the second star to the right And straight on to morning to Neverland, Where we will never grow up.

My Identity is Like the universe is to humankind Graceful light that does pirouettes across my eyes, Just out of reach.

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It leaves me lost in breathless wonder and awe...

The stars leap across my face, Stars die, creating beautiful displays of glimmering beacons and brilliant vitalities Stars are born, casting fluorescent glows and luminosities, A thinker...

A writer...

My identity is like my creativity, A vast galaxy full of nebulas and cosmos, Dazzling and Baffling, And will leave everyone wanting more of my bright self, Of the yellow joy, that’s embedded into my heart Like a lighthouse, To the ones surrounded by the dark, lonely gloom, The yellow shines with unceasing happiness and hope for all to witness.

Community Creativity, Identity, And Youth, Is what pulls us together, The yellow is just glue that holds us, Like sunshine that brightens darkness It is the hope in a hopeless world The color, feeling, smell, scent, taste of yellow Is the North Star that shines through the black sky, Yellow is key to a better, happier world, We are the lock, We must decide to either let the yellow in…

Or be consumed by the blackness.

20

Disappointment Jules Joens Cold raindrops fall down on my cheeks But is it rain?

Or is it my salty tears?

Arms numb, heart racing Twisted thoughts run through my mind But should I act on them?

Fingers find my hair Digging into my skull Pressure builds up inside of me And I threaten to break Like a delicate porcelain doll.

Hateful words flash across my cracked phone screen Cold fingers hold it close But I am not here to read them Not mentally, at least.

Limbs shut down Mind shatters, And just like that, I am no longer with you.

You pretend to love me To be fascinated by my accomplishments But you lie To yourself And to me.

21

After I am gone You continue to use me For your own personal gain, Twisting my words And your own.

As crimson blood pours out of me, Yours continues to pump, fresh and new But should it be this way?

Should I really be the one gone?

Do you look in the mirror?

Do you think about me?

Of course you don’t Your goal was to remove me Remove me from this twisted world I’m sorry I can never forgive myself I put myself in the limelight Tore myself away from family, Friends.

But did I gain anything?

I gained nothing but pain Sadness, Guilt, Disappointment.

22

Untitled Sierra Jordan The smells of chipped paint and fresh canvases Coating my inner mind can never put me in a bind Like painting a field of wildflowers in northern Kansas Stiff paint brushes coating a canvas with open possibilities in my mind Pencil dust creating pictures that misunderstood us Dusty floors and dirty tables make me blind to the eye Paintings put together creating a scenery and be greater than us Secret spots to sit and paint that I can only find I’m going to forget what it’s like to sit and relax with the sounds of music that have us I shall sit here and feel the dry paint under my nails and smell the fresh air that has always been kind.

23

Triage Nathaniel Kielian Drowning The sensation It sneaks up on you Until suddenly you’re filled with that panic That terror The sickening idea that you aren’t going to make it That you can’t handle any more Just one push and you’ll break Love has its balance And now I’ve overdrawn Get a notice in the mail Cancelling passion And suspending devotion Resources limited Assets spread thin A scalpel to my heart Let the triage begin A sacrifice at the altar of our tears

24

Life Kyson Lammers Wailing babies as I walk by.

Listening to their very first cry.

Toddlers whining calling me.

Soon they come with a scraped knee.

Whining because they lost by 2.

Telling them it only counts if you had fun, too.

Doing sports in the summer.

Vacation was a bit bad.

Buying candy becoming more lonesome.

Start of school.

But acting like it’s cool.

Got bad grades.

Another year.

Going to more parties each month.

Halloween comes.

No more candy overloads.

Graduating high school.

Off to college.

Finishing final exam.

Coming home because there’s nowhere to go.

Got a job off to move.

No more love.

25

The Youth Isabelle Lewis We are the future, we are the youth We beg you to help To give us a hand But do you really know the truth?

No one ever gives us the time of day You say we are too young or too dumb It’s like you’ve trapped us in our own prisons Boxes and bars that you’ve built for us How dare we think outside these walls How dare we spread these lies How dare we justify our actions And call out yours A girl, a Muslim, a this, a that But of course we tell you, “these are no acts” But you only ever smile and tip us your hat Never comprehending our brutal facts

26

The fact is: We are smart, we are brave, and we are undeniably loud But it’s ok, take your time We’ve already waited for our voices to be found So, what’s a while longer?

We have patience, but if we wait Not even the warmonger Will be able to tell us our fate So take a seat Get some pen and ink Listen closely, as I won’t repeat I’m taking a stand, breaking these walls I won’t be confined By your rules and laws I speak for those of us who can’t or won’t I speak for us: The youth

27

When the Sky Found the Earth Sophia Mason I remember the moonlight reigning over the waves crashing against the shore, the melodic tides lulling me to sleep I remember feeling the cold-water rush over me then slowly start to become familiar I remember the taste of blue moon ice-cream How it touched my tongue as if it was made from dreams I remember being shrouded under covers, after hours of swimming, the late afternoon sun streaming through the window, the grownups chatting downstairs, their voices growing fainter…fainter I remember thinking how secluded we were from the rest of the world It was like our own planet we were lucky enough to inhabit for just a few days My cousin and I would call it “rich people land” I remember how excited I was when a girl asked if I wanted to go frog hunting at the creek as the sky was beginning to turn orange and melt into the lake I remember the scent of fresh clouds being the only fragrance in the air I remember my cousin and I diving into the black raspberry bushes that surrounded the house Our legs, arms and feet bare and vulnerable to the thorns I remember my feet gliding over the cool grass, the breeze whispering on my face, I was so light, there was no burden outside and for the first time in a while I believed I could fly I remember laying in the innertube, the sky reflected the depths of the lake and the lake reflected the sudden bursts of sparkling colors in the sky I would stare as the world and sky began to merge and become one and I would drift away and almost fall into space In those days I didn’t think about anything that existed outside of what was placed before my eyes Every moment I felt, I knew what I felt and everything was sunshine and swimming with clean grass and still skies I realize how many years now separate the memories, how it feels like a dream but still so clear How the sky found the Earth And when the sky finds the Earth There’s no need to fly

28

Clouds are Formed in Dreams Sophia Mason Sometimes I can’t tell if the clouds are yellow or pink But I don’t care to figure it out My eyes are reflected in a sense of mystery Reminding me of when I was small and coated in dreams With mulberry stains dripping down my chin Spitting out cherry seeds on carefree evenings My mind only touched like sunshine on clouds Not others lives fogging it out Sunshine doesn’t sink into me just right anymore I don’t want the gold light streaming down my face turn into bright blue light plastered it on like a mask Give me sparkling squinted eyes in shades of orange Let me feel the world breathe and blow me away Let me see stars So I can make pretty pictures And write with flowers and thorns Let me just not care again I want to live without the chain I wound around my head Like the umbilical cord grounded me to life This chain grounds me in my thoughts instead I feel chained down yet I still feel myself floating away Live without moments slipping out from my thoughts and through my hands like sand to lie buried, forgotten and gray under the floorboards below Live without constantly scrambling around for a map I’ll never find I’ve never been good with directions anyways Live without the clock constantly running in the back of my head I can’t trust it anymore Because it’s changed from an hour to sixty minutes And it’s changed from a minute to sixty seconds

29

It’s all changing too fast While I’m changing too slow I’m afraid I will be left in the dust of the world Feeling the dissatisfaction settle on my eyes And cloud in the back of my throat So I’ll eventually choke from still hands and frozen tongues Because sometimes it’s not the action that ruins a person But a lack of action that will But I’m young right?

I have time right?

This is normal right?

Am I… right?

Will I ever feel right?

There was once a day in people’s lives where the governor of their existence didn’t exist behind a glass case, speaking in ticks with metal numbers and claws Or at least they didn’t realize And long days in the sun became short days frantically obsessing over everything not done But I want to break out of my case, tune the ticks out of my head Listen to the wind instead Dream of what’s possible again Not think so much about how I’ll do it or where I’ll head So call me scared But call me hope-full Call me an explorer of stars and cloud Yeah, call me fearful Because even though stars are full of burning gases stars are formed from wonder And clouds are made of water but clouds are formed with dreams See up in space there’s no need for time I’ll stay on Earth But let me visit the sky once in awhile

30

Identity Luke Netherton The Hideout is a hidden spot alongside the river only a few select people know.

But it is more than just a hidden place where I go It’s a place of comfort and safety Alongside unforetold adventures At The Hideout, you might hear the calming noise of water waving down the stream Or the birds singing a magnificent song While the tree leaves whistle And the wind howls I slid my hand against the rough cement That was there from an old dam run down I skip across the perfectly placed rocks laid throughout the river soaring through the clean but musky air I climb up on their side of the dam with a plan, I spot the perfect oak built for me to climb Running towards the tree I bounce off the side and stretch Reaching for the branch I grabbed the branch pulling myself up using every muscle in my flesh, Branch after branch I swing up, while the leaf tickles me until I reach the top I can see everything, it’s absolute beauty.

The view is surreal Up above I can capture everything all the beauty So extraordinary, and the pain and suffering leaves my body This is more than a safe place It’s a place of peace

31

Art Madison Oestreich A blank canvas sits Supplies are all set to go It’s time to create.

32

Have You Forgotten?

Cadence Smith Have you forgotten how the world use to be?

Have you forgotten love, friendship, passion?

How the world was whole, complete, special.

Now just a pile of rubble, we and other have destroyed it.

Destroyed ourselves, in a way where we hurt other without knowing, we damage ourselves without knowing.

Have you forgotten abut the mistakes we’ve made?

Have you forgotten about the deaths we’ve caused?

Have you forgotten about global warming?

Of course you have, it’s normal human instinct to forget.

But is it fully normal to forget something that’s right in front of your face?

Some so true and clear, that rather than forgetting you’re running?

Running from your true fears, from death, from the world, from yourself.

Running from anything that has nothing and everything to do with you.

Running from the heartbroken dreams you called a perfect world.

We are everything short from perfect.

Distracted by new species and discoveries, putting our hands on anything that’s alive, anything we can try to destroy or use for our own.

Gasses sent to the air, we suffocate ourselves and we count it as an accomplishment.

We suffocate ourselves with our greed.

We suffocate ourselves with our guilt.

We suffocate ourselves with our pride.

We are killing the one friend that never left, killing our world as if we don’t need every single aspect of it to survive.

We don’t do anything.

Have we forgotten our morals?

Have we forgotten our humanity?

Have we forgotten the world?

It seems we have, as Earth is crumbling below our feet, and it seems the world has forgotten the love we used to give it.

33

Orbits Filled with Tears Cadence Smith Teardrops sparkle under the moonlight.

Grasped hands filled with sparks.

Like a million fireflies soaring towards the galaxy.

Hidden scars under blanketed cloth.

Trembling yet forever filled.

The sun rises, I am forgotten.

As the stars disappear from view.

I am the burning fire, glimmering like the others around me.

You may see me but not hear me.

Bulletproofed but silent, free but hands tied.

I was the beginning, you were the end.

The comet blazing through the sky, Burning out before reaching our orbit.

The orbit that we face, that we are forced to face.

It’s like a vicious cycle, a burning ember waiting for our guard to go down.

For our shield to lower so it can burst us into flames.

And just like everyday, the orbit continues.

The sun goes down and the moon returns.

Teardrops sparkle under the moonlight.

34

The Goat Breah Steffen Running through the thickest grass, Falling jumping day won’t last.

Up upon the solid ground, The hooves my feet make a really loud sound.

Up the hill down the slope, Why would there be a reason to mope?

Farmer comes no need to weep, Everyone just go to sleep.

The next morning brings lots of snow, I don’t know where to go!

Chilly wind make me shiver, I don’t want my ears to wither.

Where’s my mother, I want to weep,.

But my confidence I keep.

Up upon the last snow mound, My hooves don’t event make a sound.

One the last hill I climb to see, My herd is coming finally.

I snuggle my mother close and tight, Now I’ll sleep snug tonight.

35

The Eyes of a Child Emmalee Undereiner Look upon the eyes of a child See the world through their eyes They view the world as a place to explore and be themselves Look at their imagination and see their perspective of our world The imagination hasn’t been tainted by realism The realism is instilled by the elders we revere But their ideas are dated and don’t fit today’s standards We inject the rules of old men into our creative children Their creativity is removed and replaced with drab thoughts of life Yet we want them to progress and use their imagination to pave their way Are we confusing youth of what we want of them Is failure their only option We must become more adept at understanding our children’s frustrations and ideas Allow them a chance to be young

36

Untitled Kate Wegner Creativity is a hummingbird buzzing around your head like a bright jewel.

It is the stars on a moonless night so many that you cannot count them all.

Creativity is the clouds all dancers on the breeze blocking the sun and bringing the sky to life.

It is the entire ocean endless and seeming still until you look closer.

Creativity is in the forest sounds the city lights the flower’s bloom the rural hills.

Creativity is in the poet’s rhythm the writer’s words the artist’s colors the singer’s tune.

It is the heartbeat in our chest the song in our souls.

Creativity rests in the bones of all should they take the time to see.

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Founded in 2008, the Nebraska Writers Collective (NWC), an Omaha-based 501(c)3 nonprofit, unleashes the power of writing at schools, corrections facilities, businesses, and other organizations throughout the Midwest by supporting writers at all stages of their journey. The NWC fosters self-empowerment and community building through creative writing, performance poetry, and interactive workshop-based programming.

Additionally, the NWC employs more than 50 local writers and poets each year, helping to sustain and retain their talents right here in Nebraska.

For this project, the Nebraska Writers Collective helped identify themes, created writing prompts, and participated in music workshops. NWC teaching artists designed and co-led poetry workshops with Holland Community Opera Fellows for over one hundred middle and high school students.

Visit newriters.org for more information.

Founded in 1988, The American Opera Project (AOP) has been at the forefront of contemporary opera for over 30 years. The Brooklyn-based producing organization commissions, develops and produces music-theatre projects, trains emerging composers and librettists, and creates personal connections within its community. Its works have received critical acclaim at opera companies and venues around the world, establishing a new musical canon that recognizes the operatic story in every life.

Poetry & Music Project composers Frances Pollock and Matt Browne are alumni of AOP’s Composers & the Voice program.

Visit aopopera.org for more information.

Opera Omaha, the only professional opera company in Nebraska, began in 1958 as the Omaha Civic Opera Society, a volunteer association, and with tremendous community support became fully professional by 1970. Opera Omaha produces a season of original mainstage productions, presented at the historic Orpheum Theater, and smaller productions and musical events throughout the community. Opera Omaha is internationally known for its productions of eight world premieres and four American premieres of classical masterpieces and is highly regarded regionally for extensive community engagement and education programs. Opera Omaha also produces ONE Festival, an innovative spring festival, and facilitates a groundbreaking civic practice initiative, the Holland Community Opera Fellowship — work that is key to Opera Omaha’s ongoing transformation from a performing arts organization to a cultural resource for the community.

Visit operaomaha.org for more information.

Opera Omaha’s Poetry & Music Project is produced in partnership with

Supported in part by