Purvi Shah, 2022 Writer’s Digest Poetry Awards Winner
Picking the winner of the Writer’s Digest Poetry Awards is always a delight, and this year was no exception. There were more than 800 entries in 2022 covering a range of forms, subjects, issues, and themes—and a full spectrum of emotions. In the end, I selected Purvi Shah’s “Helix of the gift, lineage song” for the First Place Prize of $1,000, publication in WD, and a 20-minute consultation with yours truly.
What spoke to me in the poem was the sense of connection and distance that many of us have felt since 2020—but also pairing that with the connection and distance of family migration, whether it’s migration from one country and culture to another or even from one city to another. Then, add to that the sense of connection and distance between generations who love each other but see the world in different ways. For me, this poem does so much.
Here’s a quick Q&A with poet Purvi Shah:
What inspired this poem?
In March 2014, I was in a generative Cave Canem Writing Across Cultures workshop led by the inimitable Eduardo C. Corral with a number of beloved writers, including Saretta Morgan, Paul Hlava Ceballos, Miguel Ángel Ángeles, Aziza Barnes, Mahogany L. Browne, Amanda Calderon, Sarah Key, Benjamin Krusling, Ansley Moon, Timothy Ree, and Jenny Xie. “Helix of the gift, lineage song” emerged nearly 10 years ago from my actual experience FaceTiming with my father and Ba.
Almost every year from 2004–2020, my parents—especially my mom—would go to India for 2–4 months at a time to take care of my maternal grandparents. In our early years in the States, we didn’t have this technology to stay in regular—and visual—touch. Phone calls were expensive, difficult to make, unreliable. “Helix of the gift, lineage song” is my praise song for connection—and that lingering of resonance even when there is so much absence.
Did you have to revise the poem before submitting?
[It] came out of me like a waterfall—in its present form and with much of the language that it bears today. Writing’s not always so easy. Even yet, in the nearly 10 years since I wrote this poem and its publication, I chiseled the poem and made small but invigorating shifts: “Phrases of migration” became “silts of migration”; “syllable” became “groove”; “mineraled” became “spun”; “stations” became “continents”; “unlettered” became “original”; and, I added the spacing in “home but you have.”
As a poet, I’m always asking: Can this phrase be more clear, more potent, more evocative? Does the form reflect the sense of aliveness, spaciousness, movement, emotion I aspire to convey? Poetry is writing at an atomic and anatomic level—and I love that I can see how this poem shifted over the years in minute and magnificent ways.
If you could pass on one piece of advice to other poets, what would it be?
Write in community and for community. I find writing challenging—and I love it most when I’m collaborating with others and creating and sharing in community. I feel grounded when I know my work will be read by my family, friends, and beloveds. I am enlivened when I know other women of color, immigrant folks, activists for equity, and changemakers engage my work and feel resonance.
Writing can be solo but it does not have to be lonely. Especially for writers of color, engage with community literary organizations, collaborate, and support other writers and artists you cherish. Especially because the publication process can be so grueling, you can be a lifeline for someone—and they can be a lifeline for you.
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The 2022 WD Poetry Award Winners
“Helix of the gift, lineage song” by Purvi Shah “Letter to Myself to be Secreted Away Until” by Suellen Wedmore“Palimpsest in Purple & Sun” by Ilari Pass“I Married in the Year of Assassinations” by Judith Chibante“Our Scars & Souvenirs” by Taylor Feuss“I Said I Wouldn’t Talk About God (A Haunted Sestina)” by .chisaraokwu.“september session” by Nicole Adabunu“an eggshell” by Lorraine Niboro“Morning- Feb 24, 2022 A Bop* for Ukraine” by Robin Holland“If I grieve at all” by Maryn Boess