Edmonton's Poet Laureate

Edmonton's Fifth Poet Laureate: Mary Pinkoski

Mary Pinkoski - Poet LaureateMary Pinkoski is a dynamic spoken word performer who has traveled throughout North America to represent Edmonton’s poetry scene. She has been active in Edmonton’s poetry community for nine years as a poet and a storyteller and is the founder of YOURS: Edmonton Youth Open Mic Series.

Mary is a Member at Large on the Spoken Word Canada board and works closely with the Edmonton Poetry Festival. In 2013, Mary placed third at the Canadian Individual Poetry Slam, making her the top ranked female in the competition. In 2011, she was voted Most Valuable Poet at the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word, where she was also Captain of the Edmonton Poetry Slam Team, who won the National Championship that year. She was the winner of the 2008 National CBC Poetry Faceoff.

Mary is also active in the community as a teacher and mentor, leading numerous workshops on spoken word poetry, including classroom presentations and writing workshops with both youth and adults. She draws inspiration from these experiences, as well as Edmonton’s past and present, in many of her works, and has collaborated with other poets and creatives on numerous projects in Edmonton and beyond. Her most current published chapbook is love is a tree you planted.

Mary Pinkoski will serve a two-year term as Edmonton’s Poet Laureate, from July 1, 2013 to June 30, 2015.


Role of the Poet Laureate

Historically, a Poet Laureate served as the official chronicler of state events and occasions. In ancient times, the Laureate was the central means for recording and communicating history. "Laureate" comes from the Latin word ‘laureatus', meaning adorned with a crown of laurel, an honour also bestowed on the earliest Olympic athletes.

More currently, the role of a Poet Laureate is to reflect the life of a city through readings of poetry. As an ambassador for the literary arts, the Laureate incorporates poetry into a range of official and informal city activities.

Edmonton's Poet Laureate program is supported jointly by The City of Edmonton, the Edmonton Public Library and the Edmonton Arts Council. The creation of this position confirms the city's support for the arts in general, and for the literary arts in particular.

Edmonton's Poet Laureate Terms

Edmonton's Poet Laureate is expected to:

  • Serve as Poet Laureate for two years.
  • Assume the role of literary ambassador for the City of Edmonton both within and outside of the City.
  • Produce at least three original works each year.
  • Appear and present works of significance to the citizens of Edmonton:
    • at least once a year in front of City Council
    • at least once a year at a City-sponsored fundraising or charity event
    • at a minimum of two City of Edmonton official functions each year
  • Undertake to begin and contribute to an historical archive of events and poetry presented at same.

In addition, the Edmonton Poet Laureate will be allowed/encouraged to present or perform works of other poets, if content and/or subject is relevant to the event and the citizens of Edmonton.


Poet Laureate Events & Appearances

As the ambassador of literary arts for the City of Edmonton, the Poet Laureate incorporates poetry into a range of official and informal city activities. 


Do you have a project or event that you would like to invite the Poet Laureate to?

Edmonton's Poet Laureate creates and presents 3 official poems a year, and is engaged in a number of outreach projects.

The Poet Laureate is also available to perform at special events, schools, and other occasions, as well as lead workshops. Please note that for activities outside of the Poet Laureate's official role, an artist fee may apply.

You can contact Mary directly at mary.pinkoski@gmail.com to discuss her rates and availability.

Poet Laureate in the News

Mary Pinkoski Named Edmonton’s Fifth Poet Laureate

Canada’s top female slam poet brings unique voice to role On July 1, 2013, Mary Pinkoski will become Edmonton’s newest Poet Laureate. Pinkoski is a dynamic spoken word performer who has traveled throughout North America to represent Edmonton’s poetry scene, where she has been active as a poet for nearly a decade.

“I am extremely honoured to have been selected as Edmonton's fifth Poet Laureate and to carry on the great tradition of laureates that have served the City of Edmonton,” said Mary Pinkoski. “I am grateful for the possibilities of serving as Edmonton's Poet Laureate for the next two years and look forward to making poetry come alive across the city.”

Pinkoski has won numerous competitions and accolades as a poet. She placed third at the 2013 Canadian Individual Poetry slam, making her the current top ranked female slam poet in the country. In 2011, she was voted Most Valuable Poet at the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word, where she was also Captain of the Edmonton Poetry Slam Team that won the national championship that year.

“We are thrilled to welcome Mary as Edmonton's fifth Poet Laureate. As an accomplished slam poet, performer, collaborator, teacher and mentor, Mary has many skills to bring to this role, and an obvious passion for the past and present of our city,” said Mayor Stephen Mandel. “I look forward to seeing Mary in the community as our literary arts ambassador and to hearing Edmonton's story told through her unique and dynamic style of poetry.”

Locally, Pinkoski sits on the board of the Edmonton Poetry Festival. She is the founder of YOURS: Edmonton Youth Open Mic Series. Pinkoski is also active in the community as a teacher and mentor, leading numerous workshops on spoken word poetry with both youth and adults.

“We are excited to work with Edmonton’s newest Poet Laureate,” said Pilar Martinez, Deputy CEO of the Edmonton Public Library. “EPL’s goal is to Spread the Words and Mary’s commitment to storytelling and sharing the power of words throughout our community fits perfectly with that goal. We look forward to a great partnership.”

Pinkoski will serve a two-year term as Edmonton’s Poet Laureate. Anna Marie Sewell’s term as Poet Laureate ends on June 30, 2013.

The role of Edmonton’s Poet Laureate is to reflect the life of the city through readings and poetry. As an ambassador for the literary arts, the Laureate brings poetry into a range of official and informal city events.

Edmonton’s Poet Laureate program is supported by The City of Edmonton, the Edmonton Arts Council and the Edmonton Public Library.



Call for nominations: Edmonton poet laureate

April 30, 2013

The City of Edmonton, Edmonton Public Library and the Edmonton Arts Council are seeking nominations for Edmonton's fifth Poet Laureate. Edmonton's Poet Laureate reflects the life of the city through readings of poetry, and serves as an ambassador for the literary arts by incorporating poetry into a range of official and informal city activities.  The Poet Laureate will serve a two-year term from July 1, 2013 to June 30, 2015.

Edmonton Arts Council Media Release

Call for Nominations

Interview with Anna Marie Sewell - Alberta Prime Time

Alberta's Poet Laureates
Original Air Date: Tuesday, March 27, 2012


Edmonton has been doing it for seven years, and now Calgary has decided to get on the bandwagon. In this Around Alberta, how poetry is now making a major statement in our province.

Anna Marie Sewell - Interview on CBC Radio's Daybreak Alberta

She's been Edmonton's Poet Laureate since June of 2011 and the duties have taken her to some surprising parts of her city. For over 20 years, Anna Marie Sewell has been an author, songwriter and playwright and in her role as Poet Laureate she has been seeking the poetic voice of the capital. She dropped by the Daybreak studio to talk about her recent work and to also offer some advice to the City of Calgary as they get set to announce their first Poet Laureate.

Listen to the interview here!

Anna Marie Sewell named as Edmonton’s Poet Laureate

“A wonderful laureate, eager to share the power of words”

Anna Marie Sewell can add Poet Laureate to her impressive list of artistic accomplishments. The writer of poetry, theatre, stories and songs becomes the City of Edmonton’s fourth Poet Laureate on July 1, 2011.

“I am honored to be chosen as the City of Edmonton’s Poet Laureate,” said Sewell. “Edmonton is a tremendous city. It will be a joy to write and share poetry about Edmonton in this official role.” 

Sewell has been active on Edmonton’s poetry scene for 20 years. She is a founding member of the Stroll of Poets Society which promotes poetry in Edmonton through performances and festivals. She is one of Edmonton’s Raving Poets and has a recurring gig as the “Bike-nik Poet” at Edmonton’sBikeology festival.

Sewell’s 2009 book of poetry Fifth World Drum won critical acclaim. Sewell is the founder of Edmonton’s Big Sky Theatre.

“We are pleased to welcome Anna Marie as our next Poet Laureate," said Mayor Stephen Mandel. "She brings to the role a profound ability to blend wisdom and playfulness into poetry that is both beautiful and accessible. Her work is varied and rich, with strong roots in our community. I know Anna Marie will be a great ambassador from Edmonton to the world."

 “Anna Marie will be a wonderful laureate, eager to share the power of words,” said Pamela Anthony, Director of the Winter Light Festival, in nominating Sewell. “She wields unusual skill in casting the spell of language, sending the reader to explore new places. She will reflect Edmonton’s character in a beautiful and meaningful way.”

Born in Fredericton, NB, Sewell is of Mi’gmaq/Anishnabe/Polish heritage. She has lived in Edmonton since 1985, moving here from Alberta’s Peace Country.

"The Library and Anna Marie have worked closely together in the past,” said Pilar Martinez, Executive Director of Public Services, Edmonton Public Library. “We are excited by the opportunity to continue our collaborative relationship.”

Edmonton’s Poet Laureate program is supported by The City of Edmonton, the Edmonton Arts Council and the Edmonton Public Library.

Sewell will serve a two-year term as Edmonton’s Poet Laureate. Roland Pemberton’s term as Poet Laureate ends on June 30, 2011.

Mary Pinkoski
This poem was written specifically to help launch Edmonton’s Found Festival on June 26 – 29, 2014. It references the events that happened during the festival.
Mary Pinkoski
This poem was written for the Edmonton Destination Hotels Marketing Group and performed to a group of industry specialists on June 23, 2014.
Mary Pinkoski
This poem was written on the spot during three nights of the City of Edmonton’s What the Bike forum on June 17-19, 2014.  A version of the poem, comprised from discussion at the forum, was read at the end of each night. This is the final version.
Mary Pinkoski
This poem was written for the Bridgesong’s Dear Edmonton event on June 14, 2014.
Mary Pinkoski
This poem was written for a public art project arranged by the City of Edmonton and will be chalked onto a street in downtown Edmonton.
Mary Pinkoski
This poem was written in commemoration of 100 years of service of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. It was played at their ceremony on May 23, 2014.
Mary Pinkoski
This poem was written and performed in Council Chambers on April 29, for the Mayor's Poetry City Challenge. A challenge issued by the Mayor of Regina, in partnership with the League of Canadian Poets, to create an awareness of poetry across Canada during National Poetry Month.
Mary Pinkoski
This poem was performed by myself at the 2014 Mayor's Celebration of the Arts.
Mary Pinkoski
Written for the City and Memory Symposium, hosted by the Edmonton Heritage Council. I performed the poem on November 2, 2013.
Mary Pinkoski
Was my first official at City Hall. I wrote and performed the poem on December 11, 2013.
Alice Major and Mary Pinkoski
This poem was co-written by Edmonton's first Poet Laureate, Alice Major, and myself for a Protocol Item presented in City Council to celebrate the mayoral tenure of Mayor Stephen Mandel. I performed the poem in council on September 18, 2013.
Mary Pinkoski
2013 Edmonton Poet Laureate Appointment Ceremony – June 26, 2013
Mary Pinkoski
This poem was written for Make Something Edmonton's Brand Camp (July 6, 2013). The poem was created on-the-spot throughout the day from the discussions in the room and read at the end of the day.

A Toast to Edmonton’s Found Festival 
This poem is a toast
A toast to the ones who turn stomping ground
into common ground 
the ones who scatter seeds of art, 
music, words, theatre, dance
to watch them take root and come to life
in the cracks of pavement
and splinters of light in shadows
in the unlikely and the unpretentious
in the spaces where we live and breath
this is a toast to the ones who bring art alive
to the back alley schemers 
and the community hall dreamers
and the summer camp screamers
the swimming pool shakers
and the citizen’s wallpapers
and the high school takers
to taking and take overs
to making and remaking 
this poem is a toast
to the ones with paint balanced on the edge of their fingers
and words swishing in their blood
Edmonton, You Hardy Marigold
On April 29, 1964 the marigold became the official flower of Edmonton
unassuming but golden bright in its presence, diverse in its species
the city council was no stranger to the flower 
which found itself poking up all over the city
lounging on public grasses and lined up in private gardens,
in the memories of those whose grandparents had carried the its seeds
in boats across oceans and in trains across the prairies, 
it represented a home both here and far
When choosing the marigold the city council at the time felt it was the perfect flower,
felt it represented the city’s unspoken partnership with sun,
it shines here all the time: summer, winter, it doesn’t matter
it makes the waters of the North Saskatchewan River glisten
like a thousand specks of gold rushing down it
But if we go back to the beginning,
before marigolds and gold rushes
you found yourself a settling place in the bend of the river
Beaver Hills House to the Cree
you were the nook that took strangers in
let them plant their roots along your river banks
you accepted anyone and everyone
you still do
it is what makes you authentic and original, 
a grounded unpretentiousness lies in your roots
there is no hierarchy here 
in the largest northernmost metropolis
business sits at the same table as arts
your dream is just as valid as mine
we are city of urban barn-builders
a big city that has not lost its pioneer sense of small town
a community connected to our roots 
but reaching sky scraper tall into progress
we grow beautiful things here,
so it is no wonder we have 
parkland that stretches like a yawning giant 
through a riverside valley 
it runs ribbon green through our city
offering itself like a present to us,
breathing life into the heart of this city
you have become the place where anyone
with a hope, a wish or a prayer
can put up a tent
and begin to build something
a home,
a celebration,
a festival
You are a festival city
a city that has not forgotten how to dance
how to sing
how to perform
how to bring its vibrant joy to everyone
and it is your vibrant joy,
it is no one else’s,
there is no other place that knows how
to move with your rhythm Edmonton,
it is yours and it is distinct
you are a year-round farmers market
kettle corn crunching in your mouth
stalls stacked with vegetables your baba remembers
tortierre your Nana has not tasted since her childhood in Montreal
You are the glory days of Stanley Cups and Grey Cups
the yee-haw of the Canadian Finals Rodeo
Edmonton you are bustling and you are bursting
Your heart is a square in the centre of your downtown
and you let yourself colour outside of its lines
every day
find yourself dipping your toes in a city hall fountain
watching fanfare of colours in a Pride parade
sitting for the splash of silly in a street performer
meandering through the tastes of your home in rows of food vendors 
you let your heart grow wild
but you also save some room for your old favorites
leave a space for old traditions like symphonies and citadels
and art galleries and libraries,
laugh as Rapid Fire Theatre improvs its way into your heart
you are familiar but also unexpected
unique in your ordinary
an adventure 
in a city that has never outgrown its own sense of who it is
a city that is still making something of itself
The thing about the marigold is that,
while it is a common species,
not known for being flashy or pretentious,
it is known for its hardiness,
its ability to adapt,
to be able to set itself down and grow roots in almost any type of soil
under almost any condition
and bloom
Edmonton, you hardy marigold,
you golden gateway growing roots
from grassroots
you are authentic,
you are original,
and you are rugged
You are something to experience
Our Movement is a Dance
Since the beginning, 
we have been moving through this city
Originally we used rivers for roadways,
found ourselves a major artery 
in the rush of the North Saskatchewan River
and we moved
on water and on foot
through forest, 
which turned to dirt path
which turned to gravel
to pavement
it was a time when the first cars shared roads with wagons 
and bicycles found themselves at the core of community
While the Edmonton Journal was busy sponsoring bike races in Edwardian Edmonton,
locals were celebrating the two-wheeled miracle with their own races 
at picnics and on holidays
and the High Level Bridge was being built
above the rush of our original river road
an engineering marvel the bridge was designed
specifically for two wagons with full loads to pass 
without hitting each other 
It is obvious that from the beginning, 
that even in its efforts to avoid jostling wagons,
Edmonton became a place that held community 
at the forefront of its transportation plans
and we grew as a city 
And we continue to grow
Today the river finds itself a lazy transportation corridor
sleepily stretching itself out beside our yawning  giant of a river valley
While the High Level Bridge carries vehicles
and pedestrians and over 2000 bicycles per day 
in and out of the downtown core
Today we move faster 
with a direct kinetic energy
to work, to play
to celebrate 
Today our roads have become our main arteries
moving us in and out of the hearts of our communities
we have recognized their importance in naming them:
Wayne Gretzky, Anthony Henday, Emily Murphy
they carry the lifeblood of the city, its people,
to their destinations
But roads are not the only routes
not the only places where people choose to move
there are arteries of pavement for cyclists and pedestrians
paths that are just as necessary
that also deserve to be named after our heroes
These concrete arteries and veins are a reflection 
of the vibrancy of the growth of this city
It is no secret that our pavement has become an ever-shifting dance floor
holding the foxtrot of pedestrians
next to the circling waltz of a cyclist
in parallel with the quick spin of a vehicle,
bouncing around the leap frog  stutter step of a bus,
passing the line dance of the LRT
there is a lot of shimmy and shake happening here
but there is something beautiful about this dance
an aesthetic that lives in energy
we are the electron in the moment before the spark
Today our roadways are a negotiation
a slow recognition of how we have chosen to move
with each other 
we are, finally, at the moment where the 
vehicle asks the bicycle asks the pedestrian
to dance
We are almost there
almost ready to give each other the right of way
to learn from each other in respect
You can tell a very different story of this city
from learning its streets through your feet
through the pump of your bicycle
through the window of your vehicle
It is not a question of how we have come to dance 
we have a movement to this city, we have learned
to rush with its river, 
It is obvious that we are moving through this city
with our hearts
laying them out on the pavement
marking where we have been
Whether we are on bicycles,
on foot or in vehicles
We are passionately moving
through this city
Rather it is a question of how we take the lessons of the river’s flow
It’s ability to bend around obstacles
to cradle its passengers in its movement
glide them over its bumps
and bring that to our communities
Our movement is a dance card request 
an invitation
a letter to this city
asking for safety for all modes of transportation
the personal cost of insurance to move with awareness
and responsibility through this city
asking for a space for sustainable movement
a place where bike routes are accessible to all demographics
where they slope and stretch but do not steep too often
where our bodies do not freefall into a pothole
or skid across stray gravel 
where bicycles are not portaged like canoes
due to snow or ice or cracking pavement
where there is room for everyone 
where cars can park 
and trees can grow
and bicycles can move with the trueness of an arrow
where the curb becomes another way for a vehicle 
to tell a cyclist or a pedestrian I love you
but I respect that you need space
where gridlock learns to expand its lungs and
breathe into a pollution-free zone
where we can get from one place to another clearly and directly
where a bike path begins to hold hands
with a bus route in an unbreakable agreement
our movement is a letter to this city, 
we are writing a living transportation ecosystem
into being
If we imagine the city to be a bicycle wheel
the inner tube of the Anthony Henday surrounding us
the veins of this city as the spokes of the wheel
As we travel ourselves down through the spokes 
into the core of our city
it is obvious that we are connected
and that we are connecting 
we are sharing space and a dream of a dance 
where veins run parallel with major arteries
so there is room for everyone to move
It is obvious that we are moving forward 
creating new possibilities of movement
We are writing an invitation to a dance,
sending it out to everyone in this city
saying, “welcome”
“you’re finally here,
stay awhile,
come dance with us
show us your best moves
we’ve been saving this space for you
let’s grow it together”
Dear Edmonton,
I have been writing you love poems for the past year
sinking my fingers into your riverbanks and 
trying to pull from them the stories of the ones who were here before me
I have tried to catch your shimmer and sway 
in the late afternoon hours dancing off the river of your veins
I have searched for meaning in the cracks of your concrete
let myself fall into the oasis of your blacktop on scorching summer afternoon
and stumble off kilter, let your icy winter splinter my world into new perspective
I have let myself stretch into the pavement of horseshoe boundary
watched as you continue to squeeze yourself into this Henday hug
I have gained poems in the passions of people
and simultaneous lost whole poems to holes of your roads
I have marvelling at your blankets of fields and your stretch of lights 
from 30,000 feet in the air
I have played with the gravity of your pull 
flown out of and back into you, 
let you be my gateway
my welcoming
recognized that you are welcoming for thousands of new people each year
a place where people can come and flourish
you are a city of vibrant people
calling you home 
I think this is what makes you special
From the beginning, people have come to you in droves 
built houses and businesses,
set up tents when there were no houses available
and learned to make something of nothing
you have become a city of so many beautiful somethings
a series of surprises 
an odd dance of wonder and celebration
the extraordinary in the ordinary
you are
the piano on the street corner and
the largest concert organ in North America
the first community league in Canada and
the world renown medical research centre
you are
the boutique shops of High Street and Whyte Ave
and the West Edmonton Mall
the coyote on the golf course and
the magpie in your back alley
you are dirt city and refineries
graffiti on the bricks
poems on a sidewalk
and national renown musicians
authors, actors, and artists
you are the tangle of frozen maple syrup on a stick
and the bannock of a bison burger
a farmer’s market that refuses to shut down
with the growing season
you are a concrete bed sheet spreading itself out
and the fight for an urban farm to keep growing
you are bike path verses a road
a city that is an example of waste management 
you are toes in the city hall fountain
and the purple city at the legislature
you are bridge that is being lit up one bulb at a time
you are shining
you are diversity
you are integrity
you are history
you are progress
I know this sounds like another love poem
another chance for me to tell you where you sit in my heart
But is also the opportunity for me to tell you
Dear Edmonton,
I know you are busy with the business of progress
of making something of yourself
I hope you remember in building bridges
you must also build bridges with the past
honour the handshakes that formed you
and the history that held you 
Know that in arenas and airports
we can grow but we must do it sustainably
revitalize with a sense of respect 
create with a sense of community
Dear Edmonton,
you are journey
an experience
a city to be lived
you are a love poem
that keeps turning itself into a light
that lands in all of us
this is for the sleepy commuters
the rush of  business people
and the dedicated students
the gym-goers who kept their new years resolution
the almost late-for-work barista
and the early to rise baker
the steady strolling pedestrian
and pavement parker
anyone pausing long enough to look around 
to feel the earth pass under the soles of their shoes
to let their feet memorize the map of this city
you are standing on ancient ground
there is rhythm here
so dance
shimmy yourself like spray paint 
splashing out of a graffiti bottle
and shake
become the freedom of a paint splatter
make your mark
believe that you are the vibrancy we need
let yourself be moved by the heartbeat of this city
you are standing in its core
you are its core
so move 
with your own internal beat
conduct this city into something beautiful
and never doubt that your dance 
is what keeps Edmonton moving
For the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry
   A poem in commemoration of 100 years of service
There are very few things that tie together the trenches of Passchendaele, 1917
to the mud of North-West Europe, 1945 to the rice paddies of Korea, 1951
very few things that tie together the hills of Cypress, to the concrete of the Balkans, 
to the sands of Afghanistan
And yet, if you were to look close enough at the earth in each of those places
find on its surface the tough treads of the soles of a combat boot
you would see in those treads a history of dedication and commitment
a history that bravely bridges together continents in the name of peace
you would find the battle march of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry
Established 100 years ago at the outbreak of World War I by a captain with a dream and some money,
Brigadier Andrew Hamilton Gault raised the Patricias out of love of his country and the Commonwealth
sent them over rough waters, only to have them set foot on the shore and
adopt the motto of "first in the field"
the Patricias have been there ever since 
Named after the daughter of a Governor General, 
who was known as high spirited, warm and fan of sports,
perhaps it was an obvious choice to name a battalion after someone so vivacious
But I think there is more to the story, for all her energy, 
Princess Victoria Patricia had another side
she was also a woman who loved watercolor painting
and when she sat down to design the regiment's badge and colours
I like to image that she knew what an extraordinary regiment her namesake would be
I picture her, the first Colonel-in-Chief of the Princess Patricias,
drawing the crimson badge with the passion that the deep red colour affords, 
choosing a cool blue for the collected wits of those entering into battle,
adding the gold as a declaration of excellence
I imagine there was something regal about that day she sat down 
and sketched the insignia into being
it is no coincidence how this has translated throughout time
embedded itself into actions of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry, 
into the history of the regiment
display itself for all to see in the sway of the raised Ric-A-Dam-Doo 
History tells us that after World War I,
their Colonel-in-Chief, who had followed her regiment throughout the war, with great dedication
cutting out and scrapbooking articles with the precision of a military strategist
presented them with a laurel wreath in 1919
History also tells us that since ancient times,
the laurel wreath is a symbol given to victors
in celebration of their honour after a battle
it is a symbol that transcends time
each honor woven together in the branches of history
entwined into each other, connected
The Princess Patricias have a motto that reads:
 "once a Patricia, always a Patricia"
like a family that has not forgotten its ancestry
a military tree whose roots have grown out of decorated names like: 
Lieutenant Hugh Mckenzie, Victoria Cross
Sergeant Robert Spall, Victoria Cross
Sergeant George Harry Mullin, Victoria Cross
the Patricias have stood side-by-side with soldiers both past and present
In the last 100 years the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry
has fought for the victory of peace in the midst of battle
and yes, there have been times when their crimson has bled itself off the flag
found itself fallen, half-mast,
lying in a foreign field, 
seeping into the banks beside an unknown river,
stained on the concrete of a street most Canadians have never walked down
these are the times when the branches of the laurel wreath pull tighter
when they weave into themselves, 
hold each other with the strength of compassion
It is no mistake that the laurel wreath surrounds the crimson on the Regimental Colour
there is a silent honor in placing the arms of victory around the heart of bravery
Lest we forget,
On August 3, 1914 before Flander's Fields had yet had the chance to grow into our collective memory
the Princess Patricias came into being as the last privately funded military battalion
In 1951 they received the unique United States Presidential Citation for their efforts in Korea 
In 2003, they had the same flag that flew in Kandahar flown into space as an honor to those who had become stardust in a street of Afghanistan sand
today, under Colonel-in-Chief Adrienne Clarkson, they are the first regiment to invite a person to that position who is not a member of the Canadian Royal Family
Lest we forget,
named after a high-spirited Princess with a deep love for Canada,
from their inception to today, the Patricias have led the way
into battle and beyond
They stand on guard for strength and freedom
they are valour's deep red urgency and peace's golden sunset
they have traversed seas to bring security and safety
to people they have never met
they are 100 years of building this glorious bridge that connects
the trenches of Passchendaele with the mud of North-West Europe and the rice paddies of Korea
that connects the hills of Cypress to the concrete of the Balkans and the sands of Afghanistan
a bridge that sways crimson red and blue
to the golden freedom of the wind
moving through the proud Ric-a-Dam-Doo
Genius Loci
There is a theory named genius loci
it is used by urban planners and architects
to describe the distinctive atmosphere of a place,
the spirit of a place
There is a story my mom loves to tell 
of a spring afternoon in Edmonton
when she was caught skipping high school
My mom doesn't tell this story often 
probably because it is anomaly -
she wasn't that kind of student -
but when she does tell the story, 
she tells every detail
How it was the very early 70s
how the idea of skipping class in favor of reading a book came to quick her
how she rode the J6 downtown
how the CKUA call letters stretched big in the after lunch sun
how she found herself stepping through the door of Hurtig Books,
she always pauses at this part to remind me that Mel Hurtig's bookstore was the first one
to offer both books and tea 
then how she found herself caught like snapshot in a picture frame
through the glass windows of the bookstore by her father and mother
also out for a skipped afternoon
she tells me how it was hard for my U of A English professor granddad
and Art Gallery volunteer Nana to find fault her in actions
she was after all reading books and drinking tea
Edmonton found my mom through its offering of words
through its potential to dream it exotic, 
dream it off the dusty, familiar of a shelf
imagine it a prairie Montreal
when in reality Edmonton was still a sometimes skipping school teenager
a bit daring, a bit sleepy, a lot beautiful potential
it had not yet stretched its yawning arms much past the Jewish Community Centre
at the end of my mom's 156st
it was no major metropolis 
but my mom convinces me it already knew its voice 
in barefoot concerts in the parks
and independent bookstores
in art galleries and plays at the citadel
in Elvis Presley movies at the Paramount
in the collective prayers offered up for the Eskimos and Oilers
Edmonton was finding itself
By the time Edmonton came to me
the city had long stretched its arms out in the concrete prairie
and the prayers for the Eskimos and the Oilers were on the way to finally being answered
I found Edmonton in a circling downtown parkade,
where I'd imagine our car was a marble spinning down and down
into an underground that was filled with whiz of trains that did not need the air to move
I imagined the LRT trains to be the fishes of the transportation world
as we spun further into an earth that was said to be whispering the secrets of abandon coal mines 
For a kid from Fort Saskatchewan, 
Edmonton came to me mysterious, glistening and magical 
It was where you went for art lessons in a real true art gallery
where professional actors stood on stages for plays you got treated to once a year
where Saturdays started with visits to Woodwards 
and ended with tea and sandwiches in the Holt Renfrew
where you went on the weekend so you could go back to school on Monday and brag to everyone that you had been to Edmonton 
You could see and experience anything in Edmonton
It was as big as New York
and as fancy as Paris
It had the world and the world's largest mall in its palm
Visiting Edmonton was an awesome adventure 
It was skating at Hawrelak Park
swimming lessons at the Kinsmen
basketball games at the University
candy cane lane and dinners at Bullwinkles and Chi Chis
and late night drives home on Fort Road whose darkness whispered to me:
there was something here before you
something existed here before all of you
I know I am lucky to have experienced this
to be able to tell this particular story of Edmonton 
that relies on vibrant paintings and woven words
I am fortunate culture is the foundation of my early Edmonton
I know this valuable thing that not everyone can relate to
They say the art of a place can reveal its genius loci
By the time Edmonton came to me it had found its voice 
had embodied the unstoppable meandering of its river heart
In ancient times, Roman religion said that genius loci
was less like the spirit of a place, and more like a protective spirit
a guardian spirit within a place
I imagine this is something like a river that runs as a vein does 
down the middle of your body
holding your life in its movement
I know there are parts of you that I have not yet found
corners I don't know exist,
places that I have not yet rubbed the soles of my shoes on
shadows I haven't sat in
But what I do know is that if you move through the streets of this city slow enough
you can find cement walls and bricks, roof tops and building bottoms 
holding a stenciled drawing of a bird with the word "listen" beside it
There are stories seeping out of the pores of this river city's body
art rising off the river, rising out the river,
being held in the heart of the river
The river never forgets its mouth,
does not sit above its rushing,
no matter the barriers it is given to moving,
the river will move.
If any object or idea or hand stands in the way of the river's rush,
the river will find a new path, 
it will bend or break itself to be able to move
to speak the rush of its roar to the universe.
Dams burst. Tributaries are unearthed.
The voice of the river does not stop.
I believe that the strength of the river is why we choose to build bridges
with such delicate dedication.
The strength of the river,
the voice of the river
cannot be stopped.
There is an urgency in creation 
but there is also a fragile vulnerability.
It can be said that art reveals the genius loci of a place
It can be said that the river is the genius loci of a place
It can be said that we are creating shrines of art
all over this city
making us something to continually celebrate
The poet Hafiz wrote:
"The words we speak become the house we live in."
If we believe this to be true,
that we are all careful storytellers,
constructing dwelling places out of the energy of our words
then it stands to reason that 
this is not a poem
it is an invitation that begins with a story
that begins with a pendulumed-limbed girl
caring only about winning her next swim race
and her dad, briefcase-man by day,  idea-man by night
slyly deciding that swimming afforded him perfect the opportunity 
to teach pendulum-limbed daughter the physics of momentum
it begins with idea-man dad armed with a desk-top sized Newton's Cradle
explaining that if you woke up one of the 5 steel ball pendulums
swinging the sleepy other side into action
and you did not bother it, left it alone, it would swing forever
and the girl with the pendulum limbs 
attached to her sturdy shoulder frame
is fascinated
she dreams of energy traveling unbridled through the world
fueled by her dreams, her imagination asked questions like:
"if the wall was not in the swimming pool, would I swim forever, until I died?
would my waves go all the way to China?"
the dad does not laugh for he too was fascinated with the peculiarities of the universe
and how the words of one man catapulted the explanation of energy into the world
and from the seriousness of briefcase-man dad's face
the girl realizes that she must be exceptionally careful with her own words
and the energy they held
so she learns to release them, one by one, like pendulums
 from then until now
stretching them out in a poem before you
using them to build a bridge from her to you
For it also begins in knowing that in addition to writing the laws of energy
Newton also wrote, "we build too many walls and not enough bridges"
and so it begins today, right now
with a call to momentum
with a call to the building of a bridge
a bridge strong enough to hold a collection of voices,
for we have all come here saturated with our histories, our ideas
let the bridge be a conversation
let it carry us forward
as a parade of particles marching into a parable
the sparks we generate will be our story
in the spirit of construction,
if I could offer one piece of advice
it would be:
trust in the notion of chaos, the idea that
somewhere a butterfly is flapping its wings
and somewhere else a windstorm is beginning
I like to think if Newton were still alive
he would not have called this the Chaos Theory 
but rather the "the reason for building bridges" theory
based on the idea that what I do today
might have some effect on you tomorrow
and the hope that it does
because I am doing this with grace and good intention
And so it began, with
the story of pendulum-limbed girl focused on winning a swim race
learning instead to build bridges with the energy of her words
and so it begins with
my story, my poems
your stories, your poems
The poet Hafiz wrote:
"The words we speak become the house we live in."
If we believe this to be true,
that we are all careful storytellers,
constructing dwelling places out of the energy of our words
then it stands to reason that 
that Edmonton you have always been a home
called "Beaver Hills House" by the Cree
you have always been a place of settling
we have been growing around your river city heart
building bridges across this city,
it begins with the bridges we have built and 
the bridges we are building
It begins with a call to momentum
and call to energy
It begins with the confidence that we will 
never stop creating 
Invocation (for Edmonton)
I think there is something wonderful about a city that is tied to itself with bridges
Some nights, when Edmonton is mostly sleeping 
except for the excitement of its streetlights,
I drive them and picture these bridges as belts
holding us together
their buckles fastened tight over our river heart
It reminds me that two halves do make a whole –
there is security in the math of that
Maybe I am naive, but I like to rest reassured in
the  knowledge that river banks of Walterdale hold 
the same fossils as the banks of Glenora
that Erminskin will never forget Castledowns
that the Yellowhead does not clash with the Whitemud
You are as busy as the black coffee business of Jasper Ave
your briefcase is a bustle promise of new enterprise
Some dawns, I want to rise with sun across your sky,
scrape the towers and shake up your potential
Some afternoons, I long to drift through the used book comfort of Whyte Ave
reading each building like a chapter
Muddle myself into vibrant painting of Alberta Ave
Hum my reflection into the window of streetcar perched in the sky
 I have sunk my fingers into your river bank dirt,
marveled at the way place can grow roots into your veins,
I have let go and pulled out Babiak stories and Cadence Weapon melodies,
poems with thick with symphonies and citadels,
My body a rapid fire theatre,
a cathedral of history and promises
There is so much to hold when moving forward, 
when making something of ourselves
and yet, I have seen how the future can stretch you across a landscape,
spread you out across the concrete prairie
yes, sometimes pavement cracks,
gets worn in places we didn’t intend it to
like an old couch we moved from living room
to rec room to spare room
Sometimes we sit in places that are all too familiar
and feel the springs poking us in the back
It is nothing, just a sign to moving
to continue to grow
to keep the couch in the home
but plant a seedling in the crack of the pavement
To know that despite the cracks,
we are still a home
populated by love and magpies
We were always a home,
called by the Cree Beaver Hills House
Edmonton, you have always been a place of settling
of sitting down, of resting
A grade six student once told me that 
Edmonton smells like a food court,
sounds like parade,
 looks like a warm blanket, 
tastes like stranger’s smile
and feels like home
It is winter right now and I am dreaming of skating down your frozen streets
layering myself against the elements, 
making snow angels on the grounds Hawrelak Park,
imagining each cloud passing by as summer dream,
I tell myself it will be hot again and there will be Fringes and Heritage Days 
and popsicle sticky sidewalks that don’t let you glide down them
but for now, it is winter and I am inside,
watching through the window as you hold people like a warm blanket
finding the hope in your mission, centres that bring people together like a crop
grown from a single mustard seed
Edmonton, I am settling myself into the smiles of your strangers
finding my voice in their conversation
letting it taste like home
There is community everywhere in this city
I know, if you search “Edmonton” in Wikipedia
the article tells you that there are 375 neighbourhoods in this city
I don’t know the accuracy of this number,
but I like to imagine it true
to believe there are 10 more neighbourhoods in this city than days of the year
we could spend all year, and then some, celebrating them
so let’s do this, Edmonton, you festival city
you 375 voices singing out in a choir
let’s call all the magpies to the telephone wires,
sound the clock bell at City Hall
tighten the belts around your river city heart
let’s come together
We are here,
We are home and
we are alive
The Places We Hold In Ourselves
My mom tells me this story
of a time when city limits stretched
into fields
and buses were coded with letters and numbers
she would the ride the J6 downtown
to watch Elvis Presley movies
and to visit the first bookstore she knew 
to have both books and tea – Mel Hurting’s bookstore
It is the CKUA building on Jasper Avenue that reminds her 
She tells me the story most often after she sees the painted radio call letters 
on the building
I grew up in a time when streets pushed fields
further away - the city was growing
We lived in Fort Saskatchewan and every year
I would watch as the city stretched its arms out 
longer and longer
I lived for our trips to Edmonton
traveling down Fort road
winding our way through the loops of the downtown parkades
to meet my nana for tea
in the basement of the Woodwards
There was magic in landing myself in heart of the city
that I used to imagine was as big as New York,
as fancy as London,
I used to think Whyte Ave must be something like Paris
Edmonton was a mystical creature
A city with a fantastical heartbeat
It was gentle giant that brought me
candy cane lane and skating in Hawrelak Park
swimming lessons at the Kinsmen
art class at the gallery
plays at the Citadel
dinners at Bullwinkles and Chi Chis
and the ever glistening Butterdome
It is impossible not to imbue memories
into a location
every place becomes rich with stories
that create collective memories of our city
the landscape is awash with reminders of our past
and directions to our future
we find ourselves in remembering,
we grow community in the sharing
“what did you feel the first time you saw the folk fest hill lit up with candles?”
“where did you eat when you were young?”
“do you remember the first time you saw the pyramids?”
“where were you when we won our first Stanley Cup?”
“where were you when Wayne Gretzky was traded?”
“do you remember your first visit to West Edmonton Mall?”
“have you ever, on a cold winter’s night, found that street in Highlands where they string the lights across the street it runs down the whole street, did the beauty of it take your breath away?”
We are continually locating ourselves within the events of the city,
placing ourselves within the city’s body,
and living within it, finding its heartbeat, listening to it, telling its story
I like to believe that there are drums in the earth,
I like to think we can all find a patch of soil, 
press your ear to the ground and hear
the pounding of hooves surrounding an early Fort Edmonton
the arrhythmic humming of the railway’s first arrival,
the sway of the street car, the buzz of an airplane,
the jump out of your chest crashing of logs jamming down the North Saskatchewan River
the bustle of business and cars down Jasper Ave
the too long between heartbeats of flood, of a tornado
stand at the edge of the city and run your hands through the wind
and know what it is like to touch the tips of the wheat field that once stood there
make your body an awkward barn dance for all those kids who came from the country to the city
a graceless entering into a cosmopolitan world
sing this city’s song with every moment of joy we have had
our Stanley Cups, our Grey Cups
be held in every moment of perseverance we have endured
and speak the stories of our city
fill the places you inhabit with your memories,
make new memories, honor the ones already in existence
This city is poem,
Its memory made fortunate and tough by our geography
made gentle by the symphony of our people
made open and wide-eyed by its stories
This city is a memory
this city is a future
This poem was co-written by Edmonton's first Poet Laureate, Alice Major, and myself for a Protocol Item presented in City Council to celebrate the mayoral tenure of Mayor Stephen Mandel. I performed the poem in council on September 18, 2013.
Change is
Alice Major and Mary Pinkoski
Scientifically, change is marked as moving 
from one state to another – 
a metamorphosis
wherein each phase is reliant upon the other,
they cannot exist alone.
There can be no end without a beginning
no wing beat of the butterfly without the crawl of the caterpillar.
There is a passion and dedication in transformation,
a dogged determination to make a difference,
to watch a city move from being "good enough"
to "always better";
to witness communities awakening in rebirth;
arts spreading like wildfire and local businesses flourishing;
citizens- young and old – coming together in history and wisdom,
in joy and energy, in learning;
Edmontonians welcoming and embracing each other.
It is the drastic difference between a whisper and cheer,
it is the inhalation of passion from all who connect with the city.
To witness a city converge into a new kind of vibrant, a new living
takes a leader who understands the beauty of change.
A man who operates in compassion and concern.
A man who is undaunted by transforming ideas and visions.
A man who has set this city in home of his heart
and then opened the doors.
Scientifically, change is marked a shifting from one state to another.
Scientifically, change is a metamorphosis.
Realistically, change is dream pulled from the ether.
Realistically, change is a possibility made present.
Realistically, change is potential actualized.
Change is
new words. A poet in the council chamber. 
A dream-word-catcher in City Hall. 
It's debate, declaration, decisions recorded 
in the minute book. 
Change is
about the past, looking into the eyes of history,
about acknowledgement and accords
and signing a document of promise: We didn't get it right.
We'll try again.
Change is slow.
It's those damn potholes and being stuck 
with climate and asphalt. You fix them (one step forward)
then new ones open up (two steps back).
Sometimes change is not
as good as a vacation.
Change can be
big, billions, an infrastructure budget
that gobbles up your spreadsheets.
Change is 
acknowledgement of the underdog, 
a celebration of greatness.
Change is
a basketball hoop on the square,
the orange ball bubbling through the net again and again,
street kids scoring good stuff this time.
Change is 
small as a newborn grandchild – 
to hold like hope, to count fingers and toes.
It's the click of a door closing on the crib,
the click of a door closing on an office, 
another future opening ahead.
2013 Edmonton Poet Laureate Appointment Ceremony – June 26, 2013
Edmonton, you are singing
Mary Pinkoski
your gates to the north open wide
like arms stretching into your gaping river chest
Where you can see the current of our hearts
running right through the body of this city
Our hearts beat they ferociously
They beat with the voices of history 
and the call of the future
They carry the memory
of great ones that have moved through us
carving a space so big we’ve got roadways for veins
Wayne Gretzky  Anthony Henday  Emily Murphy  Alex Taylor
Our hearts, 
they carry the memory that from the beginning
we were the Cree’s Beaver Hills House
you have always been a home
setting yourself down beside
the quickly running North Saskatchewan River
you have  been a journey and a destination
And yet, if you have ever paused on top of Walterdale Hill
to watch the setting sun fold itself into 
this city’s rushing river chest
watch light bounce off a riverbed that houses
the orchestral clicking of dinosaur bones and
the settling spines of bison
A waterway that harbors
the rhythmic histories of river boats and railway alongside 
the often dissonant cries Gold rushes and lumber barons
A river that cradles the sunset reflections
of buildings and temples
of steeples and synagogues
a river holding the passions of prayers
and the hopes of progress
melding the past with the present
Edmonton, lay yourself down with the sun
set yourself out along the river,
like an early birchbark canoe,
put your ear to the bank,
dip your hand into the water
let move through you
and tell me,
can you hear the jazz blues folk in lumber
dancing down the river like an old time waltz escaping into the night air,
in the 5pm yellow glint off the water can you see
the historic hope of immigrants written in the golden top of the Chinatown gate
in the dispersing purple sunset do you see
the dedicated threads of a mother’s sari swishing around her family in Millwoods,
do the eddies of this river twist you into a skater twirling in Hawrelak Park,
have you let the wind blowing drift into your ears
like an early settler’s bagpipe aria
have you heard it enclosing its bilingual melody 
around Bonnie Doon singing the songs
of Marie-Anne Gaboury
chanting the prayers of St. Jean
does the river’s bubbling take you to a soccer game in little Italy,
it’s bustling effort bring you to a farmers market
that holds the same vegetables a Ukrainian baba planted
in her first garden in the new world
are you mesmerized in its swaying sides, 
north to south, 
river bank to river bank
like the repetitions of hands beating ancient rhythm into drums
I know we are place that is busy with the hopes of growth
We are still young
and sit with nervous anticipation
of what more we can become,
like a child marking his height with ticks on a wall
asking r ”am I taller yet”
am i taller yet? am   i    taller   yet?
We will get there,
I know it.
in this moment
we are making something of ourselves
and we have already made so much
So for now, Edmonton,
let your stretched out river bed arms
to be the welcome they have always been
let your river bank hands continue cradle
the dreams that have built lives on your shores
let your rushing river heart beat the stories
of this land and its people through you
let them rise out of you
like the mist rises off your river’s mouth
and watch them now,
as they fill your sky with constellations that dip and sway
every time a hillside choir under a canopy of candles
brings the heavens down with four strong winds
You will know then that
This city is a symphony under the stars
Listen Edmonton,
can you hear your stories
our stories
can you hear your voices
our voices
drifting off your river
This city
My city
Our city
you are singing
And it is so beautiful
This poem was written for Make Something Edmonton’s Brand Camp (July 6, 2013). The poem was created on-the-spot throughout the day from the discussions in the room and read at the end of the day. 
One City, Many Voices
Mary Pinkoski (2013)
There is a picture at Fort Edmonton Park.
It hangs on the wall of the Alberta Government Telephones building.
In the picture is an early telephone operator,
she is holding – between her fingers – power lines stretching out
from telephone poles as if they were threads
and her work was the loom.
At the bottom of the picture sits a caption
which reads, “weavers of speech.”
I think that is what we have been doing here today – 
weaving stories – 
but I also like to think that this what Edmonton is about:
a diverse collection of stories stretching out 
telephone wire taut across our landscape,
humming with energy.
We are carrying so many threads within the body of our city - 
within our own bodies – 
threads of history, of hope, of love,
of trials, of community, of giving.
Everything we touch becomes our creation,
 and Edmonton our loom.
We are here to weave our stories into 
the vibrant tapestry that blankets the city,
a shifting patchwork of energy that moves
in kaleidoscope fashion with each new event.
Like an old quilt that gets passed down 
from generation to generation,
worked on from generation to generation,
it tells the story of who are and where we have been.
It started before us, but it carries on with us.
Every square its own entity, but also a necessity
to the fabric of the whole.
And yes, it has its pristine patches, but it also
has its pothole tears – we need those.
This quilt wants to lay itself down 
over Edmonton like a bedcover,
let us know we are home.
Still, I know it is tricky to call an ever-changing patchwork whole,
to define its shifting components into a singular entity.
We are always building here,
growing with every new thing that we are making.
If anything, we know that we are only as distinct
as what we choose to create,
and so we choose to create
in all sorts of ways and
for all sorts of reasons.
We find the blueprints of ourselves in those creations.
It is a beautiful privilege to be able to live and work
in a place that lets us – lets anyone, lets everyone –put
their own fingerprints on this city.
It is a fantastical reassurance to know that we see 
our own reflection in the landscape of Edmonton;
in the people we touch, in the structures we build,
in the community we have created,
in the stories we are telling,
in the stories we want to hear.
Our ideas are everywhere.
They sit perched on our city streets like 
tidings of magpies ready to take flight,
ready to join the momentum of this city,
the current of ideas runs right through us
taking its lessons from the river.
I think it is amazing that this city is populated by so many magpies.
And while I would not argue for Edmonton be considered
the Magpie of Canada, I think the bird is such a fortunate metaphor.
The internet tells me that the magpie is one of the only birds to pass
an intelligence test called the mirror test, 
where it recognizes its own reflection.
I know we are more than just the blue-collared scavengers of the bird world,
attracted to shiny things like Grey Cups and Stanley Cups and World’s Biggest Malls.
I know that we sometimes struggle with the fact that we are no peacock,
no Golden Gate Bridge, no CN Tower, no ocean, no rainforest.
But still,
there is something about us that commands attention;
a big city that has never misplaced its community.
That is something special.
If you have ever seen water fall off the High Level Bridge
into a river that has stretched through us for ages,
that is something special, 
something almost magical.
There is a rush, a current to this city
that settled itself down into the river’s bend
like a magpie housing itself into the V of a tree.
We placed ourselves down here in the Cree’s Beaver Hills House
and began to grow, allowing the rush of the river to chart our path,
erode us into new ways of being, and in that being – the living –
we are building.
We are cradling the past and envisioning the future.
We are a community that knows in its bones
how to bring tools together to build
our own urban barn,
because we are building
and we are making something of ourselves.
We need to continue making beyond this circle
into new areas, new communities,
in the places where we need it the most and 
we do need it.
Magpie’s are often grounded homebodies.
It is a rare thing for a magpie to fly up to a telephone wire,
but it happens, they move around barriers, 
spread their wings, and take flight.
I like to think that Edmonton is a city of ideas taking flight;
a place where the magpies have lifted off,
carrying with them the voices of the landscape,
swooping over this quilt we have sewn together for generations.
And if you look up, you can see a magpie perched
on a telephone line,  feet humming with the stories 
of this city, just waiting
to weave in the next thread 
of this story - 
our story.

Edmonton's Past Poet Laureates


Anna Marie Sewell 2011-2013

 Anna Marie Sewell’s first book of poetry, Fifth World Drum, (2009, Frontenac House) was nominated for the Stephan G. Stephansson Award, City of Edmonton Book Prize,  the Alberta Readers’ Choice Award and the ReLit award. Fifth World Drum won critical acclaim across Canada, from Malahat Review to the Globe and Mail. She adapted and performed select pieces, with live soundscapes, as Suite: Fifth World Drum at the Talking Stick Festival February 21- 28th, part of the Vancouver 2010 Cultural Olympiad.

Anna Marie is a cross-disciplinary, cross-cultural artist; past work of note includes co-coordinating Honour Songs, a tribute to Aboriginal women, for Edmonton’s 2007 Cultural Capital project; and her award winning Heart of the Flower project. Heart of the Flower was based on writing about the year she spent working in a small city north of Kyoto, Japan.

Anna Marie earned a BA Special in Drama, with a minor in Spanish, from University of Alberta – via the scenic route, indulging curiosities about history, poetry, geography and more along the way.

The scenic route has been her career route thus far, which is great for a writer. She has earned her crust as a teacher, community animator, race horse groom, therapist, pasta maker, candy pusher, theatre worker and more. From 1998 – 2001, she even started and ran a company, Big Sky Theatre, producing original Aboriginal theatre. She served on the board of the Edmonton Arts Council from 2003 – 06, which led to such memorable opportunities as visiting Wonju, Korea in pursuit of cultural connections. All along the way, poetry has been a common thread and constant companion.

Anna Marie considers herself to be “quite Canadian” – she is a Status Indian, a Mi’gmaq from Listuguj Mi’gmaq First Nation in Quebec. And though born in Mi’qmaq territory, in Fredericton, NB, her father’s family are mostly Anishnabe, and this is the part of her Aboriginal heritage with which she was most familiar growing up. On the other hand, Anishnabek are traditionally matrilineal, and Anna’s mother is the daughter of Polish immigrants. So, she is also part of the Slavic wave on the prairies, and first generation metis. She’s also a transplanted farm girl, who still loves to play in the dirt. (Go ahead, give her a pony.)

Anna grew up in the Peace country of northwestern Alberta, and only came to Edmonton when university seemed inevitable. Somehow, despite leaving our city three times – a year in Mexico, a year in Japan, two years in BC – she kept coming back. It took a couple of decades to come to grips with the grip this city has. 

Part of that has to do with the bold and challenging climate – the sky, the river, the dynamic weather. A lot more has to do with the cultural life here. In her first year at university, Anna watched Marilyn Dumont read poetry at a Metis women’s gathering and thought – Hey! Can we Do that?! She cobbled together a hand-written portfolio (this was the olden days of the 80s) and applied to Creative Writing class. While the class (thanks Dr. Bert Almon) was interesting, it was even more exciting to get to know other young writers and begin doing things – little readings in obscure venues, gigs on campus radio, and one memorable attempt to do performance poetry at the old Ambassador in the height of its barb-wire/flying bottles heyday.

Anna Marie was a founding member of the Stroll of Poets Society, which has been a remarkable home for poets for 20 years now. She has also taken part in the Edmonton Poetry Festival’s annual month-long shindig, where you might have seen her host the Blinks (80+ poets, 30 seconds each, no hesitation) a time or three.

In early 2009, Anna took a bus out to Abbottsfield Mall, answering a request to facilitate a monthly circle for 3 adult literacy students at the Learning Centre. She did not suspect that, two years later, the group would number 10, meet twice a week, have coordinated a successful city-wide inter-agency conference, and be set to launch a cross-disciplinary project this fall. She is regularly in awe of them, and the Learning Centre staff.

Anna Marie’s most recent project, produced by Edmonton Public Library as part of Aboriginal Month celebrations, is ‘Braidings’  - in which she arranged and directed a readers’ theatre/soundscaped performance, for three voices, of the works of 6 Aboriginal poets representing past, present and future, on the braided themes of Land, Love and Language.

In July, Anna will lead a poetry workshop for Youthwrite, a camp for youth 12- 19, and will also be found pawing the dirt in her backyard and at her daughter’s school garden. As Poet Laureate, Anna Marie  looks forward to collaborating with a broad range of people, and to serving our city with such tools as a poet may offer, to help build and develop our heart, our sense of ourselves as a community of creative possibilities.


Roland Pemberton 2009-2011

Roland Pemberton is an accomplished artist with an established international reputation as an innovative force in hip-hop. His debut album Breaking Kayfabe (2005) earned him nominations for the Canadian Indie Awards and "Best Rap Album of 2006" at the Plug Independent Music Awards, and won CBC Radio 3's Bucky Award. Both Breaking Kayfabe and his sophomore album Afterparty Babies (2008) have earned nominations for the coveted Polaris Music Prize.

Edmonton, and its characters, play a prominent role in Pemberton's work, and his roots to the city run deep. Roland's father, Teddy Pemberton, hosted The Black Experience in Sound on CJSR for 20 years and is often credited with bringing hip-hop to Edmonton. His grandfather, the great Rollie Miles, played for the Edmonton Eskimos from 1951 - 1961 and played in five CFL championship games. His uncle, Edmontonian Brett Miles, is a visual artist, accomplished saxophone player and songwriter who has performed with James Brown and recorded with Mick Jagger.


E.D. (Ted) Blodgett 2008-2009

E. D. (Ted) Blodgett, FRSC, is University Professor Emeritus of Comparative Literature at the University of Alberta. He is currently teaching at MacEwan College and the Campus Saint-Jean where he is professeur auxiliaire in Études canadiennes. His research has varied from mediaeval European romance to Canadian Comparative Literature. His publications include Five-Part Invention: A History of Literary History in Canada (Toronto University Press, 2003) and Elegy (University of Alberta Press, 2005). He has published 17 books of poetry, of which 2 were awarded the Governor General's Award. He is preparing two others. A bilingual edition of his French poems, Le poème invisible, was published in 2008.


Alice Major 2005-2007

Alice has published eight collections of poetry and a novel for young adults, and served as the first poet laureate for the city of Edmonton from 2005- 2007. She came to Edmonton the long way round. She grew up in Dumbarton, Scotland –a small town on the banks of the Clyde, not far from Glasgow. Her family came to Canada when she was eight, and she grew up in Toronto before coming west to work as a reporter on The Williams Lake Tribune in British Columbia. She has been an active supporter of the arts and writing community:

  • Past president of the League of Canadian Poets
  • Past president of the Writers Guild of Alberta
  • Past chair of the Edmonton Arts Council
  • Founder, Edmonton Poetry Festival


Find more information about Mary Pinkoski’s current and upcoming events at the following link to her website: http://marypinkoski.com/new-events/


edmonton arts council