The poetry of Philip Metres, which explores themes of resistance, displacement, and refuge, has been shaped by his travels and cultural encounters.

Born in San Diego to Lebanese and Irish parents, Metres has lived in Brooklyn, Chicago, Moscow, and Cleveland. 

Metres read and discussed his work in Gasson 100 on Wednesday as part of the Lowell Humanities Series. 

Metres, an English professor and Director of the Peace, Justice, and Human Rights Program at John Carroll University, is the author of Sand Opera, Shrapnel Maps, I Burned at the Feast: Selected Poems of Arseny Tarkovsky, and, most recently, Fugitive/Refuge. 

He opened the evening with a humorous touch, projecting a meme from the Instagram user @blacklavendermilk titled “How it feels to read a poem in public.” 

The image captured the vulnerability and self-awareness poets often feel while performing their work—an experience Metres readily related to. 

“Writing poetry is crying,” Metres said, offering a premature apology for any possible tears. 

He reminded the audience that to write is to be vulnerable. 

“It is an intimate thing sharing poetry,” said Metres. 

It was then that he read his first poem, “You Have Come Upon People Who Are Like Family and This Open Space.” It was written in the Arabic writing convention, where words on the page are read from right to left rather than left to right. He chose to read line by line, first in the Arabic style, then in English tradition, emphasizing the lines’ intentionality. 

The differences in the English and Arabic languages are another point of inspiration Metres draws on. The English word for enjoying things and the word for a feeling of deep connection are the same, he noted. 

“I love mac and cheese! I love you!” said Metres, to prove his point. 

Metres continued by recounting how his grandfather and great uncle had witnessed their father’s murder in Mexico, a trauma passed down through generations. In his youth, Metres embraced his role as his grandfather’s companion, using poetry to describe the unspoken pain that resonated in his relationships. 

Next was a poem written about his sister’s marriage to a Palestinian man. He described the wedding as a beautiful scene amid grief. His brother-in-law, he noted, bears a scar on his head—a mark of the torture he endured. 

Metres spoke of Palestinian poet Fady Joudah, who told him that Fugitive/Refuge was “a good book, but not for him.” 

“Palestinians will never be free in English,” said Metres. “No other nation can decide it.” 

Some stories, Metres reflected, can only be told by those who have lived them. 

The evening closed with an encore poem—one last invocation of belonging and loss. As he read “Raise Your Glass,” he asked the audience to raise their imaginary glasses with him and repeat “A toast!” every time he read “A toast” in the poem. The lively and engaging reading, a final communal act, powerfully exemplified his poetry’s focus on belonging. 

This lecture in the Lowell series was deeply human and personal, making it one of the best to date, according to English professor Susan Roberts.

“I have been to many Lowell readings over the decades, and this was one of the best,” said Roberts.

Metres undertakes his responsibility as a poet with written work that is original and complex, underscoring the beauty of humanity and the interconnectedness that all desire.