Day One
Hit snow in Flagstaff.
The reading at the Plaid Eatery was the last poetry reading.
Reason the poets don't eat enough food.
Skinny, poor poets driving out the paying public
with their rants and raves.
Brandy L sang her sweet/sour songs.
The hosts Mr. Frip and Mr. Not Frip were fun
and curry hot. Billy C ripped it up.
Day Two
Stuck in snow for two hours over the pass into San Diego.
The new Arts Coloney is in an old motel.
Few people but ever one bought books.
I should say I brought in Corbet Dean
to Desert last week and the Admin flipped
over a graphic police poem he wrote.
I told him to read anything, the kids ooved it
but the parents went crazy.
A year ago I was dancing in an assisted living center
with the ex chief of police. Now this....
I must close for now.
xox
Gary
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Spring Tour 2006
Variety Show Featuring Live Poetry & Music
When: Friday, March 10, 8 pm - 12 am
Where: 1044 S Terrace RD, Tempe, AZ (@ Lemon ST/ NE of Apache & Rural)
Description: Featured reading 2nd Fridays The Plaid Eatery Variety Show Featuring Live Poetry & Music 480-349-9424 | mrfrip1@hotmail.com | Phoenix, AZ
Featured reading - Arts Coloney
When: Saturday, March 11, 7 pm
Where: 90 North Coast Highway, Encinitas, CA
Featured reading, benefit for San Diego Poetry Slam
When: Sunday, March 12, 8 pm
Where: Voz Alta, 1544 Broadway, San Diego, CA
Hanna’s Loving Care
When: Monday, March 13, 10 am
Where: 417 N. Alta Vista Blvd. Los Angeles, CA
Description: More info: 323-930-0836
Garden of Palms
When: March 13, 1:30 pm
Where: 1025 N. Fairfax Ave. Los Angeles, CA
Description: More info: 818-787-0462 Oliva Griffith
GREEN Mini feature
When: March 13, 9 pm - 12 am
Where: Palmer Room (in the back of La Cucina Paradiso) 3387 Motor Ave (between Palms and National) Culver City, CA
Description: Contact Ratpack Slim ratpackslim@gmail.com
The Karlton
When: Tuesday, March 14, 10 am
Where: The Karlton 3615 W. Ball Road Anaheim, CA
Sunrise Assisted Living
When: March 14, 2 pm
Where: Sunrise Assisted Living 201 North Crescent Dr. Beverly Hills, CA
Description: 310-274-4470 Contact Krista
Workshop on using poetry with Alzheimer’s patients, for health care workers, caregivers and family members.
When: March 14, 7 pm
Where: Emmanuel Presbyterian Church 588 Camino Manzanas, Thousand Oaks, CA
Description: More info: 805-498-4502
Brighton Gardens of Camarillo
When: Wed. March 15
Where: Brighton Gardens of Camarillo 6000 Santa Rosa Road Camarillo, CA
Description: 805-388-8086 Contact Stephanie
Featured reading at Berkeley Poetry Slam
When: Wed. March 15, 8:30 pm
Where: STARRY PLOUGH 3101 Shattuck, Berkeley
Description: More info: 510-841-2082
Featured reading
When: Thu, March 16 - 7 pm
Where: Moxie's 128 Broadway, Chico
Description: More info: 530-345-0601
Featured reading at San Jose Poetry Slam
When: Mon, March 20 - 8 pm
Where: The Britannia Arms. 173 W. Santa Clara San Jose
The Mansion
When: Wed. March 22, 10 am
Where: The Mansion 1906 Glen Canyon Rd. Santa Cruz, CA
Description: 831-438-5353 Diane Dearinger
Featured reading at Monterey Poetry Slam
When: Wed. March 22, 8:00 - 10:00 pm
Where: MORGAN'S Coffee & Tea. 498 Washington (@Pearl)
Featured reading at A Mic & Dim Lights
When: Thursday, March 23 - 9 pm
Where: Downtown Cal Poly Center 300 2nd. St. Pomona (Arts Colony)
Featured reader at a Poet’s Dinner benefit for NorAz (NORthern AriZona Poetry Community)
When: Fri, March 24 - 7 pm
Where: Los Abrigados Resort 160 Portal Lane Sedona, AZ
Description: More info: 928-282-1777
Sedona Winds/Kachina Pointe
When: Saturday, March 25
Where: Sedona Winds/Kachina Pointe 475 Jacks Canyon Road Sedona, AZ
Description: Phone: 928-284-1021 Contact: Dorothy Kelly
When: Friday, March 10, 8 pm - 12 am
Where: 1044 S Terrace RD, Tempe, AZ (@ Lemon ST/ NE of Apache & Rural)
Description: Featured reading 2nd Fridays The Plaid Eatery Variety Show Featuring Live Poetry & Music 480-349-9424 | mrfrip1@hotmail.com | Phoenix, AZ
Featured reading - Arts Coloney
When: Saturday, March 11, 7 pm
Where: 90 North Coast Highway, Encinitas, CA
Featured reading, benefit for San Diego Poetry Slam
When: Sunday, March 12, 8 pm
Where: Voz Alta, 1544 Broadway, San Diego, CA
Hanna’s Loving Care
When: Monday, March 13, 10 am
Where: 417 N. Alta Vista Blvd. Los Angeles, CA
Description: More info: 323-930-0836
Garden of Palms
When: March 13, 1:30 pm
Where: 1025 N. Fairfax Ave. Los Angeles, CA
Description: More info: 818-787-0462 Oliva Griffith
GREEN Mini feature
When: March 13, 9 pm - 12 am
Where: Palmer Room (in the back of La Cucina Paradiso) 3387 Motor Ave (between Palms and National) Culver City, CA
Description: Contact Ratpack Slim ratpackslim@gmail.com
The Karlton
When: Tuesday, March 14, 10 am
Where: The Karlton 3615 W. Ball Road Anaheim, CA
Sunrise Assisted Living
When: March 14, 2 pm
Where: Sunrise Assisted Living 201 North Crescent Dr. Beverly Hills, CA
Description: 310-274-4470 Contact Krista
Workshop on using poetry with Alzheimer’s patients, for health care workers, caregivers and family members.
When: March 14, 7 pm
Where: Emmanuel Presbyterian Church 588 Camino Manzanas, Thousand Oaks, CA
Description: More info: 805-498-4502
Brighton Gardens of Camarillo
When: Wed. March 15
Where: Brighton Gardens of Camarillo 6000 Santa Rosa Road Camarillo, CA
Description: 805-388-8086 Contact Stephanie
Featured reading at Berkeley Poetry Slam
When: Wed. March 15, 8:30 pm
Where: STARRY PLOUGH 3101 Shattuck, Berkeley
Description: More info: 510-841-2082
Featured reading
When: Thu, March 16 - 7 pm
Where: Moxie's 128 Broadway, Chico
Description: More info: 530-345-0601
Featured reading at San Jose Poetry Slam
When: Mon, March 20 - 8 pm
Where: The Britannia Arms. 173 W. Santa Clara San Jose
The Mansion
When: Wed. March 22, 10 am
Where: The Mansion 1906 Glen Canyon Rd. Santa Cruz, CA
Description: 831-438-5353 Diane Dearinger
Featured reading at Monterey Poetry Slam
When: Wed. March 22, 8:00 - 10:00 pm
Where: MORGAN'S Coffee & Tea. 498 Washington (@Pearl)
Featured reading at A Mic & Dim Lights
When: Thursday, March 23 - 9 pm
Where: Downtown Cal Poly Center 300 2nd. St. Pomona (Arts Colony)
Featured reader at a Poet’s Dinner benefit for NorAz (NORthern AriZona Poetry Community)
When: Fri, March 24 - 7 pm
Where: Los Abrigados Resort 160 Portal Lane Sedona, AZ
Description: More info: 928-282-1777
Sedona Winds/Kachina Pointe
When: Saturday, March 25
Where: Sedona Winds/Kachina Pointe 475 Jacks Canyon Road Sedona, AZ
Description: Phone: 928-284-1021 Contact: Dorothy Kelly
Friday, January 06, 2006
Leaping Lorca
Last summer the Santa Fe Opera commissioned me to create a piece on the Spanish poet Federico Garica Lorca. I worked with the PPDT and composed "LorcaLand." Here is one of the poems I wrote for the show.
Fuente Grande, Alfacar, Spain The Moors called Fuente Grande, Ainadamar, “The Fountain of Tears.” “Is it my separation from Ainadamar, stopping the pulsation of my blood, which has dried up the flow of tears from the well of my eyes?”
— Abul Barakat al Balafiqi circa AD 1372
Circles expanding on the face of the pond.
As if the surface were broken with rain.
Looking in I see the drops are falling up from the bottom.
A stream rising from the bed of rocks.
Rippling with tension, the steady boil of the rosary.
Flowing into each other a bead of tears.
Fuente Grande forever quenching thirsty dogs.
936 steps from the place of Lorca's execution.
Is this the way words appear breaking free into the mind?
The way kisses are brought into too scarce being?
How the surface of the sun makes yellow?
Where the moon mines her similes?
Gravity has no standing in this courtroom.
The Judge’s gavel is careening upward.
What law breakers the bubbles.
What sinners those molecules of want.
Who cannot answer the prayer of water?
Who does not regret this spilling of justice?
More PPDT
The Precision Poetry Drill Team was selected for a state-wide youth performance night. Feb. 4th at 7pm at the Lensic Theater in downtown Santa Fe. Are we the only poetry marching band? Here is the original group from last year.
Bike Powered Book-Mobile
Here is what one of the readers of H2Poet writes: I am a poet, mother, student, and cook in Montana. I make artist books and self publish, and usually manage to break even on my projects, and sometimes i make enough profit to fund the next one. I have started something akin to an artist collective, but we are focused on books: publishing, self publishing, printmaking, artist books, etc. I am always looking for creative ways to make money and do community service with my passions...and your book has so many great ideas and examples in it, i feel really encouraged to keep working on my dream. I have to brag to you about one of our fun and sucessful projects: a bicycle powered book-mobile. It has been redesigned a bit since the last photos were posted, but you can see it at www.slumgullion.org. Thanks! Debby Florence
NEA
The Alzheimer's Poetry Project (APP) received a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts. The APP will expand to Chicago, Los Angeles, New York, and Washington DC. We have already had great reading sessions in NY with Farbeon. We have sessions in Chicago at the following locations:
Monday, Jan 16th, 10 to 11am
Buckingham Pavilion Nursing Center
2625 W. Touhy Ave.
2 to 3pm
The Admiral at the Lake
909 West Foster Avenue
We also have an exciting event planned with Artists 4 Alzheimer's at the Bowery Poetry Club, in New York on Feb. 20th. The Alzheimer's Poetry Day is based on the idea that all cultural institutions open their doors to people with Alzheimer's and is an extension of Artists 4 Alzheimer's program of bringing people with dementia to the MoMA in NY. We will hold a reading in the club for people with Alzheimer's. Find out more about A4A at www.thehearth.org/Artists/News.htm
If you want to have poetry programming at an assisted living center or find out more info about Sparking Memories: The Alzheimer's Poetry Project Anthology, e-mail me the address below. Check out Alzpoetry.com
We are also looking for people to write about using How to Make a Living as Poet. Did it work? Did it flop? Was it helpful? How to Make a Life as a Poet will be coming out in a few months. We want to publish the best examples in the third book in the series, tentatively called, "Still Not Making a Living as a Poet?"
poetmex@aol.com
Gary Glazner
Friday, November 25, 2005
Across Another Border
Here is a poem written in a walking workshop I gave. We used Santa Fe as our backdrop and inspiration. I took the poets to various places around town, the Capital, Witter Bynner's home, an old print shop, the plaza and we wrote poems based on the locations. This poem came out of visiting a photography gallery. The exercise was to use one of the photos as a basis for your poem. Thanks to Pam for allowing me to post it here. Happy Thanksgiving, xox Gary
Across Another Border
Pamela Bentley
from Carl Mydan’s photograph “Collaborationist (French woman accused of sleeping with German is shaved)”
The clippers in Fernand’s hands dull
before the task of desecrating my mass of hair,
the act meant to shame me,
to destroy my femininity so I will
not be desired by men,
German or otherwise.
Mariette and her sister-in-law Josée laugh,
a joke made at my expense
but that’s nothing new.
Plus ça change …
What difference
if I seek passion in the arms of a man
from across a border?
I did not make these borders;
the lines drawn
have nothing to do with feelings.
Other men’s borders
have brought us to this place
where whom we sleep with is a crime.
And what have these people
who surround me,
taunt me,
delight in my punishment,
done to resist the Germans?
No more than I have.
My act may have even more effect.
Perhaps the satiation of lust,
the giving of love,
dulls the war appetite for battle
for killing –
(though for some it is never there at all,
I learned from the German boy
each night he came to me).
I have no fear of Fernand’s sure touch
as he shaves the back of my neck.
Fernand (who is really Fernando)
and his brother, Martín
(I will see years later when
I come across this photo of us in a gallery)
is almost smiling,
looking directly into the camera.
Martín, who that very night
ran his hands across my shaved head
touched my lips
with his fingers, then his mouth,
said I was still beautiful.
His long slicked-back hair,
when ruffled and released by my fingers through it,
was enough for both of us;
his body and the color of his skin
so like that of my “collaborator”
the “German” boy, blond,
who spoke French and Italian with the same accent
as Martín,
whose language, though like ours,
is from across another border.
Across Another Border
Pamela Bentley
from Carl Mydan’s photograph “Collaborationist (French woman accused of sleeping with German is shaved)”
The clippers in Fernand’s hands dull
before the task of desecrating my mass of hair,
the act meant to shame me,
to destroy my femininity so I will
not be desired by men,
German or otherwise.
Mariette and her sister-in-law Josée laugh,
a joke made at my expense
but that’s nothing new.
Plus ça change …
What difference
if I seek passion in the arms of a man
from across a border?
I did not make these borders;
the lines drawn
have nothing to do with feelings.
Other men’s borders
have brought us to this place
where whom we sleep with is a crime.
And what have these people
who surround me,
taunt me,
delight in my punishment,
done to resist the Germans?
No more than I have.
My act may have even more effect.
Perhaps the satiation of lust,
the giving of love,
dulls the war appetite for battle
for killing –
(though for some it is never there at all,
I learned from the German boy
each night he came to me).
I have no fear of Fernand’s sure touch
as he shaves the back of my neck.
Fernand (who is really Fernando)
and his brother, Martín
(I will see years later when
I come across this photo of us in a gallery)
is almost smiling,
looking directly into the camera.
Martín, who that very night
ran his hands across my shaved head
touched my lips
with his fingers, then his mouth,
said I was still beautiful.
His long slicked-back hair,
when ruffled and released by my fingers through it,
was enough for both of us;
his body and the color of his skin
so like that of my “collaborator”
the “German” boy, blond,
who spoke French and Italian with the same accent
as Martín,
whose language, though like ours,
is from across another border.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Mo PPDT and the Poetry Shed
PPDT performed at Zozobra, Santa Fe’s version of burning man, which predates burning man by sixty or so years. This festival attracts over 20,000 people. We had an early time slot and would perform for several hundred people with the caveat that if the producers of the festival liked our performance, they would bring us back right before the burn. I made a hodgepodge loop of some Jimi Hendrix guitar solos and scratching and we created a “Burn Him! Burn Him” chant to recite over the loop. The producers loved it, brought us back and we performed in front of the full crowd. It was amazing to look out over the field and see those tens of thousands of faces and feel the energy as they started to chant with us.
As part of this same weekend “Fiesta Days,” which has been held continuously in Santa Fe for 180 or so years, there is a wonderful event called the “Children’s Pet Parade.” About five thousand citizens of Santa line the streets to watch marching bands, civic groups and costumed pet lovers parade. I believe we were the first poetry group to march in the pet parade and I created a poetry/army style chant “How do I love thee, Let me count the ways, One Two...ect.” The crowd went wild as we poet-stepped by reciting, “The Tyger,” and “We Real Cool.” It was a nonstop hour long performance, that covered a couple of miles.
OK, what is a poetry shed? Ever since I saw the Monty Python episode including the obscure bit about “Two Sheds Jackson,” a man famous for owning two sheds, I have wanted my own shed, this year my dream came true. As we were short of classrooms I was given the option of cleaning out an old adobe building on the Desert Academy campus. As I gathered a stage, lights and last to complete the nightclub feel, small round cocktail table, I felt like Mickey Rooney saying “Hey kids, let’s put on a show!” I found out about the space on the Friday, before school started and worked all weekend, including making a fused glass “Poetry Shed” sign. I think at least part of our momentum this semester has to do with having a great performance space. Just imagine you are a high school student and you get to go to class in a quarter-size night club!
Tonight, (OCt 7th) we perform a mulit-voiced version of “Howl” at the High Mayhem Festival, to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of Ginsberg’s first public reading of the poem. Yesterday, while we were rehearsing “Howl” one of the kids said, “This has to be the coolest poem ever.” (Up date: our reading of "Howl" went over gangbusters! and the High Mayhem folks did an great job all weekend)
Next up: I am reading at the Texas Book Festival on Oct 28th, Friday night at Mojo's. A fun gig run like a talk show, with Matthew John Conley, Andy Buck, Amelia Ortiz, and Liz Belile.
As part of this same weekend “Fiesta Days,” which has been held continuously in Santa Fe for 180 or so years, there is a wonderful event called the “Children’s Pet Parade.” About five thousand citizens of Santa line the streets to watch marching bands, civic groups and costumed pet lovers parade. I believe we were the first poetry group to march in the pet parade and I created a poetry/army style chant “How do I love thee, Let me count the ways, One Two...ect.” The crowd went wild as we poet-stepped by reciting, “The Tyger,” and “We Real Cool.” It was a nonstop hour long performance, that covered a couple of miles.
OK, what is a poetry shed? Ever since I saw the Monty Python episode including the obscure bit about “Two Sheds Jackson,” a man famous for owning two sheds, I have wanted my own shed, this year my dream came true. As we were short of classrooms I was given the option of cleaning out an old adobe building on the Desert Academy campus. As I gathered a stage, lights and last to complete the nightclub feel, small round cocktail table, I felt like Mickey Rooney saying “Hey kids, let’s put on a show!” I found out about the space on the Friday, before school started and worked all weekend, including making a fused glass “Poetry Shed” sign. I think at least part of our momentum this semester has to do with having a great performance space. Just imagine you are a high school student and you get to go to class in a quarter-size night club!
Tonight, (OCt 7th) we perform a mulit-voiced version of “Howl” at the High Mayhem Festival, to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of Ginsberg’s first public reading of the poem. Yesterday, while we were rehearsing “Howl” one of the kids said, “This has to be the coolest poem ever.” (Up date: our reading of "Howl" went over gangbusters! and the High Mayhem folks did an great job all weekend)
Next up: I am reading at the Texas Book Festival on Oct 28th, Friday night at Mojo's. A fun gig run like a talk show, with Matthew John Conley, Andy Buck, Amelia Ortiz, and Liz Belile.
Bit o' Good News from DrSleepadelic@aol.com
CALLING ALL POETS, ARTISTS & FRIENDS
of the New Orleans Community
It is time.
On THURSDAY, OCTOBER 13 a critical gathering of NEW ORLEANS artists, poets and friends will assemble at The Gold Mine Saloon with a general reception between 6:00 - 8:00pm.
This event "STILL STANDING" will be a joining of hands for many of our beloved and special people in the New Orleans community whose great friendships and words and works are most vital to this region.
The event will feature a stellar cast of painters, poets, writers, musicians, artists and friends of all walks and minds.
It will also be a time for strength and for helping further our awareness of the great and incomprenhensible occurences that manifested on Monday, August 29 leading into these many nights and days since the landfall of Hurricane Katrina.
Please celebrate this great return with us, and also, as we celebrate the return of the 17 POETS! Weekly Thursday Night Poetry Reading Series at The Gold Mine.
YAWP: A Journal of Poetry & Art is also formally announcing the final call for submissions for its upcoming 3rd issue.
Those who will be making presentations on Thursday, October 13 at 8:00pm include:
DAVE BRINKS, MEGAN BURNS, JOHN CALHOUN, ROB CAMBRE, CHRIS CHAMPAGNE, PAUL CHASSE, JOSHUA CLARK, JOHNETTE DOWNING, GINA FERRARA, DANIEL FINNIGAN, DENNIS FORMENTO, ELIZABETH GARCIA, ANDREA GARLAND, GABE GOMEZ, THADDEUS CONTI, MICHAEL GREENE, LEE MEITZEN GRUE, NANCY HARRIS, KHALED HEGAZZI, CAROLYN HEMBREE, JULIE KANE, HERBERT KEARNEY, CRYSTAL KILE, JONATHAN KLINE, BILL LAVENDER, JARRET LOFSTEAD, JAMES NOLAN, BRENDA MARIE OSBEY, ADAM PELTZ, LEE QUICK, BEVERLY RAINBOLT, ROMANO, LEWIS SCHMIDT, JASON SONGE, RANDY VIDRINE, DR. JERRY WARD, STEPHANIE WILLIAMS, AND ANDY YOUNG.
This event will be documented by our longtime videographer LANCE ARNOLD.
The Gold Mine is located at 701 Dauphine, on the corner of Dauphine and St. Peter in the French Quarter of New Orleans, 504-586-0745 and 504-568-9125.
Love,
Dave Brinks
of the New Orleans Community
It is time.
On THURSDAY, OCTOBER 13 a critical gathering of NEW ORLEANS artists, poets and friends will assemble at The Gold Mine Saloon with a general reception between 6:00 - 8:00pm.
This event "STILL STANDING" will be a joining of hands for many of our beloved and special people in the New Orleans community whose great friendships and words and works are most vital to this region.
The event will feature a stellar cast of painters, poets, writers, musicians, artists and friends of all walks and minds.
It will also be a time for strength and for helping further our awareness of the great and incomprenhensible occurences that manifested on Monday, August 29 leading into these many nights and days since the landfall of Hurricane Katrina.
Please celebrate this great return with us, and also, as we celebrate the return of the 17 POETS! Weekly Thursday Night Poetry Reading Series at The Gold Mine.
YAWP: A Journal of Poetry & Art is also formally announcing the final call for submissions for its upcoming 3rd issue.
Those who will be making presentations on Thursday, October 13 at 8:00pm include:
DAVE BRINKS, MEGAN BURNS, JOHN CALHOUN, ROB CAMBRE, CHRIS CHAMPAGNE, PAUL CHASSE, JOSHUA CLARK, JOHNETTE DOWNING, GINA FERRARA, DANIEL FINNIGAN, DENNIS FORMENTO, ELIZABETH GARCIA, ANDREA GARLAND, GABE GOMEZ, THADDEUS CONTI, MICHAEL GREENE, LEE MEITZEN GRUE, NANCY HARRIS, KHALED HEGAZZI, CAROLYN HEMBREE, JULIE KANE, HERBERT KEARNEY, CRYSTAL KILE, JONATHAN KLINE, BILL LAVENDER, JARRET LOFSTEAD, JAMES NOLAN, BRENDA MARIE OSBEY, ADAM PELTZ, LEE QUICK, BEVERLY RAINBOLT, ROMANO, LEWIS SCHMIDT, JASON SONGE, RANDY VIDRINE, DR. JERRY WARD, STEPHANIE WILLIAMS, AND ANDY YOUNG.
This event will be documented by our longtime videographer LANCE ARNOLD.
The Gold Mine is located at 701 Dauphine, on the corner of Dauphine and St. Peter in the French Quarter of New Orleans, 504-586-0745 and 504-568-9125.
Love,
Dave Brinks
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Precision Poetry Drill Team/Lit Journal
Hey Blog,
Sorry, I have been so bad about posting. I promise to never neglect you again, no really. The Precision Poetry Drill Team and I were commissioned this summer to compose a piece on Federcio Garcia Lorca for the Santa Fe Opera's festival on Lorca. We performed LorcaLand twice. The kids wrote hip-hop flavored flow and we did a mash up of Lorca's "Lament" and Hernandez's "Lullaby of the Onion." It was a great send off after working together for the past year. Our group version of "Verde te que quiero Verde," done as a kind of chant was well received. A section of the was show entitled, "Whose Lorca?"It consisted of video I shot at a street fair in Santa Fe, and all the answers people gave off the top of their heads. Two women hula hooping were the best as they purposely confused Lorca with Gabriel Garcia Marquez, calling him Gabriel Garcia Lorca.
Here is link to NPR's "All Things Considered" story on the PPDT.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4615966
Yesterday classes at Desert Academy began and I now have 18 Drill Teamers, as well as teaching a literary journal class. The students are whip smart and we have been asked to perform at Zozobra, which is kind of like "Burning Man," without the nudity and predates it by about 50 years. Part of this post is to show the Lit J class what a blog is and I just want to say, they are sweet and I can't wait to see what they do this year. I am running the class like a small press and our first project is to do a parody of the New Yorker. They will also be creating a blog and doing podcasts. I will put a link up from this site.
I really did miss you old blog o mine.
Big kisses and hugs,
Gary Mex
P.S. Sparking Memories: The Alzheimer's Poetry Project Anthology
is done and you can find out more about the book
at Alzpoetry.com
Thanks to Bread for the Journey for the funding!!
Sorry, I have been so bad about posting. I promise to never neglect you again, no really. The Precision Poetry Drill Team and I were commissioned this summer to compose a piece on Federcio Garcia Lorca for the Santa Fe Opera's festival on Lorca. We performed LorcaLand twice. The kids wrote hip-hop flavored flow and we did a mash up of Lorca's "Lament" and Hernandez's "Lullaby of the Onion." It was a great send off after working together for the past year. Our group version of "Verde te que quiero Verde," done as a kind of chant was well received. A section of the was show entitled, "Whose Lorca?"It consisted of video I shot at a street fair in Santa Fe, and all the answers people gave off the top of their heads. Two women hula hooping were the best as they purposely confused Lorca with Gabriel Garcia Marquez, calling him Gabriel Garcia Lorca.
Here is link to NPR's "All Things Considered" story on the PPDT.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4615966
Yesterday classes at Desert Academy began and I now have 18 Drill Teamers, as well as teaching a literary journal class. The students are whip smart and we have been asked to perform at Zozobra, which is kind of like "Burning Man," without the nudity and predates it by about 50 years. Part of this post is to show the Lit J class what a blog is and I just want to say, they are sweet and I can't wait to see what they do this year. I am running the class like a small press and our first project is to do a parody of the New Yorker. They will also be creating a blog and doing podcasts. I will put a link up from this site.
I really did miss you old blog o mine.
Big kisses and hugs,
Gary Mex
P.S. Sparking Memories: The Alzheimer's Poetry Project Anthology
is done and you can find out more about the book
at Alzpoetry.com
Thanks to Bread for the Journey for the funding!!
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
TWO POETRY SITE VISITS
Albuquerque, ER Break Room: 2:05pm, 5/06/2005
“What was your trauma?”
“He fell off a horse-
then the horse fell on him.”
“Ouch.”
Tapping foot off time to the classical guitar,
a nervous tap, soft shoe, a brown clog.
“I don’t want to heat up the salmon too much fishy smell.”
“I’ve never even had a massage.”
“You lazy shit.”
Reaches around and tickles her.
Breath deep.
Guitar cascading cords.
Cotton scrubs, blue, green, clean.
Plastic badges pinned and visible.
An intercom system blasting:
C8 is ready for Swift, Swift is ready for C8
Santa Fe, Juvenile Lock Down: 4:12pm 5/06/2005
“Are you carrying any weapons?”
“No.”
“You left your grenades at home?”
“Yes.”
Blue doors slide open and close, with a hollow metal click.
Walkie Talkie, “Be advised you have two visitors.”
40 cotton jumpers, plain, all brown.
Guitar graduation.
They play Black Magic Woman.
One guy is shaking uncontrollably.
The guards see him.
Bring him out of the room.
Jamming, grrrl lock downs screaming,
boy lock downs howling.
The guy is shaking.
Breath deep.
Shake out your arms, breath deep.
They play Hotel California.
The shaking guy sits down.
All the girls sing harmony.
As they file out, “Watch your personal space.”
When I ask one of the guards about the shaking boy,
she says, “Fine,” inhaling the word, turning her head down
and sliding her eyes shut.
“What was your trauma?”
“He fell off a horse-
then the horse fell on him.”
“Ouch.”
Tapping foot off time to the classical guitar,
a nervous tap, soft shoe, a brown clog.
“I don’t want to heat up the salmon too much fishy smell.”
“I’ve never even had a massage.”
“You lazy shit.”
Reaches around and tickles her.
Breath deep.
Guitar cascading cords.
Cotton scrubs, blue, green, clean.
Plastic badges pinned and visible.
An intercom system blasting:
C8 is ready for Swift, Swift is ready for C8
Santa Fe, Juvenile Lock Down: 4:12pm 5/06/2005
“Are you carrying any weapons?”
“No.”
“You left your grenades at home?”
“Yes.”
Blue doors slide open and close, with a hollow metal click.
Walkie Talkie, “Be advised you have two visitors.”
40 cotton jumpers, plain, all brown.
Guitar graduation.
They play Black Magic Woman.
One guy is shaking uncontrollably.
The guards see him.
Bring him out of the room.
Jamming, grrrl lock downs screaming,
boy lock downs howling.
The guy is shaking.
Breath deep.
Shake out your arms, breath deep.
They play Hotel California.
The shaking guy sits down.
All the girls sing harmony.
As they file out, “Watch your personal space.”
When I ask one of the guards about the shaking boy,
she says, “Fine,” inhaling the word, turning her head down
and sliding her eyes shut.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Youth National Poetry Slam
Just got back from four wonderful days in San Francisco at the 8th annual Youth National Poetry Slam. The final event was the best attended poetry slam in the history of slam with 3000 poetry fans going nuts. New York won and will host the event next year. The team pushed the boundaries of poetry into what is being called "Hip Hop Theater." It is quite amazing to see 3000 people leap to their collective feet to cheer a poem.
The real success story on the festival was the Chico Team, who also made the finals. The team put together by Aaron Yamaguchi had strong writing and dynamic group pieces. More on this latter but for now many thanks to James Kass and everyone at Youth Speaks who put together the event.
NPR's "All Things Considered," aired a segment on the Precision Poetry Drill Team and you can listen to the story here:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4615966
I am off to the airport for a reading at a school in Savannah!
The real success story on the festival was the Chico Team, who also made the finals. The team put together by Aaron Yamaguchi had strong writing and dynamic group pieces. More on this latter but for now many thanks to James Kass and everyone at Youth Speaks who put together the event.
NPR's "All Things Considered," aired a segment on the Precision Poetry Drill Team and you can listen to the story here:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4615966
I am off to the airport for a reading at a school in Savannah!
Poet's Plaza
One of my favorite chapters in How to Make a Living as a Poet, is on the Poet's Plaza.
I like it because the project started out as an exercise how an architecture class and everyone got so enthused with the idea it ended up being a real flesh and concrete project. Here is the project directors' description of the ground breaking ceremony, which was held on April 22nd.
"I wanted to tell you a sweet little story from the Poets' Plaza groundbreaking. We did all the background and thanks, then Dale Harris read a beautiful poem and then Masood, one of the kids from Escuela del Sol, read one his poems. As we started to scoop up some earth to scatter (with our gold shovel) someone hollered to look into the sky and there was a perfect little rainbow across one of the clouds (someone said it was a sun dog?!?). We scattered some earth, sprinkled flower petals around and lots of folks, little children, parents, poets, artists, and grandparents, wandered in and out of the circle Cassandra (the artist who designed the plaza) traced in the ground. Very lovely. And auspicious, I think." Susan McAlister, Harwood Art Center, Albuquerque, New Mexico
For more info on the Poet's Plaza you can reach her at susanmc@swcp.com
I like it because the project started out as an exercise how an architecture class and everyone got so enthused with the idea it ended up being a real flesh and concrete project. Here is the project directors' description of the ground breaking ceremony, which was held on April 22nd.
"I wanted to tell you a sweet little story from the Poets' Plaza groundbreaking. We did all the background and thanks, then Dale Harris read a beautiful poem and then Masood, one of the kids from Escuela del Sol, read one his poems. As we started to scoop up some earth to scatter (with our gold shovel) someone hollered to look into the sky and there was a perfect little rainbow across one of the clouds (someone said it was a sun dog?!?). We scattered some earth, sprinkled flower petals around and lots of folks, little children, parents, poets, artists, and grandparents, wandered in and out of the circle Cassandra (the artist who designed the plaza) traced in the ground. Very lovely. And auspicious, I think." Susan McAlister, Harwood Art Center, Albuquerque, New Mexico
For more info on the Poet's Plaza you can reach her at susanmc@swcp.com
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Poet/Murderer
Turns out Chicago poet J.J. Jameson was leading a double life. Check out this spin on the story:
http://www.americandaily.com/article/7269
Here is excerpt one of Jameson's poems from Chicagopoetry.com:
The Puttering Penis
Las week, late last week,
I went to the theater to listen, raptly,
to the vagina monologuing.
I put my ear down close,
I mean really, really close,
I wanted to hear every spluttering syllable,
I wanted to bite very pulsating enunciation.
I put my other ear down,
I mean really, really down,
I did not wish to miss fondling, aurally,
any climatic sentence even a fragmented one,
preferably a compound one.
Kurt Heintz, has some interesting comments:
http://voices.e-poets.net/JamesonJJ/
Slam Pappy Marc Smith is quoted as saying to the Chicago Sun-Times,"This is a huge one, It will be shocking to everybody and a little disconcerting. That's pretty wild."
Is it true that if you could be arrested for bad poetry he would have been caught years ago?
http://www.americandaily.com/article/7269
Here is excerpt one of Jameson's poems from Chicagopoetry.com:
The Puttering Penis
Las week, late last week,
I went to the theater to listen, raptly,
to the vagina monologuing.
I put my ear down close,
I mean really, really close,
I wanted to hear every spluttering syllable,
I wanted to bite very pulsating enunciation.
I put my other ear down,
I mean really, really down,
I did not wish to miss fondling, aurally,
any climatic sentence even a fragmented one,
preferably a compound one.
Kurt Heintz, has some interesting comments:
http://voices.e-poets.net/JamesonJJ/
Slam Pappy Marc Smith is quoted as saying to the Chicago Sun-Times,"This is a huge one, It will be shocking to everybody and a little disconcerting. That's pretty wild."
Is it true that if you could be arrested for bad poetry he would have been caught years ago?
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Bowery Poetry Club
This post is out of sequence and goes back to March 29th. The flight into New York was delayed because of weather and we circled Chicago for an hour as huge clouds filled and exploded with lighting. I wonder what Wordsworth would have written about wandering lonely clouds if he could have seen them from 30,000 feet. Coming off the plane it was made clear that I had missed my connection and would have to spend the night in Chicago. As I was heading to take the train into town, I heard my name over the intercom system being paged to a certain gate. The short of the story is that the airline actually brought the plane back off the tarmac and allowed about 6 passengers to board.
I got into New York about 1:30am and recited, "The Owl and Pussy Cat," while standing on the bar. Two of the regulars got into a shouting match, each telling the other they should listen to me. When I got to the "O pussy, O pussy what a beautiful pussy your are," line, the woman regular said, "Please talk about my pussy," and the man regular went crazy, yelling about her pussy, which ended with her punching him in the face and him returning the punch, but she had got the best of him and they both were exiled from the bar. That's Slam Poetry!
I got into New York about 1:30am and recited, "The Owl and Pussy Cat," while standing on the bar. Two of the regulars got into a shouting match, each telling the other they should listen to me. When I got to the "O pussy, O pussy what a beautiful pussy your are," line, the woman regular said, "Please talk about my pussy," and the man regular went crazy, yelling about her pussy, which ended with her punching him in the face and him returning the punch, but she had got the best of him and they both were exiled from the bar. That's Slam Poetry!
Robert Creeley Saved Sam Hamill
Tucson Poetry Festival
Was interviewed with Sam Hamill yesterday on the local public radio station. He did a poem in the voice of his long time friend Robert Creeley, turns out Sam can do a perfect imitation of Creeley's dry voice, so accurate that Sam used to call up Creeley's house when Creeley was on tour and talk to his wife as Creeley, which of course pissed off both wife and poet. That led to me asking Sam to tell a story about Bob. Sam said, "I owe my life to Creeley," and proceeded to tell how when Creeley had run off with Rexroth's wife Martha, Sam was addicted to heroin and how Creeley had told him, "Your heroes Miles Davis and John Coltrane both kicked heroin because it was killing them and their music." He then locked Sam in a bedroom for five days as he kicked his habit. Sam ended, "So if Creeley hadn't been diddling Martha I might not be alive." Later we started talking about Haiku and Sam made the point that translators always get Basho's frog poem wrong its not a frog splashing into an old pond, its a frog jumping into water sound.
Was interviewed with Sam Hamill yesterday on the local public radio station. He did a poem in the voice of his long time friend Robert Creeley, turns out Sam can do a perfect imitation of Creeley's dry voice, so accurate that Sam used to call up Creeley's house when Creeley was on tour and talk to his wife as Creeley, which of course pissed off both wife and poet. That led to me asking Sam to tell a story about Bob. Sam said, "I owe my life to Creeley," and proceeded to tell how when Creeley had run off with Rexroth's wife Martha, Sam was addicted to heroin and how Creeley had told him, "Your heroes Miles Davis and John Coltrane both kicked heroin because it was killing them and their music." He then locked Sam in a bedroom for five days as he kicked his habit. Sam ended, "So if Creeley hadn't been diddling Martha I might not be alive." Later we started talking about Haiku and Sam made the point that translators always get Basho's frog poem wrong its not a frog splashing into an old pond, its a frog jumping into water sound.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Alpha Rooster
Ithaca New York
Often when engaged in a poetry tour, one finds themselves crashing on someone's couch. Andy Slamtractor runs a great reading series up in Ithaca and the evening ended with an invitation to crash on his friend Mina's couch with the caveat that I help her with a rooster problem. She had adopted this fine fellow from a friend and now it was temporarily in a garbage can, with hay and chicken wire top, waiting to be moved into his new coop. The idea was that I would move the rooster in exchange for sleeping on the couch. Luckily one of Mina's friend's is a poultry expert and gave me instructions on handling roosters. It seems that because roosters subscribe to the pecking order theory that all one has to do is establish that one is the alpha rooster in order to control the lower rooster. In order to help all touring poets who find themselves in this position here is a step-by-step guide to becoming an Alpha Rooster:
1. Get a firm grip on the rooster's back.
2. Push it to the ground.
3. Reach underneath the rooster and grab its legs.
4. Flip the rooster on its back.
You now have complete control of the rooster and can move it as needed. Caution, you have about 3 seconds between grabbing the rooster's back and pushing it to the ground to establish dominance before the rooster realizes you are not the Alpha and pecks the shit out of your hand.
All night I thought about the rooster. In the morning Mina and I went outside and approached the rooster. I made my first mistake when I moved the garbage can closer to the coop, this enraged the rooster and when I removed the chicken wire top he puffed up, his feathers swelling with anger. I reached down grabbed his back, his beck dug into my hand and he pulled loose. He winged out of the can and began to race around the yard, me splashing in the mud after him. Mina shouting, "Catch him, catch him. He was fast and darted from out the can each time I tried to put it over his head.
Then he turned into a fenced in section of the yard and banged his head against the fence and in his dizzy state I grabbed him, pushed him down and got hold of his legs. Mina, shouted, "Flip him," and he went limp as I put him in his coop.
What a male ego opportunity. Don't forget poetry sounds like poultry.
xox
Gary
Often when engaged in a poetry tour, one finds themselves crashing on someone's couch. Andy Slamtractor runs a great reading series up in Ithaca and the evening ended with an invitation to crash on his friend Mina's couch with the caveat that I help her with a rooster problem. She had adopted this fine fellow from a friend and now it was temporarily in a garbage can, with hay and chicken wire top, waiting to be moved into his new coop. The idea was that I would move the rooster in exchange for sleeping on the couch. Luckily one of Mina's friend's is a poultry expert and gave me instructions on handling roosters. It seems that because roosters subscribe to the pecking order theory that all one has to do is establish that one is the alpha rooster in order to control the lower rooster. In order to help all touring poets who find themselves in this position here is a step-by-step guide to becoming an Alpha Rooster:
1. Get a firm grip on the rooster's back.
2. Push it to the ground.
3. Reach underneath the rooster and grab its legs.
4. Flip the rooster on its back.
You now have complete control of the rooster and can move it as needed. Caution, you have about 3 seconds between grabbing the rooster's back and pushing it to the ground to establish dominance before the rooster realizes you are not the Alpha and pecks the shit out of your hand.
All night I thought about the rooster. In the morning Mina and I went outside and approached the rooster. I made my first mistake when I moved the garbage can closer to the coop, this enraged the rooster and when I removed the chicken wire top he puffed up, his feathers swelling with anger. I reached down grabbed his back, his beck dug into my hand and he pulled loose. He winged out of the can and began to race around the yard, me splashing in the mud after him. Mina shouting, "Catch him, catch him. He was fast and darted from out the can each time I tried to put it over his head.
Then he turned into a fenced in section of the yard and banged his head against the fence and in his dizzy state I grabbed him, pushed him down and got hold of his legs. Mina, shouted, "Flip him," and he went limp as I put him in his coop.
What a male ego opportunity. Don't forget poetry sounds like poultry.
xox
Gary
Monday, March 21, 2005
The Purple Cow and Monkey Nuts
Although the majority of readings I have done for Alzhiemer's patients have been enjoyable and rewarding, like any endeavor sometimes things don't go as hoped for.
Today in Savannah the patients had bruised eyes, sores erupting from their skin,
they drifted in and out of focus mostly out. The facility was clean and seemed well run, just a sleepy time of day and a group on their last legs.
As I was reading them "The Purple Cow," one woman began screaming at me, "Does the Monkey want a peanut?" Then she would look around and yell, "Does anyone have peanuts for this monkey?"
On the positive side another woman mouthed the words of the poems along with me and clapped when I finished the poems and the woman with the worst facial sores knew most of the words to Psalm 23, "The Lord is my Shepard..." which she recited with verve.
Today in Savannah the patients had bruised eyes, sores erupting from their skin,
they drifted in and out of focus mostly out. The facility was clean and seemed well run, just a sleepy time of day and a group on their last legs.
As I was reading them "The Purple Cow," one woman began screaming at me, "Does the Monkey want a peanut?" Then she would look around and yell, "Does anyone have peanuts for this monkey?"
On the positive side another woman mouthed the words of the poems along with me and clapped when I finished the poems and the woman with the worst facial sores knew most of the words to Psalm 23, "The Lord is my Shepard..." which she recited with verve.
Musical Hot Tub
The reading last night in Greenville, SC went well, good audience and a great local
retro beat band with growling lead poet, were they called, "Daddy Jack and the Paddy Wacks?" The reading is run by Kimberly and she packed the house. Wendy Loomis an old friend from Poetry Alive showed up and we went back to her house in the woods of North Carolina. We had crab stuffed pork chops, then ventured out to the hot tub, which included a rotating light show and old time jazz. The tub also had a water fall spout and foot jets, producing a full body vibration that bordered on illicit. While test scores continue to fall and today's headlines reveal that the pressure for schools to perform under the "Leave Know Child Behind," act has led schools in Texas to cheat- not the students but the teachers and administrators, America continues to lead the world in hot tub design! Soak! Soak! Soak!
retro beat band with growling lead poet, were they called, "Daddy Jack and the Paddy Wacks?" The reading is run by Kimberly and she packed the house. Wendy Loomis an old friend from Poetry Alive showed up and we went back to her house in the woods of North Carolina. We had crab stuffed pork chops, then ventured out to the hot tub, which included a rotating light show and old time jazz. The tub also had a water fall spout and foot jets, producing a full body vibration that bordered on illicit. While test scores continue to fall and today's headlines reveal that the pressure for schools to perform under the "Leave Know Child Behind," act has led schools in Texas to cheat- not the students but the teachers and administrators, America continues to lead the world in hot tub design! Soak! Soak! Soak!
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Kayaking Honey Creek
The Southeast Booksellers retreat is v. relaxing, all the food is fried, all the booksellers love books, yoga in the morning and wine at night. Wanda Jewell
who puts it on is welcoming and has the great idea to put writers and booksellers
together and see what sparks fly. It really is wonderful to meet people who own and manage bookstores and learn how hard they work to put the right book with the right person; how hand selling does still exist, even with the malling of America.
Every poet/writer should have the chance to chill with book people.
This morning I took a kayak out on Honey Creek, the water was still and flat, red headed woodpeckers pecked about and the living was easy.
Yesterday, all the attendees got massages. The novelist Elizabeth Flock (Me and Emma)
had the best line, when she looked up with her big green eyes and told the masseuse, "Anna, if we were both single, you would be my girl." To which Anna replied by increasing the pressure of her kneading.
Ah, life on Honey Creek. Late at night we danced to swing music. Are you old enough to boogie?
who puts it on is welcoming and has the great idea to put writers and booksellers
together and see what sparks fly. It really is wonderful to meet people who own and manage bookstores and learn how hard they work to put the right book with the right person; how hand selling does still exist, even with the malling of America.
Every poet/writer should have the chance to chill with book people.
This morning I took a kayak out on Honey Creek, the water was still and flat, red headed woodpeckers pecked about and the living was easy.
Yesterday, all the attendees got massages. The novelist Elizabeth Flock (Me and Emma)
had the best line, when she looked up with her big green eyes and told the masseuse, "Anna, if we were both single, you would be my girl." To which Anna replied by increasing the pressure of her kneading.
Ah, life on Honey Creek. Late at night we danced to swing music. Are you old enough to boogie?
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