Tag Archives: poetry

I Wrote something

I wrote something.  Actually, two things. Two poems. I’m gonna go work on them. Edit. Edit. Edit.

I need legal pads and post its.

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Barry: [ gets up ] Yeah. Okay, what I do is make sure everyone’s got their gear on, and I cue their guitars, and I bring ’em out onstage.. [ demos ] ..and I start the mikes and make the sure the scarves are always in the right place.. and then, the most important thing – I gotta do a sound check. [ pulls the mike forward ] “Check. Check. Check 1. Sibilance. Sibilance. Check. Check. Check 2. Sibilance. Sibilance.” And that’s pretty much what I do.

Amado called me two hours before the poetry reading to tell me he couldn’t make it. No big deal, he has a family emergency and the guy knows his priorities and I kudos a guy who knows that. Fine, I’m going to host, only I don’t know what the hell I’m going to talk about because I didn’t plan to host yesterday so therefore my topics are limited to only the current events in my life which sums up to my surgery. It’s very not pretty.

On the way there, I realize this is the first poetry reading I host that has a mic. Awesome. Now that I have mic I don’t have to talk too loud because it’ll do it for me. But as Jyg and I are in the car, I remember the Wayne’s World skit where Tom Hanks is a road for Aerosmith and I want nothing more than to do the mic test he does. Only, I can’t recall the fucking skit to save my life. I keep trying to remember the stupid word and know it starts with a ‘s’ and has an ‘ance’  at the end, but couldn’t remember. Missed opportunity. Sigh.

We arrived early, as instructed by Amado and the doors are closed. Apparently no one phoned them to say that I’m now the host. But the Library’s overbooked with evens. In the Texas area, the teen manga group is meeting and there’s another course going on with yarn work. One of the ladies who works at the library asks if the poetry that will be read tonight will be friendly for six teenage girls. I grimace and say it all depends on the poet because we vary, though we normally do warn when we think the material is too adult in nature for some teens. It all depends on their parents, though, in this case, the parents won’t be around. Fine, whatever, I don’t care. I gave her my warning.

So there’s no other room to host this yarn work class, so they box us with the movable walls and they box themselves into the corner. We get to keep the food though. Somewhere along the way, a whole group of the yarn class kids comes in – there are more than six – into our section to listen, eat and work on their stuff. One of them reads, not bad by the way, her poetry.

While I did enjoy the reading, I was a little annoyed with the sudden change of plans that the library had by shoving two groups into the same room. From my understanding, we had the room since October and suddenly we have to share it. Very unprofessional on the library staff to do such a thing, but whatever. We still had a good time and we still enjoyed the reading.

“Remember when I was so strange and likeable?” (Tegan & Sara)

Heartbeats hurt
You have my
Chest full
Of cold night air in my lungs
Limping on two legs 

Don’t you think that I’ve been giving up.

I thought about it. Somethings need more concentration than others and I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. The urge to leave the Valley has never been so big before, but this place feels so small again. I feel suffocated. My energy is nearing zero. And it’s not exercise, you know who you are. It’s more of a mental exhaustion. I feel trapped. I don’t like feeling trapped. I’m okay. I’m not sad. Not right now. I get this way. But right now I think the only reason I feel so suffocated is because I’m not writing as much as I used to. Half of this is good because most of the writings were crap and the other pieces were turned into something better. So I sat down a few nights and started writing emotions, pieces of memories of the break up. I collected the entire lot of memories in my journal, past blogs and my legs (don’t ask, it’s best left unsaid). We’ll see how that turns out. I have an idea of what I want to write, but I just need to figure out how to do it so it’s not bad.

And let this steal your childhood as it has taken mine.

I so need a camera…

Last night’s reading had a great turn out compared to most of the readings I’ve attended these days. A total of eight people read, not including me and El Senor. I announced there will be no October reading, but El made me change my mind. Now I gotta tell everyone there’s on the 25th of October. We’ll see how that one goes. In Novemeber, however, we will wave our goodbyes to Cuppy’s Coffee and host a reading at the Dustin Sekula Public Library. This means no more smoothies for me. Oh well. 

I’ll write more about it as at the time, I’m a bit groggy and unable to form my thoughts.

Sore Throat, Music, Headache & Feeling like a bum

I hate being sick. My throat feels like it’s closing up. I have a poetry reading this Saturday so it’s not a good thing that I’m beginning to feel ill. There is no way that I’m gonna cancel this reading. However, if I have a small turn out, I may just pass the torch over to someone else to host these things. I hate hearing myself talk.

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Sigh…

Before I got into the hoopah of the last post (only a few minutes ago), I was going to update on how I decided of updating Little Ones Against the Stones and turn it into a script for a graphic piece. I know an artist or two I would like to work with, but the whole money thing comes into play. We’ll see.

$10 in my pocket

While shopping for composition books for my  nephew – can you believe they were all out everywhere and that Stables only had one box left?! – Jyg detoured to pick up some drinks at Sonics happy hour. She got a slush and I got a root beer and because it was half off, it only came out to a dollar something for the both of them. She turned to me and asked if I had any cash and I shook my head that I didn’t have any cash and the last dollar I had, I gave to her for something or the other a while back. She had to break a twenty for the drinks.

Later on that night, we went to the poetry reading at Art Expressions, which is still hosted by Ronnie. There were four readers when I got there, but two of them had to leave – one had a problem at home and the other was his ride. That just left me and Ronnie. And because Ronnie never enters the contest because he’s the host, I won ten dollars by default. Lucky me.