NEWS FLASH: Mark Your Calendars! louder than words Bowery Poetry Club Saturday, March 27 & Saturday, April 3 8pm SHARP! It's Politically Incorrect meets David Letterman. Def Poetry with an editor. Slam poetry with a brain. It's a little bit smarter, a little bit quicker, a little bit louder...than words. The dates are tentative, pending tomorrow's meeting with Bob but it looks it should be a go. It's an intimidating time slot, prime time Saturday night, and only two weeks to promote the first show so I'm really going to have to bust my ass to pull it all together.…
First drafts of poetry, as well as commentary on poems, poets and poetry-related randomonia.
Sent my BRIO submission in today, two days before the deadline. Thank you, Express Mail! It's the first time I've submitted for something like this - other than a single poem entered in a Literal Latte contest way back in 1999; I just don't have the self-discipline - and it was a real challenge to decide what to submit. 10 pages aren't very many poems when most of mine average 3 pages each. (Slam influence, anyone?) The fact that I knew I was definitely submitting Mozer, Bethea and I - a five-pager! - severely limited my other options as I…
RIP: Pedro Pietri
Woke up this morning / feeling excellent! / Picked up the telephone / dialed the number / Of my equal opportunity / employer to inform him / I will not be in / to work today! / Are you feeling sick? / the Boss asked me, / "No Sir" I replied, / I am feeling too good / to report to work today! / If I feel sick tomorrow / I will come in early. --TELEPHONE BOOTH NUMBER 905, by El Reverendo Pedro Pietri Pedro Pietri died yesterday. From the Nuyorican: "The family and friends of Pedro Pietri will keep…
Stark lines in the sand
A recent discussion in Morris Stegosaurus’ journal and a conversation last night about the poetry scene got me thinking about change and evolution and what influences both.
I haven’t been to Bar 13 in the longest and have been waiting for the next UPPERCASE to come around as a reason to go. UPPERCASE always represented the best of what we did there with the series, putting the spotlight on a handful of relative newcomers and giving them the room to stretch their legs beyond the confines of the open mic or the slam. For many, it was their first time ever as a featured poet. The vast majority stepped up to the plate and knocked it out of the park and were always appreciative of the opportunity. The criteria was admittedly subjective as I was influenced as much by the quality of the work as the quality of the person, and I frequently took chances on people who, by the definition of some, weren’t “ready yet” – a bullshit descriptor in a scene predominantly made up of relatively unaccomplished amateurs.
Anyway, I check their calendar every now and then, hoping to see an UPPERCASE on the bill and have been disappointed every time by its absence. Someone suggested that there just weren’t enough good new people to schedule one but I see that as the craftsman blaming his tools. It’s been six months or so and there haven’t been three decent newcomers on the scene? There’s more than that many at every Acentos! What. Ever.
More discouragingly, I’ve noticed a narrowing of their focus as they’ve begun doing more targeted formats like GrooveNation, for black poets; Raise the Red Tent, the rejiggered – and reportedly more restrictive – House of Woman-aka-WomanNoise; and now Q2, the new queer reading that started out at the Bowery.
Ironic that a venue once known for having one of the most inclusive reading series’ in the city is now drawing such stark lines in the sand. Disappointing, too.
Maybe it's the time of year, winter having long worn out its welcome while spring remains little more than a distant hope. The mixed emotions of the holidays are long past and the bills are almost, but not quite, paid off. The memory of old hurts are as faded as those of recent highs. A palpable lull, easily interpreted as smooth sailing or the calm before the storm. My head is in a million places these days, unable to focus on anything specific, for better or worse. Work is in limbo as I await my one-year review, pretty sure it…
Return to the Nuyorican Poets Café
Hello Guy,
Here is your Free Daily Horoscope Service for today, Feb 17.
You might need to connect with Mother Earth, Guy. Lately, you’ve been feeling less than grounded. You might have the sensation that your mind is drifting somewhere above your body. If your work is mostly of the mental variety, and if you spend a lot of time on your computer, you might experience some feelings of disconnection from your body. Correct this by going for a long walk in a park, or sit by the ocean or other body of water.
Amen to that as I’ve been feeling totally disconnected for the past few days. Between the impending one-year anniversary on the job I no longer love but don’t quite hate, the weird night hosting at the Nuyorican, and the future homesteading question – I’m in a mild state of confusion.
Last week’s return to the Nuyorican Poets Café was significant, for me, for several reasons, not the least of which was that it was my first time on that stage since that fateful night in December 1998 that led to an ugly 1999 and me being banned for a couple of years beyond that. While I did read at Felice Belle’s farewell at the end of 2002, that felt very different as it was one quick poem and I’d been completely off the scene for a year at that point. Hosting Encomium was a much bigger deal – even bigger than I initially realized as my presence apparently had to be cleared through Carmen Pietri-Diaz, the Café’s Executive Director. If true, and I have no reason to believe it isn’t, I imagine it came about solely as a result of my co-hosting the Rev. Pedro Pietri benefit at the Bowery last month. It does present an interesting question, though: with Keith Roach long gone from the Café, and he and I having pretty much buried the hatchet, who’s still holding a grudge?
Just to get it out there so it's not an issue when I run for President somewhere down the road, I admit to being AWOL from the New Jersey National Guard quite frequently during my enlistment from 1993-1999. Of the 5-1/2 years I served, only two of them were counted as "good years," and that was probably more generous than I deserved. It wasn't always hangovers or laziness that kept me away, either. In particular, the drills I missed in 1997-98 were all poetry-related - I was hosting the Open Room and usually wouldn't get home before 4am, making the…