Monday, July 18, 2011

Presenting Howard Smith

Howard Smith will be featured reader at the
Artist's Union Gallery tomorrow, Tuesday July 18, 2011.
Here is a sample poem from Howard's pen:

Debating
I was debating with the wall, which was
dead-on maddening, when it talked back
and won.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Boredom


It’s a high crime night tonight
The moon is frozen still
Boredom was on, it had killed everything around me
While sleepers had beautiful dreams
Boredom weaved through me
It didn’t speak
It demanded nothing from me
Wherever I went it was there
I threatened it and all it did was grin
I took it for long walks in the moonlight
It dragged it’s ass
It stood absolutely still with it’s ears cocked
His feet planted firm
It’s eyes blinked
And every thought in my head disappeared.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Ladies and Gentleman: Suzanne Frost

Suzanne Frost will be featured tomorrow at the Artist's
Union Gallery on Tuesday July fifth 2011.
Here's a poem or two by Ms. Frost:

The pull to go,
to retreat, not to fight or stay―

Arjuna's war, what is too much, too far
to serve?
Can I lift these limbs 
to the peak of this moment,
see pastmy confusion:am I clear of avoidance, fear, 

and the deceit of memory? 


Watching myself and the crowd drink our sorrows
as moments pass―at least we're watching.

More on Ken


Another poem by Ken Wienchus

Hope for the Future (published in Askew)

E.T came by last night
Home he said pointing up toward the ceiling
I picked him up, tucked him under my arm
and walked up the stairs to the attic,
I opened the door, threw him in, slam the door shut,
and locked it not hearing any signs of protest
I went downstairs and turned on the TV
and watched a rerun of All in the Family.

http://youtubekenwienchus

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Presenting Don Fisher Campbell



Don Kingfisher Campbell first came to my
attention when he was guest poet last year
at Tuesday Night Poetry at The Artist's
Union Gallery in Ventura. Don is listed
on Poets & Writers, is the founder of
POETRY people youth writing workshops;
publisher of the San Gabriel Valley
Poetry Quarterly; leader of the Emerging
Urban Poets writing and Deep Critique
workshops; and host of the Saturday
Afternoon Poetry reading series in
Pasadena, California. Mr. Campbell has
taught Creative Writing in the Upward Bound
program at Occidental College and been a Guest
Teacher for the Los Angeles Unified School
District for 26 years.
Here is Don on Youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__Iv24G89KU


Sunday, June 26, 2011

Presenting John M. White





















John White is a painter, sculptor and performance

artist. He has been exhibiting publically for almost

40 years. Culturally, politically and aesthetically

influenced by the late 60’s, White’s work exemplifies

this period of redefinition and experimentation.



Throughout his career, he has focused on three

major areas of work: performance
art, site-specific installations and drawing and painting.
Although always interdisciplinary , his work is primarily
autobiographical in nature and always includes


some element of humor. Considered one of the seminal

California performance artists, White has staged

hundreds of public performances since 1967, and

is included in numerous public museum collections,

including Los Angeles County
Museum of Art, Guggenheim Museum in New York,
La Foret Museum in Tokyo, Total Museum in Korea,
Seattle Museum, Palm Springs Desert Museum,
St. Louis Museum, Oakland Museum and others.
He is the recipient of three National Endowment for
the Arts grants and has served as a panelist twice.
He was awarded the New Talent Award from
LACMA in 1971, CETA Grant in 1979 and Djerassi
Fellowship in 1989. Since unofficially retiring from
performance art in 1989 (there have been two


exceptions "Annotated Lipschitz ," 1991 at the

Los Angeles Music Center and "Circa" 1999 at the

Armory Center in Pasadena) he has focused on

installation and painting. Qualified historians

may request access to the Smithsonian Institute
Archives which has acquired White’s early sketches


and notes.








Saturday, June 25, 2011

Voices from the past: Roni*




Roni, a one time active member of the Tuesday
Night Poets writes poetry and enjoys other
people's poetry, too. See her poem below.
Roni*s formal training includes a BA in Italian
(University of California Santa Barbara, 1989),
a Masters degree in Speech Communication
California State University Northridge, 1993),
a Laughter Yoga Leader Certificate (with Dr.
Kataria, 2006) and a Laughter Yoga Teacher
Certificate (with Dr. Kataria, 2007). Roni*
presently teaches Hasya (Laughter) Yoga,*
Hatha (asana practice) Yoga,* and Conversational
Italian (as a private tutor).

Now here's a poem from Roni that I promised
entitled Electric Rain:


Hot, stillborn air, flashes of light slicing the
sky leave bright etchings scratched on my mind.
Waiting breathlessly for the next display, my eyes

beg for morefrom the dark heavy clouds.
"Bring me Enlightenment!" I plead.
"Come set my bones on fire;Electric Rain,

ignite my soul."
Not hiding under the eves of tomorrow,

I lay my body down in the grassy field,
wet and waiting to be struckby white flashes of passion.
Kill me.
But let me die living well.




Roni is on the radio, here's a link:


Thursday, June 23, 2011

Presenting Jeff Kaiser



Jeff Kaiser is a trumpet player,
composer, conductor, and music technologist
living in La Jolla, California.
While maintaining an active professional career,
Jeff is also a music PhD student in Integrative
Studies at the University of California,
San Diego. Focusing on improvisation and
emergent technology, Jeff has a primary
specialty of critical studies and secondary
of ethnomusicology. Jeff also holds a Bachelor's
Degree in Music Composition from Westmont College
and a Master of Music in Choral and Orchestral
Conducting from Azusa Pacific University.
Jeff has played professionally with many different
groups and individuals on television, film,
radio, and in concert halls throughout the
United States and abroad. Jeff will be performing
Saturday, June 25 2011 at Zooey's Cafe from 7:30 pm to
9:30 pm. You can keep up with Jeff through his
own personal blog http://jeffkaiser.blogspot.com/

Presenting Florence Weinberger

Florence Weinberger is reading at the Artist's Union Gallery
Saturday, June 25 2011. The reading will be hosted by
Friday Lubina.

Florence Weinberger was born in 1932 in

New York City and raised in the Bronx.
Yiddish was her first language and writing
always her first passion. While working full
time for the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company
she tunneled her way through from the subway to
Hunter College, graduating with a BA in
English in 1956. She taught 3rd grade for one year
in Queens and liberated herself from its tyranny by
becoming pregnant and a stay-at-home mom. She moved
to California in 1959 with her husband and first child.
She returned to writing in the early 60's, taking
workshops with such teachers as Ann Stanford,
Ben Saltman, Jack Grapes, Peter Levitt and Kate
Braverman, entering and winning some contests and
producing two unpublished novels. Her first two poetry books,
The Invisible Telling Its Shape and Breathing Like a Jew,
appeared in 1997. Her latest book, Carnal Fragrance,
was published by Red Hen Press in fall of 2004.

You Dream About Eating An Egg

No one loved eggs the way you did.Ate your
way through dozens, soft-boiled and scrambled.
Taught your granddaughter how to spoon them out
of the shell.Ate them pure without salt or butter
or ham.Without guilt.Careful not to lose a drop
That's why your dream about the yolk spilling
out when you bit into the hot golden center of
the eggscared me to death.

Voices from the past: Scott Struman



Scott Struman is a college-educated dishwasher.
He has been a member of Joan Raymund’s poetry
workshop in Ojai for several years, and has
had poems published in Rivertalk, The Northridge
Review, ARTLIFE, Poetry Motel, The Santa Barbara
Independent, and Many Mountains Moving.

Here is a poem from Scott entitled Judgement
Day:

Christmas eve party.
Family gathering adjourns
to the ice cream store
with Mom and Dad.

Also cousin Steve, twice my age.
Brags to me about sleeping
with his girlfriend.
Too loudly I ask him
"Do you see her naked?"

Customers at Baskin-Robbins
castrate me with their glares.
Ice cream store owner
demands my departure
from a childhood paradise.

Not an ounce of sympathy
shows on faces of the jury.
My irate mom calls me
"a filthy dirty animal."
Dad snaps his whipping belt.






Here is Scott reading his



poem The Joy of checks on youtube:



Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Presenting Starr Wilson

Starr Wilson is a poet and musician. She has
been a part of the Tuesday Night poets for
several years. Here is a poem from Starr's
pen:

In the brilliant Belgian sun, Van Gogh
works feverishly, splashing paint on canvas
with reckless abandon, trying to capture the
crows before the murder finds a new meal.
As suddenly as sunrise, darkness descends
and he finds himself looking skyward.
By the light of the moon, he paints through
the starry night until the cold drives him
home from the fields.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Presenting Barry Spacks

Barry Spacks, the first Poet Laureate of Santa Barbara, Californa
will be a featured poet along with Chyrss Yost on Tuesday,
July 12, 2011.

Mr. Spacks has nine poetry collections. N.E.A librettist grantee;
many poetry readings; poems in 18 anthologies and a multitude
of journals, print and cyber; two novels, stories, essays, reviews.
For poems and novels: St. Botolph's Arts Award, Boston.
Singer-songwriter, actor; Literature professor, M.I.T. (1960-1981);
persistently Visiting Professor, U.C. Santa Barbara (Distinguished
Professor in Humanities & Fine Arts, 1991). Senior Vajrayana
(Tibetan Buddhism) student of H.E. Chagdud Tulku Rinpoche.
Two CDs , A Private Reading, from WC Studios, contains 42 poems
(plus chat) from 50 years of work and Selected Poems from Regarding
Women.

Here is a poem of Mr. Spacks entitled What Breathes Us:

Regards to the day,
the great long day that can't be hoarded,
good or ill.
What breathes us
likely means us well.
We rise up from an earthly root to seek
the blossom of the heart.What breathes
us likely means us well.
We are a voice impelled to tell
where the joining of sound and silence is.
We are the tides, and their witnesses.
What breathes us likely means us well.

More on Doris

Doris Vernon may very well be the most generous
poet I know. I am among the scores of poets she's
welcomed into the fold - before we even knew what
we were getting into. She knew. Thank you Doris.
You are loved.



PATHOLOGY OF LOVE

When he comes in sight
Your heart breaks its tether
And gallops across the landscape
Of your emotions
This isn’t love it is tachycardia
With arrhythmia
The disorder responds to digitalis.
You see shooting stars
Your head feels swimmy
When you think of him
It is not love
But classic signs of anemia
Try time-release iron tablets.
He comes to your side
You are giddy with happiness
He leaves you you are lethargic
With depression.
You are not experiencing love
It is bi-polar mood disorder
Ask your physician about lithium
It helps.
If your symptoms become acute
And your doctor is unavailable
Retreat to your bedroom
Lie quietly with a cold cloth
On your forehead.
When your heart calms itself
When all the stars have
Shot out of your heaven
Rise slowly
And resume normal activities.
Pray that no red roses
Have been delivered
To your doorstep
Or you shall surely
Experience a relapse.

Presenting Dorothea Grossman













Dortothea Grossman has been featured

at the Tuesday Night Poets at the Artist

Union Gallery too many times to count.

We always look forward to her visits

and her wonderful poems accompanied

by her friend musician Michael Vlatovitch.

Dorothea Grossman’s 2003 CD, Call And

Response features the poet in

live performance with improvising trombonist

Michael Vlatkovich.



Here is a sample of her work:



It occurs to me that,


when I die, they might


find the necklace I dropped


behind the bed and wonder


how long it was there, and


whether I'd missed it. But


will they care about my favorite


color, my long-range plans,


or my habit of searching myself


for signs of rust?

Askew is out!

Askew#10 poets featured in this issue are:

Cathryn Andresen,
Boghos L. Artinian,
Devreaux Baker,
Beth Bernstein,
Mary Rose Betten,
Chris Buckley,
Michael Ceraso,
Sharon Chmielarz,
Kevin Clark,
Richard Cody,
Ellen Cohen,
Wanda Coleman,
James Cushing,
Carol DeCanio,
I. W. Grant,
Paul Hellweg,
Cameron Hindrum,
Jason L. Huskey,
Charlotte Innes,
Ron Kostar,
Gabrielle LeMay,
Joyce LaMers,
Lyn Lifshin,
Joyce Lombard,
Glenna Luschei,
Kathleen Lynch,
Maia,
Virginia Mariposa,
Enid Osborn,
Judith Pacht,
Candace Pearson,
Robert Penick,
Leigh Phillips,
Holly Prado,
Mica Ray,
Herbert Reich,
John Repp,
Philip Todd,
Amy Uyematsu,
Florence Weinberger,
Maggie Westland,
Jackson Wheeler,
Daryl Willis,
Paul Willis,
Sheri L. Wright,
Gail Wronsky,
Pamela Wynn,
Jake Young,
Michael T. Young,
Mariano Zaro ,
and Jim Zola.

Presenting Eunice Kingsley






Eunice Kingsley is a performance artist

and a musician, as well as a lover of

human beings,art, poetry, and cats.


Especially cats.


Eunice has been a fixture of the Tuesday


Night Poets since 1993 when she came to


California from Long Island with her


husband, Neal. Eunice is a former librarian.


Her monologues explore the range of love,


animals, her marriage, and family.


You can find Eunice at the Artist's


Union Gallery on most Tuesday Nights


partaking one of Doris' homemade cookies


and reading her work. Eunice currently


lives in the Venturan Townhouse. She is


very happy. Here is a few of Eunice's monologues:




What I know




She sat talking with her mother

Mia said, "What I know is Dad needs to show

more love for me and Jake. All he does is

pretend to listen when we talk to him."

Mother bite her lip, "I will talk to Dad.

He's shy and over-worked at his job

But you are right."

When he came home she rubbed his neck

and held his hand and said, "Your boy

and girl love you and hope you listen

more than they tell you things."

Dad blushed and looked at her and said:

"Did they ask you to tell me that?"

"Yes" She said, "But I agree with them.

If you could manage 20% more interest

in them."

He put his arm around his wife and said:

"I know I need to do that. Tell them."

The children came in and Dad

got up and gave a hug to each

which thrilled and surprised them.




Stormy and Calm



As a small girl she watched the sky

change from calm and blue to gray

and rainy: in a stormy mood.

On the porch in town she asked her

brother "What made the storm?"

He replied "The weather isn't

just calm." She ran to ask her

sister "Is God angry when we

have a storm?" Her sister patted

her back and said "Nature and

people need water too." The

father said to his wife "Leah

asked a good question, didn't

she?" The rain poured down,

then the sun came while it

rained, which cheered Leah.

She smiled up at the sun.

Presenting Gauvin

Gauvin showed up in Ventura in 1998 and
became known right away as a spoken word
and performance artist. The line blurs here
and gauvin makes no claim to performance art
in its polished form. In the last decade,
gauvin has performed at Art City, Zoey’s Cafe,
Cafe Voltaire, Natalie’s Fine Threads,
Ventura Bookstore, Spork Orbit, the Art Gulag,
Plexus Dance Studio and Ventura College, to
name a few venues. Being edgy in a nascent art
scene, gauvin delivered many performances
including “Crime of Passion” and “He Wouldn’t
Kiss Me.” You can see him perform these days
at The Artist's Union Gallery on an occasional
Tuesday night when he decides to wonder in
and grace us with his presence.

Presenting Phil Taggart



Phil Taggart is our beloved leader of the Tuesday Night Poets.

He is poetry curator at the Artists Union Gallery in Ventura and from 1991 through the present, started and ran several poetry readings in Ventura, Santa Barbara and Camarillo, including: Ventura: The Insomniac, Nicholby's, Cafe Voltaire, The Daily Grind, The Art Gulag at the Plaza Players Theater, Art City 2 and co-directed The Ventura Poetry Festival. Santa Barbara: The

Green Dragon, The Perch Gallery and the Santa Barbara Poetry Series at the Contemporary Arts Forum. He's producing and compiling poets reading on video through the ASKEW video/poetry project and was editor of ARTLIFE

from 1996 to 2005.Publishing credits include: SOLO, Brick, rivertalk, Sirens Silence, ZamBomba, sicviceverse, San Gabriel Valley Quarterly, F.T.S., Lummox Journal,

Voce Piena, So Luminous the Wildflowers and on a t-shirt for Café Voltaire.

His book of poetry, Opium Wars, was published by Mille Grazie Press.

Here is a few of his poems:

for Kathleen

It is your birthday dear sister

today the labor of you began our mother

crazy Norwalk crazy she divines a miracle

and somehow islost in its darkeninglens

the chafe separates and the grain is

luminanta pearl is irritatedand arrives in

flannelwith red stars set deep in denim you madness

and deathhas taken our siblings the shame a codex that

weaves around us binding what amess you a mania quirky

quick brilliant and driven a flurry a Darwinian resolverooted

in a dinnerparty and a consciousnessarriving just in time we

are familyand scarred and standing on feetthat hurt and

losecirculation we buzzoutside and hurryalong busy and regretfuland

half a state awaywe gray we remember I think ofyou today and

most days happy that you are and we are.



If You Lived Here


it's Easter ina city of angels
detached angels transient angelsdancing on pins forgetful
prostrate to the ephemeralwith nails gripping earth
it's all possible here
a state of culture a dreambuilds monuments in ether
does anyone really live here?
a sign off the 101in Hollywood says,
if you lived hereyou'd be homeless






Monday, June 20, 2011

Presenting Gwendolyn Alley




Gwendolyn Alley is a fourth generation Venturan,


she wrote her first books, stories, and poems at Mound Elementary. Gwendolyn attended a multitude of colleges before graduating with degrees in Environmental Studies & Literature/Creative Writing from UC Santa Cruz. Gwendolyn's current projects include a collection of her poems from the 315 experiment titled “Love and Terror at 315am,” an anthology of 315 poetry with other 315 poets.




Here is a link to her blog The Art Preditor:http://artpredator.wordpress.com/about/


Here is a link of a poem Gwendolyn wrote entitled Celebration

that was published in ART/LIFE:













Chryss Yost is coming!

Chryss Yost will be featured at the Artist's Union Gallery
along with Barry Spacks (more on Mr. Spacks later) on
July 12, 2011. Here are two of Chryss Yost poems to read:

Lai with Sounds of Skin
Shall we dress in skin,our living linen?
Bone weft, pull of masculine into feminine,
the heft,the warp, weave and spin of carded days
in tightly-twisted thinyarns that we begin—like
wool like will, like has been,spoken to silken—to spool:
thick bolts of linen,skein to skin to skin.

Escaping from Autopia
but even leaving, longing to be back, to do again what
I did yesterday—I, Miss Highway, I couldn’t drive off track
or crash. I joined the candy-coated pack to follow yellow lines
and concrete, graybut even. Leaving. Longing to be back
beyond those lines, in other lines. Like smack these flashback
rides, E-ticket crack: You payyou have to stay. I couldn’t drive
off track, or spin to face my enemies’ attack.The road signs told
me “NOW LEAVING L.A.”but even leaving, longing to be back
to go again. I knew I had a knackfor getting there and going.
Child’s play, and anyway, I couldn’t drive off track, once
safety-strapped onto that strip of black. I couldn’t lose or
get lost on the way,but even leaving, longing to be back and
be okay. I couldn’t drive off track.

Presenting Chryss Yost

Chryss Yost is an award-winning and Pushcart Prize nominated poet.
Her poems have been included in the most popular poetry textbooks in the country
and widely anthologized elsewhere.
Her poems have appeared in The Hudson Review, Quarterly West and Solo,as well as other national and international publications.As an editor, Chryss has edited two influential collections. California Poetry and From the Gold Rush to the Present. She also edited with Dana Gioia and Jack Hicks. Chryss was the first major over viewer of the subject. Poetry Daily, A Year of Poems for the World's Most Popular Poetry Website. Chryss edited with Poetry Daily ,founders, Dianne Boller and Don Selby.
Chryss was responsible for a groundbreaking project which confirmedthe growing influence of online poetry.A California Poet in the Schools, Chryss is also a founding faculty member of the Santa Barbara Writers' Conference, Poetry Conference and the Teaching Poetry Conference in Sonoma.
Chryss teaches regularly at the Granada's Music & Arts Conservatory.Here is Chryss Yost in an interview with David Starkey:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wadAqoHyido

Presenting John Gentry






John Gentry is a Tuesday night regular since 1998. He is what is known as a

rhyming poet. His themes vary from things from the past, cowboy and crime, and humor. Here is a poem from Mr. Gentry entitled Cowboy Movies:



I was a cowboy movie kid In nineteen fifty-one.The movie house was a darkened school Where I learned how the west was won.Tuition was only fifty cents, And a popcorn lunch was a dime.I watched every lecture from reel to reel And gave no thought to the time.There weren't any bells and no homework, And nobody made you stay.My teachers were Hop-A-Long, Roy and Gene At the Saturday Matinee.They taught me the ways of the mountain men, The beaver and the wagon trains,And the cruel barbed wire, the John Deere Plow, And the buffalo on the plains.I heard the bugles at the Little Big Horn Where the arrows and the bullets flew;The tribal tongues I understood-- The Commanche, the Crow and the Sioux.The gunplay in the streets I saw, Where the roar of a forty-fourA hair's breadth quicker than someone else Would settle a personal score.The Homestead Act, the range wars, The pioneer endeavor;I heard the words of great Chief Joseph: "I will fight no more for ever."Of books on the West, I hardly read any, 'Cause most of what I know,I learned in the dark at the Roxy Theater In Lewiston, Idaho.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Radio Land



The Spring 2011 SAN GABRIEL VALLEY POETRY QUARTERLY

is out. And I am one lucky fella to have a poem featured in it along

with 50 other poets. Below is my poem that is in the new issue of

the San Gabriel Quarterly:

RADIO LAND


It was a slow and quiet Saturday night
I listened to the radio for a time
When I climbed into bed I realized I left it on
I was too tired, in need of sleep
So I closed my eyes
Night swallowed me whole
the house sailed west on a wave of dreams
When I woke up
I felt a kinship to the voices
After that night, I slept with the Radio,
talked to the radio,
Disagreed with the radio
I believed in a far-a-way Radio land that I would never
find, doomed to only prowl the air waves forever, ever seeking
some magic channel
For now I would have to settle for just listening.

Presenting Roe Estep











Roe Estep was a longtime poet of Tuesday Night poetry group. Roe has been writing

for the past 30 yrs. She is self-employed and own my own business. Roe lives in southern Calf. and was born and raised on the east coast. Her range of writing varies, but leans toward love poems. Here is a poem of Roe Estep's entitled Reflections:
Shimmering pools in the moonlight

Your mirror images portray
Life like forms
That dance across your splendor
A vision unfolds
As the ripples move

Presenting Doris Vernon



Doris Vernon, maker of homemade cookies, poet, grandmother, and Camarillo resident will
turn 88 this year. Doris has been a Tuesday Night poet for as long as I can remember.
Her poems are memorable and quick to the mind and heart.

Here is Doris performing at the Artist's Union Gallery some years ago reading her poem
Pathology of Love: http://www.myspace.com/video/askew-poetry-journal/doris-c-vernon-pathology-of-love/39225170

ASKEW

ASKEW published by Phil Taggart and Masha Dela O
has recently released a new edition.
Here's the link to the on-line site: Askew Poetry Journal

The Conversation




Why can’t we talk? I asked my father last night
Is it because you refuse to,
and I think you are a foreign language
I can not understand
Is it because I hate your heavy sighs,
And you can’t take the curl of my
lip on the receiver
I said in revolt,
Fathers and sons are suppose to have conversations,
Why can’t we have one?
He said, fathers and sons are not supposed to have
conversations, they're supposed to understand
each other, look at each other, smile and walk along railroad tracks and throw rocks in the water. But we never did those things,
does that mean we have nothing to say?
My first memory of him was holding me
up to the light that poured through the window.

Presenting Suzanne Frost






Suzanne Frost will be featured at the Artist's Union Gallery June 28, 2011. Suzanne Frost studied at Scripps College in Claremont and UCLA in English literature as an undergraduate before receiving her BA in English and Philosophy and MA degree in Creative Writing from the University of New Mexico. She published three chapbooks, and in New Mexico served on the board of directors of the Taos Poetry Circus and other organizations. Currently, she produces the Poetry Zone monthly reading series at the Karpeles Manuscript Library in Santa Barbara, and was the co-creator and editor & publisher of Sage Trail Poetry Magazine.




Here is a poem of Suzanne Frost's entitled A Political Poem:




“Maybe she enjoyed it,” That’s what he saidwhen we asked him if he’d heard about the woman who’d been rapedlast Friday. “Maybe she enjoyed it,” he said,pointing his empty camera at his crotch. Too bad he wants to be a photographer.

Presenting Ken Wienchus


Ken Wienchus is a Tuesday night regular.
He is a poet as well as a painter.


Portrait of a Rebel

I’M TIRED OF ALL THE BULLSHIT.
I TURNED OFF THE TV.
I STOPPED READING NEWSPAPERS.
NOW, I LISTEN TO OTHERS
REGURGITATE MEDIA SPIN,
IT’S INVENTED REALITY;
LIKE A MAGICAL HYPNOTIST
SUGGESTING OUR LIVES FOR US.
-- AND WE LISTEN,
AND DON’T EVEN KNOW
WE ARE BEING LED BY THE NOSE;
LIKE A GIANT BULL PULLED BY A MONKEY
THROUGH THE PASTURES OF TIME.
“WHEN YOU GOT THEM BY THE BALLS
THEIR HEARTS AND MINDS WILL FOLLOW,” SAID A PARTICULARLY VICIOUS NIXON AIDE. -- AND HE WAS RIGHT, EXCEPT IT’S NOT BY OUR BALLS
THAT THEY GOT US -- IT’S BY OUR MINDS.


Clarence Clemons 1942-2011




"I do read music, but I prefer playing from the heart"
-- Clarence Clemons


Clarence Clemons passed away today at the age of 69.
Here is his obituary published in Rolling Stone magazine.
http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/e-street-bands-clarence-clemons-dies-at-69-20110618



Here Clarence performs on David Letterman http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i5xhgWqiJiE&playnext=1&list=PLA1CB5E9F5D5E23CF

Presenting Eric Lawson





Eric Lawson is the author of

two chapbooks of poetry; Lady, Control Your Cats and Now With More Ewoks. He has written two comedic collections Jackassery as well as Medusa Coils: 20 Twsited Monologues. His work has appeared in the Don't Blame the Ugly Mug anthology (Tebot Bach), Falling Star Magazine, The Houston Literary Review, Word Catalyst, Maintenant, Dash Literary Journal, and Poetic Diversity. Here's a sample of Eric Lawson's poetry: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AE0Acy5pWNE

Tuesday at the Artist's Union Gallery




John Gentry will be featured at the Artist's Union Gallery Tuesday, June 21 2011.

Here's a sample of his poetry:


Cowboy Slam
Well, I rode through the west just to have a look For myself at a cowboy's lifeOn the open range where the wind blows free And the lonesome trail is rifeWith the perils of the desert sun by day And rovin' wolves by night,In wild harm's way of the hoof and the horn And the quick sidewinder's bite.And I watched him rise at the streak of dawn And blaze a small campfireFor bacon and beans and a black joe pot Hangin' by a twist o' wire.A little white smoke rose up in the air From the cowchip fire he'd made,And he saddled a pony with a stockin' foot As the dawn began to fade.Then double-checkin' the cinch and the reins, He swung up on that bay,And twelve hard mile he'd ride, or more Before the end of day.And I wrote down all I larned on a pad Of a cowboy's life out west--From his wrangler ways to the ring of his spurs And the leather fringe on his vest.Then I worked for a week on yarns and rhymes, Which I finished one afternoon,And brought 'em down to the Cowboy Slam At the Buckaroo Saloon.But I wondered some if the real cowboys Would cotten to my prose,Or my cowboy poems and stories when I Weren't wearin' any cowboy clothes.But up I went in my city duds When they called my name at last,And I spun 'em a yarn of the trail in rhyme Of old cowboys from the past.And as they twirled their mustachios They listened with squinted eyes,Then roped, hog-tied and branded me And told me I'd won first prize.

John Gentry is a retired school teacher who lives in Ventura, California.

Here's John on Youtube
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLjUJe2yxTs








And now, on with the opera. Let joy be unconfined. Let there be dancing in the streets, drinking in the saloons, and necking in the parlor!




I keep praying for a double

bill of Singing in the Rain

and A Night at the Opera.

Presenting Gabrielle Le May


I was at a wonderful poetry reading at the Carnegie museum in Oxnard yesterday. The feature poet was Gabrielle Le May.
Here is a poem by Ms. Le May:

OWL
To fly into a rage
is to fly...
I am trapped in a corner
of a small, dim room,
glaring at the woman I hate. She hurls
insults you stupid threats you'll never
barbs slut so fast I can't move I can't breathe I can't
stand it anymore--I let out a sharp screech
stretch out my rigid arms then clap them down to my sides
as hard as I can. I feel my eyes expand... grow round...
my trembling lips harden to a deep gash of beak--I
snarl hoot shriek
jerk my arms down with broadening palms
to propel myself up off my feet-
and now I am hovering...
upper back arched toward a corner of the ceiling;
wing-feathers slapping at faded, chipped paint;
bone-sharp talons strained-apart, reaching--
my rounded back clenched like a fist against the ceilin
Ecstatic, I squawk and flap at my prey
as she shrinks to toysize beneath me--
then sinks like a stain into the floor...
... Bluish light leaks through thin bamboo blinds
and oozes through the room, pooling
at the corners of my eyelids.
I am curled on my side, inert,
on a rumpled sheet, my round left hip
embedded like a jewel in the mattress,
my head too heavy to lift--
my eyelids frozen open,
my thundering heart aching with the need
to know adreal sky...
(I must get back up there
I can fly back up there
if I can just push back down
into sleep, lovely sleep--
God willing.)
But this time, please God:
Let there be no ceiling.

Ms. Le May has been published in ASKeW, Big City Lit,
Blue Mesa Review, Confrontation, Poems & Plays, Poetry East,
Poetry London, Rattapallax, River Oak Review, and The Ledge.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Gauvin at Westside Art Walk



Warren Gauvin, Ventura's own Basquiat will be featured at the Westside ArtWalk Saturday, July 23 from 1 -9 p.m. through Sunday,

July 24 from 12-5 p.m.

You can check out an interview of Gauvin by

Creature of Rooms




Creature Of Rooms

the windows are open
And the sun is out
a warm breeze drifts through
the house but it grows dark too soon
For my comfort
I go to sleep in one room
And awake in another
I dream of holy places
Where there are no rooms
I go to the window often
Night and summer cry out for me
It’s voice is water open beneath stars.