Still in place

Trying to maintain it all. Some days are easier than others. Hope you are all as well as you can be.

Writers Block has been holding online readings during the pandemic. I put a poem out there last night.

Here it is.

218 views in five years

From back in the day when I was writing. Writing well is another issue entirely. At least my mug is on youtube, for anyone to find, stumble across blindly, hate watch, or whatever.



Come on, let's get to 500 views by 2021! Four digits by 2030! We can do this internet!

Ten poems, thirty minutes

The Third Annual Writers' Block All Nighter fundraiser is happening until 3PM this afternoon at Kafe Kerouac. I read last night and stayed out much later than usual. It's very rare that I get an opportunity to feature, so I was excited to have the work even if there is very little new poetry in me these days. Still trying to process my Mom's death and dealing with poetic bureaucracy has me not liking nor confident of my own place in the art these days. That will change soon enough though.

Found some older work to spice up the more recent poems, and there was one new one which went over well in the nerd category. For posterity here is the set list.

Divorced, with special needs
Gaythiest
Lincoln Tower, the grassy knoll
318 feet from home plate
The Mother and the chapbook
Emaciated compassion
Kabuki condom
All time, none of the time
For British Chris
The wine list of the Overlook Hotel (brand new, uncorked for this reading)

Ended up staying until about 1:30 in the morning, had to stay for Death's set.



Death brought smoke and it was worth losing sleep over.

Now if there really was a Swear Jar millions would be made

I was on stage at Kafe Kerouac reading a poem. It had a few very naughty words in it. Mid-poem Rachel R. got up, came on stage, looked around and asked, "Where's the Swear Jar?"

Not quite sure what happened after that, but it threw me off. Lost the second page of the poem and was not happy about it. At all.

You know, I could picture her doing something like that. Heck, I could picture several people doing that.

There's your fund raising event. Swear Jar night at Writers' Block.

5-7-5 night

Last night was First Draft Poetry's Nuku Haiku Night. All Haiku. All new. Had a few written out that I was going to read, then I was asked to be in the Death Match so I had to write more.

Not very good with Haiku, and in a head to head best of five battle I was even worse as I lost 4-1. When you lose though, you want to be beaten by the best and I lost to Dan the Lawyer, who won the coveted crown. Always a fun night. Here's what I put together.


Submit your poems to
The Columbus Arts Festival
You have one week left

Thick hair on the soap
That we found in the bathtub
Is that yours, or mine?

Vladimir Putin
Half naked, killing a bear
Don’t molest children

The haiku battle
I look forward to the shit
Not cleaning it up

Delayed orgasm
Oh the waiting, the waiting
Like health care dot gov

Remember that time
We were all so pissed off at
Ani DiFranco?

What death really is
A totally accurate
Mayan calendar

Artisan condoms
Made from things around the house
Just like McGuyver

When Peyton Manning
yells Omaha, a Cleveland
Brown gets arrested

100 reasons
Why we’re dumbing down quickly
Buzzfeed can suck it

Your haiku is weak
Did you write it at your desk
The same way I did

I never win these
Three lines is so hard
Seventeen sylla-

Which castaway will
Die alone on the island?
Maryann? Ginger?

Every NFL
Player wants to see Denver
It’s reefer madness

There is a sex doll
That is made out of bacon
Hipster obsessions

An IPA beer
Whose spare gas fills bike tires
Hipster obsessions

I have lost enough
Of these to know for certain
I will lose again

Returning to old form

Next week the woman who hired me is retiring after 48 years with the library. Yesterday was the official University celebration of her service. Along with a few others, I was asked if I wanted to say something during the event. I happily accepted the invitation.

The 11th floor of the library was reserved for the event, which is a rather impressive space. A lot of people showed up, which showed the level of respect her colleagues have for her. I was scheduled next to last to speak. One gentleman spoke that after he was hired 24 years ago he found out he only got the job because someone turned it down. The same happened to me!

I babbled for a few moments then pulled out the poem I wrote for the occasion. She loved it. The crowd loved it. Sometimes when you read, and it's going well, you can feel as well as hear the room's reaction - this was one of those moments.

It was an honor to be a part of her celebration. Her experience and knowledge is unparalleled. Her patience and kindness will be greatly missed.

At Writers' Block last night I read a poem I have not read for awhile. A poem with some good energy and, as another newer poet to the night who had not heard the poem before put it, had some "rage."

"I love it when you have rage," He said. "It's righteous."

Been wondering what happened to the poet who wrote that poem four years ago, where he's been, and what I have to do to bring him back.

The Essence

Every week, he is the best poet on the mic. He is the best poet you heard yesterday, heard today, and will hear next week.

Rick.

A rare double post

Posting this while it's still fresher in my head so there are two blog posts from me today. Do not worry, this is not a fall back to the olde days of Live Journal.

Last night at Writers' Block there was a Grab Bag Slam, in which poets were assigned a topic and had a week to write a poem with it and perform it in a slam.

Thirteen poets accepted the challenge and read them last night. It was a very impressive display of writing. The topics read about were Dance, Moisturizer, Yogurt, Doo-rag and many others. Colin was the last poet in the slam and ended up winning the night with a brilliant poem. His subject was Kool-Aid. I'm glad he won because there were three poets tied for second and there would have been a Tri-ku to determine the champion.

My topic was Ice and I was happy with how it went. Because it was an assignment I'm going to post it here.


Staff Refrigerator: A Lesson in Fear

Pouring down onto containers of uncertain age
are colors not found in nature

Pooling on glass shelves are liquids of unknown origin -
a waterfall of chemical composition that may or may not be toxic

There was an email sent to the entire staff of the building

Desiccated solids that could have been lunch fluid in their intent
Sump ponds with stagnant moist stuff in tupperware that
may have been a meal containing mammal bones

There is a memo on the window of the staff break room

Behind the freezer door lay chunks of permafrost ice cube trays,
or are they italian ices from ancient Rome, buried deep

There is a piece of paper on the side of the refrigerator

Puddles of who knows what cryogenically ice floe alien in origin frisbees
or U.F.O., unidentified frozen objects that may have been taken
from the locker in hangar 13 of a top secret military installation.

There is a memo taped to the front of the refrigerator door

if this object was not placed in this building in 2009 -
We’d carbon date the contents, but they did set off a geiger counter
and no one in the Technical Services department has a Haz-Mat suit

If I were to brave the stench and look inside of the refrigerator
I’d bet five dollars there is a copy of the clean up your damn mess memo
hanging from one of the shelves.
But neither I, nor the bomb squad, are looking.


So there was that poem. But I also wrote another, a bit more serious.

Terra Nova Pantoum

I am just going outside and may be some time
the last words of an Antarctic explorer
He walked to his death in 1912
Their tent now buried by an ice shelf

The last words of an Antarctic explorer
We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us
Their tent now buried by an ice shelf
A tomb hidden by a century of climate

We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us
and therefore we have no cause for complaint
A tomb hidden by a century of climate
Becomes a heroic trophy for placing the South Pole discovery to Amundsen

and therefore we have no cause for complaint
Robert Scott’s final diary entry
Becomes a heroic trophy for placing the South Pole discovery to Amundsen
They found the pole, saw a Norwegian flag, died on the journey back

Robert Scott’s final diary entry
He walked to his death in 1912
They found the pole, saw a Norwegian flag, died on the journey back
I am just going outside and may be some time


Ever since I was a kid I had an odd interest in the doomed Scott expedition. The explorers of the Arctic had to endured some incredibly hostile conditions and some did not make it back. Brave men.

Hard to slam with a pantoum though, and I was not that confident!

So that was two poems written in a week, something that does not happen to me much these days.

I have ambitions, research is being done. Comfort zones are being tested.

My new twitter account will be named Sal F. Steam

Last night Writers Block had a Grand Slam with the winner going to the Individual World Poetry Slam in Spokane in October. I did not compete to defend my title, there was too much other stuff going on to get involved in slam this year.

Was very pleased to see my friend Gina Blaurock win the title. It was close, she beat Aaron Alsop by only .4. Five people slammed and all of them, including Bryant, Brad and Hayden brought their A-Games to the stage.

Gina also received The Uni.



That was one of the last pictures of The Uni before it met with another unfortunate accident. The less said about it the better.

Rachel McKibbons also did an excellent feature, which included a heartbreaking series of poems to honor her very young niece, who died of cancer last year.

Tonight I did a feature for Paging Columbus with two fine poets, Jonterri Gadson, and F. Daniel Rzicznek. A nicely attended event. Thanks to Hannah Stephenson for inviting me to perform at the Urban Arts Space.

For record keeping, here's my set.

Pantoum for a Child With Insomnia
David's Rock
Epson Projection: A Meeting in Three Acts
1) Mumble Jumbo
2) Settling in, Badly
3) No Hope for Parole
With Kryptonite as Prop
After Birth
The Real In-Flight Announcement

It was another fine night downtown. On the way to the venue, I walked through Columbus Commons and saw fellow poet Ethan Rivera fiddling around.



And on the way to The Jury Room for a libation, I noticed this building artwork.



It's one of those times you feel like you're settling into something, even though you're not one to watch.

You can learn a lot from an Albanian

Last night I was invited to take part in a performance workshop led by poet and performer Gypsee Yo. I was really looking forward to this because while I had only seen her perform three poems at The Women of the World Slam here a few years back, what I saw really impressed me.

The discussion was great, her abilities as a performer and teacher really came through during the workshop. Definitely learned a few things to enhance my performance on stage with or without being in a slam.

Later, she did a feature at Writers' Block and the audience was blown away. She has a story to tell, an amazing human one. It's a great gift she possesses, and one that she is more than willing to share. If you ever get a chance to see her perform, do not miss. I've seen some great features at Writers' Block over the past seven years, if I were to rank this is one of the top two - the other being Jack McCarthy.

Eleven Poems and Done

My feature to help raise funds for the Writers' Block Poetry Slam Team went well yesterday. I'm out of shape on stage as well as off. Tired quickly, did one poem less than I could have.

For record keeping purposes, here's the set list.

If You Can't Say it in Three Minutes, You're Doing it Wrong
What the Guide Dog Smelled
Local Character, Fredonia, New York
Refrigerator, Refrigerator
Children in Cells
David's Rock
They're Looking in the Wrong Place
Jesus at the Wheel (just written in the morning, at my son's swimming lesson)
318 Feet From Home Plate
For My Son on His Tenth Birthday
The Real In-flight Announcement

Busy week ahead as Arts Fest approaches. My son has a medical procedure being done on Wednesday morning so I'll try not to shove a cream pie in anyone's face that day.

Whirlwind of overwhelming

All of the busy, and the sleep deprivation caught up with me at a workshop this morning when a cluster headache decided to throw a party behind my right eye. Ouch. Left work early and slept a couple of hours. I do feel better.

Friday evening I will be a guest of Vernell Bristow on the internet radio show Speaking of Poetry. I'll be talking about all the great things that will be happening on the Word is Art Stage at the Columbus Arts Festival on June 7-9. You can listen live here.

Saturday afternoon I will be doing a half hour feature to raise money for the Writers' Block Poetry Slam team to head to Nationals in Boston this August. It's going to be at Kafe Kerouac form 1:30-2. There will be readings starting on Friday night at 8PM and going all night. You can see the schedule and other information here.

All this and it's not even June yet. More to come.

This week I got everyone's name right

There were nineteen poets on the open mic list at Writers' Block last night. My job was to get them all on stage and keep the audience engaged. There was also a slam. That's a lot of poetry to introduce. I've hosted three open mic/slams now and have to say it's been quite the education.

As emcee you give and receive a lot of energy from the activity around you and I've been on an adrenaline rush combined with complete exhaustion at the end of the night each time. My admiration for those who do host open mic nights week in and week out at venues not just in Columbus, but all over the country has increased greatly over the past month. It's hard work!

Emceeing was an experience I was hesitant to do, it's the fear of completely screwing up, having nothing to say that kept me away. Introducing seven hours of poets at Arts Fest last year chipped a good part of that wall down and when opportunity presented itself at Writers' Block this year, I asked Scott Woods and he said yes. I even hosted during two of the four weeks of Black History Month, thanks Scott.

Writers' Block has also had some amazing audiences recently. We're seating people on stage, the room is packed. None of this could be done without them, and Kafe Kerouac. The poetry has been great too. Cheers to all the poets and the Writers' Block crew who also make the night one of the best open mics in the city.

For me, it's back to being a happy groundling.

Your Typical Night at Writers' Block Poetry

But Jesus, what brave losers we are

Early this morning, Jack McCarthy died. I've written about him a few times, most notedly here. It's very sad, but not unexpected. His voice has been silenced, but his words and influence will remain. The subject header of this post is a line from one of Jack's poems. Rest in peace, Jack. And thank you.

Jack was a Haiku Master, winning the championship at IWPS in 2007. Tomorrow night I'll be taking part in a Haiku Death Match for Writers' Block First Draft. It's the Haiku Nuku January event. Starts at 8PM at Kafe Kerouac.

I have very little to say about Lance Armstrong, but can add a couple of pennies about the drama that is surrounding Mantei Te'o. It's very depressing when one goes to such a deep effort of creating a person online whose only purpose seem to be manipulative. A few years ago I was in a situation where Catfishing was created and people close to me were drawn into and manufacturing the craziness. It's not fun and potentially harmful. So if Te'o was sucked in and is a victim, he has my sympathy. However, I do think he was involved in the hoax based on his claims that he met the girl in person. It's a weird situation all around.

Poetry 2012, what I remembered

I doubt that I'm going to write anything close to Howl in the next week so here's a recap of 2012, from the poetic view.

Not sure how much original work of any quality I wrote. Work was done, most of it average at best. I did finish my first sestina, not saying it's decent but I completed one.

I was published a couple of times. Once online by New Verse News about the wedding of Kim Jong Un and in Night Ballet Press' - Buzzkill: Apocalypse - An End of the World Anthology. This was good news and showed some growth. More hard work is needed though.

The film Street Poet was so horrible we gathered and took the piss out of it one afternoon at the library. It inspired my poem, Kabuki Condom, that helped me win only my second poetry slam.

A more memorable gathering of poets occurred in March on the steps of the Main Library as we celebrated a Great Day in Columbus as the snow smacked us all in the face.

I made three appearances on the show Speaking of Poetry this year talking about autism, IWPS and phoning in to give Izetta a goodbye Haiku.

Writers' Block brought on the usual shenanigans and coy racism along with new regular Erik the Viking, his height, his Mormonism and wind sex. It was also awesome to see Aaron appear in his first Grand Slam.

One of the big surprises for me was winning my second IWPS title and representing Writers Block in Fayetteville. I was a bit nervous and not as pumped as I could have been but being in the coolness of Fayetteville rejuvenated my enthusiasm. That and I was 28th after the first night! Ended up falling into 45th out of 67 but I had an absolute blast. So happy to have this experience under my belt.

The other big surprise was getting involved with the Columbus Arts Festival as a volunteer. Working with such a great group of people was inspiring. Then I was asked to be the Chair of the Poetry Committee for 2013. I'm humbled Scott Huntley and Shana Scott have so much trust in me. A good group of people are on the committee and I'm excited to be working with them. And hey poets you can apply to appear on stage right here!

Been a heck of a year, looking forward to Arts Fest and what the rest will bring.

In closing I urge you to give a listen to this. Jack McCarthy on IndieFeed.

A Stand Up Man

Jack McCarthy is one of the best American voices out there. He's been in the public eye since he started reading in Boston twenty years ago, when he was in his mid fifties.

Since then Jack has been a part of the Poetry Slam community on two coasts and has published books and cds. All of them to nothing but positive acclaim.

He came to Writers' Block in 2007 and his tone and demeanor switched a light on in me, one that blinked that a poem does not have to be shouted to have impact and power. Since then I've lost sight of that light more than a few times but Jack's work has resonated in my head ever since.

I've posted this poem before, but it deserves another view.



Jack's website, gives you plenty of information about him, and includes some of his poems and videos.

Jack's health has been fading, but he's still able to attend an occasional reading. Susan Dobbe Chase recently conducted a bittersweet interview with him by phone that you can listen to here.

I'm glad I got to see him once, but sad that the opportunity will most likely not happen again.

That other song by the Deutschendorf fellow

Now that I've found a kicker for my fantasy football team, I can go.

I leave for Fayetteville, Arkansas in a couple of hours to represent Writers' Block Poetry in the Individual World Poetry Slam. As ready as I'm going to get.

Unlike Berkeley in 2009, I have a better idea of what to expect. I plan to socialize a little more, which is very hard for me to do and I want to finish a bit further from last place this time. Fair enough goals?

Will try to update as much as I can. We'll see how the hotel wifi is. I'm guessing Facebook and Twitter updates will occur too. It's a college town, of course there's wifi!

I want to thank everyone at Writers' Block for their support as well as those who have contributed to my trip. I really want to thank my wife the most. She'll be watching my son for a couple of nights and has a project of her own that she's going to be working on while I'm out of the house.

Now, to get the kid on the school bus.

Ego boost after fighting traffic

I was on internet radio last night with Ethan Rivera to talk about our coming trip to IWPS. Just before the show started, Vernell took this picture of me with her phone. I gave a panicked smile.



When I looked at it later, I was surprised. It does not suck. I hate pictures of myself more than my poetry but this one does not make me squirm.

It's as if I had stayed in radio and this was my head shot for the afternoon drive show. I like the little halo of light over my left shoulder. Yes, it swells my skull a bit so the headphones have to be adjusted. Thanks again Vernell!

Speaking of IWPS, thank you all so much for your support. The hotel room is more or less paid for now. All I have to do is get on the stage now and I can't wait! Departure for Fayetteville is Wednesday.

Hardware in the house

The attempt at balance begins. Inquiries have begun in getting people and programming together for the Arts Festival. Timelines are being sketched out. The ignition has been turned on. My responsibilities for a committee at work are lurching ahead. It's hard for me to reach out to complete strangers, even when I'm seeking the tiniest of information or a modest but painless commitment of time. Comfort zones are being breached.

Very little has been done in preparation for IWPS, I have no clue what to read, that will change. I have booked the hotel room and will get plane tickets this weekend.

A number of people have asked if there will be a way to donate for my trip. The answer is yes, and a paypal link will be posted soon. There will also be added value. Details are on the way.

Last night at Writers' Block, Vernell Bristow the reigning IWPS Champion passed on the IWPS trophy. She read a lovely haiku during the ceremony.



It's called The Uni and I bought the item toward the end of my year as IWPS champion in 2009. I thought there should be some tradition passed on, and a green jacket had the one size fits all problem. Thus, after some be-dazzling by Veronica Sawyer, The Uni was born.

I'm exciting and proud to have The Uni in the house for a year.