Author Archives: Tony Brown

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details.

Still

I’m not sure how I used to stop the world,
but there were times when everything
slowed and each of my moves was perfect,
no wasted effort,
arms synched perfectly swinging
as I turned toward the yard
away from the screen door closing behind me,
and then I discovered that my vision
had sharpened at the edges
and deepened at the center of the field of view
so that a jonquil stood out dead still from the lawn, its petals
honed against the green behind it so it seemed
cut from life and yellow as piss, as sunshine,
and no stigma came with either definition of that glow —
there was a time I could stop the world
but I didn’t understand how useful that could be,
so I have forgotten how.
I have learned how to think instead.

Instead of making the world stop
I stop myself
and sit ass-heavy on the couch thinking of
good times. When I leave the house
I close the door behind me carefully now, never
letting it slam, afraid of the consequences;
I don’t know how good times
happen anymore and I don’t want to scare them off.

I step out of the door and
I don’t see much color
out there, so I tend to stay in more,
getting excited now only over monochromes:
marathon television viewing, the relief
when the cigarette is finished and I can breathe
something that’s not grey fire in my throat, the relief of
the fire that lights the next one, the ice cubes in
the Canadian Club, the longing for a good night’s sleep
because the only time the world stops now
is when I am not thinking of it, when I cannot see it at all,
when the dark eats my dreams and I live quietly for a moment,

living dead for an hour or two at a time,
at last not regretting the poisonous hope
that one day I’ll remember how to stop the world,
recall how I used to see
the razor beauty of things
that grow without the curse of thoughts.


World Literature Today: Performance Poetry Issue

Go to scottwoods, check out this entry:

http://scottwoods.livejournal.com/217360.html

and read and link and comment there or here as you see fit.

I’m a happy man.

Merry merry, y’all.

–T


RIP Java Hut

I’m not going to say anything more than that it was a great night, I didn’t get to talk to enough people, and I’m looking forward to the future.

Anything else is superfluous.


Java Hut farewell Sunday night…request (bumped up)

This is an unofficial request…

Many of you have been to the Hut over the years for features or what have you…if any of you have anything you’d like to say about it, post em here and I’ll forward them to the organizers. Maybe some of them will get mentioned during the sendoff tomorrow night. I’m not directly involved with the evening’s festivities, so no guarantees, but at least they’ll all be here in one place.


Alone in the dim living room
I approve of some thought that passes
through me, and out of my mouth
once again comes

that unexplainable awkward “hmmmm…”
in a satisfied tone
that I can never explain adequately
to anyone who hears it: how can I be
agreeing out loud
with a half formed idea that
I can’t even explain? I am glad I am
alone, until I realize
there is one being here beside me,
the only one that
ever understands why sometimes
I speak before I think, even before I understand it —

the guitar in the corner
responds to my ecstatic grunt
with a low chuff, a resonance just below
the level of music — close enough that I know
I will wrestle it later
and try to have it tell me
what it was that I meant
when I made that sound.


Poetry Shoes

I wrote this for Mike McGee to use during his 24 hour feature which started tonight, and was honored that he chose to open with it.

Go hit his blog at mikemcgee and you can connect to a live stream from San Jose…

He sent me one to debut tonight at the Hut. I will try to do it the justice it deserves for the great premiere he gave mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Poetry Shoes

It was an ordinary day
( by which I mean to say
it was as beautiful
as every other day)
when I walked up to the edge
of the roof
of the twenty story
Bank Of America building
and stepped off.

Since I had my poetry shoes on
I wasn’t worried —
in those things I can do anything.

I sauntered along,
high over Tenth Street,
twenty stories above the people below,
sustained by sestinas and clouds of clerihews,
and the wind in my hair and my face
(and even the small gusts that would sneak up
the legs of my pants) felt as cool
as anything you might see in a fashion magazine —

“gonna have to use that line in a poem sometime,” I told myself —

and by chance I looked up and I saw
I wasn’t alone. There were people everywhere!
People stepping out from their offices,
people who’d snuck up to the rooftops on breaks,
people who’d slipped on their poetry shoes
to rise above it all,
just to get through their rotten days —
by which I mean
their ordinary days.

We all need a way to soar.
Everyone needs a new pair of shoes.
Get away from the bank, the school, the office and slip on
your poetry shoes, brothers and sisters,
your sonnet sneakers, slam slippers, brawny
epic boots, haiku ballet point shoes, beat tap sandals,
cowboy flippers — slip ’em on!

Step out into the air
and take a walk with me, or show me where you’re going
and I’ll follow you anywhere,
high above Tenth Street,
away from the banks and the dangerous pavement;

on this ordinary day (by which I mean to say
on this beautiful, magnificent day)
the sky’s gonna be crowded with hikers who know
the best journeys always begin
with one
well-shod step
off the edge.


Dude

Wrenched my back just now while out shopping. Laid up on the couch, watching “The Big Lebowski” for the first time.

I think this movie is about to go down on my list of movies everyone loves that I can’t stand, along with “American Beauty,” “Waking Life,” and “Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind.” The common thread seems to be that these are movies that seem to have philosophical and deep things to say while really saying pretty much nothing deep, or nothing I agree with or believe is true.

Killer soundtrack, though.

EDIT, 11:56 Dec 23rd:

After reading everyone’s responses, I just want to make it clear that I won’t be watching this movie again, so there will be no chance to convince me otherwise; this isn’t a competition to change my mind; there’s no right or wrong.

I don’t like the movie. I’m not on the fence about it. You can think and feel about the movie and my dislike of it however you like. It’s fine with me.


Before heading out for the last round of Xmas stuff…

Thought I’d pose a question I’ve been thinking about.

What 3 songs best define your particular favorite style of music for you, and why? I’ll give you an example of what I mean.

If I were to look at the three rock songs that made the biggest impression on me as to being statements about rock and roll, I’d pick the following:

1. The Who’s “Substitute” — captures that restlessness and “misfit-itude” that drives the greatest work in the genre

2. Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode” — the ultimate idealized version of the ultimate rock and roll fantasy

3. The Clash’s “Death Or Glory” — the downside of the rock dream, with some great social undercurrents and comments every self-proclaimed revolutionary in any genre ought to heed

What are yours?


HA!!!!!


Well, THAT’s special.

Your Score: Spiteful Loner

You are 71% Rational, 28% Extroverted, 71% Brutal, and 42% Arrogant.

You are the Spiteful Loner, the personality type that is most likely to go on a shooting rampage. In high school, you were probably that kid who wore all black and who sat alone in a corner of the lunch room, drawing pictures of dead babies. You are a rational person and tend to hold emotions in very low-esteem; not only that, but you are also rather introverted, meaning you probably bury any emotions you feel deep inside yourself, like all of the bodies in your backyard. Combine these traits with your dislike of others and your brutality, and it seems that you would be quite likely to shoot innocent people in a rampage. Most likely, you also have low self-esteem. Hell, I get low self-esteem just looking at you. This is only yet one more incentive to go on a shooting rampage, because you wouldn’t care if you died as a result. Granted, you probably haven’t gone on a shooting rampage and probably never will, but all the motivations are there. All you need is for someone to push you over the edge, calling you names and belittling you. Like me. But don’t shoot me. I have a 101 mile-long knife, you know. In conclusion, your personality is defective because you are too introverted, brutal, insecure, and rather unemotional. No wonder no one hangs around you, you morbid, cold-hearted freak!

To put it less negatively:

1. You are more RATIONAL than intuitive.

2. You are more INTROVERTED than extroverted.

3. You are more BRUTAL than gentle.

4. You are more HUMBLE than arrogant.

Compatibility:

Your exact opposite is the Televangelist.

Other personalities you would probably get along with are the Capitalist Pig, the Smartass, and the Sociopath.

*

*

If you scored near fifty percent for a certain trait (42%-58%), you could very well go either way. For example, someone with 42% Extroversion is slightly leaning towards being an introvert, but is close enough to being an extrovert to be classified that way as well. Below is a list of the other personality types so that you can determine which other possible categories you may fill if you scored near fifty percent for certain traits.

The other personality types:

The Emo Kid: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Starving Artist: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Bitch-Slap: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Brute: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Hippie: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Televangelist: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Schoolyard Bully: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Class Clown: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Robot: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Haughty Intellectual: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Spiteful Loner: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Sociopath: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Hand-Raiser: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Braggart: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Capitalist Pig: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Smartass: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

Be sure to take my Sublime Philosophical Crap Test if you are interested in taking a slightly more intellectual test that has just as many insane ramblings as this one does!

About Saint_Gasoline

I am a self-proclaimed pseudo-intellectual who loves dashes. I enjoy science, philosophy, and fart jokes and water balloons, not necessarily in that order. I spend 95% of my time online, and the other 5% of my time in the bathroom, longing to get back on the computer. If, God forbid, you somehow find me amusing instead of crass and annoying, be sure to check out my blog and my webcomic at SaintGasoline.com.

Link: The Personality Defect Test written by saint_gasoline on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Great night, painful night

SPECTACULAR night last night at GotPoetry Live…

Possibly my favorite night so far. It was another poetry and music night, where Faro (and, hopefully, someday, other people as well) play back up music to poems.

Faro’s gotten really good at backing up spoken word, and it showed last night. It was a high energy night with a mix of silly and profound and strong poems from everyone.

April Ranger from the Cantab scene did a superb feature — local hosts, she has my highest recommendation. You can see the archived webcast of her feature here: http://www.blogtv.com/shows/27232 (Yes, we’re webcasting the reading now!)

This reading is kicking into an even higher gear, gang — come out and be part of it. We’re back on January 8 with new poem night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The painful part came when I took a bad fall at home later on icy steps and whanged up my back and shoulder but good.

OW. I can barely move my left shoulder today and have a solid line of pain across my back at the level of the lowest ribs where I landed on the leading edge of the bottom stair.

As I said earlier, OW.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I mourn the loss of the Java Hut, and I hate the anguish its messy end has caused for some of my friends, but I’m thrilled for the soft landing for the Asylum at the Q. It’s a little smaller, but in these days of venues shutting down across the nation, it says something important about the Asylum that it will continue without a break because there were owners who were already saying “we want you guys” before it happened.

As javabill says, the Asylum is the people, not the place. We’ve moved before and thrived. We’ll do it again.

And I’ll be back.

Go read javabill for more info, and get the official details here: http://www.poetsasylum.org

Over and out.


Everything I Know In Life (I Learned From Marijuana)

1. decision

to pass on it or hit it
when it was first offered
made it obvious as to
where
I would stand
in the great battles.

2. buy

no trust
is complete,
but trust
anyway.

3. tools

what you work with
is not as important
as the end result.

4. process

any thing worth doing
is worth doing well.
every loose end should be tightened,
every tear should be repaired,
clean up should be meticulous and
anything left over should be
saved or shared.

5. sharing

it’s never
100 %
reciprocal; someone
will always
take more
than they should.
share anyway,
it comes back
around often enough.

6. nostalgia

looking back
through haze
makes everything
golden.

7. paranoia

yes, they’re watching.
you’re suspect,
they are too, all good things
are under suspicion to someone.

8. appetite

if you can swallow it,
it’ll do the job. all
that matters is empty.

9. once it’s done

it can be revisited,
but it will never
be the same.


Poetry and Music tonight at Gotpoetry Live with feature April Ranger, from Cambridge!

Last show of the year as we won’t be running it on Christmas and New Year’s Day.

Come down, swap presents, read poetry, read poetry to music, make music…and commune.

7:30 at Reflections Cafe, 8 Governor Street, Providence, RI. Cover/donation, $2.

Come down, O poets, O musicians…meet and comingle, meet and collaborate. These are rapidly becoming the best nights on our schedule. And a feature like April’s not to be missed.


R.I.P, Java Hut

It appears the rumors are true, and that the Java Hut, home of the Worcester Poets’ Asylum for the past 12 years or so, is biting the dust as of Sunday following the slam.

It also appears that something’s already in the works for the Asylum to continue elsewhere, although I haven’t heard any confirmation of that yet.

I’ll miss the Hut something fierce — will likely head down there today at some point, something I was planning to do any way.

And I’ll be there for the slam on Sunday. Gotta say good bye.

But what is it that Frank Herbert said in Dune? “Parting with people is a sadness; a place is just a place.” Don’t know if it’s always true, but when it comes to the various venues the Asylum has had over the years, it always manages to stay afloat…

I’ll be there for the opening night of whatever the new venue is, too. Whatever my issues with the scene at the moment, it’s still home. It’s still family.

And it’s still not real yet.


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