Category Archives: uncategorized

Catching up / final plug

Spent yesterday rehearsing with Faro, finally seeing some of “The Return of the King” (not bad), replacing my cranky printer, and judging at the Worcester semi-finals.

I’ll leave comments on my judging to others, other than to say that people should realize by now how many slams I’ve seen, how many slams I’ve judged, how many I’ve emceed, and how many I’ve competed in. I’ve probably seen every great slam poet in the world by now, and I keep up as new ones arrive and old ones evolve. That should tell you something about what I bring to the table when I’m watching a slam, and some insight into how I judge them.

Tomorrow is the show at the Bowery Poetry Club…

Duende will be at the BPC, 308 The Bowery, NYC, to do the full “Americanized” suite. Doors at 7:30, tix are 7 dollars at the door. We’ll be recording live. It’ll be cool, and you should be there if you can.

Seacrest out. Me, I’ll probably be around later.


How It Began (edit)

Stepped up
Saw that the faces inside
didn’t see him

Put one hand on either side
of the thick antique window and
pushed

Heard the glazing give
Heard the old wood crackle free
Saw the faces inside
turn and stare
Had the Thought —

so what?

Pushed harder
Shook his head as he pushed
Rocked back
Banged back in and was
Through

Fell forward into the party
Landed on a pile of paper
Knocked it into the fireplace
while getting up

Looked around at the ring
of jewelry and silk
Looked around at tables and chairs
Thrones and risers and tumblers
Jesters and a harem
Soldiers and police
Bishops and judges

Turned back toward the cold air and shouted
to the masses behind him

COME ON

and they came

No Blue Bloods blinking
just a Redtide unblinkered
No Sleepy Hollow legacies
just the Van Winkle casualties
all coming over that busted sill
all wide awake again and ready to wake the Rest

This was The Night Time Right Time
Barging in on Daylight Tradition
This was The Wrong So Wrong
making war on The Stuff Of Legend

COME ON

and what happened next was

born again fiesta pouring over the fat rug into the heart of a drawing room star chamber
anti zombie head busting blackbox waving dog soldiers swarming up online through burned wires
threaded through jimcrack marble and oilsoaked rumors of scriptural falsehood disguised as Godhead
filigree scimitar barks with oars made of sandblasted virgin eponymous rhymewood cut from mythforests
rowing into the shallow end of pools of too warm water scented with the weak piss of old news
dark eyed lovely and bleach pirate plain gong tuning misfits dancing artlessly on slippered wings
while staid children stuck hands into the new air around them and felt orange razor wind
though their now free fingers

COME ON

that was how it started

it always begins
when someone presses just a tad harder
against a window that looks like a wall
till it’s pushed


OK, I’ll say it:

I really hate the following things everyone seems to adore:

— lolcats
— most Facebook apps
— unsolicited requests to participate in Facebook apps I dislike
— having to explain to people why I don’t want to bunnyfight, be in a mob war, or (shudder) play Scrabulous on Facebook and how it doesn’t mean I don’t like them personally
— YouTube surfing for funny stuff. I don’t think much of it is very funny.
— receiving multiple requests to look at YouTube funny stuff
— iPods (well, not entirely; but I dislike having no chance to be surprised, and I loathe headphones, earbuds, etc.)

You may commence the hating now.


Ummmmm…

I merely present this. I have nothing to say about it. I just think it needs to be…presented.

http://www.reuters.com/article/newsOne/idUSN2319603620080423


Poem for May Day

The dance is simple:
two-step
from bed to work,
work to couch,
couch
to bed, bed
to work…

On weekends
we might break into a brief waltz:
bed to chores or play to bed
to church to chores or couch
to bed,

but always
we come back to
bed to work,
work to couch,
couch
to bed, bed
to work…

There was a movie once
I never saw
about dance marathons. It was called
“They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?”
I was a kid but I remember the trailer
showed couples draped and struggling
on each other while dulled music dragged them
around a dark floor and
I remember I thought it was strange
because dancing was supposed to be fun,
wasn’t it?


Indiefeed features Duende, plus a plug for the BPC show on Tuesday!

mongobear, everybody’s favorite promoter of performance poetry recordings through his work on Indiefeed, has come through with a truly flattering podcast of Duende this week. It features our cut “Mayans and Aztecs” and also offers his thoughts about our show at the Bowery Poetry Club this coming Tuesday.

Check it out if you are interested, and I hope it encourages you to see the show.

http://www.indiefeedpp.libsyn.com/index.php?post_id=331392

Thanks, Mongo! We’re honored!


Dave K…this one’s for you.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/04/30/palace.takeover/index.html


Honors

on the days when honors come
he stops for a minute and imagines
that it could feel this way all the time:
trusted, believed, safe in a hold on the way
to a home that will allow him
to have a room of his own where he can look around
at beloved items carefully arranged in a new setting.

on the days when honors are given
he recognizes himself again. he touches the mirror.
he decides to believe that that reflection of crow’s feet,
gray temples, odd hairs in unfamiliar places is temporary.
he pulls himself out of the bathroom and goes out into the street
walking a little more carelessly.

on the days when honors come
he reminds himself that in the moment of his death
what he has been will vanish. he will forget himself,
and whether it becomes black or light in the next moment
the things he knew of himself will be gone forever. it will be good,
he thinks, that someone who remains will be able to say:
he did this, though. we won’t forget that he did this.

on the days when honors come, he is cast in concrete. he will decay
eventually, but it will not be his concern then.


It’s official.

I have indeed won the title of Poet Laureate of the Blogosphere.

Thanks to all of you for all your support, with special thanks to my spiritual mentor javabill and my erstwhile negative campaigner theklute; to january_embers for the original nomination; to theryk, ocvictor, wormtown_mensch, vakira, drgeorge, johnpowers, and loudpoet for exhorting the various masses; and to everyone else I’m too sick to remember right now.

As soon as I stop coughing, the fun begins. (That should give me time to figure out a funnier way to milk this.)

First decree: a blog focused on poetry is now a “plog.” This allows me to change my title to the “Poet Laureate of the Plogosphere,” or more informally, the P.L.O.P.


Last campaign post/GP tonight/BPC plug

Ok…I’m still sick, although it seems to be getting a little better. I’ve got a bunch of work to do today and won’t be here terribly much so I’ll compile a few things into one post and have done with it.

The Laureate election continues to be a tight race. Right now, I’m up by some 20 votes or so over Rob McLennan. That’s not enough of a margin if there’s a big push at the end. Every vote counts in an election this silly!

So once again (and for the last time — I’ll not mention it again until the final tally’s done) here’s the link.

http://bloggingpoet.squarespace.com/bloggingpoetcom/category/poet-laureate-of-the-blogosphere

Spread it around, send your friends to vote, etc., etc. The larger the margin of victory, the more dramatic and heartbreaking it’ll be when I renege on all my campaign promises. Hey, I am an American, right?

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

GotPoetry Live tonight is our monthly Poetry and Music night. I’ll be hosting with a separate mic so no one will catch the creeping crud I’ve got. Sharon Wolfenbarger is our feature, Faro will be crunching out the tasty bass, and who knows what else will be cooking?

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

Next Tuesday Duende will be doing the full “Americanized” show for the first time in NYC! We’ll be at the Bowery Poetry Club, 308 the Bowery, at 7:30 (in the time slot where it’s usually the Urbana Slam). Come down if you’re in town and we’ll help stir shit up.

We’re hoping for a large turnout. Please come if you can! We’ll have the merchandise and everything, and we’d love to see you.

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

OK, enough. I’m going back to bed for a while to rest up for tonight.


symptoms have, ahem, migrated south to some degree. 😦

spent a lot of today asleep; going back to bed soon.

if y’all are so inclined, feel free to keep pimping the laureate election. I haven’t got the energy right now. thanks to those who have. here’s the link:

http://bloggingpoet.squarespace.com/bloggingpoetcom/category/poet-laureate-of-the-blogosphere

as of right now, I’m ahead by 20 points with one day of voting left.


ANNNNNNNND the sicky continues…

With no let up, which both irritates me and makes me sad.

Andrew, if this keeps up I won’t make it tonight. Sadness.


I’m sick. Really. Throat is on fire, achy…grrr.

I’m sure it’s airplane related.

As much as I would like to go see Amy Steinberg tonight at the Q, I doubt I’ll make it.

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

I’m still in the lead over at the Laureate election, but only by four votes.

Right now I’m too ill to care much, so blah blah vote, blah blah haiku, blah blah thanks.

That’s probably as coherent as anything else I’ve said lately.


Back from Toronto, off to Coventry.

Time to start cracking down on rehearsals for the May 6 “Americanized” show at the BPC. I’ve also got to send flyers down to them. Will print some later.

The Laureate election is close — damn close: I still lead Rob McClennan by ten votes at the moment. If you’ve got time and inclination and haven’t voted yet, it would be great if you could go do that here:

http://bloggingpoet.squarespace.com/bloggingpoetcom/category/poet-laureate-of-the-blogosphere

The margin is slim, and the election only goes through Tuesday. I don’t want to start having to court superdelegates, especially when I don’t have a clue as to who they might be.

I’ve posted this whole very silly campaign to the Yahoogroups slamlist, and I need to get it onto the regular slam forums today too…gonna go do that now. I have to be honest here: I certainly started treating this as a joke and it still basically is one, but now that I’m in the lead, it would seem that the joke must now be carried to its natural conclusion, which is to go all out to win. Destiny is hard.

So go — spread the word. Get people to vote, and let’s make this a surge that will actually be over at a clearly defined time.


Money, meet mouth.

One Last Poem About Prejudice, Class Warfare, Privilege, and the Like

You are kidding me —
all this breath expended and
it’s not clear? Shee-it.