MY HEART GOES ASTRAY

Static in my heart sings a ring so strong

like an episode of sesame street gone wrong,

the world gone awry in a single cry awoke

evoked clouds linger in the pre-reminiscent pregnant air

five seconds ago on the web, I watched

Yellow red purple smoke rings cascade up from Cape Canaveral

Choked on enzymes fumes

in absence of love invades hate on the abyss a trend in fate,

an alias to convert a feather stroke to abuse with a lavender candle invoked

Skyrocket in sight with a socket in my cap. 

Didn’t say it wasn’t love

The rhythm of the music moves my hands

Heros dead in a flash of smoke one last glare

Great curls of white smoke rise eyes tear

Life throws so many darts no way to know

Step smack middle in the midst watch them go

Lost glares silence stares me in the eye, 

life isn’t fair you cry, 

I never told you it was

an old theme renewed reneged turn your back,

go away little girl though that cunt tastes so sweet to eat 

keep it away from me,

cause I’m dangerous.

I lie, cheat and go to war to get to eat what I want.

I’m so aware, King of the State of affairs between me and Britain.

Jews are lucky, we have a soul with an afterlife, not a hell.

Eat your sins for the glory shall be mine.

Got the fine for double parking, ate that too, a mighty tasty lugubrious morsel of time,

paid only one dime, was worth every cent, a one-of-a-kind find

white, pure, shiny granules of hope runs

Gotta meet fate at the corner of Doomston and Outta control genetic traits boulevard

The station gate at eight don’t be late, I set my heart on this chart.

I’m the bait. Worth the wait, good rate, not hatin’ I’m chillin'.

A breath of fresh mint, double-mint peppermint gum

Repressed a breeze in Iceland emigrated to USA,

reject from Liverpool, traded in Halvah for a day,

lost in the fleshiness of the moment I give my life away

Poetry, Porno and Chess

Do all while listening to Bach, Maclemore and Jill Scott

Who could ask for anything more than poetic thought and porno

Oooo baby that’s so hot

A challenging chess game

accompanying a good soundtrack

No skin to skin, no one’s emotions to think about

A fantasy in place of human energy

Oooo ahhh uh - huh, that’s the way, uh - huh, I like it

Ponder my next move while analyzing

where my online opponent’s queen goes

Before calling checkmate

Not sure if it’s fate that each day awaits

I take the bait and make the same old moves

Listen to music asleep and awake,

Headphones like body parts,

rids me of my soul aches

Play chess hours on end till finally forget how many

games I’ve played, maybe a hundred and twenty

Listen to hip-hop, rock and roll, soul

Day after day sit on my ass –

Write a few lines of poetry, scroll through porno videos,

Play chess till it comes out my ass

I’m a bit morass, but dig it, I’ve got class

Twenty - four - seven, play this round till I fall out or die

Whichever comes first,

before my next prescribed pill high

It’s my life and I’ll live how I want to

Live how I want to

Do what I want to do

Write poetry, watch wacked out shockingly violent porno

Listen to the Stones and Les Misérables

Contemplate my next strategic move

Poetry, chess and Porno

Life is so – so good!

Ode to Wellington

My Daddy was a complex man

A pianist and musician

Tinkled the ivories, up and down scales his hands ran

A father, a member of the church board

A teacher, a member of the community

Daddy created performance opportunities

Daddy loved music, played piano with passion

His performances received many ovations

His love for music didn’t follow current fashion

Daddy loved opera, show music, Beethoven, Chopin

Daddy sent me chocolate and carrot cake from Omaha Steaks

Daddy had a big personality combined with

An even bigger voice

Daddy liked to knock back vodka Stolis

His poison of choice

Daddy said recently, “Son I don’t drink anymore,”

I laughed later; putting away meats he’d sent me shopping for

Lying in the freezer was his prized Stolichnaya Vodka   (stol-ich-na-ya)

My Daddy liked to knock back the Vodka Stolis

Quality vodka from Russia Papa liked

Daddy liked to talk, carried a conversation

My Daddy was only human, like the rest of us

Daddy liked to party and partied hardy till the end

With his many friends

A few days before his death he'd planned

A big birthday celebration, a yearly event, at a nearby hotel

Everyone came to party with Daddy

This years’ event happened without my Daddy

He wanted to go but couldn’t get out of bed

Who would’ve though two weeks later he’d be dead

Daddy forgot to invite me but I didn’t mind

Luckily Lia was there to find out why he hadn’t arrived

That final party was short lived

Memories shared survive in my heart crash-dived

Daddy passed down his love for music to me

The love for art ran deep through both sides of my family

Dad wasn’t all bad; he wasn’t all good
He was my dad and I loved him for all that he was

I've helped several people by writing Mother or Father poems after their loved one passed on. Here's another poem for a my husband's loss.

Japan: Frying Dutchman - HumanError -- Society's Child -- Sott.net

Japan: Frying Dutchman - HumanError -- Society's Child -- Sott.net: 

http://www.sott.net/article/241306-Japan-Frying-Dutchman-HumanError

Someone as crazy as me ranting like me trying to get the dead who inhabit our earth to wake up and see the sunlight before it is too late. The strength and emotion is very powerful. Now I understand how it feels when someone tells me they came out on a Saturday, their day off, for entertainment and though they find it very interesting and like it, they want something a little different too. 

The words and music did make me cry.

Joy’s repertoire is expanding

Since late 2008 when I began working on my bluetry series, beginning with I Sing The Blues For You, which to date, has been published 5 times, I have been incorporating music into my performance poetry. More recently I decided to expand my repertoire by adding song to my performance and also to give listeners a break from my rants and raves which are very sad and sometimes overwhelming.

My neighbor, Wren Harrington, has been kind enough to take me on as a student. Ms. Harrington is a very accomplished singer and teacher. The first lesson consisted of breath exercises along with scales. I then begged her to help me with my first song that I had been miming alone and with Dubblex. Wren proclaimed that I improved greatly just in my first lesson.

I am so excited! I can't wait for lesson two.

In the meantime, here I am playing sing song all by my lonesome, plodding along.

Here below is the first song, Turning Point, that I know from listening to Nina Simone. If you click on the link you can watch at youtube.

Turning Point

The second song below can also be watched at youtube.

I Wish You Love


Gloria Lynne made the song I Wish You Love famous. According to what I read, Ms. Lynne, who recently passed on a few weeks ago, recorded this song thinking it was no big deal. It wasn't even one of her favorite numbers to perform, but audiences fell for the way she performed this number and it hit the top ten list quickly and became a hit.

For a while, Ms. Lynne was homeless, as she never received any monies from the records of most of her recordings. When asked why she continued to sing when she couldn't make a living, she replied, that singing was what she lived for. I am certain all of you artists can relate to that. It's certainly welcome to earn income for our art, but whether we earn or not, we continue to be artists. It's just so sad that so many artists during her time period were taken advantage of in this manner, and not given proceeds for the albums they made that sold.

The day after Ms. Lynne passed, I happened to be at a music jam on the lower east side, at University Of The Streets, and a woman sang this song in memory of Gloria Lynne, and did it justice too. This inspired me to move myself to the next level to add to my performance. It was also a sad moment for me because Mohammad, the guy who originally founded the University Of The Streets, was someone I'd met back in 1977. During that time Mohammad had many type programs at the University for the community. I happened to be walking by, looked up and saw the name of the organization and walked in. After that, I met with him frequently. My discussions with Mohammad was a focusing impetus in my decision to enter Columbia University, where I was a student in the Higher Education Opportunity Program, made eligible through poverty status and being disadvantaged educationally. I was the only white one in the program the entire 5 years I spent undergrad there.

I went to the music jam at University of the Streets with Demetrius Daniel and his friend Mark. Mohammad's photo sat large on a wall. Only the lady singing knew what I was talking about when I said the University used to be around the corner from where it currently was. She informed me that Mohammad had died a few year ago. This made me sad because I had always intended to stop by and see and thank him for our talks and now I can only thank him in my heart.

busy busy busy

Working hard at the Cartier Street Review- yippee.
We're now on Poets and Writers list of Literary Magazines. For those of you who don't want to go; here's the spiel copied below. I included the quote from newpages blog since I was very pleased to see us there too.

CSR is an online quarterly poetry and art publication on Issuu. CSR accepts contemporary poetry, articles on contemporary poetry, short prose, writer interviews and reviews. TCSR is an international literary magazine and will publish in other languages alongside translation. "The masthead of The Cartier Street Review is a testament to online opportunities … opened for literary ventures: Founding Editor Bernard Alain hails from Canada, Principal Editor Joy Leftow and Assistant Editor "Dubblex" from New York, and staff member Thomas Hubbard from Puget Sound, Washington." Newpages blog.

We've been working on redoing our garage band tunes. The first blues tune was very elemental compared to the tracks we put down today. Featuring DubbleX playing back up blues guitar and melodica in the background. I'm tellin' you people, I'm not tryin' to lose ya'll - I want to share ya'll with his artistry. Please visit DubbleXDiaries We collaborate a lot so I think you'll enjoy the entertainment. Right now we are working on some poetry collaborations mixed with a spoken word skit with a hook. DubbleX has a lot of ideas.

More news to report; Brad Eubanks has joined staff, Bernard Alain, Joy Leftow and Thomas Hubbard as editorial intern. We are pleased to have his help. I am looking for one more reader and someone who could continue the same level of expertise Bernard provides in doing layout. I am also talking to another person about helping with business acumen as related to carrying on this literary endeavor. The work is phenomenal.

I've brought up readership at Cartier to 2000 hits a month and according to our leader and founder, Bernard Alain, these are no BS hits, many from university and faculty members. Dubblex thinks we need to charge 99 cents per download for the mag and someone else suggested a poetry contest. I was thinking a reading fee; 2 poems for $5, 3 to 5 poems for $10. Any ideas or comments folks? Feel free to email me.

On that same subject DubbleX and I are cutting a promotional disk of 4 bluetry & 4 musipoems and we were wondering if anyone cares to buy one for $5 including the postage.

I also have some paid work for next month so for the next two weeks I will be working hard at this project. It's already half done.

the beat goes on.

Blues Part III

first time using a band and the camera battery goes dead. You can hear the band jamming to my tune. Usually there's no camera around to catch this impromptu salad. Last night there was a gal at the redroom who was taping me and some others. She said she'll upload to youtube and then tell me - in the meantime you can check this Youtube link.