Low Kay Shun by John Burroughs

If you see Kay
Tell her I love her
Miss her
Wish she were on the menu

If you see Kay
Tell her I'm sorry
She's not allowed in this venue

Not sure why
Doesn't make much sense
Might have something to do with religion
Or the government.

Her friends Whore and War are welcome anytime
But if you see Kay
Tell her no way!
She can't come.

Most everyone else
Can come til they're dumb though.

A few other folks are welcome as long as
They wear the acceptable contextual clothes:

Dick Van Dyke
Can come as often as he likes
But buy him
Own him
Call him my Dick
And he's not welcome.

Billowy pussy willows
Can blossom and blow as they wish
But own one
Mention that "My pussy will O..."
You'll soon discover
That fair or bare or not
In this place
You're pussona non grata.

My Ps and Qs and I
Are free to come and go
And lie as often as we will

But if you see Kay
Tell her the powers that be
Have had their fill of her
And swill like her
Is barred from the menu
In this venue
By the men who'd rather
Go home and sin you
While warning a word like you
To not intrude on their poetry
Their peach
Pity free dumb of speech
In this low Kay shun.

For those of you that are not familiar with John's work, he maintain two running blogs in addition to a blog where he features the rest of us. I applaud his efforts and hard work and someday I'm going to make it to his open mic and rock it down! Below are his links. There's some fascinating stuff and a wide range of it too. I saw him read this one on his blog and wanted it with the video but the embed html wouldn't work. For now I can share the poem and will try to add the video later. Enjoy!

John Burrough's website

Jesus Crisis Blog

Crisis Chronicles Online Library

link to watch the video on hisspace

Busy as busy bee me...

I want my blog readers to know I haven’t abandoned you. I’ve been working very hard in my position as production editor at The Cartier Street Review. I want you all to know I’ve earned the title. We both put a lot of effort into creating this magazine that is evolving as we speak. We will continue to spotlight a writer each issue. In the upcoming issue we will be including a new section of reviews since people like the reviews on my blog.

Kate Evans' book For The May Queen

Daniel Sumrall's echap Well Enough

I am actually receiving many books and requests from writers to review poetry chaps as well as full length novels & other works. Upcoming in reviews will be Daniel Borzutzky's one size fits all published by scantily clad press.

Through our creative inputs and ideas we will now be breaking up the writings with people’s artwork photos etc. We’re also working on layout and may make some changes. We’re experimenting. Submissions will remain the same. If you feel more comfortable submitting to me you may do so. If you prefer you may submit to Bernie, principal editor. Directions on submissions are at the website.

The Cartier Street Review

If anyone has any suggestions about how we can improve feel free to write. Our numbers have grown tremendously, which I take credit for and am proud of. I thank all of you for your love.

More News:

As many of you know I am working on a series of Bluetry poems. Yessireee folks, I made up a name for the series. Today I worked on Bluetry #7 & #8. I have only posted up to number 3. I'm saving some for he who comes last, pun intended.

More more new shit:

I recently got involved in pomoting wheelhouse mag at fb. DubbleX was recently online in a fb chat with David Michael Wolach, principal editor of wheelhouse mag (this link to actual mag.) David asked DubbleX to submit audio for the upcoming version of wheelhouse. He said he loves our audio files! He's labeled me editor and I guess I'm actually the publicist since he needs none of my other work. Give a shout out to wheelhouse and their increase in numbers - whooeee!

Don't ask - don't know where that talent comes from but at fb I created a club for Ira Lightman and his numbers are way up.

I've also pumped up the volume for Turntable & Bluelight Mag. I helped wordsalad mag too. I also often feature artists and writer on my facebook profile page. You know who you are. At DubbleX's urging I started our fan club too at fb.

Way New Shit!

I've agreed to get involved in promoting hinge theory and we (Michael Annis, Heller Levinson & I) are in puppy dog stages in this planning process. I am awaiting my package from Michael Annis which is going to introduce me to hinge theory. Look at Heller Levinson's work on line and at the latest edition of The Cartier Street Review to get more of a clue about hinge. Fascinating! Michael has graciously accepted my first bluetry poem, I Sing The Blues For You Today for publication in OMEGA 7. Just got news from Shotgun Slim Sneako aka Michael Annis that So A Black Man is President will be included in OMEGA 7 too.

Singing Billies Blues By Me, Bluetry #3 (to read)

I implore you look outside the plate window. See how the wind whips the sky. I hear its wail above city sounds way up here in my 16th floor prison here in the Heights. I implore you free me from my tears have become the storm outside. Hear me wail, your other half – We are one, you know us well. Watch me flail, I can’t find a rail to hold onto. I don’t want to fall, but it’s slippery out here. Give me your hand to hold to cross the space.

My fingers ice, froze near the window where I continue to type absorbed in my hype about reality. Nice stories neatly told and packaged for your delight, passed to and fro. I cast my spell; create my own heaven & hell, my well of desire bursting forth.

My family gave me up for lent. Is that the answer or the end? Am I worth more now or less? Where to explore next, I remain sure in my search, I’m seeking answers with leaps of faith, I promise I am I am.

In my solitude
You haunt me
With memories
Of days gone by

4 days in a row I refuse to leave my abode. I can’t go, I should go to the gym, and won’t. I refuse to agree I’m depressed too not just dubblex. I don’t give in to my own reality, the fatality. He’s too old for me with circumspect dark moods. My youthful vision revives him, gives him sight again. All trite and true, not right, not poetry, I swear, reality I swear.

I sit in my chair
And filled with despair
There’s no one could be so sad
With gloom everywhere
I sit and I stare
I know that Ill soon go mad
I implore you stay here

Ahh - a golden glimmer of god finally shines through my frozen world of youthful delight. I see the sun, the truth you held forth for me to see. The sky parts open to expose a bright silver streak of light, the wind so strong it sounds like thunder in my lungs. I want to explore you & forget reality. Let’s talk poetry instead.

The galaxy of my heart swoons for paradise in lost expressions & protestations of love. My blue teardrops tenderly drip down your face. Your faith shadows mine. I bend to kiss your lips like blackberry wine the kiss drips from my lips. None of this is metaphor the wind screams in my face; this is reality. My life left undone. Get a new life tomorrow whispers the wind accompanies my heart returns to the blues in lieu of deed. I sigh with relief though the frustrated wind blows relentlessly without thoughts or feelings about how I feel. I wish she’d stop stop stop in her own good time they say, Okay I say Okay.

A ‘how to manual’ tattooed on heart make me easy to read. Patience, a dash of virtue goes a long way. Make peace not war I implore. W.T.F. about virtues instead? Peace unending everlasting enchanting chore this side of shore. This side of paradise hear my crying my flow of golden words they sing my open heart song for you alone, misty blue hear my wail of thunder & despair. I don’t want to care - I do.

GLOBAL WARNING VERSUS SURVIVAL INSTINCTS

We forget that this world is naked
we attempt to clothe her with our futility
we dress her up with structures
get her drunk on chemicals - get her high with pollution
then wonder why she is now ill
we question where has the water gone; it used to rain and snow here and there
we seem dumbfounded that certain plants no longer grow
and countless animals have disappeared
the world is still naked but we dress her up in heels
as we dig our oil wells spikes to her core strip mine her land
we alter her with breast implants of nuclear plants
we dye her sky hair with colors of radiation
and we wonder why she is balding; the hole in the ozone layer grows
we take her out dancing - use her for are personal pleasure
then wonder why she is suffering with a fever that is steadily warming
we try to shape her and drape her with our form of beauty
then complain our cities
We feed her our trash and then wonder why things are now out of balance
We care for her not and are surprised how quickly she is now aging
the only problem is we forget that she is carrying us daily in her arms

Dubble X wrote the above verse; his partner, JL, wrote the second verse

Dubble X and I combine our verse to praise our mother earth
I want to power the Mohave desert with miles and miles
Of solar panels – enough to run the entire planet
Power the world on solar energy
I want to do this because I love mother earth,
Worship her in her design, she is my creator
The creator of the generations of humans and time
Creator of our earth she bestows grace, productivity proclivity and life
I want to power the Mohave desert with miles and miles of solar panels
So the earth will survive
So my children’s children and yours
Will inherit the earth, so they
Will have a planet on which to reside
A planet that supports life
Because as it stands now
Mother Earth will survive while humanity will die out
The ice age is coming…
Mother Earth will survive …
She will begin the cycle all over again
Will have a planet on which to survive

Check out Don Coorough's essay, On the Organization of an Enlightened and Ecologically Sound Community

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.

EChap Review: Well Enough

When I asked Daniel Sumrall if I should write a review for his chapbook Well Enough at goodreads, he told me not to bother because people were either indifferent or hostile to his work. This naturally made me more curious .
Although I had a million and one things to do, I decided to read his poetry. Sumrall’s style is approachable and easy to understand. I’m not struggling to understand his meaning and can enjoy his intent, at least with the first poem.
His beginning poem begs the question of privacy in an open space on telephone. In the public domain is about listening in to someone’s personal conversation and then seeing that the other person has caught you doing this and they know you have heard and understood their conversation. He compares this to “a knife’s intense precision when hands lack curative intent.”
Ah, guess I spoke too soon about easy to understand. “If landscape rolls out like a body” refuses to feed me the same way as the poem above now “I must penetrate the city’s architecture towers from erections and penetrations upon the earth…no more natural or necessary as the sea ripped with waves in a chiseled man’s abdomen.” gives me more food for thought and I can flow with sensuousness of the prose. I’m not at expert in poetry or about writing metaphor or similes, alliteration or any of these things, and I don’t claim to be. I feel words that make me move inside. I write what I feel and this is what Mr. Sumrall does too. Now I know why people are either indifferent or hostile to his poetry.

I am adding more links for people who would like to read more free chapbooks.

scantilycladpress
goldwakepress

A Review Of For The May Queen by Kate Evans

I started reading For The May Queen disliking the title and cover. That’s an early and easy prejudice to get through. The title made sense after I read the line of the song it had been taken from, referring to lyrics from Stairway to Heaven. I especially didn't like the cover photo. The model didn't look young at all, with dowdy looking clothes she looked about thirty years old, staring at a wilted flower. I would have preferred a photo of a punked up looking rock girl with a stoogie and attitude. Once I got past these minor flaws and prejudices, the book flowed from beginning to end. I finished the book in less than twenty hours.
Very simply written, in first person, the dialogue flows along with the story. I’ve always been curious about what it would have been like to go to college as a teen since I never experienced it. It’s difficult to read Evan’s book For The May Queen and not compare one’s own experiences since that’s what this book is all about; Norma’s early experiences and learning to be on her own while attending college. I never had a childhood or teen years & was forced to be adult beyond my years because of my family situation. I didn’t get to go to college until I was twenty-eight years old. Me going to college was all about “fixing” my life and having a career so I could support my son as a single mom. Naturally the stepping-stones and rituals that Norma focused on made me curious.
Norma defines the ritualistic separation that takes place when we leave home for the first time and how this evolves along with her search of self. Parallel to this young Norma simultaneously seeks her voice as a writer as she searches for her identify. Part of Norma’s learning experience is the richness of people she’s exposed to and drawn to. Naturally drawn to nonconformists Norma recognizes her own hidden depths and how she too is somehow different.
Norma at first only knows herself through how she imagines her friends see her. When she discovers her roommate is gay and realizes the special closeness he had with another mutual male friend is based on this, Norma begins to question her sexuality. She realizes that she loves Chuck because he inspires her to see the world differently. Chuck’s “movie vision view” of the world & his capacity to quote Casablanca and make it fit everyday events make him special. Norma disappoints Chuck after a night of sex & love, by protesting to her unfaithful boyfriend who shows up unannounced that “it meant nothing.” This ends the romance between her & Chuck but after this occurrence Norma begins to explore her inner motivations more.
Kate Evan’s book engrossed me with its sharp wit & humor. I couldn’t help but get involved with her characters. They are similar to the highly artistic creative people we know, each with his own brand of quirky eccentrics. Her characters are real; I could hear their voices.
A very fast reader and entirely engrossing, I highly recommend Ms. Evan’s first novel, For The May Queen. As a former educator I would recommend this book for high school students as well as adults.

This review was published also at blogcritics.com

BLUETRY PART #2

The who am I lost & found in who I am, a contradictory introspection of a delusion of who I want to be mixed with who I already am, the me that is so deep it transcends lucidity the me that fires synapses constantly. I am the me with no home inside, listless, desolate, discontent, abjective, retrospective, lost in grim moments of lost wishes and dreams of who I could be if Clinton was my family, or even Obama would be better for me, I love color. I’ll sell myself for a less, I promise I’ll settle.

You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
but if you try sometimes - well you just might find
you get what you need, oh baby

Let me sing the blues for you again today like I sang for you yesterday
My eyes run misty blue for you
The holiday a passed disgrace I saved no face my eyes stay misty blue for you
An outcast jew singing outcast blues, my mother sang them before me. I want to sing misty blue for you this season.

Freshly showered I emerge to sing the blues for you, to bring you back to where I want to be
I go back in time to rhyme with you, keep my flow to your flow, the glow of my flow keeping rhyme to your rhythm.
You go Charley Brown; come back to hear me sing misty blues

Your eyes shine misty in return I see beyond your armor, sing misty with me
Come in, stay a spell, let me sing misty blue for you.
I put a spell on you
I’m a give you some real life southern comfort, a few pecans, flow the red river stills your mind without forgetting the questions,
I falter, our laughter fills volumes of silent banter, I stand before you, my sensibility turning chill while I wait for the lantern of my soul to light this space
Make this day holy, my life skips an Eartha Kitt beat
my mind feels my heart sing for rain is misty blue I’m sensing changes maybe I’ll wait for you, what if I don’t know all I claim to what about you do you play misty blue and know more than I know.
Inky blue, dusk settles a cool blanket on the sky glimmers of silver clouds shimmer remain
Do you see the same inky sky I see when I see what you see when I look for you to see if you’re looking where I’mmm looking for you, I want a raspberry sky to roll its toll onto golden unplowed fields of ripe green wheat
Common Daddy let the good times roll
Common Daddy let me fill your soul
Common Daddy don’t you be late I think I may have a date with fate
I’ve got this date for old time’s sake, just let me fill your plate
Let the good times roll for old times, for old soul’s sake
Sing me those old time blues give me a taste of those old soul blues
A blue eyed soul girl singing the old soul blues for you Daddy

Singing Billies blues

In tribute to Anne D'Hanconcourt by Valery Oisteanu

Remembering Anne D’Harnoncourt
Valery Oisteanu
Poets & Artists Surrealist Society


Poetic coincidence? Unlikely
You were born three days after me, September 7th, 1943
The artsy-Virgos have a special role in art history
We met at the Dal’-Centennial 2004 in St.Petes/Tampa
Her story was a golden one, from MoMA to Dada
To the underworld of Surrealists and Abstract Expressionists
Anne the quintessential collector and guardian of avant-garde
Duchamp spun the magic wheels for “the tall girl”
His ghost is still a host of the Philadelphia Museum of Art
Anne has a rendezvous with Marcel and Alexina -Teeny
In the basement by Étant donnés’ door
Which hides many ethereal white shadows
Brancusi waves his hat: “Welcome to the Avant-Gods!”
CŽzanne paints a peach inside a giant peach
Dal’ brings his soft piano as a present
Dal’-spectrum shines as a halo above her head
Alfred Stieglitz and John Cage create Silence for you
Frank Gehry running with drawing to catch you
The vision of an architectural expansion of PMA
Frida Kahlo and Lee Miller salute you
For breaking cracks in the gender-ceiling
Bravely educating Philadelphians
Without breaking a sweat
Exiting quietly, suddenly, June 1st, ‘08
New summer moon is broken
We pray for you Anne d’Harnoncourt,
The Saint of artists and a Captain of art.


Valery Oisteanu: zendadanyc@earthlink.net
Copyright © 2008 (Valery Oisteanu).
Journal of Surrealism and the Americas 2:2 (2008), 253