Have you all completed...

...your Local Poets Survey? Alan would like them returned to him. Very clever, Alan.
A reminder about Jazz/Poetry at the Perfect Blend this Sunday 3 - 5 p.m., open mic with some musical performances.

Okay, Ally had a winner last night with another familiar parent/child scenario - Who do you love most, Daddy or Mommy? Tom suggested cutting a couple of lines.

Tom had a laugh-out-louder (according to Mimi) called Perp Walk. Great title, but obviously dated with a reference to Robert Downey, Jr.

Mimi opened with a teaser which led you into a poem about losing someone to cancer that was powerful. Ovarian - "a wreck of a word" in that context. Good one.

Sex and death seemed to be the topics for the night, as Stacie took us to Sanibel Island for a rendezvous involving salty kisses and sweaty embraces. "I long for your endless summer". Love that.

An argument almost ensued over the blind men and the elephant story which Philomena referred to. Unresolved. Good poem about blathering on without seeing. Obviously dated with a reference to John Ashcroft, however.

Back to sex with Edie. Something kinky involving the dog, and only Vignette I, so there may be more to follow.

Philomena did an outstanding read of Tim's Carrie, a really good story poem with a wonderful line: "I found a shred of you, it came paper thin." Loved that, too.

Storyteller Amidon brought us into the 60's with a "too neat" (according to Tom) tale of cops and a drug bust, riddled with "down to earth" phrases (also know as cliches) which actually worked because of the subject matter.

Dan dealth death (ooh, great alliteration) in the frame of a blackjack game. Some good lines "coffee tasted from a spoon, ashes dealt through a sieve." No rhymes! (but a few tense problems)).

I wound up the sex issues trying to make scrambled with frozen eggs and Dennis finished off death with Reconciliation at a Graveyard. Interesting observation by the author: "monuments are a myth, we carry people."

Our old friend, Bo Geel, appeared, looking as good as she did when last sighted ten or twelve years ago - has it really been that long? She came poem-less and needed her GPS to find us, but said she'd be back.

I grabbed a burger to go at Smit's and rushed home to catch the end of Grey's Anatomy.

A little mistake (by me)

I posted that Sunday Four was beginning this month, when the truth is that it is beginning on May 25, 3 - 5 p.m. at 41 South Main.

Also neglected to post that poets and musicians will be at the Perfect Blend this Sunday. Check with Alan for details.

Alright, Larry has picked a date for his first philosophy discussion: Wednesday, May 14 at 7 p.m. here at VPL. Anyone interested in offering their opinions on a variety of subjects should contact Larry at lrapant@nycap.rr.com. He has a few people recruited.

Remains of the Day

Anyone who was not here...

for Potluck Poetry Day missed out on the best poetry event in my experience, anytime, anywhere.

The pot luck worked out great - some eggs, some sausage, some fruit, donuts, puff pastry, sweet rolls, kuchen, quiche, juices, desserts. (Thanks go to Darcy and the Library Friends for the fruit platter.) More instruction was necessary with the coffee machine - can't you people remember anything?

Mimi and husband Dan were the first ot arrive and about the last to leave. Dan and Beach Boy Burke set up tables and chairs and Mimi got started on the food layout. Mike also nuked sausage and the aroma was inspiring. As usual, people were dragging in and the eating started late, but the conversation was good and no one seemed to be in a hurry.

It was good to meet and chat with Carmen Hall who brought her family from Albany for her first public reading. Carmen has her own book of poetry and will be signing at Book House on May 24th. She assured me at the end of the day that she had had a great time, in spite or because of our craziness. (I don't know about her patient husband and daughters.)

Performances are what made the day remarkable for me. I considered Larry to be at the top of his game as he wow-wed me with his animated rants. I was grinning for the whole thing and thought that surely it would be the best performance of the day until...Ron wow-wed me with his trumpet riffs and casual rolling-off-his-tongue dialogue. Then, wow again, Tom was harmonica-ing like Bob Dylan and I was cursing myself that I didn't have the video camera running.

Obeedude iced the cake with his pirate poem, complete with skull and crossbones sweater knitted by Sarah, swashbuckling hat, eye patch and dead PARROT! We all sang along with his chorus to wind up the afternoon on a very high note.

Ladies, although we had some great poems, we were definitely outclassed in the presentation department this time. The room was bursting with energy.

Many, many thanks go to Dan Wilcox whose poet photos are in our display case. Dan dug out pics of some of us from the early days of V'ville poetry. They will be in the case through the end of April.

Some of you told me you didn't have a chance to look at the scrapbook and photo album I put out on the back table. They are now in my office if you still want to look.

Mimi and Cathy and Edie stayed for clean-up, and have my eternal gratitude.

Dennis announced an exciting development in Poetryville. He has initiated a monthly open mic called Sunday Four at the Old Songs location on Main Street. His co-osts will be Mike Burke and Edie Abrams. Every fourth Sunday will offer a featured poet and open mic between 3 - 5 p.m. This sounds good....

The Happy Blog Goddess

A short recap on a full house

Love in its varying incarnations seemed to be the theme on the 10th.
There was a dimpled love poem from Dennis that surprised us with its charming simplicity.
Mimi said that Joyce "upped the bar" with artwork that accompanied her dragonfly love.
Dan Lawlor dedicated his rose-laden ode to mother's love to his sister; good rhyming, good rhythm.
Tim's lament for a dead lover made my heart ache. An ultimate love poem with a very effective reading. He should have been on stage with a spotlight. He wants me to say he was awesome.
Philomena's They said there would be cake garnered kudos for the perfect title.
Paul's piece was a descriptive sketch of Barn Cats.
Mimi was awesome in the classic good vs evil battle over the gambling tables in Vegas.
We all agreed that a tense change and pruning some connectors would benefit Stacey's tender Journey Home.
Everyone laughed at Edie's successful language experiment aboutbeing unable to sleep. Good one. Uh-------------m.
Art needed to enlightened most of us as to the identity of Jacques Derrida (a French deconstructionist philosopher, in case you didn't know either).
Ally wrote down all of our feelings about the "dying in our sleep" prayer parents make small children say.
Controversy of the evening was over Alan's "snow stick, no stick, snow no stick, snow stick" which I STILL don't get.
Stacie remarked that Tom's AARP Guide to Mating in Captivity (another great title) portrayed "the essence of a woman's again with wonderful sweetness."
Obee practiced his performance piece on us and I had nothing except an appetite which I assuaged with a Smittyburger

I'm baaaack

tHom did a great post for the last meeting. I would like you all to bring me copies of the wonderful poems I missed.

I will see you on Thursday. We'll talk (briefly) about brunch - this Saturday!

bv

A Night (of Poetry) To Remember

Our fearsome leader and blog mistress, Barb, vacationing in Florida, missed an evening of superb poetry with lines that will linger in memory for months! Top-notch stuff! Paul kicked it off with a well-wrought sepia’d portrait of his immigrant grandfather who knew how to keep his mouth shut, and whose cellar reeked of homemade wine. Excellent! Then Dennis stepped up to the plate with a dedication to Pablo Neruda, and images of a Mexican girl scorched in the desert and an arm hacked by machete that took me at least to the set of a Coen brothers’ film. Mike, influenced no doubt by the recent flurry over Six-Word Memoirs, presented a spare yet highly effective dissection of the dissolution of a relationship. Titled Over Done Gone, it had many of us oohing and ahhing. Mimi’s incredibly powerful reminiscence of her mother, Hymn of the Moth, ended with the marvelous Crushed powder from the moth’s wings. Bravo! This was followed by a fun romp with Stacie’s Cat Militia, and Dan’s Rewards, an ironic and highly successful departure from rhyme, pinpointing the consequences that Christ suffered at the hands of a troubled world. The suggestion to change Dan’s They to We was trumped by Edie who reminded us that the drama portrayed in the poem was not universally applicable. Art then took the floor with his meditative Query, yet another fine example of a lot from little. Cryptic, it left many of us puzzling over its simple elegance. Magnificent! Obeeduid’s the truth about quitting (the Director’s Cut) transported us into a dream state with his kids / swinging on trapeze / juggling chainsaws, induced by none other than a Smoker’s Patch! Delightful enough to make some of us reconsider lighting up! Well, not really! My Dark Horse, according to Art, made noticeable the richness of Everyman. Golly! Thanks, Art, I couldn’t have said it better! Tim’s untitled self-described experiment with a different style had us gushing over its success, a gushing that spilled over into the 19th hole at Smitty’s. A poem about friendship in which the poet saw pajamas with feet / big bunny ears / pulling you in my little red wagon / from Sydney to Halifax, a few of us thought the first line, I Wish We Had Shared A Womb, would work very well as the title. The title of Philomena’s submission Kill Them and Take Their Stuff was her son Andrew’s one sentence world history of video games and the virtual world of flowing manes and burning hoofs in which he perfects his maniacal laugh. The pronunciation of maniacal split the group, casting Dennis against the rest of us. He got into a huff, left the room, and returned with Mr. Webster in tow. We quickly overpowered him (and his associate) with our own maniacal laughter! Edie’s bittersweet Legacy, spoke to her ineptitude as Great Auntie Edie the Dessert Chef, with a dollop of jam on her nose / Flour in her hair, but / No grandkids of her own, and was hailed by many as her best effort to date. Indeed, it was a tribute to her evolving unique voice. After an hiatus of far too many months, Ron returned with Holy Week, a tight, shimmering, painterly evocation of another form of legacy, with its women / standing in house dresses, fish slipping / between their ankles, the men dozing in / wavy seaweed. Wonderful! It was truly a Night To Remember, as we closed the library and cruised on down the road to Smitty’s for refreshments and more poetically-tinged chatter!

Respectfully submitted,
tHom