Monday, April 7, 2014

Against my better judgment...

I'm posting something I wrote here today. So far today, I've written three. One is a cento, and as much as it takes creativity to make a cento, I almost feel like it's sort of a cheat. So, two self portrait poems (including said cento) and this one, a love poem to an inanimate object. In this case, it's my laptop.


HP G62 is a silly name. Can I call you Noelle?

I actually really fucking hate you
and most of the time, I want to
punch you straight in the face,
but then I'd have to have you
repaired or replace you, and the
truth is, I'm very sentimental.

When you're doing what I ask of you,
you're as quick and thorough as a fox
darting through the brush at Island
Beach State Park. I've worn the "A"
off your keyboard, but you don't seem
too worried about it. I tried to feed
you more brain power, but it wasn't
the right stuff and you rejected it.
It's ok. I'm used to being rejected
by the ones I love the most.

The truth is, I want to hate you.
I want to throw you when that blue
screen of death interrupts me in the
middle of a poem, or updating my website,
or listening to music on Spotify.
I want to slam you on the desk and scream,
"Why are you doing this to me?!",
but it's only because I treat you so well.
I just want some appreciation once in a while.
A simple "thank you" or "good night" when I
put you to rest at night will suffice.

I know you see me through your webcam.
I might not be the perfect guy for you
and I suspect you'd be a blonde girl, as most
blondes thumb their noses at me, but sleep
mode tonight knowing that, in all honestly,
I cannot live without you.

 

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

What we've got is a "blue light special" on truth...

So much for following through on posting here more often. No worries. I will motivate myself to do so...even if I have to bash my head into a wall to remind myself. Believe me, there's much to be said, to be covered. 

I've decided not to post my daily poems here this year. I could change my mind and post a few here and there, but I'd rather keep most of them to myself. I am posting one a day at Robert Brewer's blog. He has guest judges for each day of the month and they will pick a "poem of the day" for each day. It's a different kind of structure this year, which is kind of cool, though I have no expectation of being chosen at all, especially after seeing the names of some of the people posting there. I saw work from Shaindel Beers, Aleathia Drehmer, Taylor Mali and a few other heavy hitters, as well as some lesser-knowns who are pretty killer. We'll see how this goes. The writing, at the very least, will continue. I have three for today. I want to top the 66 I wrote last year.

I also have a lot of poetry from others to cover. I am starting to make good on decreasing the pile of books on my bookcase. (No, there's no more room on this bookcase, so piles are forming in front of books.) I've been reading Sierra DeMulder (my new favorite, by far), Heather McNaugher and some others. I have books to read by Kat Dixon and some coming in the mail from Kristy Bowen. I am immersed in poetry, which is never a bad thing.

I'm also quite excited by the plethora of new releases coming in music. Several bands I love are releasing new music. Some are bands that have reformed with their original lineups (Information Society (!!), Veruca Salt (!!!), Nickel Creek (!!!!)) and others, like the brilliant San Diego band ILYA, who haven't released anything in nine years. There's more I'm undoubtedly forgetting...but rest assured, I will be in aural delight this year. 

Now, if only I can find a job worthy of my time, effort and brain power...

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Promoting mediocrity...

So, when do we get tired of meeting the so-called standards of public outrage? It seems that Jerry Seinfeld is getting a little shit about a statement he made in regards to comedy. Let's review said statement:

“People think it’s the census or something,” Seinfeld said during a BuzzFeed Brews with CBS This Morning interview. “This has gotta represent the actual pie chart of America? Who cares? It's just funny. Funny is the world that I live in. You’re funny, I’m interested. You’re not funny, I’m not interested. I have no interest in gender or race or anything like that.”  

First of all, I'm not someone who would be quick to defend Jerry Seinfeld. It's not because I don't like the guy, I'm just not enamored by his brand of comedy. IE: I don't find him to be funny. Different strokes and all. Second, why do people need to twist this into, "Oh, Jerry hates women and people of other ethnicities"? It's not what he's saying at all. Then, you have your other detractors who say, "He hasn't been relevant in years." Oh...so what have you done lately? Build a house for the homeless? Volunteer at a shelter? Record a critically lauded album? Won a Pulitzer? Fuck off, people...seriously. I think that Seinfeld's mindset here IS forward thinking.

I don't believe in rewarding ANYONE due to their background. I'm of the old school thinking that the best qualified person should get the job, no matter what race or gender they are. I think that the NFL's Rooney Rule is asinine. We keep implementing things into society that politicians and lawmakers think are good for society when really, we're just dividing people even more. Political correctness is horrible and I can't stand it. We all spend so much time arguing over stupid shit that we never sit down and figure out how to get along with one another. For all the progress we've made over the decades, we always find a way to slip back. We're supposed to be more evolved. It's time to cash that check that our ass is writing...pony up, before it's too late.

Friday, January 31, 2014

The only way to evoke change...

I have resolved to make a concerned effort to get back to blogging regularly. By regularly, I mean at least five times a week. It's easy to get sucked into social media, get distracted by the glow of television...by sympathetic pleas. What am I talking about? Hmm...

Let's talk about a poet. This poet is a repeat offender of abuse towards women he's been in relationships with. Here's one account of abuse from poet Kia Groom. She's not the only one. Not all have come forward, but another, my poet friend Kat Dixon has also been vocal in her experiences with Greg Sherl and about the abuse she suffered. You don't need me to explain what happened. These two women do a good job of it. 

Now here's the kicker to this story: Greg Sherl has an online fundraiser going to help him overcome his "OCD". Granted, he might actually have OCD. He might suffer from a lot of the things that my neighbor suffers from. Here's the thing: my neighbor doesn't use his illness as a reason to beat the shit out of his wife. You don't beat someone for not being able to get the stain out of a shirt.

I don't care about his poetic celebrity. I don't care about whether or not he's any good. A piece of crap like this doesn't need to be rewarded by anyone, and his little fundraiser is the equivalent of that. I do know that Gregory Sherl has been gaining more popularity in the poetry world. It seems that popularity can excuse certain things in society, whether you're a poet, musician, actor, etc. Naturally, I call bullshit. People like this need to be held accountable for their actions, not coddled. 

On top of all of this, Sherl is involved in writing for an online project called The Good Men Project. There are, in fact, some good men writing there. One of which is Ryan Bradley, a poet, friend and the cover artist for Maverick Duck Press. I certainly wouldn't want to take away from the core of what the website is trying to promote, but allowing Sherl's articles to remain on their site is entirely detrimental to the spirit of what they're trying to promote. In that sense, I can't in good conscious, promote or support anything they advertise until they've booted Sherl from their site permanently. 

You can ultimately decide for yourself. Read Kia and Kat's statements. They won't be the only ones you'll find about Greg Sherl abusing women. The writing community, the poetry community, needs to take a stand and say, "We will not condone the actions of an abuser." Gregory Sherl needs to be held accountable for his actions.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Album review: Lucius - "Wildewoman"

The Brooklyn quintet Lucius actually started some nine years ago when Jess Wolfe met Holly Laessig. They instantly knew they'd be making music together. Wolfe and Laessig recorded an album with guest musicians called "Songs From The Bromley House", a spare and pretty album. They'd later decide that it wasn't a true representation of what they wanted to do as musicians and hooked up with Dan Molad and Pete Lalish, both formerly in Elizabeth & The Catapult, the former also being a producer. As a quartet, they released a stunning self-titled ep produced by Molad highlighting a stronger band aesthetic, as well as Wolfe and Laessig's stellar harmonies. Later, they would add Andrew Burri to complete the band. Now comes "Wildewoman", a fully realized vision of Wolfe and Laessig's musical and lyrical aspirations, fleshed out wonderfully by the atmospherics of Molad, Lalish and Burri. Three songs from the ep make appearances here, two of them re-recorded and improved. "Go Home", their majestic ballad remains unfettered, and with good reason. There was nothing to improve on. "Turn It Around" gains a little more echo, a little more of a 60's "Wall of Sound" feel, while "Don't Just Sit There" gains more focus on harmony. There are no weak tracks on "Wildewoman", simply songs that stand out a little more than others. Of those songs, "Tempest" rides a wave of sonic perfection with soaring harmonies, "Nothing Ordinary" features insistent rhythms and interesting time changes, a perfect chaos, if you will and "How Loud Your Heart Gets", which seems to take flight and then rest comfortably somewhere in the stars. It is easily one of the best songs this band has recorded to date and the perfect song to end this stellar album with. 

Monday, September 9, 2013

There is no proper way to grieve...

Last Friday, I went to my first funeral. It was entirely unexpected. It was for my father. He had suffered from Alzheimer's for around three years. It was near the end of August that he went for a walk and never came back. He was missing for almost four days. After he was found, he spent about a week in the hospital. He died the day after I came up from South Jersey. At that point, he was no longer responsive. I didn't get to hear him talk to me again. 

Let me point out a few things. I didn't have the emotional attachment my younger brother had with him. We rarely connected on much. I did not follow the same path as my half brother and my younger brother, so he didn't have much use for me. This is not to say that he was a terrible person. His role as a parent was to work, earn money and provide. He wasn't of the mindset to be emotionally involved or to be invested in the interests of someone he didn't quite understand. The man didn't really have any hobbies. He worked. He fixed things. He liked the Minnesota Vikings and the Minnesota Twins (I am a Twins fan, as well.) He watched a lot of television and spent many nights asleep while its glare lit up a dim living room. He loved to have a beer at dinner and he loved butter flavored popcorn. He used to buy gigantic bags of it and eat it while watching tv. A fair amount of it would end up all over his chest.

I can't sit here and unload the kind of words my brother did on Facebook. I cannot manufacture an emotion. Perhaps that is why I was a bit more stoic during both the wake and the funeral. I wanted to feel more. I wanted to grieve. I think it will take some time. My father and I didn't always have the warmest relationship. In fact, I held on to a fair amount of animosity over the years about his lack of emotional availability and support for the things I wanted to do with my life. Of course I am sad. Of course I'm dealing with a rush of memories and of course I want to be able to grieve. 

I said my goodbyes in the hospital, in the funeral home. I touched his motionless chest and said, "Goodbye Donny". (My brother and I always called him Donny as a bit of a joke since his brothers and sisters in Minnesota always called him that.) The face I saw in the hospital, and later in the casket, wasn't the Donny I remembered and isn't the Donny I choose to remember. He might never have liked my choices. He might never have read a single poem I've ever written. It doesn't really matter. I'm content with people remembering him as an easy going, good-natured guy who would talk to anyone. The things that happened in the past can stay there. None of that matters anymore. I won't be able to see him again and ask him if he was ok with how I turned out. I don't know if it matters. I'll remember his goofy nature and his weird sense of humor. I will hope that when he saw me for the last few times on the 30th and 31st that he could still remember enough to know who I was and that he was glad that I was there.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Getting back to writing music reviews...

...even if it's just for Amazon. I've recently discovered a singer/songwriter from Pittsburgh named Brooke Annibale. (Her last name is pronounced anna-bell.) I had downloaded her album "Silence Worth Breaking" off of Noise Trade, which is a great site for downloading EP's, single AND albums for free...legally. Well, I had downloaded Brooke's album some time ago but never got around to listening to it...until about a month ago. Needless to say, it's excellent. I ended up on her mailing list, so I received an email about her new EP, "Words In Your Eyes". I now own that, as well...and it's absolutely flawless. I've become obsessed with Brooke's music and her unique voice. It would be hard to not appreciate her impressive songs. I completely recommend her. Here's a link to my review on Amazon for "Words In Your Eyes".