Hello London Poetry

Or why you should visit The Poetry Cafe in Covent Garden and the Rich Mix in Shoreditch.

I am just now easing my way into the poetry scene here in London. Upon recommendation by Inua Ellams I visited The Rich Mix for Jawdance hosted by Apples & Snakes last month. Jawdance is a free event on the third Wednesday of every month. (This month’s event is tomorrow. If I can manage to write a Christmas piece you might just see me there). These events include feature artists as well as an open mic section for new and existing writers. In addition, they showcase poetry shorts which is just too cool. This event seemed especially for spoken word artists. There is a time limit on the open mic slots which I think was 3 minutes. I would highly suggest it to anyone who wants to listen to some great spoken word!

Recently, I came across an open mic night event called Poetry Unplugged at The Poetry Cafe in Covent Garden. The event occurs weekly on Tuesday nights. (Keep in mind this event costs 5 pounds to the audience and 4 pounds to readers and cafe members.) Now this event is much more of a “page poetry” event. That is not to say that I didn’t totally enjoy it, but it is something to think about when you head out to this event if that is not what you came for. This is a totally open mic event. Each reader is allotted 5 minutes and the host will cut you off if you go over this 5 minutes. With that being said, the host was fantastic. Be sure to get there early -before 7 for sure!- if you would like to read that night. There were some great readers the last time I was there so consider attending even if you prefer spoken word.

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Hello Watermelon

Or why I love to write poems about ridiculous things.

Have you ever heard of the World Champion of Watermelon Seed Spitting? Chances are you haven’t and let’s face it- that’s a damn shame. Poetry can sometimes have this stigma attached to it, that in some way it has to be high-brow or classy and that poems have to be about love or nature. This is clearly not that kind of poetry.

Luling

I come from a long line of seed spitters,
Whiskey drinkers, and porch sitters.
We practice at home, sunflower seeds in hand.
I place one to my lips and the sodium
Makes my gums flinch and teeth clinch
To crunch down on the salty exterior.
My tongue mines for gold among
The shredded shell bits and
I lean back, arc, and spit.
Piles of empty hulls, each one
A little further than the last.
Wash it down with a glass of sweet tea.

I come from a long line of seed spitters,
Whiskey drinkers, and porch sitters.
We frequent festivals with
Funnel cakes and bingo.
Places where wooden picnic tables
Set the mood for Bar-B-Q
Where napkins are optional
But turkey legs are mandatory.
Where you can find a
Showcase of antique wagons,
Once meant to take you to the West
But they reached their destination long ago.

I come from a long line of seed spitters,
Whiskey drinkers, and porch sitters.
We pile into pick-up trucks,
Pillows and blankets in the back seat
Arguments over which route to take
Cash in the background
I dream while Dad drives
The 265 miles from our door
Down Texas highways
To the watermelon water tower.
Painted an appetizing shade of red with
Seeds the size of a full-grown man’s stretched hand.

I come from a long line of seed spitters,
Whiskey drinkers, and porch sitters.
We line up for the chance to win
The contest to prove who’s best.
I pick out my two seeds,
Each one perfectly rounded and
Slightly larger than normal.
Tongue rolled tightly, a deep breath
I place the seed in it’s cradle,
Lean back and arc in flawless form.
My black spec soars through clouds and
Back down to the hard hill country ground.

 

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Hello EPA

Or why the Halliburton Loop Hole is a terrible thing.

I have been working on a new poem called Halli Loop Hole that is related to the current drilling process for natural gas called Hydraulic Fracturing. There has been somewhat of an increase in discussion on the environmental issues that go along with this type of drilling with documentaries such as Gasland as well as the commission of a new two year EPA study.

 

The Halli Loop Hole

No, This isn’t new
It happens every day
As wells grow in numbers,
Mother Earth is shaking
Beneath our feet.
FRAC JOB:
Hydraulic fracturing
We inject chemicals into her veins
And then we don’t listen
As she tremors in pain.
She is trying to tell us something.

Leakoff permeates into her membrane,
Out her pores, and into our bodies
We drink methane and breath benzene
Ignite our sinks
Explode our water wells
A light show we didn’t ask for
No clean water, no clean air
Exempt, The Halliburton Loop Hole.
Pockets of oil and gas converted to
Dollar signs but we can’t see the signs.
Earlobes crammed with cash so we can’t
Hear the cry for help.
She is trying to tell us something.

If we take those millions, better yet
Billions, and convert them into
More useful atoms,
Surely we can run our cars on
Words and phrases and
Heat our homes with
Love and closeness.
She is trying to tell us something.

A scientist said it’s the
Energy equivalent of a
Gallon of milk falling from a
Kitchen counter
So small, so inconsequential
But try 95,000 gallons of milk-
One for each producing well
In Texas alone-
Falling from kitchen counters,
Falling over fault lines
But no one takes the blame and
She’s crying over spilled milk.

We call it natural gas but
Yet there is something unnatural
About Fracturing her soil to
Take a part of her soul.
The west, the beautiful
Rolling plains and
Rocky mountains
Flawed and Fractured.

She is trying to tell us something.

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Hello Ms. Phyllis

Or why some stories are too beautiful not to exist in poetry.

Sometimes as writers we come across stories or meet people that are just too fantastic not to write about. The following poem, Dating Elvis, is a story about an amazing woman who struggled with down syndrome. She passed away in 2010, but the memory of this lovely soul continues to live in others as well as in poetry. (With Audio, Simply click the title.)

Dating Elvis

I remember when this was the International
Before the Hilton took over.
Four times a year, I came to Las Vegas.
He knew it was for him.
Sure, I loved the lights and the money,
But his smile was what kept me coming.
Wearing my best Cassini dress, like
Jackie O,
He couldn’t resist me.
Escorted to the front row
At every show, I never had to
Wait in line like the others.
I was his girl. He winked at me
On stage as if he didn’t care who saw.
He sang our song as if he didn’t
Care who knew it was mine.
He even kissed me every time
As if no one could see us.
He would step off the stage
Walk over to me, and whisper
“Would it be a sin.”
I never expected him
To leave her for me, I was happy
With just my four kisses a year.

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Hello Germany

Or why mustard, bacon, onions, and pickles go so well together.

Because I love to eat German food but we are on a strict budget (on account of we are moving to London in a few months!), last night I decided to make Rouladen at home. It went surprisingly well! Check out the recipe I used for specifics. Here are a few tips on how to make it.

Some supplies:

Start by using a meat tenderizer to pound your meat thinner.

For me, this was the toughest part of the process. If anyone has any suggestions on using a meat tenderizer or what kind of meat might be thinner and better for this, please leave a comment! Traditionally, rouladen is made with very thin meat and can be wrapped around the filling several times. You just can’t get the flank steak to be that thin. Don’t get me wrong, it is delish just the way it is. However, that is about the only thing that seems to make a difference between eating this at home and eating this at a traditional German restaurant.

Then cut and dress your meat. Be sure to use a stone mustard. The more mustard, the better!

Then roll and toothpick or string them to hold. Brown in the skillet with butter.

After they are browned, add your water, beef cube, bay leaf, crushed garlic cloves (3), and any extra pickles and onions you may have (to taste) .

Simmer over medium heat for about an hour or until the meat is done. Then take the rolls, garlic cloves, and bay leaf out and finish making the “gravy” by adding the Lipton Beefy Onion Soup packet and tablespoon of cornstarch (mixed with water). Whisk until the gravy has thickened to your liking. Here is the final product served with mashed potatoes:

 

YUM!

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Hello Superbowl

Or why I have no interest in football but I am dropping out of life to go to culinary school.

Okay so I’m not really going to culinary school, but I am discovering how much of a badass I am at cooking. Well, I don’t know about badass, but I have come a long way from my burning fish sticks incident. (Let’s just say I thought I  had to wait until the oil started “boiling.” I’m not proud of it.) I have AllRecipes to thank for a lot of my success. I have grown into the cooking role (although I there is a tiny part of me that hates the fact that I am a wife in the 50s). My most recent triumph was my spread for a friend’s Superbowl party. My portion of the menu included:

5 Layer Dip

Sausage Stuffed Jalapenos

Steelers Black and Yellow Cupcakes (Aka. yellow cake with chocolate icing =P and yes. I know they lost.)

Brown Sugar Smokies, otherwise known as crack Smokies.

I won’t go over all of the items, just my two favorites.

The 5 layer dip was awesome. I took a few pointers from this recipe. I used a pan that was a bit smaller than 13×9. The key to this dish’s success lies in mixing a tasty taco seasoning packet in with a can of refried beans. So good! Start with a layer of these beans. Then, mix 16 oz sour cream with 8 oz cream cheese and spread over the beans. This was a nice change from just sour cream. The rest of my recipe differs from the one linked. I mashed 3 large avocados and spread that over the cream. Next, I spread some home made pico de gallo over the avocado. Finally, I topped that with a mexican blend of shredded cheese. Do yourself a favor. To cut out some of the calories in this dish, use fat free cream cheese, reduced fat sour cream, and no fat beans. Trust me, you won’t lose any of the flavor- just the fat!

Brown Sugar Smokies!

These might as well be called crack smokies because you will get addicted to them. They are very time consuming to make but are soo worth the effort. I got the idea from this recipe. I started with 2 packages of Lil smokies, 2 packages of HEB center cut bacon, and 1 bag of brown sugar. I cut the bacon into thirds. Beware not to cut the slices too short to where one third doesn’t fit around the smokies. (Yes, this is from experience.) When wrapping the smokies, really coat both the bacon piece and the smokie with brown sugar. Then run a toothpick through it. I put 2 smokie wraps to 1 toothpick and that seemed to work out well. As I wrapped my smokies, I just let them pile up into my big bowl and kept sprinkling more sugar around them as I stacked them up. I had some time to kill before I could cook them so I let them sit in the fridge (still in the sugar bowl) Just fyi, I ended up using the entire bag of brown sugar. When I opened up the bowl to place them on my broiler pan, the sugar was all dissolved and tasty looking. =D There was obviously sugar still left in the bowl when I was done placing the smokies on the broiler pan. I baked them until the bacon was done and the sugar melted (about 30-40 minutes around 350-375 temp.) Be sure to turn them half way through the process so that they don’t brown too much on one side. I wish I had a picture to show of the final product but they went so fast I didn’t get a chance to snap one! Again, these take quite some time in prep but you will find the compliments are worth it.

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Hello Student Loans

Or why someone should tell you that the months after you graduate college will be the worst of your life.

Okay, so maybe not the worst. But, certainly something you are unprepared for. You spend years working and reading and drinking hundreds of cups of coffee to finish a hundred papers or projects. Freshman year sucks a little cause you are new and no one likes to be the little fish. Then sophomore year comes and you care less and sleep more. It isn’t until junior year that you realize what the hell you are even doing there and try to correct the last two years of your life in a three-month time frame. Then senior year comes. It is terrible and wonderful all at the same time. You finally know who your teachers are, the ass you should never take again, the one who doesn’t make you do anything, the one who loves the romantic period just as much as you do. You know how to churn out a 5-page paper over Robert Frost in exactly 55 minutes and 39 seconds. You have read every ounce of literature you could ever imagine. Let’s face it. You are officially a badass. Not to mention you can taste victory.

Then graduation day comes. It’s the moment you have been waiting for. You get all dressed up even though no one can even see what your wearing under your trash bag of a robe. (Which your mom had to shorten for you cause you burned it with the iron). Your whole family shows up, your mom in waterproof mascara, your brothers with secret air horns tucked into their jackets, and your aunt in a hideous flower print dress from the 80’s (seriously Aunt. its 2011. get a new wardrobe already). You have a celebration, get some money and gifts, and look down from the top of your mountain.

One week later.

You are still celebrating. And why shouldn’t you be? You have money to spend on beer, beer, and, well, more beer.

One week later.

You wake up, eat some cereal (because you spent all of your money on beer), and watch the latest (well for Netflix anyways) episode of your favorite show on the Xbox. You sit on the couch, thinking that you have some how earned this right to lounge and be lazy. After all you did spend 4 years waiting for this.

One week later.

You wake up, eat some cereal, and start to wonder what you should do for the rest of your life. You decide to worry about that later. After all, you’re a college graduate. Who wouldn’t want to hire you, or let you into grad school?

One week later.

You wake up, eat some cereal, and eat some more cereal. You start to feel a little too much like a bum, so you decide it wouldn’t hurt to do some laundry that has piled up after the last three weeks or to finish sending out some applications to graduate schools.

One week later.

You wake up, eat some oatmeal, (in your rush to make changes, even your breakfast gets a makeover. Besides who wants to eat Life everyday.) and get dressed. It finally hits you that your undergraduate life is over and its time to get real. This realization comes from the ridiculous feeling of uselessness that comes with laying on the couch for 4 weeks. You decide to get a job. Not just any job. Your dream job. It’s gotta be out there.

Three days later.

You wake up, eat some cereal (because some things just don’t stick), and get dressed. You head to the computer to look again for a job that is somewhat, remotely related to your degree or experience. You decide you are too good for a part time job and that you are unqualified for any of the listed full-time jobs.  (Irony?)

Three days later.

You wake up, eat some cereal (in bed) and continue to lay in bed. You decide you must warn others of this terrible occurrence (once you realize it fully) by writing a ridiculously long blog about looking up to the top of the mountain.

Welcome to the life of an unemployed bachelor of the arts!

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Hello Tomatoes

Or why we should run our spaceships on Vitamin A

As promised, here is a fictional piece I have been working on over the last few weeks. Still doing some tweaking to it but enjoy!

***

Tomatoes and Ragalin

Dr. Stephen Harris is the inventor of the Micron3000, the world’s strongest hand held telescope and the Space3000, the world’s fastest space ship. His desire to learn more about outer space pushed him to develop new technology for mirrors and lenses, which allowed him to see far away planets, and new forms of fuel for the Space3000. The Micron3000 has opened doors for all scientists. When focused properly, the user can see every planet in our solar system in such detail that science never thought possible while allowing the portability of a kids telescope. Dr. Harris was an avid member of SFDP, Scientists For Dwarf Planets, and protested in favor of keeping Pluto listed a planet in our solar system. He was even arrested at one point for blocking all entrances to NASA with large Pluto replicas. His charges were dropped after several scientists testified that he was mentally ill. He spent two years at Napa State Hospital. Dr. Harris was finally released after doctors agreed he would do no harm to others. Dr. Harris went on studying alone and eventually was credited with discovering life on Pluto. He is also credited for coining several Plutonian words. For nine months, he watched the Plutonians, writing down their features and habits. The following are a few of his journal entries discovered in his former home in California, written about his discovery and inventions. Because of his previous mental history, scientists argue as to what facts are true in these entries. After this period, he decided to try out the Space3000 in order to go live on Pluto, abandoning Earth as his home.

***

March 12:

Plutonians are fascinating creatures. Their bodies, circular in form, have hair covering their entirety. Their hair is thick and course to keep them warm, like a fur coat, in such a cold climate. The hair color seems to change periodically based mostly on Pluto’s position to the sun. When Pluto is nearest the sun, it is a shade of golden orange, but as Pluto rotates further away, it fades to a shade of sky blue. The males’ hair is always darker than the females’ hair. They have only two arm-like extremities, which don’t seem to have sockets but can rotate in any way. Because they do have such thick hair, Plutonians rarely wear outer clothing like us. On special occasions, the females wear Crintos that are red in color and are made from weaves of fluben, or flowers, that have been dipped in red mud and hung to dry. Crintos are tight fitting and have an opening for the face and arms. The men wear similar outfits called Broks. The only difference is these are made with white fluben and cover only the bottom half of their bodies. Instead of walking up right, they simply roll to move. From what I can see, they do have eyes and mouths which they carefully close and open as they roll on the rocky terrain. Their eyes are similar to ours except they have a wider variety of colors. I have even seen some Plutonians with purple eyes! Although I cannot hear them, they seem to be able to speak with each other.

***

March 23:

Today, the Plutonians are working on a new building. Pluto only has three major buildings, which stand together, like a mini city. The creatures don’t leave their homes often and only visit these larger buildings on certain days. The rocks on Pluto soften if immersed in ragalin (a water-like substance only found on this planet) and can be molded into shapes, similar to molding thick grey concrete. This is how the Plutonians make their buildings. The buildings are usually dome shaped. If I had to guess, I would say the first one, the tallest, light green building, is used for religious purposes. Outside, there is a statue of what looks to me like a large Plutonian male with dark hunter green hair. They take turns gathering to this place once every Earth day; the average Pluto day lasts about a week in Earth time. Each gets a few minutes alone with the statue. The second is the middle building and is a dark red in color. The third is the smallest. It is yellow. I cannot seem to figure out what these two buildings are for. The Plutonians come and go with no regularity to these places. However, the current building project seems to be taking the shape of a heart, a blend of curves and straight lines.

***

May 11:

After much frustration with my telescope, I have finally got the lenses corrected. I have also gotten the SuperSonicEar piece to work, which has enables me to hear the noises through out the community. Now I am also able to see Pluto even more closely, giving me the ability to peer through the cracks of their buildings and into their homes. Their voices vary is pitch and sound but tend to be low. Although I cannot understand their language, Plutogalin, it seems to rather advanced. They don’t just grunt sounds together like I originally believed, but in words. These creatures eat some sort of jello-like substance, meaning it has a bouncy quality to it, called boungle. They eat this for all their meals, but the color of the substance changes depending on the time of day. In the morning, it is a bright lime green and in the night it is a royal purple. The substance is made with ragalin and a powdered flavoring. The shape of the food also changes through out the week. Sometimes it is a round shape while, other times it is cut into squares. Rarely, their boungle is cut into the shape of a star. They seem to have family units very similar to ours. They travel and live in small groups. Examining one home, I found a family, one adult male, one adult female, and two small females, eating together at a circle shaped table made out of ragalin dipped stones also. After the food was gone, I watched the mother play with her child, picking her up and tossing her in the air, catching her small body on the way down.

***

June 3:

Lately, I have spent my days working on my Space3000. Its pod shape is much thinner and lighter than traditional spaceships, giving it the ability to travel faster. I have abandoned jet fuel. The machine runs too fast for jet fuel and it cannot withstand long distances. The machine gets most of its energy through solar power, but I still need a secondary fuel for when the sun is not visible to the ship.  I think I have discovered the perfect source, tomatoes. Tomatoes are easy to grow and abundant now that Gromatoes have been invented. Gromatoes are chemically engineered tomatoes that can withstand extremely high and low temperatures due to their high fat content. Gromatoes will not work for the Space3000 since the fatty oils get stuck in the system. However, I am certain that regular tomatoes will be perfect. They have high levels of vitamin A, which I can convert into a fuel almost three times as powerful as jet fuel and lasts ten times longer. I am also crafting a suit for the ship as well as for the cold climate of Pluto and an oxygen producer. I have also thought about the food I will bring along for the duration of the flight. I will probably bring Twinkies and Ramen as both seem fairly indestructible. I am looking forward to leaving this place behind. As far as the Plutonians go, I am starting to think they know I am listening.

***

August 17:

Things have been very busy lately as I prepare for my voyage to Pluto. The Plutonians are far more complex that I could have ever thought. They have been transferring messages to me through satellites. Although I cannot understand everything they say, I am getting better at learning Plutogalin and they are getting better at learning English. The main Plutonian, Frasin has been telling me all about how to get to Pluto and the perfect times to come so as to use the least fuel. I was shocked to learn that many Plutonians used to come to Earth and study us. It wasn’t until major scientist discredited Pluto as a planet that they stopped coming. They would stay in rural unpopulated areas, like Antarctica, as to not be discovered. I leave for my journey in three days and it will take me 327 days to get to Pluto is all goes at planned.

***

August 20:

Dear Earth,

I do not know what will happen to me on my voyage but I am prepared to confront the unfamiliar. Some day I may return but it is unlikely since I have made such a connection with these creatures. There is nothing left for me on Earth but I am so much to looking forward to this journey and a new life away from here. The only thing I fear is my dislike for jello, (hopefully boungle is better than jello!). My bags are packed with puffy winter coats to keep me from the cold and silk scarves to give as gifts. My Space3000 is lined with juicy, red tomatoes and packages of Twinkies. I leave this journal for someone to discover and tell, not my story, but the story of my beloved Plutonians.

Sincerely,

Stephen Harris

***

Dr. Harris never returned and has not attempted to make contact with Earth. Scientists still debate whether he ever made it to his destination.

-Written By Caren Starry-

 

Currently listening to: She Ain’t Right- Lee Brice

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Hello Miscellaneous

Or why I can’t wait for my birthday

With this semester coming to a close, I have been super busy finishing up papers and trying to use my free time to hang out with friends who will be graduating in a few weeks. I am currently re-working a short fiction piece right now that will soon be ready for blog post.

As a side note: I am thrilled to be going to the Coheed & Cambria show in Austin next week. It will be bliss. Thanks for the birthday present Bryan.

Also, just wanted to say congrats to Sagebrush Review on their recent publication.

So this post isn’t a total waste- here are a few mixed media things I have been working on this semester.

Happy Hour

Aces

-C

Currently listening to: At Last by Eva Cassidy

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