Manic Frustration “If I do not write to empty my mind, I go mad.” ~Lord Byron

Those of you who know me or who have followed this blog know that I'm a bit of an obsessive music hoarder. I've been collecting tunes for years, hosted my own radio show in college, and venture out to see as many performances as possible. It's been a while since I've contributed to the musical scene myself, but now things have changed.

Recently, I've begun writing (and editing) for an up-and-coming music site called Axis of Metal. Rather self explanatory, it's a site devoted to all genres of metal. I've listened to its various forms for years, now, and it's refreshing to be able to extend my writing into various other areas that I enjoy just as much as poetry and prose.

As far as everything else goes, I've been in a bit of a rut lately. The writing has been coming slow, but it's still there. I keep speaking about my manuscript. It's going to get finished. Even if I have to chain myself to this desk and slam my head across the keys of my typer...it will happen.

This year's first Prose in Pubs is taking place this coming Sunday, the 24th. Featuring Write Bloody poet Jon Sands and extraordinary, local poet friend of mine, Eric Wilson, this is going to be an incredible PiP. If you're in the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre area, or anywhere close, this Sunday, stop by Jack's Draft House on the corner of Gibson and Prescott in Scranton at 4 p.m. Grab a bear and take a listen.

Next weekend I'm off to see Buddy Wakefield perform. There are no words right now. I'm far too excited to think of them. As if that were not enough, Andrea Gibson will also be coming to Scranton in May to perform. This year is already chalk full of amazing.

Til next time.

Cheers

A new year means more writing and much more reading. Last year, I squeezed in 32 books. I even had time to review some of them on Goodreads. That site has been extraordinarily helpful with finding new reading material. Books I never would have found have been suggested to me or I've found them by chance. My "to read" list grows by the day. Below is what I devoured in 2012 with links to reviews, if I happened to write one, and where you can pick it up.

Recently, my new poem, entitled "Passerine", was accepted for publication in the October 2012 issue of Full of Crow Poetry. Full of Crow Poetry is edited by Lynn Alexander who I had the pleasure of receiving a personal correspondence from after submitting. Lynn collects and eclectic mix of poetry from all over the world for Full of Crow Poetry and you can check out the rest of the submissions, as well as mine, at this link: Full of Crow Poetry October 2012

For information about submissions, visit the Full of Crow submission page here.

There's a storm blowin' in. Sometime. At least that's what they say. I'm not particularly worried, though. I've weathered the storms before. All kinds of them. Some of them worse than others. They say this one is a big one. Panic and scrambling people clearing the shelves of milk and eggs. All I grabbed this morning was some coffee and tea.

Lauren Zuniga @ the Vintage Theater

Lauren Zuniga and the Breaking Ground Poets

Truly incredible teachers sometimes seem hard to come by. At least for me, they did. I always admired and respected those who broke away from the norm. Those who challenged me. Who made me think. I didn't want to do anything for teachers who seemed like they didn't want to do anything for me. 

The Breaking Ground Poets’ mission is to inspire, foster, and promote artistic expression, personal growth, and social justice for youth in our collective communities through the use of the spoken and written word.

Our goal is to engage young people in workshops, events, and mentorship across Northeast Pennsylvania.

Although we are a new organization, our goal this year is to develop and foster young people’s capacity in creative writing, public speaking, emotional literacy, and civic engagement. We will use the transformative power of storytelling and each individual’s voice to help build a stronger community of teenage writers.

Work days have been slow. Excruciatingly so. I've found myself reading random snippets of news. Searching unknown poets. Researching odd topics. Today, I found myself reading children's stories from an old book on Google books.

I've never got into "creating" found poetry. To me, found poetry just seems to be the art of extreme editing rather than writing. Chopping away every ounce of fat from the words of previous writers to boil down the story into a pure, concise form. For this, though, it seems useful. One thing I've always had trouble with, and I'm sure most writers do, is knowing when to cut the fat from your work. Our words are our children and butchering them is never easy.

Below are a few "found" poems from the day's boredom.

There's been an absence of words here, but they're spilling out all over my desk. The floor. Pages and scraps of paper. I've begun work on a poetry manuscript. I've been revising old work and starting new. The season is new. The weather is new. My energy and mind are refreshed.

Busy days. Incredible nights. Weekends are always full of something. This weekend, Prose in Pubs swings back around to Jack's Draft House in Scranton on Sunday. Open mic. The first time it has gone non-invitation. It should be an interesting lineup. I'll be reading some new work. Stop on by.


The manuscript is coming along slowly but surely. It will be some time before I have a rough draft completed and probably some time after that until it is finalized and ready to send out. Then I'll find out that it is not yet finalized. Edit, submit, edit, submit. These are the hurdles of writing.

I've picked up my guitar again. Bought a glass slide to try and mimic Bukka White. It's coming along even slower than the manuscript, but it's a release of energy and creativity. It's needed when I cannot form the words. What better way to clear the mind by making music. Or noise. Sometimes I just like to strum and croon along with the old blues masters.

I've been tumbling some ideas for blog entries around my mind, so bare with me. Be patient. Not that you've been sitting on the edge of your seat waiting in anticipation for me. Maybe you have. I'd like to think you have.

Time to fill the apartment with music and the scent of whatever I feel like cooking. Until next time...

In early May, president Obama publicly voiced his support of gay marriage and the rights of gay Americans. This has obviously been met with backlash from the (religious) Right and supporters of the Defense of Marriage Act, which attempts to define marriage as that between a man and a woman and deny rights to gay couples under the guise of preserving the "sanctity of marriage".

...No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

Rest assured there will be those who point fingers and scream about the president and any politician who support gay rights and marriage trampling on the Constitution without actually acknowledging what is written within the document. (Hint: The constitution does not define "marriage" as between a man and a woman.)

Most of those fingers will be pointed from behind the pulpit and screamed between recitations of Leviticus 20:13 and various other Bible verses. This is not an attack on the religious but, I challenge you to prove me wrong, what other reasons are there to deny gay rights and marriage besides those of the religious Right? There are no reasons based in law or constitutionality that should prohibit this country from providing equal rights to the GLTB community.

Every argument spewed forth by supporters of DOMA and "traditional" marriage has been nothing but bunk and hysteria. From Bristol Palin's ironic assertion that "we know that in general kids do better growing up in a mother/father home. Ideally, fathers help shape their kids’ worldview," (source) to the incredibly moronic and baseless argument that interspecies marriages would result from granting gays the right to marry.



There is no logical reason to continue to deny a portion of our citizens their rights. The suppression of gay rights and marriage is nothing more than blatant, unconstitutional discrimination perpetuated by the religious lobby, alarmists, and extremists.

It's time the "pick and choose" view of right and wrong be exposed for what it really is. If the Right wants to point toward the constitution to uphold their rights to bear arms, then they must also point to the 14th amendment to guarantee the rights of all citizens. And, if the religious portion of this nation wants to point toward Leviticus to deny gay citizens their rights, then they must also point to Mark 10:9, Matthew 19:9, and any other verses pertaining to divorce and the "sanctity" of marriage.

If we are to truly honor the Constitution and what the founders of this nation set forth to grant its peoples, we mustn't deny any rights to any citizen. We cannot allow our laws to be filtered through a biblical sieve. We must remember the Declaration of Independence and its resounding call for the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That statement has, and will continue to be, the basis of this country's true greatness. However some may try to mar and tarnish it, we must continue to uphold that one perfect and pure idea.

We are all human. And as such, we are all entitled to happiness, love, and life. To deny anyone these rights is, truly, un-American. Who's really trampling the Constitution, then?

I'll leave you with an incredible performance from Andrea Gibson, poet and activist:

The jack-hammering tones of an air gun rattle through the shop just outside my office. Buddy Guy's licks flow from my computer speakers like a fine scotch. I've got a truckload of thoughts rolling down endless expanses of highway carved through my mind. Outside, it's a chilly, wet April day. Smoke-colored skies.

This morning, I woke up and sat down in front of the typer for the first time in what seems like years. The early hours, following what little sleep I seem to find these days, have become a window of inspiration. Words drip onto the page mimicking the coffee pot steaming in the kitchen. Eventually, the page and my cup are full.

I spend a brief time on our second-floor balcony most mornings. Every time I open the door to step out, I'm reminded of the need of a good chair to lounge in and soak up the morning sun while I let my thoughts pour out.

The itch. The need to write has embedded itself within me again. It's not that I was worried about losing it. It seems as though any writer finds themselves less than inspired from time to time. Or maybe we let our thoughts brew like moonshine through a still until they're pure. Whatever the case, the cask is full again.

Soon, I'll spend time wandering through the park in the fading light of dusk. These late-night work hours are coming to an end. I've got more important things to have running through my mind than the constant rattles and blasts of air tools and belching engine brakes.

One thought in particular has been filling me with warmth and peace. Every morning on the balcony, I can still picture her standing beneath the light leaning against the door. Smoke curling from between her lips. The soft look in her eyes and the elegant curve of her smile.

It's a photograph etched in my memory. One that I'm hoping is a glimpse of what lies ahead.

Tonight, I'll turn the key to my tiny pickup and drive forty-five minutes down the line. Step through the door of my apartment, wash the work day away, and find a few moments of relaxation before falling into a dream world.

In the morning, I'll write again.

Laura E.J. Moran @ Prose in Pubs Photo from Amye Archer

It was another exciting night at Prose in Pubs this past weekend. Not only was I able to be part of it, but, as always, the people I met, writers I listened to and good vibes I received were incredible. Friends from the Endless Mountain Writer's group, who meet every Thursday at the Dietrich theater in Tunkhannock, came out for moral support. New friends, who I'd met at the last reading in Hawley, PA, made a trip out as well.

My reading went well. Like the last, I shared new works with the crowd. They were received well and, at the end of the night, I was approached by someone telling me that some of my words had hit a connection him. For that alone, I am grateful for that night. For that moment where someone within the crowd caught my words and felt them as I did.

Dawn Leas, who I had heard read a few times before, was incredible. The way she frames her world within a poem, the imagery she paints for the reader or, in this case, the listener is vivid. Close your eyes, and you can see.

Gale Martin, one of the only novelists to read at Prose in Pubs as far as I can remember, read from her new book Don Juan in Hankey, PA. Hysterical. Her humor brings a whole new side to opera. Don Juan is the story of a small-town opera company who decide to stage a performance of Mozart's famous work to save their opera house from foreclosure. Just the idea of Don Juan performed in some rural, dirt road community is hilarious in itself but, the way Gale writes, brings a whole new level to the hilarity of the idea. Look for a review here as soon as I finish the book. If you cannot wait, check it out on Amazon. Link below.

The feature, Laura E.J. Moran, brought an excellent performance to Jack's Draft House with a mixture of laughs, heartache and, simply put, life.  Laura comes from the same poetic camp as past reader Jason Carney, who's work you can see in an earlier post. Her words are raw. Dusty in that real, worked way of hard work. Words chiseled using a sledgehammer and a bit of whiskey. Or, as Laura mentioned, lots of Pabst.

If you missed this Prose in Pubs or if you haven't attended one yet, you best get a move on. You're missing out on one of the most incredible nights in north east Pennsylvania. This isn't simply poems and prose. It's a night of connections. Of finding a corner of life that may be missing in your own. At the very least, come and have a drink. You've got nothing to lose.

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Please check out these links to learn more about the readers:
-Gale Martin's Don Juan in Hankey, PA
-Dawn Leas's site & her chapbook I Know When to Keep Quiet
-Laura E.J. Moran's site