Caffè Lena: A Look Back 20 Years (& Beyond)

Carol Graser, July 23, 2003

"It was 20 years ago today that Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play …"

On September 23, 2023 Caffè Lena, the venerable, historic music venue (opened in 1960) in Saratoga Spring, NY will celebrate 20 years of its poetry open mic. The organizer & host for all those years is poet Carol Graser. You can read more about history of Caffè Lena on its website, but my interest & focus for this Blog is on the history of the Poetry Open Mic.

This Blog that you are reading on now was started in January 2007, after a brief time on MySpace. But even before the advent of Blogs I was documenting the poetry/open mic scene in, & around, Albany, NY with my camera (well before the current scene where everyone has a camera in their pocket), & the attendant notes I kept. The hastily recorded, often illegible, notes that I scribbled in dark bars & coffee houses in my pocket notebooks were later transcribed into larger spiral notebooks, while the photos were developed from film, printed as black & white (mostly) 4x6 prints, annotated on the back, & stored alphabetically in 4x6 archive boxes. Thus the record of poetry events at that time, at least in my archives, consists of photos, i.e. prints, & my hand-written notebook entries; it does not exist online -- at least until now that I have added the record of this historic event to my Blog.

Carol Graser had been coming to some of the poetry events in & about Albany & when she announced that she would be starting a poetry open mic at Caffè Lena there was a collective consensus among the rest of us, hosts & participants, that we had to pack the house that first night so that the folks at Caffè Lena would realize that there were a lot of poets in the area who would even drive the 45 minutes or so up to Saratoga Springs to attend an open mic there.

I've attached here photos of my notebook entry for July 23, 2003 & you can see there 30 readers, with about 16 from Albany. In addition, one can clearly see in the photo of the crowd outside Caffè Lena Albany poets Mary Panza, Tess Lecuyer, Emily Gonzalez & Leo! Carol Graser was the host of that first open mic experiment, & the featured poet that night was Franklin Whitney as well as a strong showing from poets in & around Saratoga Springs.

This test was apparently a success, convincing the Caffè Lena board to continue with the open mic on a regular basis; the next Caffè Lena Poetry Open Mic was held a few weeks later on September 3, 2003, establishing itself in the 1st Wednesday slot where it has been ever since.

It should be noted that there had been a previous poetry open mics on the stage of Caffè Lena, but the only one I have documentation for was held on March 11, 1992, hosted by Franklin Whitney, who can be seen in the photo in the back row on the far left.

Caffè Lena will be celebrating the 20th anniversary of the Poetry Open Mic on Saturday, September 23, 2023 with a 4 hour open mic, hosted by Mary Panza, from 2:00PM to 6:00PM, followed by a reading later at 8:00PM with poets Martin Espada, Regan Good & Roger Wizen Smith. You can find out more about these events on the website.  Come celebrate Caffè Lena & celebrate Carol Graser for her long-run stewardship of the poetry open mic.

& the monthly open mic continues on the 1st Wednesday of each month at Caffè Lena, 47 Phila Street, Saratoga Springs, NY. Doors open at 6:30PM for open mic sign-up, a featured poet goes on at 7:00PM, which is live streamed, followed by the open mic. $5.00 donation. 

What Do You Say to a Poet About to Read?

We all know the expression “Break a leg” that is said to an actor about to take the stage. The equivalent for a ballet dancer is, translated, “Shit on the beach” (in French, equally graphic, it sounds to our English-speaking ears more elegant, exotic).

But what does one say to a poet about to give a reading? The expressions above (e.g., break a leg) are based on the magical premise that to wish someone “good luck” will actually bring bad luck. Thus to wish the opposite, “shit on the beach,” will bring a clean performance. What is the equivalent for a modern reader/poet?

At the recent Scissortail Creative Writing Festival in Ada, Oklahoma this came up as I wished encouragement for a reader about to take the stage & I wondered if “break a leg” would be appropriate. Someone suggested an alternative, “Don’t piss on the mic.” But according to magical theory that would cause the poet to actually piss on the mic, which of course one would not want for many reasons, electrical being only a very obvious one. Which then engendered the suggestion, “Piss on the mic.” 

How elegant. How obvious. How French. Piss on the Mic.

So, to all you open mic poets out there, or readers of fiction/non-fiction prose, or whatever you call it when we can’t see the line breaks, the next time one of your colleagues is about to take the stage & you want to wish them luck for their reading, don’t say “Break a leg”  —  be a poet, say “Piss on the mic!” They will thank you.

How to Zoom While Sitting Down

Zoom readings have changed the rules on conducting, & being at open mics, sometimes for the better, sometimes not, & sometimes just the same-old/same-old in a different format. I’ve been assembling some pointers for those just getting into this not-so-brave new world & offer these pointers based on my experience.

Don’t get there too early. In the pre-coronavirus days you could get to the bar, or coffee house, or gallery early, find a friend or two, hang out, gossip, it was part of what we did. On Zoom if you get there early it’s like getting early to a meeting at work & everyone is there & you have this group conversation that you’d rather not. Plus, on Zoom, most of the conversation ends up being about the difficulties folks had getting signed on, figuring out what they have to do, etc., & it’s all one big group-fuck conversation -- you can’t pick out that one person you really want to talk to & go off in the corner & flirt. In the category of “same-old/same-old,” one person at a recent reading who had problems getting on Zoom, & was much discussed by the organizers & I don't think ever got on, is also a person who has had perennial problems with sending out emails about his events with incomplete or wrong information — it ain’t the vehicle, it’s the nut who holds the wheel.  Of course you could get on Zoom early then mute the audio & video (see the next item) & go watch some TV until it is time for the reading to start -- sort of like hanging out at the bar watching a ball game before the reading.

Use the mute audio & the mute video button. They are along the bottom margin of the Zoom window, if you don’t see it move your pointer to the margin & it will appear. Mute your audio otherwise it is like the Tower of Babel, & mute your video if you need to pick you nose or step away to get a drink. Other useful tools along that margin include the chat function — you can send a message to everyone (why?), or to just the host (to let them know you want to sign up for the open mic), or to anyone else who has dialed in, many folks use this to comment on the poem.

Adjust your video.  Move your computer to move your camera so that your image is in the middle of the screen; I've seen poets reading so that the top of their head is all we see at the bottom of the screen — what you see is what others see so adjust the computer camera accordingly.

Play with the Virtual background. When you are signed in to Zoom you will see at the top left corner of your screen “zoom.com,” if you click on it there is a drop-down menu, click “Preferences.” You can do lots of things with the next drop-down menu “Settings.” Play around with it. You can even improve, “Touch up,” your appearance (under the “Video” option on the Settings menu). One choice is the Virtual background; there are pre-loaded backgrounds, so if your room is messy or you don’t want people to see where you are speaking from, choose a virtual background. You can also add photos from your own photo files to put you on a beach or a street corner, or, my favorite, in a bathroom. Click on the “+” sign, then select a photo from your own files. Have fun with it, even take some photos that you can use later.  Or you can just leave up your messy room with the cat puking on your desk as the background, it's up to you.

Read poems from your screen. Have your poems ready on your computer rather than loose pages strewn on your desk so that when you read you are looking straight ahead; others can’t see the text they just see you looking at your screen while you read, not the top of your head when you bend down to read the page.

Feel free to fuck-off.  Unlike in-person events where it’s rude to spend time on your phone checking emails, perusing Facebook, reading, even talking on the phone while the featured poet drones on & on, with Zoom, using the audio/video mute function, you can still be present, but folks won’t see or hear you while you talk on your cellphone, surf the internet, delete your emails, etc. You can even turn down (or mute) your computers audio so you don’t even have to hear them.  & if you fall asleep, no one can hear or see you snoring.

That said, if we were back at the Social Justice Center on the third Thursday for the open mic & you fell asleep, I wouldn't mind (in fact have done it few times) nudging you awake, it would be nice to have you there in person, awake or asleep.  Someday I hope.

Winners of the First New York State “Poetry Unites – My Favorite Poem” Contest Announced

Marie Howe, State Poet of the State of New York and Corinne Evens, a philanthropist, in coordination with the Academy of American Poets, the New York State Writers Institute, and the New York State Office of Cultural Education, are pleased to announce the winners of the 2014 Poetry Unites contest for the best short essay about a favorite poem. The winners of the contest, which was open to all New York State residents, are in alphabetical order:

Marita Boulos, literacy program coordinator from Rose Points, Clinton County, NY, for her straightforward and eloquent prose that candidly brings John Donne’s “Song” into her village.

Rosanna Oh, from Jericho, Long Island, a student, for her deeply personal response to the humility and precision in Robert Hayden’s “Those Winter Sundays.”

Matthew Powers, a teacher from Syracuse, NY, for the way he realistically invokes the incantatory and communal nature of poetry in Mark Strand’s “Lines for Winter.”

Paul White a healthcare provider from Cheektowaga, NY, for recognizing the talismanic power and healing capacity of poetry in David Ignatow’s “Sunday at the State Hospital.”

The winners will each be featured in short film profiles directed by Ewa Zadrzynska, which will be posted on Poets.org as well as the State Library, and NYS Writers Institute’s websites, and may be broadcast by public television across the United States. They will be awarded a Certificate of Merit and invited to a celebratory film screening on October 18, 2014 in NYC.

The Jury also awarded Certificates of Merit to six additional participants :

Helen Ruggieri, poet, from Olean, NY, for her essay on James Wright’s poem: “A Blessing”. Louis Altman, a lawyer from Albany, NY, for his essay on Wallace Steven’s poem “The Sense of Order.” Philip McCallion, Ph.D. from Albany, NY, for his essay on Seamus Heaney’s poem “Digging.” Sharon de Silva from Schenectady, NY, for her essay on Langston Hughes’ poem “Mother to Son.” Martin Mahler retiree from Brooklyn, NY, for his essay on Edna St. Vincent Millay’s poem: “Lament.” Ben Kroup, editor, writer, from Waterford NY, for his essay on Kristtijonas Donelaitis’ poem “Metai.”

Each of their essays will be published on the Academy of American Poets website.

The New York State Poetry Unites contest is based on a model that has been held successfully in Europe. Developed and produced by Ewa Zadrzynska for the Evens Foundation, the first “Poetry Unites – My Favorite Poem” contest was held in Poland in 2008, where it has since become an annual event. In 2012 the Evens Foundation extended the contest to other European countries. So far the contest has been held twice in Germany, five times in Poland, and once in Bulgaria.

Ewa Zadrzynska, who produces the short films of the winners talking about their favorite poem said, “The project, which celebrates the integrating power of poetry, introduces the medium as an instrument of mutual understanding in the world. The goal is to promote poetry and poetry readers in the hope that their enthusiasm will be contagious to thousands, if not millions, of others.”

Out of the 124 essay submission 18 were written about Robert Frost poems, and four on Mary Oliver’s. Edna Vincent St Millay, Langston Hughes, and William Butler Yeats poems were the subject of three essays each. Other poets chosen by the NYS residents were written by Elizabeth Bishop, Shane Koyczan, Wallace Stevens, and John Donne, among others.

Among the 124 favorite poems of the NYS residents, only two were written in other than English language, and were read in translation. The poems were written by Polish Nobel Prize winners: Wislawa Szymborska and Czeslaw Milosz.

Seventy percent of the submissions were from women. The youngest participant was 10, the oldest 95.

The largest number of entries came from the Albany area and NYC.

This is my entry, an essay in the form of a poem:

BELIEVE, BELIEVE

an Homage to the Poem by Bob Kaufman

Believe in this, the nuns would tell us
then tell us what to believe.
As I read, discovered poetry
the dead poets, the living poets
Kerouac, Ginsberg, Gary Snyder,
the black, Buddhist Bob Kaufman
wandering in a vow of peaceful silence
his Golden Sardines conveniently fit
in the patch pocket of my corduroy jacket
along with a notebook & a ball-point pen
I found what to believe — poetry
radiating young breast, the image of peace
in the mushroom time, beliefs for me
not the sick controllers, not the Drill Sergeants
the Priests or the Bosses infesting 
society’s garments telling me what
to think, what to believe, but me believing.
In New York City, walking to the Tin Palace
the night sidewalk was torn into intricate shreds
with the glitter of broken glass, then put
back together again among the musicians
& poets & artists at the bar.
Sometime between the nuns & now
I found this prayer of a poem to recite
on my walk to work each morning
through the Park trying not to hear
the screechings mouthed in mildewed editorials
when I reached my desk
& over the years I continue to let the voices
of dead poets ring loudly in my ears
& the voices of live poets around me
the young poets in this City of poetry
creating the music of this new century
standing vigils, marching for peace
still rising above the mushroom time.
He says it twice, “Believe,” so that
you are sure to hear it — & believe.

An Anthology of the Albany Vortex

… or, everything on the internet is forever, including things that were not ever on the internet.

My first foray (second, actually) into small-press publishing was An Anthology of the Albany Vortex, published by Bert Schultz's Cominsane Press in 1973. I served as editor of this collection of poems & other adolescent musings by myself, Charles Dugan, Joe Figel, Hugh O'Connor & Bert Schultz. The collection was centered on (& inspired by) a mimeographed zine, Naitnecniv that Charlie, Joe & I had produced in high school & that was subsequently banned ("squashed" actually) by our school principal. In recent years I've read my introduction from the book that describes this incident at Banned Books Readings sponsored by the local ACLU chapter.  I think it's still a good read & has held up well over time.

Recently Bert sent me this link from Google Books: here  -- note the generic graphic for our cover art. If you click through the Amazon links you will find there is one copy for sale from Jeff Maser, Bookseller  for $25.00 (!).  Hell, they sold for $5.00 in 1973 money -- & Bert tells me he still has a box of them left.

If anyone out there wants a copy, email me & I will put you in touch with Bert Shultz. Then I guess you can turn around & sell it on eBay for $25.00 -- Good Luck!

Metroland Readers' Poll, 2013

Imagine my surprise to wake Thursday AM to a message from Thom il papa Francis that Mary Panza, R.M. Engelhardt & I had won the top 3 spots in the 2013 Metroland Annual Readers' Poll for "Best Poet". Then it dawned on me, I had not voted. I mean, I didn't even know to vote. Somehow I missed the Metroland issues with the ballots -- actually, I think I've missed the last 6 months of Metroland, that's how irrelevant ole Metrobland has become to my life.

Those of you who are regular readers of this Blog will know that I annually (anally?) parse the results of the poll to determine how the voting came about. But this year I blew it. I didn't even realize the voting had begun. It slipped by me, was under the radar, I didn't notice, just plain forgot.

The results this year were that Rob & I tied for 2nd place, with Mary Panza on top (as we like her to be) in 1st place. The 3 of us have been circling about the Readers' Poll for years, with the occasional flash-in-the-pan non-poets inserting themselves randomly in the list now & then. It proves the point that I've made year after year that it takes only a handful of votes to make the list. & as I've also said, each year I vote early & often for R.M. Engelhardt, so if I had voted this year as I had in the past there would be no tie: Rob would be #2 & I #3. Whatever.

But congratulations to us all, for if nothing else than for living long enough to become this 3-way of Albany poets (hmm?).

Now, as I do each time I appear on this list, I wonder where is my token? (as they once said in New York City about awards, "that & a token will get you on the subway").

Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera & Me

Not really -- I never played baseball with them -- but over the Christmas holidays when my son Jack got inspired to clean out his old bedroom (now the "Andy Warhol Guest Room") he found some old scorecards from baseball games we attended in the 1990s. That was when the local minor league team was the Albany-Colonie Yankees, who played at Heritage Park out near the Albany County Nursing Home & the Airport.  Now, Spring Training has begun & baseball, happily, is back in the news.

I like to keep score when I go to baseball games; it helps me to pay attention to what is going on & not be distracted (too much) by the beer, hotdogs & fans around me. Archivist that I am, I dutifully stick the scorecards in a file -- & forget about them.

The program, scorecard, & roster that Jack found were from a game on June 30, 1994, between the Binghamton Mets & the Albany-Colonie Yankees. I wasn't keeping a diary at that time so I don't know who I was with, but conceivably it would have been Grandpa (John Dugan), probably Jack, & maybe my wife, Mary, & daughter Madeleine. When you look at the scorecard you will see that the 2nd batter was "D. Jeter," playing shortstop. The starting pitcher, who went 9 innings, was "Mariano Rivera."  Of course, at the time I had no idea the stars they would become; then they were just another player's name on the scoreboard, & I was trying to get the correct spelling, pay attention to how the play went, & not spill my beer (I taught my sons & daughters how to keep score so they could take over while I went to the bathroom).

According to my hasty jottings, Jeter struck out twice, flyed out to right field & walked twice. Rivera struck out 4 & gave up 5 hits & 2 runs. His opposing pitcher on the Mets (whose name I did not write down), in 6 innings struck out 8, & they were winning 2 - 0 when he was taken out. Unfortunately we must have left after the 10th inning with the game tied 2 - 2 (either the kids were tired, or maybe Grandpa was too) because I didn't record a final score & who won.

Another interesting note is that the 1994 Yearbook has a picture of another future big league Yankee, Andy Pettitte, whose name does not appear on the printed roster that came with the scorecard. Minor league players do get moved around a lot.

The Albany-Colonie Yankees are no longer the home team, replaced by the Diamond Dogs & now by the Tri-City Valleycats who play in Troy at the stadium located at Hudson Valley Community College.

I don't get to Major League games very often, but I do like seeing the local teams play -- you are closer to the action, the tickets are inexpensive, as is the food & the beer. And, who knows, you may see future Major Leaguers play, even future Hall of Famers. Go out & support your local teams.

Go ValleyCats!

My NaPoWriMo: Update (2)

On the eve of the start of AlbanyWordFest, I thought I had better write an update on my April assignment of reading a poet a day before next week when I will be posting frequently on the shenanigans & might not have time to.

My first post on this process brought me up to April 7.  April 8 was Easter so I selected Thomas Merton as my poet, both as an appropriate choice for Easter & to counter the overly self-conscious experiments of e.e. cummings in 1x1 (not my favorite of his books). Merton's work is more discursive, meditative, a poet I've carried with me since my High School days. I carried him over to Easter Monday as well.

April 10 found me reading Time & Money by William Matthews, mainly because the book had been perched on my book shelf for a long time. How could I not love poems about baseball, 3 poems about Mingus, a poem about Monk? They are also discursive, conversational with enough of the dark side of poetry to be poetry. He was the kind of poet I would've liked to have had a chance to sit down with for a long talk over a beer, or whiskey, but, alas, he died too soon at 55 in 1997.

Amy Clampitt's book A Silence Opens has also been teetering on my bookshelf for years so I turned to it on April 11. A switch in tone from Matthews & Merton to a more lapidary poetry, stretching for the musical, exotic word. I also realized today that this little notebook in which I am recording my readings will serve as a reading list in the future for those poets I want to return to & read at greater length & depth.

On April 12 I read Donald Lev's new book, A Very Funny Fellow (NYQ Books, 2012). The poems are mostly short, half-page notebook jottings so I got through the whole thing. Watch for a full review on this Blog site sometime soon.

The works by & about H.D. (1886 - 1961) take up almost 6 inches on my bookshelf, including Barbara Guest's biography, Herself Defined, & I have read others, such as a second biography, from the library. I read mostly from the Selected Poems & the introduction by Louis L. Martz, but also read in Trilogy, a copy from Ted Adams' library, with his handwritten notes in the back, including a phone number for a cholesterol screening. Born at the end of the 19th Century, H.D. lived through 2 Word Wars & sought help from Sigmund Freud. As a young poet she was wooed by a youthful Ezra Pound. She progressed on to become one of the early (can one say "seminal"?) feminist poets of the 20th Century.

For today (April 14) I settled on Langston Hughes, mainly as a result of a Blog by George Wallace about Hughes' poems about the Spanish Civil War. More on that next time.

CATHERINE MARY CONNOLLY, A/K/A MAINSHEETGIRL, 1969-2012

Catherine Connolly, at the QE2, 1991

Sadly, I just learned this today -- another member of our poetry community has gone to that big open mic in the sky. Below is the obituary appearing online; please go to the site & read the touching story there.

Catherine Connolly, at Borders, 1995

I first met Catherine when she was a young poet reading at the QE2 in 1991 & later at other venues around the area, such at the Boulevard Bookstore, Borders, the Palais Royale, Caffe Dolce in Troy, & others. I'm including 2 photos from those days, but sadly have no shots of her since her return to this area a few years ago.






Catherine Mary Connolly sailed away from this Earth on the evening of April 5, 2012, surrounded by her family and wrapped in all of her quilts. Her 42 years were filled with innumerable adventures, far more than most others would ever hope to enjoy.

Catherine had an incredible spirit, and each day she would awaken to impulsively choose the best that life had to offer. She loved to sleep late and never once met an alarm clock that she liked.

For more than four decades, she smiled, wrote poetry, traveled, drank, smoked, sailed, and spent every dime she ever earned. Catherine was generous, compassionate, and kind to all, except for people who ticked her off, and was well loved by scores of family members, friends and co-workers. She had a spontaneous wit, which was largely unedited, and would poke fun at anyone and anything. To say that she was irreverent is a huge understatement.

Catherine was a graduate of Clayton A. Bouton Junior-Senior High School in Voorheesville, New York. She then took seven years to earn a four-year degree in English and Women’s Studies from the University at Albany.

Catherine was a world traveler, having lived in England, where she worked on an archaeological dig. She lived in the Pacific Northwest and Corpus Christi, Texas, aboard her beloved boat, Madrona. She also lived in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida; Beaufort, North Carolina; and New York City, before returning to her hometown of Voorheesville, New York.

Catherine had countless friends all over the world, including the insane crew on Sailing Anarchy, many of whom she had never met in person. Her last wish was that people would remember her for her poetry, her compassion and kindness, and her humor.

She is survived by her parents, Kenneth J. and Diane Connolly, of Voorheesville, her sister, Christine Tolbert and brother-in-law, Doug, and nieces Molly and Audrey, and nephew, Alan of Shippensburg, Pennsylvania; her brother, Kevin Connolly, and sister-in-law, Megan, nephews, Zachary and Ethan, of Altamont; nephew Carson Adams, of Clifton Park; and niece Cloe Leininger, nephew-in-law Anthony, and great-niece Olivia, of Fort Lewis, Washington.

Catherine was fearless, and her final act while on this Earth was to smile before taking her last breath. Whatever she saw coming her way must have been absolutely wonderful. Look for her when you get there, she’ll be the one having a really good time.

As an avid reader and writer, it would have given great joy to Catherine to know that anyone who wishes honor her love of the written word would please give to the Voorheesville Public Library at 51 School Street, Voorheesville, New York, 12186.

As a thrill-seeking sailor, Catherine also found pleasure in sharing the joy of the wind and water with others, and anyone who wishes to honor her spirit of adventure would please give to the Spike Perry Memorial Scholarship Fund.org. The fund will provide scholarship money for deserving students from the Perry's hometown waters to learn more about sailing, seamanship and the region's rich maritime traditions.

A gathering of family and friends will be held on Saturday, April 14, 2012, from 2:00 p.m. to 5 p.m. at the American Legion Post 1493, at 31 Voorheesville Avenue, Voorheesville, New York. All are invited to join us to celebrate Catherine’s brief but remarkable life.

My NaPoWriMo: Update

Just so you know I'm still working at, I figured I'd better post something on my progress. Not sure this was a good idea, a poet-a-day. It reminds me of those survey courses in college where you didn't mind breezing through some minor/minor poet you'd never read again, but also had to breeze through that poet you really wanted to bed down with. But it's becoming useful just to work through the pile of poetry books I've accumulated recently (& not so recently). & I've actually written a few drafts of poem, having nothing to do with the poets I'm reading.

Sonia Sanchez, February 2000

As I've already reported April 1 was Adrienne Rich, April 2 was Robert Desnos. April 3 was Sonia Sanchez, her book Wounded in the House of a Friend (1995), that I bought at Busboys & Poets during Split This Rock. I also found in my archives photos of her taken when she read at the Writers Institute in February 2000, & actually read a couple poems that are in this book.

April 4 was Quraysh Ali Lansana who read recently in the Frequency North series at the College of St. Rose. I read his They Shall Run: Harriet Tubman Poems. But due to traveling on April 4 I actually finished his book on April 5, when I turned to Dorothea Tanning, & her book Coming to That: Poems (2011). I didn't know about her poems until I read her recent obituary. Check out her paintings & soft sculpture at her website. So she got a day & a half. April 7 is devoted to ee cummings, reading the late Ted Adams' old hardbound copy of 1x1.

Here's the poem:

Poem

I am walking downtown in a hoody

a beret, a leather jacket, not

a fashion statement, just practical.

I need to check my Mega Millions ticket

buy this week’s lottery, continue dreaming.

A woman at the bus stop is wearing

a fur coat, variegated white, tan

brown ripples in the breeze

this is real – she looks at me, but

I am walking in the opposite direction.

& find a watch in the middle of the

sidewalk, rectangle face, jewel bracelet

I hope no one will step on it, that

whatever this wrist it fell from

will come back, retrace her steps, say

“here it is,”

               & the fur coat will arrive home.

For NaPoWriMo, my version

Although I did publish a chapbook last year of poems written during a month of prompts, Poeming the Prompt (A.P.D.), I'm not one for this form of assignment, mainly because I don't like doing something because everyone else is doing it. But I know it works for some writers, & there is value in having a task & working at completing it. So I came up with my own version of NaPoWriMo.

For the month of April I will be reading/studying a different poet each day. If this (or anything else in my day) inspires a poem then I will write it. I am keeping a small notebook to record what I've read & anything I write. For April 1st, my poet was Adrienne Rich, who died last week at the age of 82. I'd been reading her work over the weekend & did a tribute at the Poetry + Prose open mic at the Arts Center on Sunday.

On Monday my poet is Robert Desnos (1900 - 1945).

& here's a little surprise fragment from Sunday afternoon:

in the rain, obviously
like tears, & a time
to speak pledges,
dinner, the richness
of cheese, pasta the
wine filling empty
glasses left over
how we got through
the Winter, with me
with you, & now rain

Split This Rock -- The People

Thurgood Marshall Center

One of the joys of this Split This Rock Festival that is beyond the price of admission is meeting, & re-meeting, & then talking with other participants, presenters or audience -- we are all poets here. I’ve been to all 3 of these Festivals & my circle of friends has grown & grown. Even if it is 2 years since I’ve seen them, when I meet a friend from a past Split This Rock Festival it is with great joy & warmth, a hug, a kiss, & a big smile. That's what I'm here for, as much for the conversation, the words.

This year there was yet another Albany poet hanging out at Split This Rock, Carolee Sherwood. Our tastes in panels & workshops were decidedly different so we didn't share much, but we enjoyed the readings in the evenings together, had lunch a couple of times at Busboys & Poets, & an occasional drink in the evening.  I hope she enjoyed it even half as much as I did.

Sarah Browning, Executive Director

Another poet with a looser connection to Albany was Yael Flusberg, a DC resident & member of the Board of Directors who combines writing & yoga in her work & has many (woman) friends in the Capital District through the IWWG.  I had attended Yael’s workshop on yoga & poetry at the first Split This Rock. Susan Brennan was back this year; she had read poetry in her younger days in Albany at the QE2, still has family in the area & read in Poets in the Park in 2008. Another Poets in the Park reader (in 2009) who I ran into & had dinner with, & with Carolee, was Lori Desrosier, the editor & publisher of Naugatuck River Review. And there was Kazim Ali who as an undergraduate student at the University at Albany (then called SUNY Albany) read in Don Levy’s poetry series at the Albany Art Gallery on Jefferson St.

Jill Brazel doing her job.

Sharing images with my favorite ripped-knees photographer, my Canon-comrade from Chicago, Jill Brazel, has been a tradition for these Festivals -- we take pictures of each other year after year (is there a clinical psychological term for that?).

Of course there are the fabulous & beautiful folks who worked/work so hard to bring this Festival together each year, & who I am so glad to see every-other year: Sarah Browning, Melissa Tuckey, Alicia Gregory, Bob LaVallee, Jaime Lee Jarvis, & others from the Board & Planning Committee (Thanks for another great Festival).

Rachel McKibbens, Melissa Tuckey, Susan Brennan

& the folks I have met here for the first time & who knows when (if ever) I will see again, George from Madison, WI & Sonja de Vries, who I shared dinner with here back in 2010, from Kentucky (& who brought her sister his year), & countless others whom I flirted with at the bar at Busboys & Poets, or met at a workshop or reading or just hanging out waiting for someone to sign a book.  I'll see you in 2014.

Then there were the famous poets where we share a connection: Sam Hamill with my friend Charlie Rossiter in Chicago, Patricia Smith whom I interviewed in Albany, NY at Poets in the Park, Douglas Kearney who was snowed out from a reading in Albany, Georgia Popoff who was an early supporter of 3 Guys from Albany, & the countless others we really want to sit down with over beer or coffee & just talk & talk.

Words come from people & what we do is connect to people & so the words connect & the people connect & that's why we do this. Right?

Check it out at www.splitthisrock.org.

Metroland's Readers' Poll, March 8

An early harbinger of Spring, like that first crop of dandelions, is Metroland's Readers' Poll, from Best Car Wash to Best Poet. After years of dumpster diving, bribery & computer hacking to find out the actual final tallies for Best Poet (Metroland just tells you who wins, not how many votes anyone gets), I decided to make my life easier & do something different this year.

Metroland's Best Poet RM Engelhardt

But first -- Metroland's Readers Poll Best Poets for 2012 are: Colin Halloran, RM Engelhardt & Gary Murrow. Engelhardt has been on Metroland's Readers Poll as Best Poet since the category was created, & deservedly so for not only reading his poems at the occasional open mic, but for years of hosting his own open mics throughout the community, currently at the UAG Gallery on the third Monday of the month.

So then who are the other 2? My personal theory of this poll is that one becomes Best Poet the way one becomes Best Pizza: get the most votes. There is no criteria other than getting everyone you know to vote for the candidate of choice. One does not even have to be a poet to win Best Poet, or even to have ever read a poem in any of the Capital District's many poetry venues. I had planned for the last year to make this point, with the help of others in Albany's art community, with Gary Murrow, but  Colin Halloran snuck in & stole my thunder.

I go to lots of poetry open mics in the area; you can know exactly where I've been simply by following this Blog. But I have never heard of, or heard, Colin Halloran at any of the venues here. I do not have a photo of him in the 15,000 plus photos I have of unknown poets. There may indeed be a poet "Colin Halloran," & if so he's got a lot of friends in the Capital District, or at least enough to muster up at 1 more vote than RM Engelhardt. But if he's around here in April he can be one of the featured poets at AlbanyWordFest.

Now, as for Gary Murrow -- who is he? He is no one, he does not exist, but was "born", or at least his name was conjured up, last year after the Readers Poll came out, to prove my point about Best Pizza/Best Poet. His is a made-up name touted throughout the poetry & entertainment community solely for the purpose of getting in the Best Poet list on the Readers Poll. "Gary Murrow" may be on the Best Poet list, but he is not a poet, not even a person, he is just a name on a ballot. Want to be Best Poet? Don't waste your time writing poetry, just get all your friends to vote for you.

& thank you Colin Halloran for doubly helping me to make this point.

Maybe next year I will make up a fictional pizza place to win Best Pizza!

My Year of the Awards

I'm not sure what astrological conjunction brought this about. Perhaps it's just living long enough, but 2011 was the Year of the Award, for me. Actually it started with the December 27, 2010 roast at the Poets Speak Loud at McGeary's, sponsored by AlbanyPoets.com.  A.C. Everson/Breaking My Art's papier maché head from that night is still in a place of honor in my dining room.  I was about 40 when I had my first featured reading, which eventually inspired me to host an open mic (on the third Thursday, now at the Social Justice Center) at which I feature young poets (among others), often for their first featured reading, so I guess I've grown used to "late" honors -- Whatever.

As for readings this year, I was pleased to be asked to be one of the readers at the Scissortail Creative Writing Festival in Ada, Oklahoma in April.  In May, I was privileged to read with other veterans at the Kingston Universalist Congregation, then later in the month, again with fellow veterans, at the Harmony Cafe in Woodstock.  Later in the year I was part of the Puffin Poetry Jam for Peace in Teaneck, NJ with other members of Veterans For Peace.  In between I was featured with Eileen Abrizio, Jean-Yves Solinga & Elizabeth Thomas at the Harriet Beecher Stowe Center in Hartford at Poets Speaking Out for Social Justice.  I also read as part of the Paterson Literary Review launch of issue #39 in November in Paterson, NJ.  In September I had an exhibit of my photos of unknown (& famous) poets at the Arts Center of the Capital Region & a photo in the Photography Center's Member Show.

All that in itself was enough accolades for an aging poet/photographer, but there was also the awards. You know, when they come like this it makes one start to look over one's shoulder for that runaway garbage truck careening down the hill, right at your back.

Early in the year I had submitted poems to the Rip Van Winkle Poetry Award run by All Arts Matter out of Greenville, NY, & won 1st prize. The award was presented in August at the Greenville Public Library.  I've been a supporter of the Solidarity Committee of the Capital District & a subscriber to their newsletter since soon after I arrived back in the area many years ago & I was thrilled to be honored at their annual Labor Day picnic with the "2011 Peace & Poetry Award … in recognition of your work for peace and for bringing poets, poetry and the people together."  Another organization that I've been proud to be a part of, have done readings & reviews for their Tuesday noon events, has been The Friends of the Albany Public Library. On December 3 I was honored by a lunch sponsored by the Friends at the University Club for the Fall Book and Author Event, then a Question & Answer session in the APL's main auditorium.  Later in the month at the Sunday Four Poetry event I received the first Arthur Dare Willis Award for my "... contribution to poets and poetry" presented by the hosts of Sunday Four, Dennis Sullivan, Michael Burke & Edie Abrams.  

The point about these last 3 awards were that they were from the community, from people whom I respect greatly for the work they do & so their recognition for my work means all the more, that it is about what we do together, how we keep the community growing. I am humbled & honored to receive these awards & hope that this recognition will keep me working, & growing. We don't work for awards, we do what we do because we feel we have to, but the awards help buoy us up during those times we question if what we do is "worth it" -- it's always "worth it" just because we do it.  Thank you to all those involved in these community organizations.

I guess with all this behind me I can now continue on undistracted with the work that needs to be done: ending the war(s), working for economic justice & freedom, & helping to create the kind of artistic/poetic community that fosters those goals -- as well as having fun, living & loving -- & writing more poems.

 Take my hand, we're all in this together!  -- Happy New Year.

"Not to pull the shades down on what's happening next door..."

This is from a recent Paris Review interview with Adrienne Rich, on a topic I ponder often:

What are the obligations of poetry? Have they changed in your lifetime?

I don’t know that poetry itself has any universal or unique obligations. It’s a great ongoing human activity of making, over different times, under different circumstances. For a poet, in this time we call “ours,” in this whirlpool of disinformation and manufactured distraction? Not to fake it, not to practice a false innocence, not pull the shades down on what’s happening next door or across town. Not to settle for shallow formulas or lazy nihilism or stifling self-reference.

Nothing “obliges” us to behave as honorable human beings except each others’ possible examples of honesty and generosity and courage and lucidity, suggesting a greater social compact.

(Earlier in the inteview she takes issue with the interviewer's posing the dichotomy of "political" v. "personal."  Here's the link to the full interview:)
http://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2011/03/02/adrienne-rich-on-%E2%80%98tonight-no-poetry-will-serve%E2%80%99/

A Guide to Writing from Prompts

There's a good reason that "April is the cruelest month" & it's Poetry. The general level of worry & angst among poets is rising now that we are in National Poetry Month, or as some call it, Write a Bad Poem Every Day from Prompts Month (NaWriPoPromMon).

It used to be that poets would wander the streets at night, or hike the woods, or take drugs, or fall in love in order to find things to write about. Now the internet makes it possible for poets to be bombarded by prompts for writing poems without getting mugged, or eaten by a bear, becoming a drug addict or getting your heart broken (again). Many sites list topics, phrases, words or other suggestions/assignments for writing a poem every day of April. A couple notable sites are NaPoWriMo.net, & Big Tent Poetry (which the rest of the year provides weekly prompts); just search "poetry prompts" on the internet & see what you get.

Certainly there is nothing wrong with providing ideas for people to write about to hone their literary skills, to keep the practice of writing alive. But you know how some folks can be, those raised in school systems (or religions, or households) that train you to do what you are told, to work hard everyday! It's actually an extension of our toilet training: "Mommy come here, look what I just did in the toilet." Prompts are like the laxative of writing for those that can't poop, I mean poem.

Having done this myself on occasion (I mean, writing from prompts, I have no trouble pooping), I've learned a few tricks to ease the anxiety of meeting the prompt deadline. I've actually used each of these at one time or another & nobody was the wiser, until now.


DWx's Top Tips for Anxiety-Free Writing from Prompts

• Write really long poems, you can put lots of stuff in them; just look at "Song of Myself" or "Howl," how many prompts each of them could fulfill.
• Look for the prompts in famous poems, then steal them. The work is already done for you, you just have to read.
• Take a series of prompts & string them together & call it a "Found Poem."
• Take any old poem of your own & change a word or line just enough to fulfill the prompt.
• Add a line that fulfills the prompt to the poem you write, whether it makes sense or not, claim that you are imitating John Ashbery.
• Write anything you want, then when you post it claim that it's fulfilling this or that prompt; those who read it won't care, they will just think they don't get it.

So, poets of the World, relax! Enjoy April, watch the flowers' shoots coming up, rake the lawn &  get poeming.

Metroland's Readers' Poll 2011

Once again this year, folks, here is the real skinny behind this annual mutual stroke fest known as Metroland's "Readers' Poll". I had realized after last year's dumpster dive to retrieve the raw data on the voting for Best Poet that there must be a high-tech way of doing this to avoid coming out smelling like the OH Bar on Saturday night. So I found a 20-something cyber-savvy Blogger (she's got like 6 Blogs going at once) & asked her to help me hack into Metroland's computers, but it cost me. Of course that means I got everything (including some interesting personal emails, I think what the media calls "sexting").

For those of you who haven't seen this week's issue of Metroland, the readers' pick for "Best Poet" was once again Mary Panza, with R.M. Englehardt in the #2 slot (or under Mary), & the third slot was cyperspace entity KC Orcutt. As far as I can tell, this person has never been out in the Albany poetry scene, at least using that name, since I don't have a picture of her, but that's OK. Anyone can be Best Poet, you only need a couple votes to win, as the data from Metroland shows.

So here it is, the final tally:
KC Orcutt got 2 votes, probably her's & her mother's. RM Engelhardt got 3 votes (2 were mine because once again this year I voted for him twice; obviously the 3rd vote was Rob's own vote for himself). [Note to Rob for next year: cheat -- send in ballots with phony names/addresses, etc. You can beat Mary next year if you do.]

Mary Panza got 4 votes, enough to win, but not the huge numbers like some years in the past. I think it was because she lost some of her cousins' & nephews' votes because they got swept up in the FBI raids on the Mafia in the past months, & were too involved with lawyer meetings to vote. So if Rob wants to win next year I suggest that in addition to cheating (see above), he uses some of his connections to get the cops to arrest more of Mary's family. Of course, who knows, maybe KC Orcutt will do the same thing & then we'll have a real horserace.

For me, I'm glad I didn't make the list this year. I'm tired of calling Metroland's office trying to get my CDTA Swiper Card. As my father used to say about the Best Of, "That & a swiper card will get you on the bus." So to this year's winners all I can say is I hope you get your swiper card, because I'm still waiting for mine.

(If anyone out there is interested in the numbers for any of the other categories, just let me know & maybe I can help you out.)

New Year Butterfly

I don't know what to make of this. Sunday after I had taken my Xmas tree down & was cleaning up in the kitchen, I saw this butterfly on the rim of my tea cup. Where does a butterfly come from in January? Why in my house?

I had a brief moment of panic as I recalled that the ancient Greeks depicted the soul/spirit/breath (psyche) leaving the body at death as a butterfly, & wondered whose soul had wandered into my house (& on New Year's Eve I had seen the recent movie "The American" in which the final image is of a pale butterfly flying off into the forest as the character played by George Clooney dies).

The butterfly stayed in my kitchen. I put sugar on the counter for it, but later found it dead in the middle of the floor.

As we used to say in college, "This must be symbolic of something."

A Conversation between a Pedant & Me

[This exchange took place on Facebook in response to my list poem on my Blog posted December 30. You will note that the critic threatened to, & then did, remove his comments from my Facebook page. However, I have my FB messages sent to me via email (otherwise I might never check my FB page) so, remove, shmove, I know what you said. I think it's interesting as an exchange between someone who has a rigid idea about what a poem should be (& has no sense of humor), & someone (i.e., me) who plays it much looser & enjoys the playfulness of poetry with language, grammar & syntax (& with pushing an uptight someone's buttons). As always, feel free to add you own 2 cents in the Comments.]

Pedant: says, Hey, Dan, though this piece is thematically quite good, it needs revision; it's a rough draft, very rough, in the sense that an Eng. 101 Comp. teacher would have a field day with the lack of coherent syntax in the piece. Whaddaya think? A few minutes of rational thought, working on the syntax, and you'd have a much better piece. I'm just sayin'!

Me: I only write crappy poems.

Pedant: I'll go ahead and remove my comment, since it was meant to appeal to one's intellect.

Me: You are way too serious.

Pedant: You really don't see the lack of syntactically complete statements? "Love will make you want to." Followed shortly after by "The wrong words in the wrong place can." There's no syntactical coherence. It's a technical problem. You need an editor. I'm not saying it isn't a good poetic theme, I'm saying you need to make a few tweaking lil revisions. Would you teach a kid to write that way, using poor syntax? He'd be ill-served.

Me: as I said.

Pedant: I'm going to remove my comments.

& he did.

I guess the issues are:
1) do I want to "have a much better piece"? &
2) will the correcting of a "lack of coherent syntax" make it "a much better piece"?
oh, & 3) maybe the "kid" is a she.

"October Land" -- Poetry Blog

I've been threatening to write this poem for years, ever since an October long ago, immersed in baseball playoffs, league championships, the World Series, I stole T.S. Eliot's line in his poem "The Waste Land" October is the baseball month… Finally, last night while watching the day's 2nd baseball game on TV, I appropriated the first stanza from the poem, complete with a new translation of Eliot's (un-translated) quote from the Satyricon of Petronius. Of course, one would expect Pound to be a better batter than Eliot.

I've used Eliot's poem like a "drying rack," replacing socks here, underpants there, with my own just-washed words.

October Land

“I saw with my own eyes Rodriguez in the batting cage, & when the boys said to him, ‘A-Rod, what do you want?’ that one replied ‘I want to win’.”

(For Ezra Pound, il miglior fungo.)

1. The End of the Season

October is the baseball month, breeding

Homeruns out the dead land, mixing

Statistics & cheers, stirring

Singles with double plays.

Winter bored us, only

Football on TV, basketball

Eating up the Spring.

Summer surprised us, coming over Lake Michigan

With a shower of rain; we stopped in Memorial Park

And went on in sunlight, into the Stadium,

And drank beer, and bought a scorecard.

I am not really a Yankee fan, I’m for the Mets.

And when we were children, staying at Grandma’s,

My cousin, he took me on the subway,

And I was frightened.  He said, Marie,

Marie, it’s the next stop.  And up we went.

In the upper deck, there you feel free.

I kept score, much of the night, until the teams went south in Winter.