In Amongst the Rants

We find . .

'Hi, I'm sitting in a beautiful rose garden and I looked and I saw a lily bush that hadn't opened yet, and I didn't know there were lilies in the rose garden, 'cause all of the roses are gone now. But in a few weeks there are going to be some beautiful lilies. I was really happy. And I didn't want to leave a negative rant; I don't think they should all be negative rants. I think there should be a wish line, because, in a week, no, in four days, I'm going to ask someone out who I've liked for a year and a half now. So I'm sending out a wish 'cause everyone goes through this time. And they are all afraid of rejection. So, I really hope that I won't have to say goodbye for good.'

From C-ville Weekly Rants section Issue #19.30 :: 07/24/2007 - 07/30/2007.

Persian Lady Night @ Little Grill

Yes, Eric did four excellent songs (because he agreed to lead off). Yes, Jacob and Brendan and another member of the American Gentlemen comedy troupe did some excellent stuff.

Yes, Alex Albrecht was in peak form. Yes, Noah did a 'napkin poem'. Yes, Chris Lythgoe sang a song he'd just written just yesterday called 'Hot Summer Lovin' (though it was anything but hot, the weather that is).

Yes, David danced to 'Wipe Out'. Et cetera, et cetera.

The night still belonged to the Persian Lady, Yasmin, who performed her new love poem: 'To the Sky' to the joy and enthrallment of all in attendance.

How could I compete with 'Chris Howdyshell's Honey-Do List' (2007)? Or 'Cool, Glorious Cool' (2007)? Or my new sentence poem 'When I Say 'You''?

I could not. Simple as that, for it was a Persian Lady Night at Little Grill.

WANTED: Handspring Visor PDA

I came across a keyboard for a Handspring PDA at a yard sale for a dollar and decided that meant I needed to find myself a Handspring PDA. Got one you want to donate to a poor poet?

Perfect Car for a Poet?

I've been a car-lover all of my life and a poet for only seven years or so, so I should forgive myself, I suppose, for missing the name on this automobile.

Saab Sonett.

It only struck me the other day that this must be the perfect car for the poet, especially one who writes
sonnets.

Then we discover the name comes from a Swedish phrase by Rolf Mellde: 'Så nätt den är' (English - 'how nice it is').

I hear they overheat anyway.

Unlikely Occurence

Not too long ago I was listening to the radio in Harrisonburg, Virginia (don't particularly remember the station, though now I'm told it was classic rock) and I heard my friend 'Lester Madivhan call in and win a prize.

This was interesting, mostly, because he used his penname, one only someone like me would know as I knew him in his incarnation as a poet, especially having published his poetry at my site.

I ran into him last night by serendipity in Charlottesville.

Yes, it had been him on the radio, and he'd called in with his penname because he'd won a prize through them already. (The ruse didn't work, by the way. He never got his second winnings.)

Why was he in Harrisonburg? He works maybe a half mile from where I live. Drives back-and-forth over the mountain every workday.

Reminds me I also posted the poetry of
Jade Catta-Preta, who is still a rather comely lass as you can see from her acting headshot.

SLIGHTLY LONGER STUFF: from Aught Six

MARTIAL PLAN
Monster steals at me at night
Itching for reason to fight
I knew that Fate would yield a chance
But would I know the Monster Dance?

Now you're locked up good and tight
It looks like I was in the right
But I know to be a man
I'm going to need a Martial Plan.
March 3, 2006

IF I COULD TELL YOU
If I could tell you
  What it was like
    I sat in Dark
      I saw the Light.

I'd been so long
  In Wilderness
    Surely I must
      Have it all wrong.

Could this be
  Gift from Above
    Could this be . .
      Could this be Love?
April 22, 2006

RENEW THE LEASE
If in the morning
  I must release
You to your scorning
  Not yet at ease
New hope aborning
  Yours if you please
Old sads ashorning
  Renew the lease!
April 30, 2006

CLOSER TO THE LEGEND
Closer to the legend
    You falter
Like Isaac with son
    At altar
Play a song on
    Your psalter
Go hard like Rock
    of Gibraltar
Take a smoke like
    Sir Walter.
April 30, 2006

STICKY LOVE
There's still time
    for sticky love
To be blessed
    by God above
To make me
    your turtle dove
If that's what
    you're dreaming of.
May 6, 2006

WE SHARE A LOVE
We share a Love
  We celebrate
With God above
  On this our date.

The plans we laid
  The Love we've found
The home we made
  Good things abound.

We'll shed all care
  We'll be a team
I'll meet you there
  To live our Dream.
May 10, 2006
(written for somebody)

PRIDE
What purpose serve our Pride?
  Why must the peacock preen
What force burst from inside
  Radioed from every gene?

The answer's in the question
  The Force so integral
That drives our presentation
  Is primally essential.
May 31, 2006

SHORT STUFF: from Aught Six

RACHEL OF A THOUSAND SMILES
Rachel of a thousand smiles
Will you sit with me awhile?
Whichever way, don't tell your Dad
It's his keys unlock my pad.
February 9, 2006

VALENTINE'S DAY BEHIND BARS
Valentine's Day behind bars
The men are all tattooing
The war between Venus and Mars
Means there's no one left for wooing.
February 13, 2006

FIDDLE-DEE-DEE
I'm yet unsure what survives the spree
Who says what's good in life is free?
The cost was big as big can be
But in the end, fiddle-dee-dee.
February 23, 2006

RAMSHACKLE SHACK
In my ramshackle shack
  Where the wind passes through
Just me and my cat
  (And thoughts of you.)
March 14, 2006

I WAS NOT EVEN THERE
You say I enslaved you
  Oppressed your people, too
But I was not even there
  Were you?
March 30, 2006

LOVE COMES AGAIN
Love comes again
  He moves my pen
    He's kith and kin
      I missed my friend.
April 3, 2006

A DISCOVERY
Not so much an encounter
  As a discovery
    Of you
      Inside me.
April 5, 2006.

EVERY SLOPE IS SLIPPERY
Every slope is slippery
  Denuded of its frippery.
May 28, 2006

'TWAS HEAVEN SENT ME TO YOU
'Twas Heaven sent me to you
  Sent me from Above
To make your wings fly true
  To fill your heart with love.
May 31, 2006

HIS SINS BECOME YOURS
If you slavishly follow
  His ways on all fours
Your dreams become hollow
  His sins become yours.
June 1, 2006

THAT'S NO CRIME
On the line between
  The ridiculous and the sublime
I lost my way
  (But that's no crime.)
June 4, 2006

THE GODS OF POKER
The gods of poker
  Procrastinate
    They sent a king
      But sent it late.
June 10, 2006

MY PATH
Though my path be
  Dark and scary
I see it all
  As necessary.
June 17, 2006

NEW STUFF: as of July 17, 2007

SOMEWHERE IN YOU
Somewhere in you
  Is that sweet boy
    Never long
      From the war.
June 5, 2007

LONESOME WENT OUT THE BACK DOOR
Lonesome went out the back door
  When you came in the front
The sunlight hit the floor
  The darkness took the brunt.
June 7, 2007

DON'T YOU $*@#??!! WITH TUESDAY
You can mess with Monday
  The Moon, she don't mind
But don't you $*@#??!! with Tuesday
  Mars, he don't forget.
June 12, 2007

YOUR LESBIA
Catallus, your Lesbia
  So aptly named
Nothing but an animal
  Waiting to be tamed.
June 15, 2007

NO CRIME
I tell myself
  Time-after-time
To write bad poetry
  It's no crime.
June 21, 2007

NO CHANCE
So you want a
  Relationship.
Something normal?
  No chance.
June 28, 2007

TO MAKE A FOOL OF ME
How easy it must be
  So suave and debonaire
To make a fool of me
  And act like you don't care.
June 28, 2007

RARELY
The chased are rarely chaste,
The chaste are rarely chased.
June 29, 2007

THE PROBLEM WITH MARS
The problem with Mars:
  It's a bloody forbidding place
And those who make it there
  Are used to blood and wars.
July 10, 2007

TOSSED ME FROM THE HERD
Would you have me walk amongst
  To chorus of ridicule
Those who tied their trunks
  And tossed me from the herd?
July 15, 2007

THE ONLY LOVE
The only Love that can be pure
  A Love that braves insults
The only Love that's safe and sure
  Because no child results.
July 15, 2007

"Love" by George Herbert

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
     Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
     From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
     If I lacked any thing.

"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here":
     Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
     I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
     "Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame
     Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
     "My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
     So I did sit and eat.

George Herbert (1593-1633)

'The Wounded Cupid. Song'

Cupid as he lay among
Roses, by a Bee was stung.
Whereupon in anger flying
To his Mother, said thus crying;
Help! O help! your Boy's a dying.
And why, my pretty Lad, said she?
Then blubbering, replied he,
A winged Snake has bitten me,
Which Country people call a Bee.
At which she smil'd; then with her hairs
And kisses drying up his tears:
Alas! said she, my Wag! if this
Such a pernicious torment is:
Come, tell me then, how great's the smart
Of those, thou woundest with thy Dart!

Translated from the Greek by Robert Herrick (1591-1674)

Pushkin Night at Little Grill Open Mic

When was the last time you heard Russian poetry read out loud at an open mic? Though so. That's why you have to come to the open mic every Thursday night at Little Grill.

Steve-o outdid himself (not so easy to do) by reciting an Alexander Pushkin poem entitled "I Loved You Once":

I loved you once; love still, perhaps,
Within my soul is not completely extinguished.
But let it not trouble you further;
I do not want to sorrow you for anything.

I loved you once without words, hopelessly;
Now by joy, now jealousy tormented.
I loved you once so sincerely, so tenderly -
As God grant you to be loved by another.

I don't know if he was countering my "Stanzas" by Lord Byron.

I also tossed in "So Horribly True", a short poem I just wrote, followed by three sentence poems I wrote back in aught three: "Why Did You Have To", "Who Told You", and "With One Hug".

Noah* and I cleared the place out at the end with a startling rendition of "A Horse With No Name" by America.

*stand-in host as Chris Howdyshell was over the mountain performing with his band at the Gravity Lounge.

Rise of Eunuchs, Decline of Empire

'. . if we examine the general history of Persia, India, and China, we shall find that the power of the eunuchs has uniformly marked the decline and fall of every dynasty.'

Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

The Only Total Love

Enzo and Dino Ferarri

«. . l'unico amore totale possibile su questa terra è quello di un padre verso il figlio».

Enzo Ferrari

('. . the only total love possible on this Earth is that of a father for his son.')

The Beginning of Music

Devon Sproule bravely waded into her already-great-before-it's-even-released "Julie".

I requested it that recent night (July 6th) at the Little Grill. She fought to find the lyrics, and the chords, and for me it was like being at the Dawn of Creation — the Beginning of Music.

If she mates this with her already-one-of-the-greatest-traditional-country-songs-before-it's-even-been-on-country-radio "Don't Hurry for Heaven" — a two-sided single like they used to do — she can retire at 26 and live out her life on a farm.

With enough money to buy houses for all her relatives (like she says she wants to in one of her songs).

"Stanzas" by George Gordon Lord Byron

STANZAS

         Could Love for ever
         Run like a river,
         And Time's endeavour
            Be tried in vain—
         No other pleasure
         With this could measure,
         And like a treasure
            We'd hug the chain.
         But since our sighing
         Ends not in dying,
         And, form 'd for flying,
            Love plumes his wing;
         Then for this reason
         Let's love a season
But let that season be only Spring.

         When lovers parted
         Feel broken-hearted,
         And, all hopes thwarted,
            Expect to die;
         A few years older,
         Ah! how much colder
         They might behold her
            For whom they sigh!
         When link 'd together,
         In every weather,
         They pluck Love's feather
            From out his wing—
         He'll stay for ever,
         But sadly shiver
Without his plumage, when past the Spring.

         Like chiefs of Faction,
         His life is action—
         A formal paction
            That curbs his reign,
         Obscures his glory,
         Despot no more, he
         Such territory
            Quits with disdain.
         Still, still advancing,
         With banners glancing,
         His power enhancing,
            He must move on—
         Repose but cloys him,
         Retreat destroys him,
Love brooks not a degraded throne.

         Wait not, fond lover!
         Till years are over,
         And then recover
            As from a dream.
         While each bewailing
         The other's failing,
         With wrath and railing,
            All hideous seem—
         While first decreasing,
         Yet not quite ceasing,
         Wait not till teasing
            All passion blight:
         If once diminish'd,
         Love's reign is finish'd—
Then part in friendship—and bid goodnight.

         So shall Affection
         To recollection
         The dear connexion
            Bring back with joy:
         You had not waited
         Till, tired or hated,
         Your passions sated
            Began to cloy.
         Your last embraces
         Leave no cold traces—
         The same fond faces
            As through the past:
         And eyes, the mirrors
         Of your sweet errors,
Reflect but rapture—not least though last.

         True, separations
         Ask more than patience;
         What desperations
            From such have risen!
         But yet remaining,
         What is't but chaining
         Hearts which, once waning,
            Beat 'gainst their prison?
         Time can but cloy love
         And use destroy love:
         The wingèd boy, Love,
            Is but for boys—
         You'll find it torture,
         Though sharper, shorter
To wean, and not wear out your joys.

By George Gordon Lord Byron, December 1, 1819.

Dylan Night @ Little Grill: Open Mic, July 5, 2007

Bob Dylan musta been smiling down proudly from his velvet silhouette perch on the wall at

"The Man from Duluth"

The Little Grill Collective Thursday night, as everything was going his way.

First, we had Rafael Nadal-lookalike "Josh" get up there with his guitar and do some heartfelt originals spawned in Ohio, where he was just back from. He might not have thought he was doing Dylan proud, but I bet Mr. Zimmerman had his angry days back-when.

Then Chris Howdyshell, venerable M.C. for the night's proceedings, played a song from VH1's 100 Greatest Songs of Rock and Roll.

How does "Papa Was a Rollin' Stone" tie into the Dylan mystique? It's all in the name. And the fact that The Temptations' version of the song was ranked #168 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, while Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone" was number one.

That the number-two spot was taken by the group The Rolling Stones (with "Satisfaction") does not escape notice, or that the oldest song on the list was Muddy Waters "Rollin' Stone" from 1948 (ranked #459).

The astute will also remember that The Rolling Stones got their name from Muddy Waters song "Rollin' Stone" and that Rolling Stone magazine took its name from the Dylan song.

Bill and Ted got up there and did "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" and "All Along the Watchtower" for good measure.

The Dylanesque prize for the evening went to the last performer, Evan Morris, who did The Man from Duluth* most proud. We also had a girl named "Buick" play a song or two. She was on her way from Brooklyn to Nashville (wonder what she was driving?).

Chris Lythgoe was the only one to do anything remotely patriotic, given it was the day after July 4th. Bully him and his "Battle Ghosts".

I read two word poems: "Zither" (2004) and "What Awaits You" (2005),* rounding things out with sentence poem "I Wasn't Ready", which I wrote back in aught six.

---

*that Chris Howdyshell blurted out 'That's the best poem of the night!" at the end of it may have had more to do with the number of beers he'd downed by that point than the actual quality of the piece (actually he's from Hibbing).

"Miss Blues' Child"

'Featuring fast-fingered guitar and a powerful voice beyond his years, Cook doesn't need any Robert Johnson-style pact with the devil to take him to the top.'

This snippet from a review in the C'ville, 'Charlottesville's newsweekly' while Eli Cook was still in high school, was used to introduce the bluesman yesterday in Scottsville at the annual Fourth of July celebration.

How would you like to live up to that?

The kid did it without breaking a sweat.

The only disappointment was that he didn't do the national anthem Jimi Hendrix-style, as he momentarily promised with a riff from that famous performance.