POETS PLACE
NOVEMBER 2020 (will go down in history!)
Nov 2- as I contemplate what to write for the opening of this month’s column I feel somewhat paralyzed. The looming election (tomorrow) haunts me. The hope for a brighter future is elusive to me.
Nov 4- here we are in this dreaded wait for the outcome of the election to reveal itself. Just in case it all goes south, I have the cyanide laced Kool-Aid at the ready. Since our country is split 50/50 between a woke and mostly educated arsenal of people wanting a safe, healthy, anti-racist, caring, conscientious, science supporting and generally open to sharing the wealth to support our failing and flawed nation, half- and then we have the other half. A mixed up delusional racist and hate mongering half, mostly uneducated and white. Is it really fair to say that we should accept whatever fate we are dealt? I simply cannot wrap my head around such ignorance. Of course I understand their behaviors, and how it has been perpetuated and enabled by the cunt in chief. But, REALLY???? The stupidity of millions Americans. Do they not want the socialist perks of Medicare/Medicaid/Social Security benefits?? Which dare I say many of them are benefitting from????? Will those benefits disappear if the CIC (cunt in chief) claims they are part of socialist values, which he despises? The CIC doesn’t care a rat’s ass about this country. It’s obvious that we do, and we have been showing our displeasure and outrage with a multitude of outpourings these past 4 years. Thank you to everyone who are WOKE and aware of all that we have lost.
I pray for the best outcome.
This month in Poets Place we have lots of stories, poetry and limericks!!!
YES!!! Keep em coming y’all!
ENJOY!!!
Teetering on the edge of the emotional cliff
By Linda Kaye
Looking out over the emotional cliff pondering the distance
the drop factor for rapid inevitable doom
Considering the effect measuring the gloom
the aftermath of eternal tomb
A perpetration of devastatingly irrational behavior
Shameless
A hallucinating nightmare brought on by distraught
despair, drugs, death and denial
Deliberately imposed unable to dispose
Wonton thoughts of derelict existence penetrate the brain
ceaselessly
intensely
Teetering on the edge of the emotional cliff
Toes hangover losing balance legs become stiff
Almost falling over brain queasingly seizes
Freezing
Smelling a whiff of remembrance a familiar embrace of darkness tugging at the sleeve
Calling your name
Whispering some insane delusion
"Can you see the real me can you can you?"
Aren't we all capable of extreme acts of craziness?
Brothers and Sisters
By Lee Boek
We sit on the ridge, once the lawn,
Near the ash of the children’s swings,
The little Buddha Shrine Garden
Survives
How easy to see them still
The swings, the house, the garden, the birds, the critters
A camping tent is put up where the screen room was
We sit outside at fire and look
Where once the house, a one room picker’s shack
Converted into a comfortable home with a nice deck
Overlooking the creek, existed and thrived.
The Civil War silverware under the bed
Has fallen into the ash and dust
Covered in white plastic
Awaiting abatement before salvage
The land looks so different
Since the firestorm,
Sounding like a jet engine with a train in front of it,
Denuded underbrush
Blackened tree sticks.
Pines cut and laying about
Piles of tin on ash
Blackened
Stench where the turkeys got cooked
The land exposed by fire,
The pond, closer now without foliage
Creek bed covered in straw and white plastic.
Forty years of living and accumulating
Adult lives full of children growing
Struggling to feed clothe teach secure
Grow older
Celebrations of life
Up top at the bar and workshop
In The Green House, for guests
Down across the creek in the little shanty
Or out back at the barn
Always with fire in stoves and in pits
Great food, wine, weed and song
Laughter and Drama
On this land
Albums, keepsakes… a family legacy
Vanishes,
By fire and sixty mile an hour winds
“What do I do now?”
Slow motion, contemplation and evaluation
Our homes remain rich in our memories
Whatever comes next will never be what was
What started from nothing
Nothing to nothing
New beginning or an old ending?
Oak, redwood, palm and Kinfolk survive
Revive.
Little green blades of grass and mushrooms
Emerge
The bob cat seen again
The Canadian geese return to the pond
Mother Nature not deterred
Wildflowers replace wildfires
Debris will disappear
Saws sharpen
Structures rise up
Trees grow, seeds, new growth, surprises
New generations of energy, determination
Good health and strength
Live on…Live on
May it be so
Song: Pecan Pie
I’m sitting on the dark side,
Tryin’ to see the bright side
Could ya, send some of that Jesus
To me?
I said, “I’m sitting on the dark side
Tryin’ to see the bright side
Livin’ in the “land of the free”
Bom Bom Bom
Down in Louisiane, when the people looked around
All the pecan pie was gone
There was none that could be found
Yeah, all the pecan pie is gone
Yeah all the pecan pie is gone
When I looked around
None could be found
All the pecan pie was gone
I always had me a home
But now, my home is gone
And when the “Saints come marching in”
There gonna be wanting to eat some again
But all the pecan pie is gone
Yeah all the pecan pie is gone
When we looked around
None could be found
All the pecan pie is gone
Lee Boek, born and raised in the California Bubble, first I was a teen-age evangelist whose ministry intersected with the civil rights movement while preaching in the southern United States. Then turning to the education I was warned never to get, to the anti war movement of the sixties, the environmental movement of the seventies and today. During this time I became a performer of satirical stories and sketches mostly based on my own life experiences. For the last nearly forty years I have been a member of and/or the Artistic Director of Public Works Improvisational Theatre
My Top Ten Reasons Why The Monkees Are Awesome
By Randi Lavik
In 1986, kids of my generation couldn’t look away from Mtv. Sting and Cyndi Lauper were right… We Wanted Our Mtv!
When the nice man from the cable company arrived to install Mtv at our house, this reporter was delighted. And influenced, you bet.
Fresh out of Downey High School (where the 605 meets the 5), and exploring career opportunities in the LA radio industry, I was a fan of all music videos, for better or worse. On the shy side by nature, I never would have predicted back then (as a KROQ College Intern, in the oftentimes cringe-y ‘Roq of the 1980s’ years), that I would one day as an FM Producer, Host and Author, re-watch Mtv content in 2020, for research purposes-----Science!
In its inaugural stage, music videos ran on Mtv around the clock. Many years later and after years of American Studies and Radio/TV/Film Communications courses—thanks Mom and Dad—I see the good, the bad, the ugly and the extremely un-PC. I’m looking at you, Hair Metal bands (you know who y’all are). But forget all that, and ahem, as the anti-Metal band that I’m profiling here made me fall in love, in 1986, all thanks to Mtv.
Photo by www.totally80s.com
Because in ‘86, Mtv ran a marathon of Monkees episodes. A whole lot of teens adored them immediately, myself most definitely. I’m what is commonly referred to in The Monkees fan community as a ‘Second Generation Fan’ aka ‘Monkee Junkee’ and/or ‘Monkeegirl.’
Pre-Social Media, I socialized with Monkee friends and exchanged gossipy letters and baby pics with Monkee pen pals across the country. I attended talks, book-signings and fan meetups. Two girls I visited were literally creating a Monkees museum in their tiny Venice flat, with Monkees memorabilia on every surface and every wall, all the way up to the ceiling. They published a Monkees fanzine. Before fanzines.
When I got into the radio business in the late 1980s, I helped plan the inaugural Los Angeles Monkees Convention—putting me right smack in the middle of Monkees-related royalty including Rodney Binghenheimer, Julie Newmar, Gary Strobl… and even famed rock and roll photographer Henry Diltz. “Morrison Hotel” Diltz. I too photographed the Convention--with my Fedco Instamatic. Blurry evidence in storage. Our first planning meeting took place at the now-historic landmark ‘Rock and Roll’ Denny’s in Hollywood.
I saw every Monkees concert I could possibly attend. I went on a blind date with a guy who turned out to be their Apprentice Recording Engineer in 1987, and asked the poor guy a million gazillion Monkees questions. I went out once with a famous LA radio morning show personality from a competing station, who had then just recently interviewed them, and I asked the poor guy a million gazillion Monkees questions.
I mean a FAN fan.
The Beatles were my first love and The Monkees were My American Beatles.
Here are my top ten reasons why I’m a believer, you ‘betcha:
“How ‘Bout the Flip Side, Then?”
Davy’s Hand-Signed Autobiography
Author’s Personal Collection
1. Davy
Before he was cast as a Monkee for American ‘tellys, our friend the tiny-but-mighty Manchester native David Jones served as an apprentice horseracing jockey, before trying a hand at acting. He was soon cast in a big series, where he become famous in the UK, relatively quickly, as a television actor.
In addition, he was a terrific stage performer and was cast as ‘The Artful Dodger’--a feature role in the classic musical Oliver, on London’s West End, and with the traveling company.
Even before he was a Monkee, Davy shared the stage with The Beatles (!) while appearing with his Oliver cast-mates on The Ed Sullivan Show in February, 1964 (on the same date that The Beatles famously first appeared and subsequently shook the world).
The multitalented Jones soon set off on a singing career track, having recorded some (now extremely collectable) solo music. Davy was awfully cute, and on The Monkees series, he was the object of desire to many admirers (complete with the requisite ‘60s-sitcom twinkly special-EFX stars in their eyes).
Jones was a triple threat: He could act, sing and dance. Who doesn’t love the ‘Davy Dance’? So groovy, baby. Watch the “Daydream Believer” video on YouTube and you’ll see what I mean. I hope Axl Rose sent him a royalty check.
I think Davy’s finest moment was his dance with Monkees’ choreographer (and New Wave Legend) Toni Basil in “Daddy’s Song” from the movie “Head.” This is just adorable and maintains its charm upon re-viewing in 2020:
I met Davy two times in the late ‘80s and have to admit that I was absolutely terrified, whilst I tried not to cry happy, simultaneously. I bought Prince Davy a magnificent bouquet in Beverly Hills to honor his first book signing and got a beautiful signature and a hug. So handsome—RIP.
Monkees Swag
Author’s Personal Collection
2. Peter
Peter Tork was an East Coast-based folksinger, before venturing to California to try his hand at music. A contemporary of Stephen Stills and The Mamas and The Papas, among other local talent, Peter excelled at the banjo. Not long after he arrived in LA, Peter saw a random want ad in Variety, went to the audition, and that was that.
Peter was cast on The Monkees series as a dumb blonde, but Mr. Tork was no fool. Behind those cute ‘lil dimples was a smart fella. After The Monkees, he became an Educator.
Tork was taken very seriously musically in the Blues community post-Monkees years, fronting the highly-acclaimed Shoe Suede Blues band. He also collaborated with guitar great James Lee Stanley.
Like Ringo in the Beatles, Peter was extremely popular with fans, and also like Ringo, he wasn’t the front man, per se, he was given basically one track per Monkees album release. His songs were quirky and unusual for the times--a throwback to vaudeville perhaps?
I dig “Do I Have To Do This All Over Again.” Hippies rule:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ArauGDh-Edw
Peter left a vibrant extended family and will be remembered for peace, love and sunshine. Those dimples though. And always such a beautiful smile on that fella. I’ve told the story on the radio about how my friends and I tailed The Monkees tour bus from the Pacific Amphitheater to the 405 freeway through Orange County, post-show, late ‘80s, and that Peter waved to us for miles (with that smile). Oh swoon.
Utterly folksy and charming: take a listen to “Auntie Grizelda” and get back to me.
With Michael Nesmith, Escondido CA
Michael Ivankay Photo
3. Mike
If you see a green wool hat and epic mutton chops, you think of one man. Mike Nesmith is and was a true talent. Not only an accomplished songwriter before the Monkees years, but also a United States Air Force Veteran, with a wife and kids at home.
Mike was a pretty terrific comic actor on The Monkees series. Those musical chops too! Good looks and cool Texan grit. But always slightly aloof. In a super cool way. One of my favorite Monkees episodes took place in season two, and is called “Fairy Tale” in which Mike’s acting chops are tested; he plays a beautiful Medieval Fairy Princess (mutton chops and all) with great humor and warmth under that hot pink lipstick.
Nesmith’s songs on and off the series are so great. According to sources, “He is a noted player of the 12-string guitar, performing on custom-built 12-string electric guitars with The Monkees (built by Gretsch).”
After The Monkees, Mike fronted The First National Band—they achieved several country-flavored music hits, including “Joanne”:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q5CiOTrRJBw
Mike invented music videos, literally, with his early 1980s-era VHS home video series’ “Elephant Parts” and “Television Parts”—he had the vision right before Mtv made him a star all over again. Nesmith produced theatrical releases as well, including Repo Man with Charlie Sheen and Emilio Estevez.
I had the amazing opportunity to attend a Monkees sound check a few years ago, and bravely approached Nesmith, post-show. He was so kind. Everyone around me swooned. I had a few minutes with him and we shared a funny discussion about my super fan years.
Mike really laughed when I described to him how nutso we kids went when, he famously reunited onstage at the Greek Theater with his former bandmates in the late 80s, after 20-plus years apart creatively, and how we screamed “OH MY GOD--IT’S MIKE!!!!!!” I think I amused this full-on genius, when I confessed to Nesmith that I wrote a Graduate-school term essay on “The Cultural Significance and Impact of The Monkees’ Film Head, 1968”—and got an A.
Nesmith’s finest Monkees songs if you want to take a look/listen: “You Just May Be the One”, “Love is Only Sleeping”, “Sunny Girlfriend”, “You Told Me”, “Listen to the Band” and “Sweet Young Thing.” The look on his face in practically every Monkees music video speaks for me: Haters can kiss his grits.
“Hi! I Used To Stalk You!”
Blurry Encounter With Micky, Long Beach, Post-Show
4. Micky
All of the fans had an ultimate favorite and Micky was my guy.
A usually relatively-nervy interviewer, I pitched and took the opportunity to chat with Micky Dolenz last year, alongside “Inner Journey” Host Greg Friedman, for KX FM, Laguna Beach public radio. At that point I had successfully disarmed the notoriously cranky John Lydon aka ‘Johnny Rotten’ on live radio, and got to interview my other too-cool-to-talk-to-me? And holy cow ‘dream radio guest’, legendary LA DJ Egyptian Lover… if I could do that I could do this, no?
Well, when I initially heard Dolenz’ voice on the phone, I think I stopped breathing. It was crazy. Greg reminded me to, in his words, “breathe, Randi, breathe” and after I did, things went fine. During the interview, I had the opportunity to personally apologize to Mr. Dolenz for basically stalking him back in the day. He accepted my apology, whew!
In 1987 or so, a Monkees Pen Pal from the Midwest shared his then-swanky 90210 address (we fans were fabulous detectives), and I shared the scoop with others, but I never knocked on the door. I would have fainted. Other fans did however, and got busted, leading to FBI inquiries, Micky told us. Oops.
I was remorseful that I had taken some fellow Monkeegirls on a personal “Monkees Tour of LA” while the Convention was in town, and carried this internally for years. Anyhow, all good and it felt great to finally come clean, literally decades later, as Micky was a brilliant, insightful guest (and it also made for some great unscripted radio). When he forgave me, I could finally breathe out again.
It’s truly breathtaking to have the good fortune to have the opportunity to interview a hero. Another musical hero of mine, Dramarama lead singer and songwriter John Easdale, recently revealed a similar experience. TNN Radio Host Jimmy Alvarez and I interviewed him for KX FM, where Easdale revealed that he admires Micky as much as I do, and saw him once at a music event in person, but awestruck, he just couldn’t approach Dolenz. A speechless songwriter? With usually so much to say! Why were we so dumbfounded and why do we adore him?
Oh Micky, you’re so fine: Great sense of humor, class, sense of style, an amazing ‘fro in 1968, and most of all—pipes. Micky’s got ‘em. His sister Coco does too.
For starters, Dolenz sang on Broadway post-Monkees. Born into a showbiz family, he was a series regular as a tyke in the 1950s. An accomplished director, producer and actor, Micky was cast on The Monkees as a drummer and literally learned to play them (via the expert tutelage of Hal Blaine, drummer among the infamous ‘Wrecking Crew’).
Not long after the series became popular, The Monkees went on tour, learning to play their own music in a relatively short time period and were thrust into the spotlight at several live concerts across the country. Micky and Mike still sound fine live in concert.
Micky is a true renaissance man; he paints, he’s an accomplished woodworker, he built a gyrocopter in his garage, etc. etc. etc. I forgot to ask him if Toni Basil wrote “Mickey” about him—I’m going to guess he was her favorite Monkee too.
My favorite Dolenz vocals are on “Porpoise Song”, “No Time”, “Through The Looking Glass”, “Sometime in the Morning”, “As We Go Along”, “Goin’ Down” (Micky skats like a mofo) and “All of Your Toys.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWRNUQWKhA8
5. Talent
A Monkees Marathon recently aired a few weekends ago on cable and I had the opportunity to re-watch a great deal of episodes. To be honest, the shows age well because as Monkee Micky Dolenz is often known to state, the show was “satirical, not topical.” The guys weren’t given the most sophisticated material to work with, and akin to Jerry Lewis, they clowned their way through their two seasons, while rebelling against authority figures most of the time.
What stands out: the mini-music videos within the oftentimes corny episodes. The Monkees, originally cast and ‘manufactured’ evolved—right before the viewer’s eyes--into what looks like a real cool band. And a walking, talking, singing, dancing, party of four please, 24/7.
The actors most certainly didn’t seem to adhere to the script as faithfully in season two, and started to literally, let their hair down; this progression from manufactured idol manner mode to sheer youthful irreverence, on and off the series, is fun to see now. The producers masterfully represented the counterculture in an underhanded way------on a “kids’ show.”
6. Charm
There’s a good reason why a show for kids that ran for only two seasons in the late 1960s still has such a large cultural impact.
Everyone knows the “Theme from The Monkees” is about to start when they hear the ‘ba da bump… Here were commmmeeeee… walkin’ down the streeeeet.’
Everyone knows ‘The Monkeewalk.’
Everyone swooned when Davy Jones sang “Girl” to Marsha Brady on The Brady Bunch.
The four Monkees didn’t look, act, or sound like anyone but themselves. Randomly assembled in a casting office, the four lads bonded and bounced off each other like old pros in no time flat. And good looks didn’t hurt. What shines through in the original series and throughout their musical careers: Cohesiveness and authenticity.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29qrRiF9t-M
7. Songwriting
Michael Nesmith invented country-rock. He wrote some excellent songs for the series and subsequent album releases. In addition to Nesmith, the other Monkees wrote songs and more notoriously, The Monkees team had access to the some of the finest songwriters of the day, including Neil Diamond, Boyce and Hart, Mann and Weill, Goffin and King, Harry Nilsson, John Stewart, Neil Sedaka, Carole Bayer-Sager, and David Gates.
Essentially, a laundry list of musical talent.
8. Fashion
When you think of The Monkees you might remember this iconic look?
(Photo by Pinterest)
The Monkees, by design, wore co-branded mod-style fashions by J.C. Penney’s in season one. Peter wore his belt to the side, which was a first. More matchy-matchy than anything. Their hair was long-ish and Beatles-ish, but moussed and sprayed for television.
However, when they got insanely popular and recognizable in such a short amount of time, season two Monkees looked a little like this:
Photo by talesfromahungrylife.wordpress.com
Micky literally wore a tablecloth. They were bold, colorful and bravely fashion-forward for young men of their time. After The Monkees got famous in the USA, Davy went home to see his family in the UK, and his father famously made him go out and get a haircut before he could step into the family home.
Photo by @CoolCherryCream
9. Coolness Factor
The Monkees discovered Jimi Hendrix and invited him on tour to open for them. They visited The Beatles in the UK while they recorded ‘Sgt. Pepper’, right smack in the middle of the Summer of Love. John Lennon was a Monkees fan; notoriously comparing them to the Marx Brothers. Micky attended the Monterey Pop Festival in full costume and coordinating headdress. The Monkees supported the kids during the Sunset Strip Riots. Their experimental theatrical release “Head” costarred Jack Nicholson, Teri Garr and Annette Funicello. Run-DMC had a hit with the Nesmith-penned “Mary Mary”.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgmyVLheqkQ
I maintain that “Steppin’ Stone” is the first ska song for kids. Their impact continues: after a weekend of the Monkees marathon, my K-Pop loving daughter is a fan now, too.
10. Fifty-Five Years and Going Strong
Mike Nesmith and Micky Dolenz are active on and off social media.
Nesmith is on Facebook all the time; even more than my Dad! He’s very outspoken politically. And surprisingly, is a very public advocate for what is known in some circles as ‘the devil’s lettuce.’ His kids are equally talented, sometimes collaborate with him, and are also active on and off Facebook as well.
Dolenz, the consummate showman, is always on the road. And always working and busy. Since forever. Like Nesmith, he’s thriving personally and professionally, is blessed with health and an extended, talented, good-looking family.
The Monkees are still recording music today, recently collaborating with famous fans including Weezer front man Rivers Cuomo and the late Fountains of Wayne’s Andrew Schlesinger. Their newest release “THE MONKEES – THE MIKE and MICKY SHOW LIVE” was recorded in March 2019. “Hey Hey” indeed.
For more information: https://www.Monkees.com/
https://www.facebook.com/michaelnesmith
https://www.facebook.com/micky.dolenz.7
Watch The Monkees series reruns on MeTV, weekends: http://www.metv.com
Randi Lavik is a Producer and Host, TNN Radio and The Drop at KX FM, Laguna Beach/Worldwide
Music Columnist, OC Music News
www.tnnradio.org - www.thedropsound.com - www.kxfmradio.org – www.ocmusicnews.com
DONDI’S ANGEL
By Terence Butcher
He wouldn’t go. He could be eaten. If only he could soar like Snowbird, swooping down just to snatch a Snicker’s, especially from bully Brant. He heard laughing, and his plastic jack o' lantern grinned mockingly. He peered out the window. Kids congregated. A rifle-wielding officer lectured them. Polar bears were afoot. The streets were dangerous. Even the Great Pumpkin would have stayed indoors.
Dondi pulled a parka over his chubby, costumed frame. He glanced again at X-Men #121. Snowbird morphed Wonder Twins-like into a giant owl. Dondi jammed the booklet into his pocket. Snowbird was fearless. Tonight, he needed her.
UP IN THE SKY
By Terence Butcher
The living room clock chimed. One A.M.? Jerry had tossed and turned for hours, his pillow matted with August sweat. He switched on his lamp, revealing a photo of his father. Jerry wished Pop could have heard Einstein's speech on the radio tonight. Something about peace with the Germans. Whatever.
A full moon, whitish-yellow as a bowl of Cream of Wheat, hung outside, calling to him. It looked as large as any planet, maybe bigger than Pluto.
He thought about Joe's neat drawings. A silhouette passed through the sky. An owl? To Jerry, it seemed like a figure crossing the moon.
Terrence Butcher is a writer, educator, and film festival producer. He lives just outside Los Angeles.
Days of Thanksgiving: 2020
By Ronald G. Carrillo
That melody is still in my heart
I hear it in Nyro dialect of song from Tendaberry days
Where have you gone don’t abandon me
Those gypsy men with gypsy feet
No longer at my door or in my head
Come fill my bed Autumn man with your history
I am a survivor from the HIV wars of a gay holocaust
I am still here with no fear on my own waiting for you
Rainbow man intensify my blue sky with your smile
A hello from you would do me so well
It’s a slow love spell
I will find you I have no doubt
Let me see your hand reach out
Camelot skies in Eagle Rock await you
This in between time without you is purgatory
My sins washing away with memory and ash
A devil man that held me like trash
Now the plague has passed and left me here
I have been without him like water in a desert of angels
The arroyos of Los Angeles were my valleys
Their river rocks made my feet bleed in the journey
Now I climb the peaks to reach some glory
Will I encounter God in a burning bush of my faith
Holding on but not holding out
Waiting for but not waiting around
Having faith but not twisting faith’s design in God
Expecting him but expecting nothing
I believe in the goodness of people
But I know that evil exists in some of us too
Walking in kindness I breathe free
Working within myself but open to working with others
I have fallen but I am recovering from my fall
I walk tall and occupy a small personal space
My footprint is responsible for my actions
The planet is a shared home
Ronald G. Carrillo is a native Lincoln Hts Angelino, living in Eagle Rock and a retired LAUSD educator and influencer. He writes of his passion and rebirth into the golden age of living. He has been writing since high school and was initially influenced from the songwriters, Keith Reid, Joni Mitchell, Laura Nyro, Neil Young.
I am Black. The original man
By Julio Rodriguez
I am Black. The original man. I am 200k years old. Engineered for travel——————————-dark melanin skin To explore. The African grassland designed to morph. ——————————Developed Kinky. Springed hair. To aerate savannah sweat. Ingenious adventurer——————————-Long arms and legs. For facilitation. Fast twitch thinking. Wired for exploration——————————-I-am you. Engineered for bold travel. In 60 thousand years. I settled the world. ——————————Deactivated my melanin. In the sunless north. Mutated some blue eyes. Designed to Morph. ——————————Kept my straight hair. That from birth I endow. Ingenious are my genes. In winter winds my hair blows. ——————————HEY, I’M TALKING TO YOU. DON’T YOU RECOGNIZE ME ? I AM YOU
Julio Rodriguez is a rare act. A cross between the late 50's beatniks playing bongos and doing radical 50's poetry and Gil Scott Heron and the "Last Poets" of the Late 60's early 70's. People have said that his poetry takes them back to NY's Harlem days... Julio Rodriguez, the Conga Poet found his nitch when he started writing poetry. He had found himself without a music band to play with, and one day combined his newly found poetry with his Afro-Latino conga rhythms. For the last few yrs he has played in many of LA’s poetry venues, concerts, nightclubs, protests, and street festivals. He sells hard copies but the CD's are also available on iTunes and CDBaby .. His poetry is simple, sincere and provocative.
REFLECTION
By Mary Cheung
4:35 a.m.
8-27-20
As I look at my reflection,
and I see it staring back at me.
I'm not sure if I'm happy;
with how I look, and what I see.
The years have begun to show,
on my face and body now.
My trials and tribulations,
the good, the hard and bad times;
Everything, leading up to now.
My eyes reflect the terror,
and twinkle with the joy.
I took it all for granted,
treated life, like my favorite toy.
Bold and daring,
I've embraced it all.
Never backing down and taking on challenges,
even if it meant I would stumble and fall.
This was me, my spirit.
I barreled through life at this pace. Impatient for things to happen.
Everything was a race.
To fall in love, to get my first job.
To freedom and being on my own.
Now I look back at my accomplishments;
am I happy in what I have,
in my home?
As I look at my reflection,
and it stares back at me.
Skin once smooth and vibrant,
plump with promise and youth.
sags now with age,
pock marked, with life's bitter truths.
My skin, the reflection of life's wage.
As I look at my reflection,
and it stares back at me.
Gone is that Impatient, impetuous youth.
Inexperienced, optimistic, awkward and green.
Seasoned with life, lived, loved and all my desires and dreams.
As I look at my reflection,
and it stares back at me.
I wonder what it'll show me,
in another 5 yrs or three....
Mary Cheung is an innovative Artist and Costume Designer. Her works contain a strong sense of story as well as a highly sensuous style. She mostly works in paint or photography and sometimes making art that is wearable and innovative. She states “I am usually more of a Visual style Artists and have only recently been open to sharing literally art/poems, often paired with visual art of my creation, birthing a new form of spoken word art as another form of expression”.
Limmericks
By Dan Frischman
A gay man from D.C. named Gable
Sent Mack, a transvestite, a cable.
He said "Let's be wed!"
And replying, Mack said,
"We'll do it as soon as I'm Mable."
D. Trump, the president/sadist,
Tweet-hates whoever’s the latest.
“Alec Baldwin’s outdated,
And Streep’s overrated,
But Chachi — now that guy’s the greatest!”
Dan Frischman is an Actor/writer/magician best known for his 80s/90s roles as "Arvid" on ABC’s Head of the Class, and as "Chris" on Nickelodeon’s Kenan & Kel. TV/theater director. Short magic performances at http://www.houdanny.com
Story (StoryWorth program inspired writing)
By Joseph Weiss
Not to be melodramatic or anything like that but I was pretty much at the end of my rope when I got Martin's invitation to come to Hong Kong. My marriage to Sarah finally ended when she was found half naked, head shaven, walking through the Kensington district of Berkeley in the middle of the night. You know the metaphor of the frog in the pot? If you put a frog in a pot of boiling water the frog will jump out but if you put the frog in lukewarm water and turn the heat up little by little it will stay until boiling. And so it was with me and Sarah. Her behavior was always a little quirky but I brushed that off as a part of her artistic and introverted character and when she started painting from midnight to seven in the morning and sometimes staying up for days at a time, I was numb to the heat being turned up under the pot. And then I got the call from the Berkeley police. Bernard and Sylvia met me at Camarillo State Mental Hospital. Same place that housed Charlie Parker in the 50's. It was a bleak gray institution. Sarah came out to the park bench and table where her parents and I waited. Her chestnut colored hair which was down to her waist a week ago was now chopped to a few inches. There was absolutely no emotion or life in her face and after a few minutes of her parents interrogating her, she took one look at me and panic filled her face and body. She started screaming that I was the devil and backed away from the table. I never saw her again.
I accepted Martin's invitation to come to Hong Kong. I left California, a space cadet, with the trauma of having watched someone I loved, my wife, lose her sanity. I arrived in Hong Kong with Sarah's breakdown still very fresh. Not only that but I arrived with all the Tune In and Drop Out sensibilities of the Bay Area in the late 60's. My head was bobbing to Otis Redding, Don Covey, Howard Tate, Miles, Ornette and Trane. Hong Kong was the Bee Gees and the Monkeys. Nails on a chalkboard to me. Hong Kong was also commerce. The town meant business. I just came from the land of Peace and Love, Flower Power, Make Love Not War. No time for that frivolity in Hong Kong.
For the first month Martin's mansion in the swanky area of Kowloon Tong was my home. You entered through a halfmoon gate embedded in a foot and a half, thick plastered wall that was lined with broken glass on top to deter anyone with the wrong idea. There was Cheri Hong, Martin's beautiful wife who looked after me with such kindness, Martin's mother, Barbara, who was sure I was going to steal her son blind. Nothing personal. I'd known her for years. She was that way to all Martin's friends. And there was Chen, the chef and houseman who chased me with a butcher knife one night when I asked him for.........who the hell remembers? He was chasing me with a knife!
Maybe Chen and the knife was my cue to find other accommodations. I moved to a twelfth story, one room apartment in Wan Chai on the island of Hong Kong not far from Star Ferry that I took everyday across Victoria Harbor to my office in Martin's ad agency, Incite Communicators, Ltd. And what did I know about advertising? Nothing! Russell Cawthorn, the head of Martin's agency was a gem. He treated me quite well. He had to if he wanted to keep his job, After all I was Martin's friend from high school. Russell was a great guy and taught me a lot. Our accounts were Martin's international jeans company called Jeans East, a direct rip off from Jeans West in the States. Martin manufactured the jeans out of his factory in the New Territories and he built retail outlets in Hong Kong, Germany and Australia. Martin was amazing: If he could think it, he could build it and make it work.
I had some great adventures while living in Hong Kong. For one thing, Wan Chai was a pretty dicey area and I became friends with a lovely, shall we say, dicey girl. And we can leave it at that.
Martin's partner was Gabe. They had been friends since Junior high school. Gabe's brother, Stephan, was a superstar hairdresser back in the early 60's. That's how it all started for Martin and Gabe. Martin went to work as a hair dresser like Gabe and his brother. Martin saw what they were charging for wigs and he knew he could make them cheaper and sell them at a profit.... a big profit. Martin was a straight arrow, never drank or partook in drugs. Gabe.....not so much. I was happy to join Gabe when he asked if I'd like to meet a friend of his who lived on Lantau, an island a short hydrofoil hop from Hong Kong. This was a mixed up psychedelic visit with a Vietnam war deserter and his Chinese wife who lived in a home set on a plateau surrounded by beautifully terraced hillsides of tea plants. He was a junkie and Gabe and I chased the dragon with him. Can you imagine, this kid from Beverly Hills venturing so far from home in so many ways. Martin would surely not have approved!
Sam Fishman, one of my friends from Berkeley was the first to give me the news, a newspaper clipping from the San Francisco Chronicle about a young girl who took her life jumping from the Richmond San Rafael Bridge. The next day my folks called. I tried to get back right away but it was not in time to show my respects, my regrets. Years passed and I saw Sarah's mother and father at the 76 at Fairfax and Sunset. Sylvia came at me and started questioning me. Was it the LSD? If you knew she was sick, why didn't you say something? Bernard pulled her away. I drove off.
Joseph Weiss was born and raised in Beverly Hills, California.
After years of teaching in California elementary schools he changed his career and became a picture editor
creating motion picture trailers and scores of television shows. He now lives in Palm Desert California where he
enjoys writing fiction.
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