Mike Jurkovic (rope bars)
Greg Correll (Gandhi)
Cassandra Clarke (painted glove)
Susan Slotnick (three images)
Flowers Of Pain
From the seeds of despair
Understanding can grow
Displayed in gardens
To those who will never know
Those feelings
Hope distant they remain
Arranged for them
Flowers of pain
06/17/19
https://www.allaboutjazz.com/trip-to-the-center-marc-jufer-qftf-review-by-mike-jurkovic.php
https://www.allaboutjazz.com/book-of-water-eric-hofbauer-creative-nation-music-review-by-mike-jurkovic.php
https://issuu.com/wicoppee/docs/van_wyck_gazette_summer_issue_2019/12?fbclid=IwAR2VxvNogPX8D-WJRMQDMVcBBb8vaEqtMhXizjjA2eXjDisF4Uu-wpQV908
Banner day! Two new reviews at allaboutjazz.com and this feature on The Black Swans, a collection of lost recordings by African American classical performers in the new Summer Issue of Van Wyck Gazette.
It with a profound sadness that Calling All Poets recognizes the sudden passing of our friend, advocate, and supoorter Dr. Pauline Uchmanowicz.
Pauline was a leading advocate for the teaching of writing in all its forms. She helped develop creative writing curricula in the department of English, and also served for many years as the coordinator of composition program, which oversees initial writing courses at New Paltz and therefore impacts the educational experiences of the vast majority of their students. Pauline was widely admired, engaged and a decorated member of the campus community and widely respected throughout the Hudson Valley writing and creative community. A gifted writer who featured for CAPS many times in the past, Pauline's scholarship, poetry, essays, and Reviews have appeared in Publications such as College English, International Journal of Comic Art, Ohio Review, Chronogram, Ploughshares, Radcliffe Quarterly, and Z magazine. Three of her pieces will be published in memoriam, in the upcoming CAPS@20 Anniversary Anthology.
(Based on a roll of the Taylor Mali's Metaphor Dice that he did on Joh Fugelsang's "Tell Me Everything" on SiriusXM 's Insight channel, broadcasted February 13, 2019. The metaphor they chose was "I am a desperate trophy'. Each guest poet on that program recited a poem they made up on the spot. I decided to do the same on February 14, 2019, the day I listened to that show.)
I am a desperate trophy
Longing to be possessed
Praised and put on the mantle
Gazed and gawked at
Envied and admired daily
However, no one will compete
To win me...
I'm not a game worth playing.
As our February 1st, First Friday reading of 2019 comes upon us, I want to welcome you all to CAPS@20, our 20th year anniversary. Started many super moons ago by Jim Eve, Calling All Poets Series has evolved in many exciting and challenging directions at the whims of its curators, its members, patrons, and supporters.
There's our traditional First Friday readings at Roost Studios and Art Gallery, 69 Main Street, New Paltz. Please not our new starting time of 7:30PM. Every last Thursday of the month we return to Beacon, notably the Towne Crier Cafe, for our #poemsprosedialogue feature/wide open open mic. We have our 20th Anniversary Marathon on Saturday, March 16 from noon - 11:00PM. This will be a a membership drive event, so please renew if your time is up and help inspire others to join. We'd also like you to encourage any students you know to join with a one year free membership!
JazzOetry returns to Quinn's Restaurant in Beacon on Monday, April 29, 8:00PM. Featuring the JazzOetry Quartet of bassist Robert Kopec, Eric Person - reeds, Joe Tranchina - piano and keys, and X. Tiques - on drums. Scheduled poets include George Wallace, Mike Jurkovic, Poet Gold, Jim Eve, Penny Brodie and others. We're hoping to schedule two more JazzOetry events before the anniversary year is out.
Starting Wednesday April 17, 7:00PM CAPS, in association with Trattoria Marbella in Ellenville, will host Authors' Night with a reading, book signing, question and answer session and open mic.
So CAPS@20 is something we can all celebrate! Everyone tends to give the bulk of the credit for sustaining CAPS through the years to Jim, Glenn, Greg behind the website, and I, but all of you, members or non-members, veteran poet or novice, have created the nurturing community we all dwell within.
Give yourselves a round of applause. Write yourselves a poem, a sonnet, a haiku. CAPS@20 is all of us!
Imagination
Oxygen of creation
Our breath... poetic
***********************************************
Where am I now on the road that winds
Gatekeepers motioned to me
Urged me to enter their world
I denied impulse,
I buried curiosity--
Fought with conscience....
Still on this straight and narrow.
Offers made through storybook eyes
On the shelves that keep
Pages turned toward me
Urged me to enter their world
I feigned interest,
I faked erudition--
Fought with conscience....
Still on the straight and narrow.
Dreams with hints dropped in my head
In the sleep that confines
Visions came up to me
Urged me to enter their world
I ignored prophecy,
I dissuaded symbolism--
Fought with conscience....
Still on this straight and narrow.
Classroom courage made its stand
In the school that drains
Teachers lectured to me
Urged me to enter their world
I defied wisdom,
I decried knowledge--
Fought with conscience....
Still on this straight and narrow.
Familial wars on neutral ground
In the house that hides
Sides cried to me
Urged me to enter their world
I disowned loyalty,
I dissipated love--
Fought with conscience....
Still on this straight and narrow.
Crowding walls took their places
In the room that fears
Voices were bribing me
Urged me to enter their world
I resisted temptation,
I rejected greed--
Fought with conscience....
Still on this straight and narrow.
Clean-cut saviors on their way
On the streets that hate
Psalms waved to me
Urged me to enter their world
I repelled faith,
I rebuffed salvation--
Fought with conscience....
Still on this straight and narrow.
Sinful masters laid me down
On the bed that heals
Bodies unveiled to me
Urged me to enter their world
I protested lust,
I repudiated ecstasy--
Fought with conscience....
Still on this straight and narrow.
Where am I at this point
On the road that longs
Conscience answers me
Urged me to enter no world
I detested this invasion,
I revoked its license--
Fought with conscience....
Still on this straight and narrow...
Always on the straight and narrow.
Balancing delicately on emotion
One more expression you'll tip
You felt too much up 'til now
How much more can you permit?
There are letters crowding a shoe-box
Waiting restlessly to make their trip
Do they speak of a long-dead past
To some allusions you haven't gripped
What keeps you from sending them
Why keep these words so tight-lipped
Come to terms with the fear, child
Sooner or later we all must sail that ship.
Pools of hate at your feet
Wrung from your desperate hands
They clench as you bend reality
In your head to fit your demands
The blood of your bitter torment
Flowing from the body of an icon
He is the target of your rage
The one you have seeked revenge on
Will his death seal the vault
Or would that add to the hole
All dying is temporary, my lady
Forever will last guilt within your soul.
Do you feel the loss of faith
That dwells under humiliation
There are no fruits on the tree
That was fed by your degradation
Do you feel a chill of remorse
For this script you have wrote
Will this evict all the demons
Be worthy of the time you devote
Consider the sweat on your brow
At what conclusion did you arrive?
Those feelings of hate are still there
All the labor-- the icon is still alive.
Reminders of the horrid past
Show up on your lovers' faces
Words meant for minor pain
Turn back some virulent pages
The ink is still fresh and clean
And the paper gleams flush white
From the margins a mist rises
You turn pale at this ominous sight
All she's done exposed in sky-writing
The message seen is still so unclear
Slowly you breathe in its meaning
But as words it doesn't come anywhere near.
Seas of disarray toss your mind
As this mystery grows ever vague
What you knew breaks its chains
Each piece falls away to stravage
Grasping for your scattered consciousness
Trying to assemble this evasive puzzle
All the pieces look the same shape
Perseverance and sanity is being guzzled
About to give up all dangling hope
The connection suddenly becomes plain
The answer lies within the victim
Time has come to end this outdated game.
The abuser was within the mind
Fists were fighting inside the brain
The fault was lying not in the scars
But wrapped and tied into a name
You made yourself the typical victim
Kept untold yesterday's violent truth
Held from others the whole story
That's when shame had secured its roots
At last the tale has been told
Here privacy will be guarded
Look around, this story's not unique
But its unveiling has only been started....
