ANOTHER POETRY-FILLED WEEKEND: THUR 7/28 - SUNDAY 7/31

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There' little doubt that at least one enchanting event has been left off this list, but that's operator limitation and ignorance. These are events and hosts I am familiar with and feel comfortable listing. 

Thursday, July 28, 2022

1. Phynne-Belle (AKA Tricia DeJesus-Gutierrez) brings us Phynnecabulary Presents Hits of the ‘80s at 7pm PDT

My eye is usually caught by the different, the novel. My toes generally point toward unassaulted paths. Phynne-Belle is definitely different, sometimes naughtily novel and this program offers an opportunity to share poetry, music, and funny or interesting stories about the 80s! Is that common?

Register for the event on eventbrite

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2. Katerina Canyon and Canyon Poets present Heidi Seaborn at 7pm PDT

Heidi Seaborn is the author of PANK Poetry Prize winner An Insomniac’s Slumber Party with Marilyn Monroe, the acclaimed debut Give a Girl Chaos and Comstock Chapbook Award-winning Bite Marks. Heidi is Executive Editor of The Adroit Journal and holds an MFA from NYU. 

• Register for the event 
• Join Zoom Meeting directly 

Meeting ID: 814 7866 7183 Passcode: 275639

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Friday, July 29, 2022

3. Northport Arts Coalition (NAC) Poets in Port with host Linda Trott Dickman brings us Bernard Hicks at 7:30pm EDT.

Bernard is a 57-year-old, energetic, athletic, and driven person. Born and reared in New York City he has experienced life on many levels that the Big Apple has to offer. One of twelve children, learning to navigate different personalities has given him interesting and unique perspectives on relating and understanding people in different social environments.

• Eventbrite link to register
• Facebook event link

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4. Collapse Press with hosts Lynn Alexander and Paul Corman-Roberts offers Friday Collapse with Generalissimo Bryan Franco and T. A. Niles at 6:30pm PDT. 

If the folks who said they were coming to read actually come to read, this will truly be an event you don’t want to miss! I would list the folks I’m excited to hear tomorrow but then all the folks who aren’t listed…well, you know. Paul and Lynn record the Friday Collapse, and this is one video I expect to save and treasure for some time to come.

• Signup for the open mic list 
• Join event via Zoom 
• View live on Facebook 

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Saturday July 30, 2022

5. Poetry Street on the Road, hosted by Chip Williford and Maggie Bloomfield, presents Nancy Keating, Tom Stock, and Joseph Hurns. from 2 – 4pm EDT

This is a venue where diversity thrives in more than name only. Bringing all sorts of voices to the poetry Zoomisphere, a variety of vehicles travel down Poetry Street and I dig the kaleidoscope convertible!

Join Zoom Meeting

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Sunday, July 31, 2022

6. Cultivating Voices Live, hosted by Sandy Yanone, Kim Ports Parsons, and Don Krieger, at 1pm MDT is featuring a POETS FOCUS event this Sunday. The theme for this reading is REFUGE. Open Mic readers will share original poetry or work by a poet they admire which relates in some way to the theme. 

To sign up for the Open Mic, arrive fifteen minutes early in the Zoom studio. They will sign up twelve poets to read for 5 minutes or less. Priority will be given to folks who have not read yet this month.

• Zoom link to register
• Facebook event link
• Join Facebook group to view on Facebook

BUKOWSKI MUSINGS PROMPTED BY PHYNNECABULARIUM

 

When I was a doctoral student some almost 30 years ago now, I used to say, “I am the most ignorant doctoral student you’ll ever meet.” And I wasn’t kidding, and it wasn’t false modesty. Likewise, for those who insist on calling me a “poet,” (I do my best to avoid as many labels as I possibly can) I will say that I am the most ignorant “poet” you’ll ever meet.

Until today, when I listened to Phynne-Belle’s Phynnecabularium, I don’t believe I had read a single Charles Bukowski poem. But today, I listened to Phynne read Bukowski’s The Genius of the Crowd.  Although the entire poem is worthy of a listen, after several hours of attending poetry readings on Zoom, the most apropos section of the poem to me was the following:

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

I’ve heard Bukowski’s named dropped countless times over this past year of Zoom poetry immersion, and it seems to me, his name is being dropped by some of the very folks he appears to be describing in this piece. Yes, I’d like to have a discussion about the meaning of Bukowski’s poem, and surely there is a venue out there where discussing the potential and myriad meanings of a poem is par for the course. I haven’t found that venue yet.

What I have found are “people who are always reading books” including Bukowski’s. I have found so many “knowers” who “know” what everyone wants and needs. I have met many who are “quick to praise” regardless (just check out the chats). I have encountered those who appear to “seek constant crowds.” Cognitive dissonance descends.

It appears to me that “average” is exalted…no surprise, since that also appears to be the standard operating procedure in this society. Yep, I have heard quite a few harangues about “elites” and “elitism” But then I suppose a lot of my cognitive dissonance comes from old-fashioned notions about language and its use.

I am fascinated by people who are quick to bash elites yet are quite happy to be designated as “elite.” After all, who wins poetry contests, receives Pushcart nominations and Pulitzers? Duh, they are elite…at least in the minds of those evaluating them. Here’s an old-fashioned definition for elite: “a select group that is superior in terms of ability or qualities to the rest of a group or society” (Google search). 

Yes, there are multiple and nuanced meanings of “elite,” but the essence of the concept is that there are some who are “superior” to others…at least at some things and in some ways. It fascinates me how we worship the elite on the one hand, while condemning them on the other.

In this society, truth is but a mythical value. Everything is subservient to “feel good,” and since those with unbalanced egos won’t “feel good” if they see themselves or are seen by others as “inferior,” then truth must be banished if the truth is that they truly are inferior in whatever domain we’re evaluating. Even those who feel or think themselves to be superior play this game.

I used to be a competitive tennis player, but I had no problem admitting that there were a host of other players who were superior to me on the court. One of my most memorable matches was one that I lost. The other player, at least for one match and perhaps in general, was superior to me. So what? I suspect I’m swimming in the wrong pond.

Perhaps I am okay with being inferior in any domain because no individual domain defines me? Perhaps it is because I value “truth” above “feel good?” Perhaps it’s because I value excellence wherever I find it- whether that is within me or in another.

I remember walking to a football game with a friend who was bashing the rich. I responded, “Why are you bashing the rich when that is precisely who and what you are trying to become?” I suspect the elite don’t bash the elite…except when it helps them sustain their elite position. Speaking of elite, Bukowski sure sounds like an “elitist” to me. He doesn’t sound like a fan of “average.”

And then, I imagine maybe it is related to the “all people are created equal” concept, itself a fallacy if the meaning of that concept isn’t explored fully. But who has time to explore meaning in this soundbite, market-and-marketing-driven society? Old, retired dudes like me I suppose…except I’ve been doing such exploration for a lifetime. Yet I remain absolutely baffled by humanity.

I should probably address the term “elitist” before I get cancelled—the hip and modern euphemism for censored-plus—by those who want to keep the prevailing narratives chugging right along. Another Google search produced: “…supporting the view that a society or system should be led by an elite.” Hmm, let’s see…

Raise your hand if you want someone “average” leading your sports team? How about your business? Would you prefer an “average” teacher teaching your children or an “elite” one? Would you prefer an “average” financial manager handling your financial affairs or an “elite” one? Tell me one thing that really matters where you’d prefer having someone average handling it if an elite individual was available…all other things being equal of course.

Perhaps it is my alien nature, but I want an elite to show me the way if I am not too sure of the way myself. And when I use the term elite, I mean an actual, demonstrated elite, not merely someone designated by others or who designates themselves as elite.  

If I am going on a hike in an unknown forest or even a known one, I want an elite guide (one who has traversed this and maybe other forests with skill) to lead me. If I’m going into uncharted waters, I would prefer an elite captain (one who has sailed the waters successfully many times). I imagine it is my limited perspective getting in the way, but I can’t see why I would want it any other way…unless it wasn’t important to me to make it out of the forest or to reach my destination on land.

I suppose, given all the name-dropping, and his view of “the average man the average woman” (yes, I know, we need to consider changing the language of his poem, right?), that Bukowski is an elite. Somehow that seems okay to those who drop his name…or maybe, they don’t really understand Bukowski at all. Maybe, its another name to drop so people won’t think they’re average?

I don’t know. Perhaps you can tell that I am merely wrestling above my weight with the many wrestlers who are my superior.😉

 

MORE DISCOVERED TREASURE: TERESA E. GALLION & MICHAEL ANTHONY INGRAM

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Teresa appearing QLPOR

I keep stumbling upon fonts (not text fonts, people) of enrichment that I had no idea existed. Today, I happened upon Quintessential Listening: Poetry Online Radio Presents Teresa E. Gallion with Michael Anthony Ingram.

Teresa reading at Tortuga
Gallery in Albuquerque,
New Mexico 

Asked about her definition of poetry, Teresa E. Gallion responded, “Poetry is the song of the inner self, pushing its way into our outer consciousness. It tells the story that it wants to tell in that moment. The story continuously changes as the inner self and soul learns and grows from the experiences of the body that it currently resides in.”

Host Michael Anthony Ingram

I think I got the quote right, but my transcription skills leave something to be desired. Michael Anthony Ingram seems to draw out that very inner self that Teresa mentioned above during their interview.

Teresa in Egypt, 2022

Teresa is still reveling in her experience of a recent trip to Egypt and one of her poems juxtaposes her experience of the Rio Grande and the River Nile. Teresa’s lyrical poetry and reading and Michael’s insightful probing were definite treats! Uncommon wisdom, authenticity…I so enjoy “REAL!” Thanks Teresa. Thank Michael.

Teresa E. Gallion Collections

 

THIS IS THE KIND OF WALL I WISH WE'D BUILD

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Starry Eyes Debut Album 2019

I think I’m  calling this an impromptu, ekphrastic post, because it was stimulated—perhaps stipulated might be more accurate—by art that found a way to impart its sublimity by round about means. Simply put, it was meant to be.

Books on the Hill, 2021
Cleveland's tiny branch library

If you have a questing mind that is old enough, you probably know that there are treasures to be found in libraries. I think of the internet as the largest library ever created, perfect for this mind that thirsts beyond its drowning. Without it—the internet, not my thirsty mind...or maybe both?—there’d likely be no Cleveland or Mchael Wall in my world, and that would be a tragedy of treasure never found.

Michael and Cleveland at the Ice House
Bethlehem, PA, 2016

There’s something a bit ironic about this post because some could consider me iconoclastic, and Cleveland Wall is a librarian…perhaps of the iconic kind. And Michael’s muses and his music are acoustic, rooted in wood and holes and pegs and strings that seep enough sweet sadness to make eyes sting. Together they are The Starry Eyes.

Think back. Search your memory-mind for a time when you saw/heard/touched/felt/experienced something so sublime that your eyes filled against your will, and you had to demand stillness from that recalcitrant beating organ of yours that can leap or sink…depending.

Marriage of true minds
San Francisco, 1992

I don’t have to search too far or wide because, dear friends (all two of you) the union of Cleveland and Michael Wall is a “wholly” union, bringing together bits and pieces of gentle genius to create the beyond-beauty that bubbles up from the Wall wellspring as if humanity had never soiled the earth.

In West Bethlehem, PA, 2020
Note: No Soviets were harmed in
the making of this hat 😊

Except that they are human and flesh and blood and sight and sound. YES! And SOUND! Michael and Cleveland erect a Wall that keeps out the cacophony. I can’t hear bombs and bullets, curses and catcalls, recriminations about race or gender or anything else that drips of filth as The Garden of Terrors and Delights (a third of a misnomer for there is no terror) infuses my senses with...with…the nameless, the label-less, the experiential that eschews and scoffs at symbols.

The Starry Eyes at virtual 11fest, 2020

Cleveland’s mesmerizing voice and poetic creations flirt with Michael’s gymnastic fingers on acoustic strings...and I must let lids shut to squeeze each delectable drop from the smorgasbord of verbusic delight they deliver with finest china on a silk tablecloth.

My extended relationship with futility is a troubled one and sometimes I have to walk away just to feel ok. It’s really a clandestine threesome though. Ineptitude is my other relational, psycho-emotional partner, and sometimes I have to feint left and exit right to escape her. That’s what I’m doing now, slinking away from Futility and Ineptitude.

I’m only bringing you into my relational life so that you may have a clue about why I am compelled to end this post right here. I have no real hope of conveying, in words, my experience of Michael and Cleveland Wall budding and blooming together in their misnomered garden.

I wonder…what might your experience be? Please click the link and see! Oh, and if you do, for goodness sake, please let em know if they’ve moved you.

CAN WE GET 1230? 1230 GOING ONCE....

Confession: I’m not much for poetry contests, but I suspect I’m in the minority there. I’m not much for the lottery either, but I’ve played that a time or two over the years. The PSH contest cash prizes almost tempted me, but I’m becoming more and more of a realist in my old age.

That said, I’ve thrown in with a host of others to offer a prize made available to all who enter the 2022 Poetry Super Highway contest. Initially, this post was merely going to offer a sneak peak at a few of the prizes that were at least slightly different from the common “x number of copies” of the prize offerors’ publications.

But then, Rick Lupert informed me that there were 1,229 poems submitted for the 2021 contest. My mind immediately jumped to, “1229 poems?! For three judges to read?!” Major kudos to Taylor Byas of Cincinnati, Ohio; Kathleen Holliday of Salish Sea, Washington; and Jonathan Yungkans of Los Angeles, California for taking on such a “Herculean” (Rick’s word) task!

I don’t care if they had a full two months (which they didn’t really) to read and decide the fates of those poems staring up at them longingly. The mere thought of reading at least portions of more than 400 poems in two months has my eyes doing cartoon twirlies! I wonder if KelliSimpson, Layla Lenhardt, and Mary Beth Hines—this year’s judges—know what they’re in for?

Note: The number is based on quick math and an assumption of an evenly divided workload. I don’t really know how the work/joy was divided. Still!

Anyway, you can click here for the list of prizes being offered to all who enter, but below are those slightly different prizes I mentioned above.

Sample of Contest Prizes:

David C. Kopaska-Merkel
https://dreamsandnightmaresmagazine.blogspot.com/
5 two-year (six-issue) subscriptions to the PDF edition of Dreams and Nightmares, one of the oldest extant magazines of speculative poetry (first published in 1986).

Linda N. Masi
https://lindanmasi.com
$50 added to the prize pot given to the first place winner
$25 added to the prize pot given to the second place winner
$25 added to the prize pot given to the for third place winner

Magdalena Ball
http://www.compulsivereader.com
1 one-month ad at Compulsive Reader including image, link and newsletter ad

Rolland Vasin
$300 Added to the Cash Prize Divided Between the Winning Poets

Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association
sfpoetry.com
2 digital (PDF publications) memberships with the SFPA for the period of one year.

Susan Tutors
1 90 Minute Poetry Workshop in person (in San Diego) or online Led by Poet Susan Taylor

Suzanne Ondrus
http://suzanneondrus.com/
Editorial feedback via email with Trackchanges on 3 poems for 1 person

T. A. Niles
https://tapoetexpress.blogspot.com/
1 Five-Poem Recording and Video Package produced by T. A. Niles

Tara A. Elliott
www.taraaelliott.com
2 written line-by-line critiques from Tara A. Elliott with editorial advice of one (1) poem of the awardee’s choice, not to exceed one standard (8 1/2″ x 11″) page in length.

THE SAILORS REVIEW: ISSUE #60

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By now you probably know that Issue #60 of The Sailors Review (TSR) is available for your perusal. Not to give too much away, but I found the following elements enriching:

Brenardo & Sistah Joy Alford,

Inaugural Poet Laureate of

Prince Georges County, Maryland

A poet who frequents a few of the online venues I’ve attended, Brenardo’s (AKA Andre’ B. Taylor)  poem (p.33) echoes my dismal perspective of our current societal state:

“Where is there

A Place To Go

Where Madness Does Not Rule

Where Is There

A Respite From Parrots, Lizards, Fools”

Sadie Schaecher
in The Sailors Review

And yet, youthful wisdom can offer a foil for dismal views, and the wisdom of the young can be found in DrThembieTanya’s (Dr. Sithembeni Tanya Madziwa) interview of 16-year-old Sadie Schaecher (p. 37) who talks about her triumph in a slam with adults she looked up to:
“Speak slowly. Define evert word. Believe in what you are saying, and as you speak, give the audience time to hear and believe in the words too.

Dr. Sithembeni Tanya Madziwa

…I find that the best thing to compliment powerful words is a powerful silence.”

And in discussing another of her poems Sadie notes:
“…it showed what it’s like to fall in love with your illness.” 

Some remarkable insight for one so young is how I read it. 

Shorai Matambanadzo

Is any of us unfamiliar with the fear of failure? Martin Chivaku brought us wise words from Shorai Matambanadzo (AKA Shogo Wa Agogo, p.51). The mixed media artist offers:
“..the most important tip I could give any upcoming artist is to…accept failure when it occurs and be able to overcome the fear of failing. Each failed experience can be accompanied by powerful knowledge, extraordinary growth and make you a much better artist in the long run.” 

Frank Nyamundero (p.82) author and Frankinspire podcast host, also touched on the theme of dealing with failure.

One of the benefits of reading TSR is that it provides cultural perspectives that can expand our horizons…if we are interested in such a thing. The poem, Sweeet Sixteen Is No More (yes, the 3 e's are intentional) by Towandah Ryan (Brian Manyati), and his analysis of the piece, as presented by Tatenda Murangi, address cultural events in Zimbabwe. In particular, it casts an eye on a shift in how women and girls are perceived in law, as decreed by the Constitutional Court of Zimbabwe ruling on May 24, 2022.

Finally, I don’t know if it would be considered flash fiction or a short story, but Rutendo Sawala's The Revelation, The Truth (p.76) is another piece that provides cultural insight and addresses the plight of girls and women. It also takes a brief gander at the concept of truth.

If you get the chance, check out the most recent version of The Sailors Review by VaChikepe and the 100 Sailors.

IN GRATITUDE: ANDRE N. MILLER & RICK LUPERT

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Andre Niland Miller

I went through his numerous photos on Facebook/Meta trying to find a photo with Andre Niland Miller alone. After a few dozen scrolls, I gave up and cropped one to show just him. I hope he won’t be too upset with me, because Nilan, one of his dear sons, was also in the photo before I cropped it.

Kim, Nilan, Taylon, and Dre 06/22

Sometimes pictures are worth a thousand words, and this is one of those times. You see, Andre Miller is not much of a “me” guy as his photos indicate, and to which my relationship with him since high school can attest. 

With Steph and Lenora, 12/2020

Other than the exception of Lenora Thomas-Morton, my high school sweetheart, I’m not in touch with many from Weaver High School days in Hartford, Connecticut. No surprise. That’s almost half-century ago!

Brothers Bosco & Dre stylin'

But Dre, my doubles partner on the tennis team for only one season before he moved to California, is different. He was different then, and he’s different now. I was different then too, but not Dre kinda different. Dre was always going to be someone to make his mom proud. Me? I probably took at least a decade off my mom’s life.

Tee-shirt by Dre

Not long after my, then, partner and I moved to Fort Myers, Florida, it was Dre who came for a visit, who hung out and played pool with me. Did we hit any balls Dre? We had to! And, I don’t receive many gifts, especially if it isn’t a birthday or something (Stephanie being the exception here), but Dre sent me a treasure made with his own hands. It symbolized one of the most memorable periods of my life: my time as a University of Hartford Hawk.

It truly saddened me when I got his text a few months ago saying that he was and had been in the hospital with COVID for 2 months! So out of touch I had been that I had had no clue. I was thrilled when he sent me the video of him taking his first steps in the hospital during recovery. 

Taylon & Nilan,
Dre & Kim's pride and joy

Yep, Dre should be doing Prudential commercials cause this guy is a rock! I didn’t doubt that he’d be out of the hospital before much longer, and a few weeks later I got the message that he was going home. YES!  He had defied the odds and had made it home. 

Rick Lupert

Ok, I guess after all of the above, it should have been no surprise to me that Dre was the only individual to respond to Rick Lupert’s (and my) call during my featured reading at Cobalt Poets in June 2022 to “tip” the featured reader. I thought I had made it quite clear that any “tips” would find their way back to Rick and the Poetry Super Highway. If you haven’t traveled the Poetry Super Highway, it’s wider and busier than an LA freeway. Check it out some time.

Anyway, after the reading, there were the typical “you were awesomes” but, initially, no tips. I had told Rick that I was going to make my contribution to the Poetry Super Highway cause nonetheless.

After years of providing opportunities for people to share their work- and there’s no more open an open mic than Cobalt- in my naivete, I thought I’d be ordering several copies of Rick’s books to distribute as valuable gifts. Eh-eh. Didn’t work that way.

In any event, I ordered Rick’s God Wrestler from Amazon to do my part. It wasn’t long after I had placed that order that I received notice from PayPal that I had received $$. Seriously?! Turns out that Dre had watched at least some of the post-Cobalt video of the night I had featured and showed his character once again.

Dre’s tip covered the cost of my purchase from Amazon, and after numerous notifications that it would not arrive on time and queries about canceling the order, God Wrestler has finally shown up. I’m looking forward to a more extensive sit down with the collection because Rick has the kind of wit that can pin the biggest of guys or gals- depending on your worldview I suppose.

Bottom line? This is a thank you to Andre N. Miller, my ole DP…that’s doubles partner… for his generosity and support, and to Rick Lupert for what he does with the Poetry Super Highway, Cobalt Poets, Haikuniverse, etc. I enjoy feeling gratitude. Means there's something to be grateful for. Wishing your continued recovery goes smoothly Brother Dre!

MY COLLAPSE IS IMMINENT...BUT BEFORE THAT HAPPENS

Note: Please click on the photos to enlarge for better view.

As the title suggests, my collapse is imminent…my Friday Collapse that is. There are all sorts of collapses, and we seldom know when we’re going to collapse. But this time I know the exact day, date, and time that my collapse will take place…of course, unless another sort of collapse happens before then.

Generalissimo Bryan Franco

Anyway, on Friday July 29, at 7:30pm MDT I will be sharing the Friday Collapse mic with co-feature Generalissimo Bryan Franco, hosts E. Lynn Alexander and Paul Corman-Roberts of Collapse Press, along with other open-micers. I have my fingers crossed that a few of the poignant poets who have moved me might make reading appearances too, but that may be asking too much.

Nevertheless, I will be there to share some thoughts and feelings ensconced in verse with others well-versed in poetology. Would be great to see/hear you there.

Poetry X Hunger- Poets Speak Back to Hunger

I had to lead with the Friday Collapse because I could create a catchy title, but this heads-up is probably the most important of those listed in this post.

If you are interested in using your art and craft to assist in the fight against hunger, then

Fizza Abbas Rabbani

 calendarize Aug. 8 at 2pm EDT. Hiram Larew, founder of Poetry X Hunger- where hundreds of poets from around the world have had their poems that “speak back to hunger” published, and Fizza Abbas Rabbani- an accomplished poet from Pakistan, will be hosting a “Global 90-minute Fund-Raising Reading.”

Attendees and participants can choose to donate to an anti-hunger organization of their choice, to one of the organizations designated to receive proceeds from the event, or to make no donation at all. Your reading and your presence will be significant contributions in and of themselves.

Imminent Readings & Open Mics

Hosts Sandy Yanone, Kim Ports Parsons, and Don Krieger  of Cultivating Voices have a diverse lineup of poets featured in a New Book Showcase this Sunday (12pm PDT). Some lilt and brogue might be in the offing at this event. 

And also on Sunday at 3pm EDT Performance Poets of the Palm Beaches will feature Kerry Trautman, and Gregg Shapiro along with their open mic.

Kerry T’s really getting around, because on Tuesday, July 19 at 6:00pm when SpoFest Poetry and Prose does its usual scintillating thing with three featured poets and a guest author, she’ll be joining R. Nikolas Macioci and Sandra Feen, and guest author, Poet Laureate of Lucas County, Ohio, Jonie McIntire. Rick Christiansen explores a bit more of who Jonie is and what you might expect on Tuesday in this interview. Of course, you’re invited to read in the open mic segment of the show.

Also on Tuesday, at 7:30pm PDT, Cobalt Poets will feature Iván Salinas, an undocumented poet born in Ciudad de México and assistant editor of Drifter Zine, along with the usual open mic extravaganza.

I’m sure there’s lots more going on, but I can’t possibly keep up and these are just a few rays on the horizon that I wanted to note.

DARRELL PARRY: A POET WITH A TWIST...OR TWO...OR THREE

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Look closely, can you see the resemblance? Look closer! If you can see the resemblance it’s likely because you have a very strong, suggestible mind. You see, the resemblance has absolutely nothing to do with hair, glasses, other features that you can see. Perhaps you wouldn’t even be able to “see” it if you read darrell parry’s poems and my expressions.

They are drastically different…On the surface. Beneath language shells, word blankets, and phrasing lids is where you’ll find the kernel, the heat of connection, the “real” shit cooking…in my world…and with the stipulation that he’s writing from within, in darrell’s world as well. Perhaps he’ll forgive me for using this response to Twists: Gathered Ephemera (by Parisian Phoenix Publishing, 2021) to soapbox a little. I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

If you’d told me that I’d be seeing myself in darrell parry and vice versa prior to reading Twists, the title poem, I might not have said, “Get the bleep outta here,” but I suspect a sliver of skepticism might have slipped through my façade. The only inkling I could have had were the eyes. His eyes. You see, they see, and I could see that while seeing him. Even on Zoom.

And the way he sees is not common. darrell lets you know that right off the bat in Twists, when he writes,

“You are not like the others.”

These words please me

The poem then winds its way to darrell professing that he does things the “wrong ways,” ways that I suspect he really means are the “right ways” from his perspective. Is there a perspective that matters more? It sounds to me that he’s saying, “what is ‘right’ to you isn’t necessarily ‘right’ to me, and the straight and narrow that you recommend does not tumble my river rocks nearly as much as the way I flow.”

Because the way he flows leads him to:

“…places that I love,

places that bring me peace,

places that the others do not want to go

because they are not like me.”

Why do I feel like darrell’s my twin, speaking for me? Because if I wrote like he did, I could write the exact same thing.

But even before the wide grin smearing my face after the first poem in the collection, what I’m calling an "epigraph" had coaxed a smile:

Yep, given darrell's comments at Zoom venues, I figured I was in for some crooked smiles.

If I wasn’t sure about darrell’s…uh…orientation? Perspective? Poetic bent? after the “epigraph” and first poem, once I had read The Perfect Shade of Weird, I was sure that I was in the presence of an observer of humanity, a philosopher who had come to grips with his own difference from the norm, from the rest, and would not be shaken…at least in his poetry. I just now read …Weird again and I couldn’t choose an excerpt that would do, so please click on the photo for me, will ya?

Okay, there is so much richness in the collection that I feel I ought to be writing several pages. But the work really speaks for itself. I will offer a few details before I wrap this response up though. 

You’ve got 39 poems spread across four unequally divided sections- you didn’t expect uniformity from darrell, did you? There are poems to chuckle to (see Vacuuming in the Dark, On Men and Beasts), poems to make you look away in wonder (The Bus Poem, Modern Art), poems that threaten to exhume the bodies of your love and un-love lives (Sock Drawer, Words), and poems that mine the mundane in novel ways (How Did Nora Do Today, Old Shoes).  

Several of the poems in Twists are akin to diamonds buried beneath the backyard anthill where you have to think a bit to get to them…except, in the end, you really don’t have to do much work to get it with DP. I finished reading Old Shoes, and thought, “Peeling a fruit might not offer much delight- except in anticipation- but once you get to the succulent flesh it makes the less-than-thrilling peeling so very worth it.”

And that, in essence, was my experience of reading darrell parry’s Twists: Gathered Ephemera. Sure, there was a healthy dose of sardonic humor, but what else would you expect from a guy who plays with devils. In poem after poem, there was something juicy to savor- even if you had to wait for the twist at times. Asked to sum up the collection, I might say something like, "It's lemon-drop poetry- hard and grainy on your tongue, where tangy and sweet fornicate to produce spurts of ecstasy."  

Although not darrell's favorite, the following piece was definitely one of mine. Here's my rendition of Haunted by darrell parry: