The mind, a dormant stone

~~*~~ ~~*~~ ~~*~~ ~~*~~ ~~*~~ ~~*~~ ~~*~~ ~~*~~   My boyfriend thinks Santa Claus is a pedophile ...and that no kid should sit on his lap. Now this makes me sad because I remember a fond moment of visiting Santa for the first time when I was 6 years old. I thought it was an amazing, magical moment! It was a the Village Bookshop in Glendora, CA. I still have a few of the Polaroid snapshots of this visit. I had a bowl haircut and was full of shy insecurity.  I'm sharing this because I'd like to think that I would allow my own child, (if and when), the same opportunity for childhood joy!  Beyond that, I remember one of the best Christmases when Santa really seemed to "visit" my residence. It was so amazing to me because I was old enough to really understand the magic... I mean, I thought all was lost this particular year. There were a few gifts under the tree when I went to sleep. When I woke that morning, it's as if the tre...

never was there a more beautiful sound than that of your eyes knowing that you and I were meant to love one another.  

Ever dream of restoring the Old World? I do... but the old world I long for isn't the 1400s, it's not even the time of antiquity which was quite beautiful and more appreciative of the spoken word that society reflects today... The time I crave is of the last century; the 1940s and 1950s. Of course there is a give and take. I'd like to maintain our evolved way of thinking, our liberation, our rights. However, the times of the 40s and 50s might have continued the way they did because life wasn't as liberal... this is a conundrum of circumstance that I must address and explore. Why does this world appeal to me? Probably because it isn't all that distant, and things were much more attainable then. A meal, a full meal was about $2. Gasoline could be sustained on mere pocket change. I like the quality of life that was exuded back then; when people enunciated and read. We reached out more to the physical than the electronic. People looked at our faces, made eye co...

It was a genuine pleasure to see the turnout last night for our monthly Celebration of the Written Art at the Last Bookstore !   Writers' Row, now on its 9th event, was amazing! 9 is my number, and this night sure points to why...it was mind-blowing! With lyric and soul-wrenching works from Antonieta Villamil and a wonderful attendance with many talented guests taking the mic such as:  Mark Lipman , Peter Coca , CaLokie , and Ernest Rosenthal , I was floored.  The other features of the night included Mehnaz Turner , who delivered a variety of poetic talents ranging from villanelles, "chick-lit" poems, and some raw prose. It was very exciting to come and hear her read at the 'Row. Don Kingfisher Campbell  was also featured and he was kind to bring his colleagues of the Inner Five , which included: Mary Torregrossa , CaLokie , and  Marvin Dorsey . Don also put together and distributed a chapbook containing the work of the Inner Five, which was ...

And then the door opened suddenly. Inside greeting me was a large smile and sparkling eyes, blue as the ocean he often peered at, in genuine appreciation for my return home. I was ultimately stunned that such a beautiful man could beam so full for me. Glowing eyes pulled me in, asked me for a taste of his love. I pulled the hair from my eyes, a veil of humility tugged by fortune. I reached out to him and he grabbed me in for the kiss. His Mother watched...and neither seemed to care. "I've missed you!"   I can see.          I'm taken, swept up if you believe in that. This was love; without lines, insecurities, yes but only imagined in my head . An unleashed passion; the merging of two artists' souls. Off to the room we went. Door shut, locked; not to emerge until the morning shower. Long arms and smiles, the bedside manners so appropriate and longed for. I hate being the first one up, leaving the love nest for the coldest world I know. But...

This was the first song about LOVE that actually meant anything to me. Strangelove by Depeche Mode

Is that the sound of one woman typing? It might just be! I saw a picture floating around of me in a pair of yellow footsie pajamas and a blue typewriter. I was 3 years old. Maybe my parents were trying to tell me something when they gifted it to me for Christmas many years ago. Or maybe it's just coincidence... hmm :) I will have to show you that picture, but in the meantime, here is a photo of the typewriter my writing gig will help me purchase tomorrow, hopefully :) Perhaps this will inspire me to write a manifesto of all the eyeballs in this city. :) Each citizen has two eyes, typically... so that means that there are over 8 million eyeballs floating around the Los Angeles vicinity. Yipes! That also accounts for the amount of legs and arms as well. Just a tidbit. Ah and a HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my good friend, Jayson Pida ! To celebrate his birthday, I will share with you a poem by him! Ahem: I Swear My Blood (in ogham) -- Creeping to the blue stones after the c...

Libertine gestures; just a dainty flicker from the lips to saturate the ground in a rampage of rotten filth and delightful play. The russet of her eyes throws stones to your gut. Amber palate releases sounds, a permanent displeasure overthrown by desire.

crawling around from behind Wilshire Blvd. :) and swimming around behind the corporate facade!

Events Weds, Nov. 16 th Writers’ Row featuring Mehnaz Turner and Antonieta Villamil                 7:30-10pm at The Last Bookstore (453. S. 5 th St. LA, CA 90014)                 Open mic (RSVP to get on the list: venicesoapboxpoets@gmail.com ) 5 mins/2 pieces                 Meet folks, buy books, enjoy the snacks!

One of the best lit experiences to date...inhabiting the legendary Gemini Manor, a Hollywood gem of antiquities and curiosities. Not to mention, the great literary company: Pam Ward, Cheryl Klein, Mike the Poet Sonksen, Suzanne Lummis, and a united energy of noir! There is so much more going on this month of November, sprinkled across the basin. Here's my testimony.

I profess that I must complete at least two books, get them published, then submit my application to teach Creative Writing. Does how many books you write make you a good Writer?  No...but it does help you get the job. Dagnabit! Let's get published shall we!?