Heart on a diet (2-10-14)

All this talk of sweethearts, couples and valentines... it’s that time of year again. This is the last obstacle for me to get past what is always a depressing period. It’s a period of time that is wrought with sadness and cravings. For someone who has traditionally been a comfort eater, it’s also a dangerous time. It starts at Thanksgiving. I begin to miss the family I grew up with… while it wasn’t always an ideal situation; it was always a comfort to know that at the very least I had love in the room with me. After Thanksgiving the longing starts and the holes begin to open. They are hollow inside. It gets worse by Christmas. I see all the movies, the commercials, the activity around me. It feels like the world is moving twice as fast as I. Maybe it’s because when you have someone you move with the purpose of two. On New Years it reaches its’ peak where the loneliness is ready to swallow me whole. There is no midnight kiss, only old acquaintances that I cannot forget or new ones I’ve never met. Afterwards, I’m left with a hangover of pain that stays with me for a few weeks. Things seem to be getting back to normal. The tides appear to be headed back out to sea but then that one last giant wave of suffering crashes into me. It’s called Valentine’s Day.

I haven’t held someone in my arms on Valentine’s Day in 11 years. Perhaps it's bad luck, bad timing but sometimes I feel like it’s hopeless. I’ve had so many missed opportunities, so many rejections and part of me wants to reconcile and accept whatever time I have left as time that will be spent alone. It would be easier than hurting or getting hurt 10 times out of 10. It seems I always want what’s beyond my reach but I don’t care how lonely I get, how horny, how needy, I cannot settle. I can’t settle for a casual fling or a placeholder. I can’t settle for a stepping stone or a fix. I need so much more than that. I need what’s in the stories, the movies, even the commercials. Hell, I probably need more than that too. Today I saw an ad for a teddy bear company that sells 4-foot teddy bears. They say they will guarantee delivery by Valentine’s Day. I look in the mirror and I see a 6 foot 3 teddy bear, an “Eddie bear” that will also guarantee delivery by Valentine’s Day… call now. An operator is standing by.

This is going to be a tough week. 

The Rise of Buffalo Poetry

The Rise of Buffalo Poetry:

Does the thought of poetry get you excited? If the answer is yes, what comes to mind? Abstract imagery?  Explosive protest? Tongue in cheek observation? Poetry can lay claim to all of those things and more. It’s one of the oldest known forms of entertainment, far older than more contemporary art forms like rock n roll, movies and selfies. While it generally flies under the radar, especially in comparison to those other, more high profile forms of expression it is no less important, especially to anyone who ever picked up a book by Charles Bukowski, Allen Ginsberg or Maya Angelou. Now if the thought of poetry doesn’t get you excited, perhaps it’s time for you to check out a “slam”.

 

Since the mid-80s a different kind of poetry has been entertaining people worldwide. It’s called poetry slam. What is it? It’s best to see and experience a slam so you can decide that for yourself but if you need a starting point here you go: slam is poetry on crack. It’s a simple recipe: Take performance poetry, which is already exciting, and then make it competitive. A poetry competition? How absurd! But it’s so much fun! Poetry slam is also interactive. Five random people from the crowd volunteer and are made judges. After the host serves up a sacrificial poet (someone who is not competing in the slam) to help the judges calibrate their scoring, the slam begins. From that point the hopeful poets perform their pieces within the confines of a time limit- going over time results in a score deduction. Poets are then scored by each judge on a scale of 0-10, with the number reflective of how the judge felt about both their content and performance. After a few intense rounds a winner emerges. Got all of that? If you look at it big picture the whole event is very tongue in cheek. Think about it, poetry with a time limit, scoring and a winner declared? This is ART, there are no winners! People who don’t get it (stubborn traditionalists) feel it undermines the integrity of the art form while those who do get it, love it. They know it’s all ridiculous fun.

 

But as silly as the premise of turning poetry into sport may seem, don’t let that fool you into thinking there isn’t something inspiring at work. These poets have plenty to say! As many are now finding out through social media, many moving and relevant works are being shared heavily on YouTube, Facebook or through websites like Upworthy, the Huffington Post and others. These online avenues have brought slam and performance poetry right to the leading edge of the underground and have made poetry more of a viable form of expression, especially to the young, who most appreciate the raw energy and in your face honesty that slam demands.

 

Before the recent social media growth of slam there had been previous attempts to bring the style to the mainstream, think the 6 seasons of Russell Simmons’ Def Poets on HBO, or the popular independent film “Slam”, which introduced many of us to the multi-talented poet Saul Williams. While these and other attempts surely expanded and raised the level of exposure slam has achieved, it still sits in a place that fits just right. Slam is underground enough to be cool, but popular enough to grow. While it seems to be reaching a new high nationally, the evolving art has had many ebbs and flows during it’s now 30 year run and slam poetry in Buffalo is no different, especially in recent years.

 

About 2 years ago local slam poetry received a rebirth when local poet Brandon Williamson founded the Pure Ink Poetry Slam, a monthly poetry slam which took place at Merge Restaurant. It was the first time a regular slam poetry event was held in Buffalo since the late Gabrielle Bouliane moved to Austin, Texas in 2008 and took the very popular monthly Nickel City Slam with her. That event, with the help of the Just Buffalo Literary Center enjoyed a healthy 3 year run during First Fridays in Clifton Hall at the Albright Knox Art Gallery. Ms. Bouliane took the first Buffalo representatives to the annual National Team Poetry Slam competition. With her help and the development of many talented poets, slam was gaining popularly in Buffalo but when she left, in a lot of ways it was if she took most of the scene with her. With its’ biggest local champion gone, local slam poetry became difficult to find. If you looked hard you might find it in at an obscure coffeehouse open mic or through word of mouth… if you knew the right people.  

 

Then in January 2012 Mr. Williamson changed that. With the help of Merge Restaurant he began hosting the Pure Ink Poetry Slam, an event that reintroduced it to area audiences. From the first night, many of the poets who performed during the Nickel City Slam days returned and since then a slow but steady growth of slam around this region has occurred. This has resulted in many dynamic new performers joining in, providing depth and making the Buffalo scene as vibrant and energetic as those Nickel City days, perhaps more so. How much has the Buffalo slam scene grown the past 2 years?

 

In late October of 2013, Pure Ink sent a team representing Buffalo to the first annual Empire State Team Poetry Slam held in Rochester, NY. In that competition Pure Ink defeated teams from Rochester, Syracuse, Suffern and another very talented team from Buffalo to claim the title. Earlier this month Pure Ink Poetry represented Buffalo again in the annual QEW Regional Poetry Slam. Teams from Toronto, Burlington, St. Catharines, Mississauga and Rochester NY took part and once again Pure Ink Poetry did Buffalo proud becoming the first American team to ever win the QEW.

 

What’s next for the reigning Empire State and QEW slam champions? What’s next for Buffalo’s slam scene? As the Pure Ink Poetry Slam begins its’ 3^rd year of existence it’s poised to be bigger than ever. So big that starting this Sunday, it moves to a new home with a new day and time. You can be part of the growth! If you think you’ve got what it takes to compete for the monthly Pure Ink slam title, make sure to bring at least 2 original pieces that do not run longer than 3 minutes and don’t forget to bring the energy. That goes for anyone who wants to attend. You have to be prepared to cheer on the poets, playfully boo the judges and get beyond excited because with slam, energy is everything. Now who would have thought poetry could be so much fun? See for yourself at the next Pure Ink Poetry Slam!

 

Pure Ink Poetry Slam

Sunday January 26th and every 4^th Sunday of the month
At The Gypsy Parlor
376 Grant St. Buffalo
6pm, $5 at the door
All Ages- although the language and subject matter may not be suitable for children.

http://www.pureinkpoetry.com

https://www.facebook.com/events/606233299462857/?ref_dashboard_filter=upcoming

The Right Choices (9-27-13)

Remember those plans we had at the beginning of the day? How about those plans we made the night before? I’m not really talking about plans we made with other people. They are the plans we made for ourselves- perhaps an outline to keep us on track and productive, or maybe a blueprint needed to best utilize our time, because let’s face it, there’s never enough time. How well do we stick to these plans? How much of what we think we intend to do is subject to change? How often do we plan to do one thing but instead end up doing the opposite?

“No, wait a minute… I always have tuna on toast. Nothing's ever worked out for me with tuna on toast. I want the complete opposite of tuna on toast. Chicken salad, on rye, untoasted ... and a cup of tea.” –George Costanza

Everybody knows how delicate life is, how short the amount of time we get on this earth can be but that doesn’t stop us from procrastinating like our lives depend on it! We waver, flip-flop, make excuses, rationalize and become indecisive. We make decisions based on our mood. We sacrifice long term happiness for short term bliss. We change our minds so easily and we do so for the silliest of reasons.

The worst part about it is we know what we are supposed to do. We know which path is the one we should take but we allow ourselves to get distracted. We choose to do the wrong thing because it feels good, tastes good or looks good. We put things off and then tell other people; “oh, the thing that happened was”. Sometimes we might even get people to feel sympathy for us since this “other thing” happened that prevented us from doing what we planned but that other thing is us! So what do we tell ourselves? How do we rationalize excuses within? How do we get away with it? Why don’t we hold ourselves accountable?

I’m not sure we do get away with it. Maybe we pretend we do in the present sense but the damage gets done. We add more stress, more pain, more weight, more debt, more time spent anxious that would have been better spent relaxing after we took care of whatever we had to do. This conflict within limits us. I sometimes like to fool myself by thinking I can accomplish so much more than I do but it’s just a case where I choose not to. I choose to stop here. I choose to overdo it. I choose to have another serving. I choose to sleep in. I choose to spend money I shouldn’t spend. Yes it is a choice and because we know it is, we validate bad decisions but we are doing nothing more than lying to ourselves and we’ve gotten really good at it! Lying to yourself isn’t easy, you know all your tricks, so the best lies, the most convincing ones, the most devious ones are the ones we tell ourselves.

This happens to me all the time; I know I should do something but I really want to do something else. I feel like I have choices when maybe there shouldn’t be one. I chalk it up to immaturity both in my actions and my thoughts. It’s something I have to work on. It’s something I have worked on. I also settle for the bare minimum most of the time. I tell myself not to be greedy, just get what you need and be done with it. I do this in many areas, except one crucial one, love. When it comes to love, when it comes to potential mates, I don’t settle. I do anything but settle. Maybe this happens because in this department my heart overrules my head, and my heart… doesn’t play around. But when my head is in charge and that’s most of the time, look out because who knows which way the wind blows.

“If every instinct you have is wrong, then the opposite would have to be right.”  -Jerry Seinfeld

When I know I have to do something but my mind instead wants to convince me to have fun, indulge or do the easy or lazy thing I have to be strong of mind. When impulses mask themselves as instincts I need to be wise enough to see through them and do the opposite. What I feel like I desperately want at this moment isn’t worth the cost of something I need down the road. It sounds easy, I mean I just typed it but following through, putting the preaching into practice is where the message gets lost in translation. I need to remind myself often.

When my mind craves/wants something I shouldn’t give in. There’s a difference between being young at heart and being young at mind. Frankly, my inner child is spoiled rotten. He always wants to push it a little longer, linger, fester and opt for fun over responsibility, chillin’ over working, excuses over solutions.  I don’t even know why I need to have this conversation with myself because I’d like to think I know right from wrong and I’m smart enough to see through my own ruses. Do you know what the funniest part of this whole conversation is? Doing the right thing often feels just as good if not better than doing the “fun” thing. The only difference, other than helping over hurting is that the good feeling doesn’t come quickly enough when we have to make the right decision. In this day and age when everyone has the attention span of only 140 characters, we want it now. We convince ourselves that we need instant gratification over hard earned satisfaction but instant gratification isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

For example:

My job allows me to work pretty much whenever I want to get my 40 hours in during the week. I have 7 days to play with and Monday through Saturday we are open from 10am to 8pm. Now, on weekdays I could come in an hour or two earlier as there is usually someone in the building earlier than 10 so from Monday through Friday my window is more like 8-8. Do I take advantage of this? No I don’t. I often go in as late as I can and in some cases I work so few hours on the weekdays that I have to go in on Saturdays to make up the time I am short. It’s not even a matter of sleeping in. Most days I sleep no later than 9:30 or 10 but I might not head in to work til Noon or later. On nights where I have something planned after work (you know, something fun) I do go in earlier because I can’t stay later but without that incentive I’ve gotten into a rut where I am in no hurry to get to work in the mornings. I sit at my computer and I write, I read, I watch Sportscenter and I play with a cat. These are all things I could do after work but why wait, right? I want to have fun now! I want to do what I want when I want it. It’s like I’ve convinced myself that being an adult entitles me to be a child.

Well, the truth of the matter is that when I go in late I’m usually not in the greatest mood. It’s like I was outside playing and my mom called me in for the night. Since my fun was cut short I now have to make the switch to work-mode for several hours before I can have fun again. Making the switch from funtime to serious-time never goes over well, that’s why we usually go to sleep shortly after we make that switch at night but to make that switch in the late morning, it’s just not natural. I know this because yesterday I came into work early and I noticed something. While I was a little grumpy because it was early and because I’m not used to that, once I got into work and settled in, my mood was great. I was happier than usual. Perhaps not having “fun” for 2-3 hours right before coming in made it easier to adapt. Now, much like work used to be or even how school used to be, I’m really looking forward to the end of the day so I can unwind a bit. It almost feels like I’ve earned it more today than yesterday when I showed up after 1pm. Maybe there’s something to this whole satisfaction over gratification thing. Maybe if I get right into my responsibilities instead of right into the fun, the fun later on means more. It’s more satisfying. There’s that word again.

A similar thing happens when it comes to my diet. I’m traditionally a very emotional eater, plus I always try to enjoy too much of a good thing and that makes me a downright dangerous eater. Once I start having fun I often overdo it. At my worst I’ll scarf down sweets like I was on a dessert island the last few years but you know what? When I give in to my cravings it might feel pretty good at that moment but not even 10 minutes after I finish the chicken wings, the cookies, the ice cream, the pizza or the sexy bread the guilt starts creeping in. I always know it is coming but something convinces me that a quick fix is the way to go. I truly am a junk food junkie! A couple months back I posted something about how my diet needs to grow up. Maybe it’s more than my diet.

Then there are those times where I control the cravings and make the healthy choices. When that happens I feel proud in a way that scoring a pack of raspberry Zingers can’t provide. I feel happy with myself. It’s a tremendous feeling and I know this but then the next day is like the first day as I’m back to that struggle between a delicious here and now over a tasty tomorrow. Considering how good I feel when I eat right, or when I find the time to get in a work out, you’d think I’d be addicted to THOSE things. Instead I’m often upset with myself because when I have to make the right choice I’ve done the opposite.

For all my failures there are some impulse success stories too. There are times when indulging the cravings pays off. When I was younger I used to write poetry. Granted it was silly stuff and overly cheesy romantic verse but I used to write. I dreamed of one day performing my work but I was too afraid. I was terrified of public speaking and I lacked confidence and with that stalemate the dream eventually went poof. Then several years later I started going to poetry slams and the dream was reborn. I went to this monthly slam starting back in 2006 and continued to go nearly every month for 2 years. The dream was reborn. Finally I heard some poetry that really spoke to me. It inspired me. Suddenly the cravings were back. The cravings to write and perform my work for others returned… but the roles were reversed. I fought the cravings. Fear and insecurity defeated the cravings for a time but finally by 2009 I was ready (just barely) to perform my work for others and I went out to my first open mic. Slowly I gave into the cravings. By 2010 I started to read out monthly and during this past year I began appearing regularly around town. By now the cravings have won. In this instance giving into them and doing the opposite of the easy thing worked out.

I guess my point is that we have to know when and where to give in to our desires but that’s only the start. For the most part we already know what’s best but actually making the right choice plays a pivotal role. Knowing really is only half the battle. After all, what good is knowing the difference between good and bad choices if we are going to make the bad ones most of the time? That just introduces guilt because we know we're wrong. We may as well be as ignorant as we want to act. If you’re like me and there’s this demanding little voice that’s always telling us to do the fun or easy thing maybe it’s best if we just do the opposite. 

“Yes, I will do the opposite. I used to sit here and do nothing, and regret it for the rest of the day, so now I will do the opposite, and I will do something!”  -George Costanza

Necessary (9-18-13)

Hobbies are supposed to bring you joy. That’s why we pursue them. We do the things we love to get away from the things we don’t. Maybe we do them to escape the daily grind or to help us cope. Anyone who has one knows the joy and comfort they bring to us. More than that I think everybody remembers what the first time was like, you know, when you discover it- a new hobby to pass the time, an exciting interest that breathes new life into you. It makes us feel taller. It makes us feel like the people we’ve always wanted to be.

When I first started writing poetry 3-4 years ago I thought it would be a fun little hobby, perhaps a way to deal with the ups and down of life. Along the way I’ve learned an important lesson about it. When you can write it, you must write it. Once you realize that you can put your thoughts down to paper, once you accept the fact that your emotions, opinions and dreams can come alive on that page you now have an obligation to keep going. You must. It becomes more than a hobby, it becomes necessary.

Over time writing poetry has become therapeutic for me. Each poem is like a photograph. It’s a moment in time, captured. This was the time I was in love, this one was the time I was bullied, insecure, amazed, thankful, afraid, etc. It helps me to get the bad energy out of my system, and let me tell you, some of that pain has been there a long time. When I talk about how my grandparents wanted me to be aborted because they didn’t want a “mixed” child, that’s something that’s been with me for over 20 years. When I talk about getting bullied in high school, my first love, my weight problems, those are issues that are not new. Sure, there are also pieces about recent events but everything I write has been a byproduct of this journey I’ve been on my whole life. I learned early on to write for myself and I definitely do but I would be foolish not of think of others as well. Sometimes I write deeply personal pieces and I need to write them for me but the more I’ve performed them out in the world I’ve noticed other people relate to them. Some people have gone through similar things, felt similar ways and it floors me. To think I could speak for others in any way is a very humbling feeling. It was only a few years ago where I couldn’t even speak for myself.

I don’t know if I spoke for anyone Monday night at Babeville’s 9^th Ward but damn was it a rewarding experience. I had the opportunity to open for Saul Williams. Hold on, I have to type that again; I opened for Saul Williams. I still can’t believe that happened. When I started to read out almost 3 years ago I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking so sometimes I had to hold the paper with 2 hands just so I could steady it enough to read it. I was absolutely petrified to have everyone look at me, let alone listen to me. My voice was soft and searching for the right volume, the right rhythm, even the right words. One of my first times out, I actually let a bad day and some insecurities turn me around and make me run out the door before a reading. I went home that night, cried a little, wrote a wonderful poem about such a terrible night and made the most of a bad situation. To this day, even though I’ve probably read over 70-80 times now I still tremble, I still sweat like I’m being tortured and I still get butterflies like you won’t believe but I’ve come so far. I’ve read for 2 people and 200. I’ve read for all ages, all colors and Monday was the culmination of all that work, all those nerves and a journey that shall continue, perhaps for as long as I live. There I was sharing the same stage with one of the titans of modern poetry, modern art. Part of me still feels like I had no business being on that same stage, like who am I? Then a different part of me reminds me that I am Eddie Gomez and I am a poet. I am a storyteller and my work is far from over.

In other news I am going to read the Alchemist again. I’ve already read it 3 times the last 6-7 years since I’ve owned it but I think of that book the same way people think of religious books, hell THE religious book. I think of it the same way people who go to church regularly or semi-regularly think of the word. They have to go church every now and then and remind themselves and reinforce what they believe in. They have to go and pay respects to the word. It’s the same thing for me and that book. I have to revisit it from time to time to reinforce and refresh the valuable lessons inside. I know that sometimes I lose my way and have to be reminded again of what’s important.

It’s been a heck of a week already, maybe even a heck of a year in some respects and because of how improbably awesome things have gotten, I’m starting to believe that things can get even improbably better! How’s that for optimism… thank you poetry.  

One Down, Two to Go... (7-29-13)

As I rode my bike down to Allen Street for my first Infringement Festival show of this year the usual pre-show nerves were kicking in. I had low expectations for this show but that didn’t mean I wasn’t nervous. I’m always nervous. That part of my mind that was too afraid to get on the stage for most of my life is still inside of me. It still tries to communicate. It still doubts and worries and sometimes tries to talk me out of commitments. I think it means well. I think it’s just trying to protect me from disappointments, embarrassment and pain but as I’ve gotten older and more confident in my abilities as both a person and an artist I’ve learned when and where to take that voice into consideration. After all, it’s a bit overprotective.

But my concerns about this show were real. I was performing at a clothing boutique I knew very little about. It was at the edge of Allen where Wadsworth meets it. I knew there’d be a lot of people at the College Street Block Party down the street but I had no idea if anyone would be checking out my out of the way show. I thought; I’d probably have at least a few friends there so it won’t be all bad.

I reached Allen, locked up my bike and went over to Picasso Moon to meet their staff and let them know I was there. I looked over at Days Park and there wasn’t anything going on so I wouldn’t be able to get any audience from there. Next door at The Bend there was a rock band playing and all the doors were propped open making it very loud as I stood in front of Picasso Moon. I remember thinking that it was a good thing I was performing inside. Maybe we’d have to close the door so the audience could hear me clearly.

I walked in and saw a few customers looking through the clothing and accessories. It wasn’t a small store but there wasn’t a lot of space in there because there were a lot of items. I wondered where exactly I was going to be performing. I walked towards the guy behind the counter. He told me his name was Lindsey and by the way he talked, I sensed he owned or ran the store. I let him know who I was and with some warmth and a big smile he made me feel welcome. He told me the stage was outside and I went out to see what he was talking about because I guessed I had missed it on the way in.

I stepped outside and saw what he was talking about. It was a little one person stage with maroon fabric curtains and a sign that read “Infringement Stage”. It was adorable but I wasn’t sure if I would perform on it due to it being small (I have a hard time standing still when I read) and the fact that it was kind of facing Days Park more than Allen. If anything I’d perform on the sidewalk right in front or next to it. In the meantime it was 6:40 and I had 20 minutes to sit, wait and really get nervous!

I pulled out my poetry folder and took out the 7 poems I was going to perform. I started going through them and making minor adjustments here and there because no poem is ever truly finished and I’d pop my head up every so often to see if any familiar faces were approaching. The weather was cool and pleasant and I thought about the dynamic of performing right on the street, or sidewalk as it were. With the exception of one time 3 years ago I’ve never performed outside in public and that one time, I read one poem on a corner for 3 friends when no one else was around. This was different. Anyone who was walking by the high foot traffic area could stop and listen. I reminded myself to be aware of my surroundings because although I didn’t think there were any curses in any of the pieces I would be performing in a matter of minutes, if some little ones walked by, I didn’t want to say anything objectionable or even suggestive in their presence. Call me old fashioned but I care about the kids’ ears.

After being lost in my mind going through scenarios good and bad I looked at the time… it was 5 minutes to 7pm. Five minutes to show time and there was NO ONE there! That little voice I talked about at the beginning really began to get loud inside my head. What if no one shows? Should I still perform? And if I perform, should I do all 7 pieces and use the full half hour? It wasn’t like anyone was coming up after me. In fact there wasn’t anyone before me and that’s why I had low expectations to begin with. I was doing a stand-alone show and without a lead-in or a performance following mine it was entirely on me to draw a crowd.

When I first started reading poetry crowds were easy to come by. There was a novelty to it. Ed, who is shy and private actually going up and spilling out his soul… it needed to be seen and it was. Some early open mic appearances 2 years ago could generate 5, 6 or even 10 friends coming down to see it. My first Infringement show in 2011 had something like 40 people there. I felt so lucky. But when I think about the pieces I performed that day as opposed to now I cringe. I’m now 5 times the poet that I was then. My confidence and presence have improved as well as my writing and while my pieces are as sharp as they’ve ever been I still maintain that same relativity, vulnerability and accessibility that all those early pieces had, if not more so now. The fact that no one really comes out to hear me read anymore hurts a bit and on the cusp of my first Infringement show of the year it was hurting a lot.

So here I was, just moments from performing a show I’ve looked forward to for months in front of this strange place, performing outside for really the first time and there was no audience whatsoever and this band was rocking hard and loud next door. I began to despair. Am I supposed to be some kind of poet pied piper? I read and then they’ll come. Who would hear me unless they were passing directly by? The voice inside was still telling me to escape. To get the hell out of there, grab some ice cream, and to paraphrase one of my pieces, get a 3-way going with Ben and Jerry.

My emotions fuel my poetry but they can also influence me negatively. When the time came to begin and no one had arrived. I just wanted to run away and hide and never come out again, embarrassed and hurt to degrees of which I haven’t been in a long time. But that emotion, while it can hinder me, also makes me the person and the poet that I am and I’ve used it, not only to become a good poet but also to get through moments like this one. 

In the 3 years I’ve been a poet, I’ve learned so much and come so far. One of the most important things I’ve learned along the way came from the old Caffé Aroma open mic days and 80-something year old poet Al Felix. He told me to do it for myself. That if I’m not doing it for my own benefit that I’ll never be that great of a poet nor will I enjoy myself. Then I thought of Bukowski who said that if it isn’t bursting out of you, in spite of everything, don’t do it! Well it is bursting out of me. Since I opened the dam, it has definitely come bursting through and the longer this journey goes, the stronger the flow seems to get. The flow is bursting with heartbreak, setbacks, losses, dreams, hope, admiration and so much more. The bottom line is I’ve come too far to let a crowdless crowd stop me now. I would wait til a little after 7 in case people were having parking issues and then I would read. I wouldn’t read all 7 pieces, maybe 3 or 4 and then reevaluate from there.

Then right at 7 a great omen occurred… the band next door at the Bend stopped playing. I guess they were done. A minute after that a ray of light approached in the form of my friend from work and 2 of his friends a block away on Allen and getter closer. So I had 3 people coming. 3 is definitely better than zero! When they arrived I was very happy to see them. They were surprised when I told them I was performing out in front of the store. I told them I’d start in a few as I wanted to give anyone else who was coming from as far away as they did (they parked near Delaware Ave.) a chance to make it down.

It was nearing ten after 7 when I decided to begin. My thought was so what if only 3 people made it down… those 3 people were going to get a hell of a performance! Plus they had never seen me before so there was the fun of making a powerful impression on them.

I took one last look down Allen to see if anyone I knew was coming and after I couldn’t see any familiar faces I turned my attention back to the 3 who made it and let my first poem rip. I did “Modern Day Fairy Tale” a story about how I collect movies very seriously but hardly watch them as I await the right woman to start watching them with. I jumped into “One Plus None” my piece about my lifelong battle with isolation, then “The Poet Soul”, my piece about what poetry means to me. I told them I was only going to do 4-5 pieces but I started to rethink that because as I was doing the 2^nd piece a few men came over and sat on the curb and then during the 3^rd piece two couples, one older and one younger came over and started to develop a nice little half circle with the 3 people who were there from the beginning. As I began my 4^th piece “Newtown” a few more people came by and stopped and when I began my 5^th and so called final piece “Home” I looked up to see a few more people were there as well as a few people listening from over at the Bend’s front mini-patio.

Now that there was about a dozen people, and mostly strangers taking in my words I decided to do one more piece. I got into “The Angry Poet” and at the end got a hug from one of the guys looking on. At the end of every piece I could even hear Lindsey behind the counter inside clapping as loud as any of the onlookers. I just had to do one more piece. I had planned to do 7 anyway, so I did the tale of unrequited love and friendship “For Her” and then ended to a very warm response. I made sure to let everyone know about my 2 remaining shows during the rest of the Infringement Festival. Many of the onlookers approached me afterwards to tell me how much they enjoyed my work. The young couple came over and the young female told me she had seen me before at a poetry slam at Merge 2 months prior and that she really loved my piece about my music history. That was the night I won the slam for the first time and did my biological music piece “I Like Everything” as an encore. I thanked her sincerely and mentioned how I was going to do that piece Tuesday night.

I thanked everyone for listening. I went back in and thanked Lindsey again for allowing me (and the Infringement festival) to perform in front of his place and he asked me to come back and read for some weekly Thursday night series which is starting after Infringement in August. It was truly a night of surprises. My emotions were all over place but I didn’t let the bad ones take control of me. I stayed the course and had a very lovely time despite the inauspicious start to it. It goes to show you the power of words. It shows me the power of my words and of course it shows the power and unpredictability of the Infringement Festival.

Tomorrow (Tuesday) night I’m expecting a bigger crowd because I am performing with other poets who have their own sets of friends and fans and because it has been better promoted than my first show was (again a testament to the other people involved). The show is at 1045 Elmwood, right next to Poster Art and Bird Ave. The poetry begins at 7 and I wrap up the show at 8. I hope to see you there.