Juicy Quote

Photo by Sorgorosso

Italy © 2010

“When fate hands you a lemon, make lemonade.”

- Dale Carnegie

“Take My Heart” by M. C. Lubow

I wish to be a woman in a Chagall painting
Floating in the air, dreaming
Of flowers, magic moments and beaming

I wish he would Chagall me, greet my breasts
As Chagall did when he met an art collector
I only know because she told me with zest

Instead I feel like Frida Kahlo has scooped
Me out… I am bleeding
Red and blue tears from my veins and aorta

My heart hangs out of my body
But my heart still beats with fervor
My heart beats for my imaginary lover

My heart may cry, but refuses to die
I am in mourning for what I thought I had
I am not always this sad
I am going to survive; I am alive

It is time to face the future with courage
With as much dignity as I can gather
It is a soulful matter

My heart will mend
This will not be the end of me
Or will it ?

M. C. Lubow

© 2010

Frida Kahlo

“Fruit For Thought…”

“If you have an apple and I have an apple and we exchange these apples then you and I will still each have one apple. But if you have an idea and I have an idea and we exchange these ideas, then each of us will have two ideas.”

- George Bernard Shaw

Photo “Red Apple” by PoPBunka! 英会話 浜松市

All Rights Reserved

© 2010

“Punch Line” by Yvonne de la Vega

Bailar y ritmo

bailar y ritmo

San Fransisco:  cuttin’ some tracks

with another producer dreamin’ ’bout

himself being the one  to take

poetry out of the Underground

once and for all. He was sure I was the one

“The Poetess”  haha he gave me  a hip hop

name – that fit the bill perfectly for his vision. It’s

weird being the only one in a room with an LA mind.

People talk, I always think they’re joking.    I gotta get outta

that habit, stop smiling, waiting for some punch line.   When

you leave LA no one out there’s got a punch line. Whatever, I love to travel

bailar y ritmo

bailar y ritmo

I’d been through that before

poetry poetry poetry beats

poetry beats beats beats

bailar y ritmo

bailar y ritmo

but afterward,

chuggin’ rum in Martin Luther King Park

drunk and making out. I heard King’s voice.

right when I noticed how beautifully blue

my producer’s eyes were. I was seeing double

but Martin Luther King’s voice was ringing clear.

…eyes that kind of blue were too innocent to ever know

the poets belong in the subversive will always be Underground

they’ll never enter pop there is no message for the dancers. I started

with a whisper as I rose up in Martin Luther King  Park, out of my mouth

came the voice of that slain leader. I whispered, “I want you to think with me this

morning from the subject Rediscovering Lost Values

… R e d i s c o v e r i n g   L o s t   V a l u e s . ”

I   got up and he watched me swing my hips back and forth some extra Betty

Boop, singing loud and drunk

BAILAR Y RRRRRiTMO!!

YAYAYA! I AM

LEAVING ON A

JETPLANE!!!

BYE

He was wasted, his blues eyes glassy,

WHERE YOU GOING?

I was still swinging  my hips

“BAILAR Y RITMO BAILAR!

I’m going back to LA babe!

There is no message for dancers “

He’s still talking even though I ‘m near the street,

DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO HAVE A MESSAGE? he yells.

“NOT REALLY, NOT RIGHT NOW, BUT…”

“BUT

I DO NEED…

I NEED  A PUNCH LINE baby!

“AND IT’S IN LA !”

bye- bye!

-yvonne de la vega

Photo by Desiree Barnes

© 2010

“Fruit Punch” by Thayer/Hicks

pink is the liquid mixed with fruit
dipping in not knowing
glides the glass to the other side of the room
small talk with a flutter of the eye
music mellow in the background
a lover yet to meet
hands pass over midnight you turn pink

and the evening was just a blink

Poem by Mitch Hicks – U.K.

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010

The Jazz Poets Social Club “Rap Up” by Stevie Kalinich

Photo by L. K. Thayer

The evening started with Lisa Thayer.
L. K. Thayer as she is known.
She gets better every time. She is seductive, she sucks you in. She  moves,
she is animated. Some of her images were sizzling and she spoke
with such passion and emotion.
I was definitely taken in.
She commands the stage and she is hot, sultry, sexy and comes
from her gut.
I would tell everyone to listen to Lisa.
She has a great voice as a poet,
a sweet caring soul and she wants to keep the poem
of life alive and squeeze its juice for all to sip and share.
Michael C Ford could recite a phone book
and it would feel like Othello.
His voice resonates and has a timbre
and a musicality
that borders on an instrument
that is a trumpet. He blows the words out at you with fun humor
passion great wit and he calls you into check.
He shows me the energy of the past in the now.He wakes me up and he makes us accountable for
the environment the air we breathe acts we do and he gives in his poems.He promotes other.
Tonight his poem on Silence of the lambs brought the house down.
It is also a great commentary on the times we are living
in
in this age where
people care more about being a star than being an authentic.
Michael is a unique voice but he rise through the tradition from
the Age of the Doors and the old days on Sunset when Sunset was the place to be and experience a great troubled time in history. He restores order in the chaos. At least for me but hear him yourself
experience his brilliance.
These God damn nights are fun between
liquor stores tattoo parlors and Elderberry Juice
which the Elderberry cafe so gracefully presents a forum for our time where the poets can come back to life.
The third poet
was
Joe Kennedy who I have never heard before. I liked him very much. He read from his hand written notebook
He speaks clearly and has a great voice.He has the gift he is alive with his words. I have never experienced him before. I liked it. He touched me made me laugh. He took everything from our daily life. The thoughts we have the feelings to hesitations and presented them in a way that I could relate to and understand. He leaves me wanting to hear more from his endless flow. I just touched the hem of his quilt  of work but I want to experience more of it.

I love to Elderberries, I love Aurora and Dottie and thank them and all the talented musicians like Michael Camacho and the Jazz players Adam Alessi Trio, for making this little spot on Sunset shine again.

Stephen John Kalinich

L. K. Thayer writes: I feel so blessed to work with Stephen Kalinich’s poetic genius that lives in him as if it were life and death, and to him, I truly feel that’s what the words he writes mean to him and he makes you feel every syllable. Like a soft tornado his words fly through the room and hit you with full force, leaving no stone unturned. He is magic and must be seen and heard to be believed.

“The Jazz Poets Social Club” every Sunday Night

Juicy Quote

“It’s a very good feeling to be around a man who thinks women are juicy.”
- Lee Grant

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010

Oscar Wilde

“We live in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities.“

-Oscar Wilde

Bell Hooks

It’s the birthday of writer and activist Bell Hooks, (books by this author) born Gloria Jean Watkins in Hopkinsville, Kentucky (1952). Her father was a janitor, and her mother cleaned homes for white people. She went to a segregated school until she was 10. Her family loved poetry, and whenever there were power outages while she was growing up, the whole family would sit around and recite poems. She loved Wordsworth, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Gwendolyn Brooks, and Langston Hughes. She decided to be a writer, and she published in a Sunday school magazine, and kept writing poems and stories. She graduated from high school and got a scholarship to go to Stanford, and when she was 19 she started her first book. It took her six years to write, but finally she published Ain’t I A Woman: Black Women and Feminism.She said: “Writing is my passion. It is a way to experience the ecstatic. The root understanding of the word ecstasy—’to stand outside’—comes to me in those moments when I am immersed so deeply in the act of thinking and writing that everything else, even flesh, falls away.”

Bell Hooks

“She Left A Burial Note” by Roz Levine

With cardinal colored nails
She tip tapped her burial note
How she wanted to go out just fine
Frothed in finery fit for a female
Of the sex and twist persuasion
How her hair had to be colored
With number 5G
No more
No less
30 minutes of color
Not
One
Minute
Longer
She clicked out that note
How her lips needed Max Oom pah pah
And her eyes, the shadow of purple
Tinged with lilac below the brow line
Don’t forget to tweeze those stray hairs
Please, please, please
She wanted the polka dot g string panties
Under her Spanx hold ins
Beneath the purple passion velvet suit
Over the flesh
That would never more rise
With mother of god orgasms
And don’t forget the wonder bra
The one in flame the world red
It had to hold jiggle free boobs
In the tight oak coffin for eternity.
For Christ’s sake
If they find these remnants
In a hundred years
In five hundred years
In the next millennium
They’d feast their eyes
On some kind of a woman
Who roared to the end
Took the wild with her
To her final earth home.

Roz Levine

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010