Wednesday, October 27, 2004

old poem needs new tricks

so i had a very recent poem i was hoping to post on here soon... and then i stumbled upon this and i need help. i wrote it a few years ago, but workshopped it for the first time this week. after some minor revision, i thought i'd bring it to the table (or bar, as it may be more appropriate for this group). i'll let you all read it first, and list my specific questions at the end of the post. it's a very dear poem to me, and any feedback you all can give me would be so appreciated. i value each and every one of your opinions so much...

Love, Mom

June—you watch lavender gowns
sway down rose petal aisles,
dream of the five who will wear them
when someday you follow
wearing white, carrying my love
in diamond studs, his
love in rings.

That June, he will know every inch
of you, but never know me beyond
your diamond ears he kisses,
lace he unbuttons revealing
a garter strung to match
lavender dresses I chose
for your maids when

it was January. You were fifteen
in my hospital room,
bouquets of flowers, glass
vases on frosted windowsill, your hand
in mine, fingers traced cold
lavender veins up and down my
arms as I wrote out last words,
wedding plans, love,

questions: is the chronology confusing? i just like the poem so much as is, but it goes present, future, past. does that work? can i do something to make it work better? is the use of June, June, January effective? i just added January, does it help? hinder? is it doing anything? gosh, i don't know... where do i need clarity, to add, to subtract... i don't know where to go with it, help me...

Monday, October 25, 2004

Pirates love poetry

On a comedic-opera kick, I picked up Gilbert & Sullivan's The Pirates of Penzance (and also The Mikado and H.M.S. Pinafore) at the Library. Good suff, but I found a great section of the first act finale that I had forgotten about. I think its applicable to this group.

Although our dark career
Sometimes involves the crime of stealing,
We rather think that we're
Not altogether void of feeling.
Although we live by strife,
We're always sorry to begin it,
For what, we ask, is life
Without a touch of Poetry in it?
(all kneel)

Hail, Poetry, thou heav'n-born maid!
Thou gildest e'en the pirate's trade.
Hail, flowing fount of sentiment!
All hail, all hail, divine emollient!

Yeah. And good ole Amazon lets you listen to the best part it for free in Windows Media or RealAudio. Seriously, do it. It will make your day.

Its not in the Cards

I'm sorry to make this announcement but I will not be able to attend the DOGWOOD Festival to hear the infamous mr collins. I was planning on going, planning on hitting the scene in dowagiac; at least buying a t-shirt. Mrs Leahey was set babysitting the good boy, Major too. I know a few are you are going that I told I'd be there-

The Red Sox picked it up in New York, and I'll be down in St. Louis to see the Sox win a game of cards.

Anyhow Jack will always be my poet laureate. Captain my captain.

MORE WRITING ON THE DPS BLOG, I can't see the drinking, but I can read your words.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

a note from the cap'n

(Our Cap'n replied to an email of mine today and asked me to share this with you all...)

I'm really sorry everyone about not writing in the blog. I have been unbelievably swamped this semester. Wow. It's a good thing I love doing this or I'd be in the madhouse. My not writing doesn't mean a thing other than I am the one missing out. Here's wishing you all the best. And how about that Phil and his award winning story!!!!

(p.s. Phil and his award winning story?!? What is this all about Phil??)

Slam Poet this Friday

If you're in the Holland area tomorrow (friday), you can catch a cool slam poet at Hope.

Gemineye is the poet who will be in the Kletz Friday at 8:30.

The event is sponsored by Hope's SAC but I'm sure they won't mind if a few alums show up. SAC Co-Director Katie Randa has blogged her favorite Gemineye poem if you want to check him out.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Come on over

HEY EVERYBODY!!! Well, the word around town is that I am finally here in Holland. So if you too are here in Holland, or possibly nearby, like Zealand, or Chicago, or Florida, you should also do what you have to do to also be here in Holland, cause I want to see you. Anyway, I think I heard something about a DPS meeting tonight at the brewery or something, so I figure that will be a good place to find all you I will see you there!!! Lovies.

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

toddie the little lost techie

..ok, so thanks to budris i think i may have this thing figured out....we shall see if it actually works, im not always the smartest cookie :) so this is my "hello" and "i love you all" post and thanks for letting me be a part of you. i think i may go take a walk now...autumn around here is my favorite go get your cheeks pink and write about the colorful quietness of fall. i cant stinken wait until you are all here!

For all you people in Indiana

The editorial

The, “fucker,” threw it in
filed a report
left me high and dry
mom took all the booze
trendy words
I looked at her
missing this shit
A few times a week
she’s a left wing nut ball
parking spot needed
blush glass
smacking here
crazy passion
creating words
held apart
shoe string

Saturday, October 16, 2004

dps meeting!

for those of you who missed or have since forgotten kyle del's earlier post... i'm reminding you!!

this wednesday, oct 20th there will be a dps meeting at the brewery. that's right, the crazy poets are making an appearance at stein night. i'm taking my free absences from grad classes. kyle del will be in from new york. willie is coming in from minnesota (and is leaving in less than a month for new zealand! so this is a last chance to buy the kid a drink for awhile!). i hear a rumor that matt nickel might even be making it in... (i hope so matt!) so i expect all you still-in-holland folk to show up. and the rest of you should get your butts in a car and drive out. somewhere between 9:30-10pm. bring a stein. bring poems. someone bring jack. i'm counting down the days. can't wait to see you all.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Danger in Detroit?

Follow the bouncing Red hat?

Trouble's brewing ... oops, I mean fermenting ...

Hadji and I intend to do our best impression of drunk wino's this weekend in Detroit. All are invited and there will be a place to crash(I'm volunteering Hadji's apartment on this one).

See you there,


for your enjoyment...

Well, I caught some sort of bug, cause I can't stop writing, I'm sure it will disappear soon, but until then I'm gonna ride this thing out. Here's the latest...

The Crushes That Slip Between the Couch Cushions

I sit in this coffee house everyday,
and everyday I am stunned by some beauty
that walks through the door.

Soft brown hair tumbling down her
shoulders and spilling over her earthy sweater,
or a pair of deep chocolate eyes

telling of the exhaustion of innocence
and age. A compelling book in her lap or a pen,
ready to dictate the wildest dreams,

loveliest memories, or truest fears on a slightly
used napkin. Everyday I try halfheartedly to catch her
eye, to flash a smile.

In my mind
I explore the wonders of an unfolding romance,
Sunday papers in the living room, vineyard

walks in Italy, impatient sex
in the car, or Broadway plays
in my mind.

I know pursuing this evanescent crush
would be poisoning Athena, a swift destruction
of perfect beauty. And so the eyes go

uncaught. The smiles unflashed. That was
at least until She caught my eye,
until She smiled first. Slightly coy

but far from shy, she danced
between tables, allowing her curiosity
to lead her through her surroundings,

an infectiously excited guide, pointing
out oddly placed colors
and misshapen lines on the feet of each table,

and chair, and pair of crooked legs.
She would disappear
behind a couch, bury her face

in the cushions or study the contrast of piano keys
on silence, then return to stare and smile
purposefully in my direction, resuming her gentle swaying

excuse for dancing. Then, just when it seemed
as though she would come take my hand,
directing me through the cafe to teach me everything

she had just discovered, she would giggle,
turning a skittish shoulder in favor of the safety
behind the couch.

Causing me to smile and think to myself,
is there anything more beautiful
than a flirting three year-old?

Hope you enjoyed...keep writing. I'm gonna go get a drink. As always...puttin the Drunk back in Drunk Poets Society. Loves ya'll.

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

I just wanted to point out that John Kerry has made a commitment to the arts. I hope every drunk poet is planning on voting. If you'd like to read more about Kerry's plans check out:
I thought maybe a good poetry prompt:
"Somewhere a village is missing their idiot...please send him back."

DOGWOOD billy collins

The Dogwood Fine Arts Festival
-Billy Collins-
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
7:30 p.m.
Central Middle School Auditorium
Dowagiac, Michigan
For More Information:
269 782 8070
Kids, I thought you might be interested. Dowagiac is kinda in the middle of nowhere...but only a little more than an hour south of Hope. I know a few drunken poets from the chicago chapter may be attending. Tickets/reservations are required.

Christmas 2004 Chapbook X Change

Okay Drunk poets (and I guess now, sexy poets) we need to talk about chapbooks.

A few of us were thinking of putting together chapbooks for christmas time and I love the idea still but we need to keep on the ball.

So I propose we institute a schedual for ourselves:
By midnight on November 15th we bring together between 5 and 10 poems that we intend on putting in our chapbook.

Also, if you are a poet who would like to participate email your mailing address to me at then I will forward everyones email and mailing address to everyone for the final mailling.

And on Drew's suggestion, we should do a secret santa where we send a wacky salvaged item for last minute inspiration for poems before christmas based on interested parties.

A prompt and a poem and sex

OK, actually no sex, but I had to throw something in there to grab your attention. But as promised...I do have a prompt, and a poem for your pleasure (notice the sexual reference).


Go somewhere a coffee shop, and notice something out of the ordinary, but at the same time bold enough to stand out to everyone. For example, tonight, I was having a cup of coffee, and in walked a 5 (or so) year old kid, dressed in full cowboy get up. I'm talking leather jacket, cowboy hat, jeans, and boots. You have to notice something that cute. Now, try to notice something out of the ordinary about the thing that is out of the ordinary. Try to notice something small about the thing, that not everyone else will notice. Again, for example...the cowboy kid...was carrying a tippy cup. A cowboy with a tippy cup! Now if that isn't funny shit...I don't know what is. Let something like that be your inspiration to get going on a poem.

This is a work in progress...I just wrote it tonight, and only have it in short hand, but here you go...

caffeinated Zen Garden

There is something appealing
about rearranging furniture
in a cafe. A strange
taboo art form, the cultivating
of a caffeinated zen garden.
I wonder if the sofa will caress
the old easter colored man
to sleep faster
if it is facing that way
or this. Will the concentration
be pure if the table
is oriented thusly?
If the tables are pulled
will the chess game end
on the tenth move or
the thirtyfirst?
Or will the intensity
of each pawn float
away if the tables are left
as they are now? Polished
wooden enemies engaged
in a furious battle, a war
too long
for even Helen to instigate.
Victors standing still
and lonely contemplating
those that fell
silently into the vast
abyss between my table
and theirs. Or will the music
the corduroy man is writing
be busier if there are four
chairs at his table
rather than three?
Do the spots
closer to the window
seduce thoughts to wander?
Spinning through the fall air
and hastily evaporating
into a monogamous mixture
of moonlight
and cigarette smoke?
And if so, do the seats
in back, preciously guarded
from the disturbances
of natural air
and light force strict
attentiveness on the ramifications
of calculus, or the understated
voice of Rosencrantz?
And would I be infected
by a poem if I had instead
chosen to face
the piano? Or would Lady Muse
have urged me to justify
this silence
with an inspired
performance of chopsticks?

Saturday, October 09, 2004

Learning to Breathe...

just wanted to send some love to my favorite poets! I spent the last week teaching poetry to 12th graders, and had so much fun doing it! We started with Billy Collins and Jack Ridl -- can't get much better than that. :) In any case, after a long week, I needed to read my favorite matt nickel poem one more time....just thought I'd share it with you.

Learning to Breathe

If there were some other way
I would take it.

Throw my leather satchel,
suitcase, guitar, camera
in the trunk,

We are taught to stay.

So I won't live in Vienna
or road trip to Vancouver,
run out of money
and settle down
to work a cafe, just to get by.

I won't let my car break down
passing through Idaho
for the final destination.

I won't get lost driving
through Montana,
North Dakota,
or even Michigan.

I am supposed to buy her a ring
or two,
settle down
letting the glow of prime time
turn my face blue,
her hand keeping my chest warm.

...makes me want to get into the car and drive, or take a plane to europe. But most importantly, it reminds me why I love poetry and why I can't wait for a week and a half from now when some of us are finally back together again! Love to you.

Friday, October 08, 2004

Why we write

All right poets...I know that many or all of you have probably read this poem before, but I just read it today for the first time ever and I thought it was awesome, and particularily applicable to this group of poets on this particular blog. Anyway, it's by the wonderful Billy Collins.


Now it is time to say what you have to say.
The room is quiet.
The whirring fan has been unplugged,
and the girl who was tapping
a pencil on her desktop has been removed.

So tell us what was on your mind.
We want to hear the sound of your foliage,
the unraveling of your toolkit,
your songs of lonliness,
your songs of hurt.

The trains are motionless on the tracks,
the ships at rest in the harbor.
The dogs are cocking their heads
and the gods are peering down from their balloons.
The town is hushed,

and everyone here has a copy.
So tell us about your parents-
your father behind the steering wheel,
your cruel mother at the sink.
Let's hear about all the clouds you saw, all the trees.

Read the poem you brought with you tonight.
The ocean has stopped sloshing around,
and even Beethoven
is sitting up in his deathbed,
his cold hearing-horn inserted in one ear.

That just reminded me so much of our wonderfull Jack 255 class (sorry to those who were not blessed with the pleasure). We came together and told our silliest moments, our biggest fears, our worst heartbreaks. No subject was subject was off limits. That's why we were so close. We lauhged together...we cried together...we drank together...we just plain lived together, and even if it was for only a semester, it was the best I'd ever had (notice the sexual reference). Thanks again to the original DPS...I miss and love you all.

your boy will...

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

I need drunk poet help!

My dear drunk and poetic friends,
In the massive amounts of spare time that I have had recently between managing a new winery (with only two employees other than myself), make wine, study wine at schoolcraft culinary school, write poetry (which of course is rocky lately), clean up and furnish my new apartment (it rocks, poets are welcome to get drunk and write there), organize and advertize the grand opening (a story in four newspapers, mass mailings, catering, ads in 5 papers, an appearence in support of a local politian (privately labeled wine too) and a television appearence on local cable for "Who's in the Kitchen?"), and of course trying to keep a social life (my goldfish and I love blockbuster movies and are thinking about buying an XBox!) I have taken on another new endevor.

I am starting a website about wine that targets young people. Of course there will be the stuff like reviews or wine and restaurants, wine tastings, general knowlege of wine etc etc etc. But i have a problem (other than the help i need drinking the 350 bottles of wine in my apartment, some that is rather old and needs to be drunk before is goes bad, and this boy don't have no dates to share it with): I NEED A NAME. Something wine-like but simple. Something fun but not goofy. Something sophisticated but not pretentious.

I am still working on the site, but when it is up i will send a link. until then, here is some inspiration that I aspire to:

And the winner will of course recieve a free bottle of wine. (You may have to come and pick it up though. Mailing wine is a tricky ordeal.)

Peace, love, and wine,

Monday, October 04, 2004

Drunken Poets' Homecoming

Captain et al,

A few drinks and a few poets later = Drunken Poets' Society
A few drinks, a few poets later, and a Mac = Drunk Poets' Blog?

Dang kids. This is SWEET. Dan, Katie, and Kyle did a nice job pulling this together, also thanks to Willie for gathering everyone's e mail. Now we can throw some words out from all over the country...

October 9, 2004
-Parrots Lounge-
11 (ish) o'clock
I hope everyone will be back in town for homecoming. I realize we usually began reading at new holland and brought the party over to parrots. I'm sure we could fill parrots with poems but lets fill parrots with a crowd of drunken poets. 1st alumni gathering. We can use grown up works like, networking to pull something like this for years to come. I'll try to re-introduce casual swearing, making out, and the like. Possibly act my age. And all the poets can keep me off the train, and continue to scream poetry while asked to get off the table again. And never forget the toast for JACK.
"Life is Good"

Friday, October 01, 2004

Hear ye! Hear ye, ya drunken skirvy poets!

So, I'm hoping this posts and that I've officially joined the site... FINALLY! Stupid f'ing computers and their stupid f'ing keeping me the f away from my f'in' friends. Whoa... I work for two churches! I have to stop f'ing swearing!

The purpose of this post, my first, is to extend an invitation, which will also be emailed soon as well (hopefully- *crossing fingers*). I, Kyle Delhagen, will be in Holland, Michigan from Tuesday the 19th of Oct., until noon on Thursday, the 21st of Oct. On Wednesday, October 20th, at approximately 9:30-10:00, the Drunk Poets Society will be convening at the location of the New Holland Brewery. We will officially start when we feel that everyone who is coming is there. We will end when they kick us out (or we'll just move to some place else!). You need to bring two things. A.) a stein B.) a poem you want looked at and worked on and will share with the group- plus copies for everyone. Please RSVP to Kyle at by Oct. 18th. :)

I really hope to see as many of you as possible. I want to read your stuff. I want to hug you. I want to BE with you for even a brief time. Jack- you'd better show up! :) Hey all, let's get Myra to come out! :) This is something that will not happen often! Well, unless we make it happen! So show up! Let's see ya'll! I MISS YOU ALL SO FRIGGIN MUCH!