Friday, May 20, 2005

It's never too late for poetry blitz

I spent the night of poetry blitz sleeping in a small trailer in the very small coastal town of Ngunguru (noongooroo), New Zealand. While there was no chance to post poems all over everything in sight, I felt I would be doing the DPS a disservice if I let the night slip by without a hint of I wrote one poem, and shared it with my travel mate (Kris) and since late is better than never, I thought I would post it for you folk now that I am back stateside. It may seem familiar, it was written after Jack's poem..."After reading Dom someone or other...Benedictine Abbot". Please give me comments and suggestions.

Poetry Blitz

Centuries of carefully crafted words
will float effortlessly off my fingertips.
They will nestle into walls, skylights
and coffee makers. Glare
through windows, slip
under doors, rummage
through drawers filled with confidential files.

With the first breath of sunrise
they will twirl and dance with trees,
gently caressing the tips
of each leaf as they burst
into the air like seeds
with the gentle exhale
of the wind. Come night fall
they will stumble

through doorways on the heels
of alcoholic moonlight.
My words will splatter their blood
across the grassy lawns, soaking
through to the very soul of youth.
They will march down main street
in broken haphazard unity
declaring captivating music. My words
will be everywhere.

They will hide
in the sizzle of scrambled eggs,
they will be the last bits of paint
that cling to the brush, the first
sip of beer, the curl of cigarette smoke.
They will stick to the souls
of your feet, and roll down your cheek
with your salty tears. You will find them
in the wag of the dogs tail, dripping
icicles, ice cream cones (double scoop),
and the white lines that race
by on the highway.

They will be slipped
into the warmth under the covers
in the chill of winter, wrapped around shoelaces,
and strapped to the bottom
of swingsets. They will echo
through empty hallways
and forgotten valleys, cling
to wet mops and peal from bell towers.
They will be the bits of cookie that stick
to the pan, dry and burned on the edges,

and when you're not paying attention
they will slip into your evening cup of tea,
glide into your mouth, and remind you
of how your father used to kiss your mother
on the lips
in the kitchen
for no apparent reason.

Thursday, May 19, 2005

Drunk Poet Retreat

June 3-5 could work well for my apartment and the sponsor. Later in June becomes difficult since i will be in Jamaca on a mission trip. If june will not work, the offer stands for July and August!
Peace and love,
Hadji the Reknird Eniw
(sorry, had too much in anticipation of the retreat

Amazing What Dancing Can Do To People

Whatever Happens, it is Left on the Dance Floor
For G and M

The band will strike
up Frank and feet
start moving and you'll
swing through
the song, forgeting
that you were even
dancing. After
one you'll enjoy
piking: the feel
of his hand
holding you below
your shoulder
like a pendilum,
smoothly sliding
suede soles
barely catching
in time to cruise
through another
West Coast song. After
two songs, you'll
feel each others heat,
and the lights
will slip by
like searchlights looking
for a fugitive
on the floor
and when you
draw her back
from a rock step
she will step in close
and hold your shoulder
tight, like
tucking into a shadow
to hide.

Then the ring
on his finger
will slip faster
than the tempo
of the latin
break session. Soon
something kinetic will build
and hardly let go, even when
you send her,
something electric will remain
fingers to fingers,
eyes to eyes,
and she'll spin,
again and again
with you around
swing away from the lights
of Club Atomic Dog,
late on Thursdays
when someone waits at home,
asleep with
a book in hand,
the bedside lamp
still and quiet
in a cold queen size bed.
These moments from Toothpaste For Dinner had me laughing out loud in the office.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

It's Been A While

Hi, guys! It's been a while! I've been constructing a new website. Check it out, especially "New Poetry" and "Flash Fiction," at

Oh, and my new book, "the wind is a blind man tapping," is available through online booksellers. It's actually doing pretty well. Visit my site for more information.

Stephen Saul

Saturday, May 07, 2005

Another Booze Inspired Poem About Divinity and Love--Sort of

The truth I Tell as Lies

Nostalgic for the day
my wife wakes me in my old
leather armchair and takes
the scotch and soda
from my tired hand to walk
me to bed. We'll
undress me and she'll
crawl in tight and with grace
will say how good I smell despite
cologne being a bottle of Cutty Sark,
or highland single malt. She'll
say she loves me in the same tone
as when we spoke about my secondhand lovers
and her affair with the chemist.
Then I'll know there is a sin
for which hail marys won't save,
so I confess.
But the lies I regret
as truth told in first person
in some pub in Derry,
jobless, pennyless, happy
that the time to write is consumed
by her love are all simply nostalgia
for tommorrow that fade
when she pulls the string
on my bedside lamp. And in bed
we lament on the outcome of all this,
and once again, confess
our love
before passing
into unconsciousness.

Thursday, May 05, 2005

Drunk Poets Retreat

This summer Red Hat Micro-Winery, the unofficial wine of drunk poets, is sponsering a retreat in metro-Detroit. All Drunk Poet Society members and friends are welcome.

Friday evening will include a wine tasting and poetry reading and insprirational speech once Hadji is drunk. Local bar hop is optional.

Saturday morning (aka Noon) will feature a pancake and omlette breakfast with coffee to cure hangovers OR the option to eat at the little diner at the end of my road. Workshops will follow through the afternoon. A break in the workshops for a tour of the Edsel Ford Mansion is available for approx $10. Saturday we'll hit a cajun restaurant and continue the evening with fun and poetry (of course).

The accomadations will be crampt (Matt's 850 sq. ft. flat). Whoever brings the most food gets choice of bed or futon and choice of companion. Kitchen facilities are excellent and includes a wonderful cook (questionable) fantastic wine cellar (definately NOT questionable with 38 label choices and close to 100 bottles), a full service bar (i even have martini shakers), and a serene environment with fish tanks, plant life, and view of lake (sort of).

Dates depend on interested parties, availability, Matt's work schedual.
For reservations call 313-550-8415
Visit our sponser's website at

Much love,