Showing posts with label Seahorse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seahorse. Show all posts

Friday, September 7, 2018

Arkadash


Arkadash


we often sit in cafés and talk
read new poems to one another
dip dainty spoons in porcelain
sugar bowls & muse on how
dehydrated flower petals curl
around the lip of their vase
courageous memoirist to my
plainspoken poet – me with my
memento mori, (reminders of
death) & you with your vaunted
ironies & ability to hold a pencil
between your toes & write your
name just as good as if you did
it with your left hand – we fit
I can’t shed the Devil & you are
convinced the Dark Stranger is
soon to make an appearance &
butter your hazel eyes blurry
our kinship cobbled together by
an otherworldly luminescence
we banter in the Skunk Hour
derange & re-arrange scribbles
on napkins until the breakfast bell
I call you arkadash & you call me
orospu for swiping the last blob
of clear delicate dandelion jam from
the cracked glass dish for my scone


***


While holed up in my writing room yesterday admiring my new antique brass ink well, listening to music, looking for inspiration among my bookshelves and floor stacks, I came across a the Turkish word for 'friend'. Unable to edit but restless enough to move a pen, I wrote a poem using the phrase as the title. It was fun. It helped me sleep, the writing. If you're reading, I won't reveal what the second Turkish phrase means. I'll leave that up to you although I'm sure most of you who frequent the Teapot and employ common sense will get the gist.

Tragically Hip tribute show with my buds tonight at The Seahorse. I look forward to stepping out of daily life for a few hours and into music that I love. My ears are hungry and my heart needs a little healing, music saves.

Happy Friday!

In propinquity,
Nic

Sunday, February 9, 2014

If I Should Fall Behind


I have been unusually neglectful of The Paper Teapot of late.  My work life, private life and sleep deprivation are preventing me from being my best self, my creative self.  I even sat down the other night with a glass of wine and attempted to write a poem that has been nagging me since I was in the thick of the crowd at the Blue Rodeo concert (which was amazing!).  I tried working it out and ended up writing another new poem that reading it back now I see is absolute trash.  It seems I have lost my groove again.  Darn.  The timing couldn’t be worse with two characters waiting in the wings.  They aren’t talking to me I think because I am not fully present and am instead distracted by those pesky things called numbers and details and worry for a family member.  I haven’t been sleeping well but I do try keep busy and productive in other ways even though I’m not creating: reading, letter/postcard writing/concerts/artist dates.

I have some things to do today but later my goal is to reconstruct the sucky poem to make it something worth posting.  I was successful in acquiring some new stationary that is fun and I can’t wait to use it all up so there’s an excuse to go buy more.  I found Duly Noted again after they moved from Quinpool Road downtown to Brenton Street.  That is a good thing!  I also bought a new pen and it was used on a giant pile of mail anxiously awaiting the mail man tomorrow.  It was a peaceful thing, amassing that pile, destined for a few special mailboxes.

Friday night I ended a rather long work week with an excellent triple bill of rock ‘n’ roll at the Seahorse Tavern:  The Navy Brats, Adam Baldwin Band and Gloryhound.  I was content to be in the underground, sweating out the week’s toxins with a gaggle of rock-heads.  My ears were happy to be full of noise other than ringing phones and my self-loathing while trying dearly not to make mistakes while learning new tasks.  The Navy Brats in particular were outstanding.  Organic, from the gut, honest rock fodder.  I loved them and will keep my eyes open for any future shows to attend.  I really loved watching Adam Baldwin whip the crowd into shape with his set.  I also loved looking around and watching faces in the crowd belting out the lyrics of his original material that can be found on his recently released ep.  And then there was Gloryhoud, back home after working on their new record on the west coast.  We are always happy to have them home to rock us and they never disappoint.  I fell into my bed content and filled up with the goodness that comes from a solid rock event.  Music is a good healer.

Oh and I almost forgot.  I ordered myself some fun business-like cards for writing last night.  My uber talented photographer friend Shelley Wyman (be sure to google her and peek at her work) posted on Facebook about her order and hers were stunning.  She designed her own but I opted for a design that was available on the site for my first try and will work on something else for the next time.  I ordered a pack of 50 with a few different designs.  They contain my contact info and blog website.  You know they do come in handy when you meet someone who is also an artist.  It happened to me one night when I was at The Carleton.  I got talking to someone at the bar and either of us had anything appropriate to swap and instead wrote website addresses on bar napkins.  This will rectify that issue.  I thought about it then, making business-like cards and Shelley’s post kicked my arse to get ‘er done.  Now I wait patiently for my order to arrive in the mail.  Pleased as punch and look forward to seeing them.

I have blogs to catch up on, a poem to fix and a new story to write plus a handwritten review for Ruthie since she sent me a copy of her latest work.  I look forward to tucking in and offering my thoughts much like she did with Town & Country.  I felt so proud of my efforts on that story after reading her response.  I am happy the work resonated and I also love that my circle are seeing themselves in the women I wrote about.  They grew upward from the love, influence and impact my friends have on me.  Friends are electric and should be celebrated, the true friends that find their way to you.  They are the reason magic exists and that is worth putting into words.  Even if it is through the worlds and wisdoms of fictional characters. 

Coffee is gone, CD has long since ended.  Time for me to face this Sunday and make it matter.

In propinquity,

Nic