While I wonder whether opening "for kicks" on four girls in three groups constitutes a violation of the Lockout (must've been boredom and having read blog buddy Roosh's book, Bang, during the week. Support your local artists!), I figured some of you non-poetry people might appreciate getting a glimpse of exactly what it is I do when it comes to slam/spoken word.
A fellow Intangible, Izzy, posted a vid of me performing "Pieces of Mine" at SUNY-New Paltz, the final leg of our "Where There's Smoke There's Fire" tour. I was leading off the show, for no reason other than Field General T.J. was looking for someone to, and I said, "I'll do it." Haha. Why I volunteered, I have no idea. I hate going first. Any case, the performance is a bit rough -- and off paper -- because it was the first time an audience of non-poets heard that one. But here it is:
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Lockout Sneak-ins and a Vid
Thursday, May 8, 2008
The Lady-Killing Lockout, Take Two
The date plan to watch Team America never came to fruition, mainly because the Newsies Girl flipped it into a larger chill session with mutual BFF Jodie and her co-workers. The highlight came early, and it was a doozy:
Jodie's co-worker, Swede, grew up in Sweden (clearly). Thusly unencumbered by American social norms, within three minutes of me showing up and plopping down in the circle's only empty space, next to NG, Swede asked -- and I quote -- "So, are you two dating?"
... And we both made the stinkface.
Good to know that the idea was so foreign to each of us that we appeared repulsed. That's worse than one of us giving an LJBF speech. I'll be returning Team America to the fine folks at Netflix, because there's clearly going to be no tandem watching of that film, and I've seen it already.
That said, I'm officially enacting the second annual Brooklyn Boy Lady-Killing Lockout. Officially. I am not making any forward attempt to hang out one-on-one or hook up with any females for at least a month. Well, until the end of May, anyhoo.
I love the whole getting involved, chasing-and-being-chased part. I'm just done with it for a while. It's easier not to think. Check what I wrote last year:
Everything since December (The Reconnection) has felt like one long rebound, and I'm officially on break. It's relieving to be free of any girl "situation" for the first time in five months. I'm not saying that if I were to meet some nice young lady, I'll be turning her away - just that I'm all about slicing strings right now. No drama. Just trying to enjoy myself by living life instead of passing through.Change out the girl, and the sentiment holds (kind of eerie, that) ... save for the whole being "free of any girl 'situations' " part. But whatever, they'll fade away once I stop putting effort in. I'm just gonna be smokin' Indo and sippin' on gin and juice with the soon-to-be-upstairs-neighbors at The Trio and soon-to-be-roommate Hermano a/k/a The Loveseat (if you know me, think, then laugh), laid back, my mind on my money and my money on my mind.
... The over/under is Thursday.
... I'll still be entertaining, I swear.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Uber-Quick Update and a Poetry Potpourri
I've been meaning to post since Friday, because all kinds of craziness has been going on, despite my social schedule being severely limited due to the playoffs. (Playoffs?! Don't talk to me about Playoffs!)
A date with the Hebrew School Hottie arrived DOA, because she was perfectly willing to let me be responsible for maintaining any conversation. Whatever, I can talk, but I'm not doing that again if I can avoid it. A date with Laney's friend bombed out after a spectacular start. Chilled with lifelong buddy Shaos for the first time in a minute, and ran into a bunch of New Paltz poets on the street at 3 a.m. Thoroughly enjoyed Triviotic, despite coming in third (again), this time with Lacey Bean, her BF (and my hetero-lifemate) Dave, Arielle and Apollocreed. After sharing full subway rides with Newsies Girl twice in three days -- each unexpectedly; smallest big city in the world, and we know this -- I've got a plan (date?) to watch Team America tonight ... after I officially check out the apartment I should be moving into shortly. Word.
Also of note: After I iced her out, the 10-Year Reunion decided she wanted more time on the Couch, and got at me through Facebook. But then she started to let Captain K do the dirty work of setting up the meet-and-greet, and while I'm a fan of his, and am willing to chill with him whenever, if the 10-Year wants to see me before she moves to Boston, she can contact me her own damn self.
Any case, Shaos was about 45 minutes late to meet me on Saturday, and I ended up writing a slew of short free-form poems while sitting at the Grassroots bar, Bukowski-style. With a nod to Stef's Haiku Tuesdays over at Big Exit, a sampling of the best and brightest follows; feel free to feed me back anything you care to:
for being someone
most people aren't
when I
was just playing it
practical.
There were two weeks
on that unlimited
she forgot.
Phonebook full
of numbers I can't call
because it's complicated.
NOTE:
Make female friends
you don't get involved with.
It's hard
to hold on to
anyone
when you're shoving a forearm
full of fear
into their stomach
stuffing them full
of every anxiety
you never thought
to mention.
She once told me
I gave her goosebumps.
Someone else warms her arms.
Mastered enough game
to know what I'm
doing when I blow it
With work,
my own ish,
and women,
I hardly have time
for friends.
Hope they don't hate me.
When I introduced a girl
for the first time in forever,
Edna took one look,
said simply,
"Kryptonite."
The doors closed
seven stops toward work.
I forgot my laptop.
Fuck.
Could be four girls I fucked with
at the same place tonight.
Stop inviting them out,
idiot.
Gorgeous girl
even when slumming it
every time I see you
I smile
because I like pretty things.
Male equivalent
of "Ooh --
Jewelry!"
The paper said,
"Do a profane dance."
And I didn't hump the floor
because that was too obvious
forgetting that it's sometimes okay
to accomplish the expected
because you've got the rest of the time
to be special.
They'll still love you.
Promise.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Points of Information
So in the spirit of continuing to jinx things like I did yesterday, a few updates:
- Barring a disaster, I'll be moving to Park Slope within the next few weeks -- to the apartment underneath The Trio. That should prove to be great good fun.
- By year's end, I'll likely be working for one of the following: a blue football team, a Tri-State basketball team that intends to move to the Better Borough, or a .com who's name could alternately appear as "Athletic Activities Drawn."
In the event none of those pan out, I might bounce to the City of Angels or the A-T-L ... or kick it here in the hometown -- each on a variation of the current gig, depending on what the new bosses decide works best for them. We shall see. - I totally lied about focusing. Everyone who didn't see through the initial declaration, please raise your hands.
Bueller? ... Bueller? ... Anyone?
... Yeah, that's what I thought. I'm a ridiculous person. At least I know when I'm full of shit.
Most of the time.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
You Know She's Hooked When ...
She sends a text that reads:
Hahahah I loathe you. We'll hang soon.After three weeks of text flirting, and one missed invite to a Burning Angel party (Link NSFW; I love the poetry ... I love the poetry ...), tonight's date might well kick off with someone pinned against the nearest wall to the streetcorner we meet up on. The kid's feeling good about this one.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Sending Smiles
Hey hey,
The kids who make it to that unit generally take pride in leading by example. That's why you may have noticed that they stood to clap for us, setting an example for the other kids. It was also one of them who asked for permission to thank us properly -- that's not something that was set up or asked of him, he just knew it was the right thing to do and wanted to show that example.
Also going along those lines, the 4 kids in the leadership unit wrote us a thank-you letter that night -- again, of their own volition; they weren't told to write us a thank-you. I explain all that only to put it in context for you so you know that what you did really was appreciated and left those kids thinking. Ok -- enough from me. Their letter was hand-written and not grammatically perfect, but I'm going to retype it exactly as-is:
To Mr. Reyes and poets,On behalf of delta leadership unit cadets we would like to thank you for coming performing and showing your talents taking time out of your busy schedule to come and perform for us. As a leadership unit we know it takes alot of courage to get up in front of us people you don't know and express your feelings and tell us your life story. We really appreciate your presents and would really like if you can come back and do it again. Your poems had a real impact on most of the cadets/residents (Superman) and really made us think about how some of us were destroying our communitys. You encourage us to express our feelings in other ways then resulting to violence. It's amazing to see people from different walks of life and end up on the same path "poetry". We really hope all of y'all continue your dreams and thank you for your time and consideration.Sincerely,Delta Leadership Unit(they each signed it as well)
Monday, April 28, 2008
An Upstate Weekend, Etched in Ink
Your boy is dead ass after three days upstate, seeing poetry people from places all over the country, and performing four times, at two college campuses and a youth reformatory. Special shouts to Naomi and Diabolical for making the magic happen, Fascious for ripping through Penumbra, Eden for hosting Rock Against Racism at New Paltz and everyone else for being friggin ridiculous poets and more importantly, family.
Since recapping can do the weekend no justice, I'll leave y'all with one of the poems I spit, but had previously neglected to post here. Enjoy:
was me
all the way out to second cousins
which made this something of a scandal
despite my mother and father both running rebellious through college
mom struggling to be heard by deaf parents
and dad doing double duty as a jock and an actor,
while tripling up on screaming on his pops
because Grandpa John didn't know better than to be a bigot.
Three weeks after I etched ink into flesh
I was at the computer at home
visiting
my dad on the phone with my mom
when he decided to scare the hell out of her
by saying her big boy looked the same --
except for the new tattoo.
The joke succeeded
until the reality was realized
and he had to explain that he was kidding about kidding
and the kid in the room had actually been inked.
By the next time family functioned together
I'd cemented my status as the
"cool cousin"
and 13-year-old Zeke awaited an opening
firing a salvo filled with admiration and awe
aimed exactly at the center of the role modeled on my back
saying he'd heard I got a tattoo
and I said,
"Talk to me when you're older."
as I smiled,
sending signals that someday should seem certain
and this was a revelation remembered for a future reveal
though that single sentence said nothing I intended to speak
simply stilted every thought that failed to make it to my mouth.
Zeke
Ezekiel
Cousin
Wait.
Don't do it unless you've got an idea so good
you tell friends about it for years
thanking them every instant they don't call you on it
and let you get away with repeating the tale.
Make these friendships easy and beautiful
like paper swans
even though you will be devastated
if you ever accidentally add the number time crumples
to the ones the winds of fate blow away.
Life will be more interesting if you refuse to limit yourself
by only allowing experiences to develop the way they're supposed to.
Engage the world
even if only by paying attention
because without an audience
the greatest performances you've yet to see
will be limited to one-night engagements in bedrooms across America.
Remain impressed by things you've seen 1,000 times before
though not always in wide-eyed wonder
secret smiles are allowed.
Remember always that you're lucky
we love you
you can call
and whatever you're doing
you've at least you've got the chance to
without ever understanding how fear feels
filling the treads of your sole
as you exit upon the welcome mat
set out for strangers you never hope to know.
So live like it's all going to be okay
no matter what makes sense
and even if it never does
it won't be for lack of trying
and you'll lift someone else on the way.
This is advice I've tried to live by
and sometimes don't
so I made certain I'd always remember
to honor where I'm from
and question where I'm going.
Zeke.
Ezekiel.
Cousin.
Take
your time
really just take it and don't let it pass by
Because I believe in you --
we all do.
So, no
don't get some stupid tattoo
when the only reminder you need
is in every mirror you pass
from storefront window to shards of glass
in pools of water where the reflection's cast
and though the image always changes
it symbolizes more
than any design
in ink.
