Sarrah Countdown #4

Sarrah and Danielle "Deeds" Gervasio on the front steps of Hotel 17, Lower East Side, New York City.

Sarrah realizes she just made fun of my while on top of the Empire State Building, New York City.

Sarrah at the foot of the Sears Tower, Chicago.

Sarrah impersonates a lion at the Chicago Museum of Art.

Sarrah and her brother Alun, in Times Square, New York City.

Pvt. Mike Blevins

Mike at Sedona Green is one the biggest supporters of poetry in Sedona. And I love this photo of him as a Civil War reenactor. Why? Everything is period, except for the newspaper. And Mike's expression is "Why, it's 1863, and I have just discovered this newspaper ... from the future! ... Let's check the sports page."

I hope he wears this costume to the big Yin Yang and Zen Some Halloween Show at Szechuan Martini Bar on Friday.

Sarrah countdown #3

Hiking up the mountain my aunt Laurie and uncle Alan own in Paradise Valley, Montana

We wandered down the other side of the mountain and hiking along a bubbling crick.

We liked going into town to Mark's In & Out a lot.

Standing on a sculpture at the Montana State University campus in Bozeman.

Chilling in the grass at Montana State University in Bozeman.

Sarrah Countdown #2

Sarrah eating oysters in New Jersey.

On the steps of a park entrance near where Danielle Gervasio grew up in New Jersey.

Standing in the rain outside our cabana along the Jersey Shore.

A photo of Sarrah's feet. Perhaps the rarest photo in the universe.

Sarrah is leaving Sedona

Sarrah Wile, my two-time daughter (I was her legal guardian twice) is leaving Sedona to go to school in Asheville, North Carolina. Sarrah was just a girl when I met her, but she's become one of my closest friends in Sedona.
We've gone on vacations every summer for the last four years: to the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, N.M., in 2005; to San Francisco with Dylan Jung and Lou Moretti in 2006; to Montana in 2007; and to New York City, the Jersey Shore, Philadelphia, and Chicago with Danielle "Deeds" Gervasio and Alun Wile in 2008.
Until she leaves, I'll be posting my favorite photographs of her over the years.

At Mark's In & Out in Livingston, Montana.

In my grandmother's barn in Opheim, Montana.

Checking out downtown Idaho Falls, Idaho.

Last Chance Gulch, in downtown Helena, Montana.

Playing checkers with stones and pinecones in downtown Helena, Montana.

CFG is back

CFG returns to the slam scene in Northern Arizona ... bringing back all the flair he did in the heydays of the early 2000s.

Photo by Jessica Guadarrama.

Tasha

Tasha

This is one of my favorite photographs. Tasha was one of KuK's neighbors. She and her brother used to come over and play with KuK and Nikki. I was getting ready to leave with them, Kevin and Erin to do a photo shoot for my 2006 chapbook "Square Root of the Word."

Tasha put on these ears and was running around. I asked he to stop for a second so I could shoot the photo, and she changed her expression in a moment from a playful 11-year-old to this stern, piercing look.

I paired the photo with my poem "Nameless Daughter"

Nameless Daughter

she jumps on a trampoline
in a yellow sundress
barefoot and giggling
like every little girl
should be doing when they are 8 years old

she is my nameless daughter
and on nights like this one
I wonder where she is
what she's thinking
how much longer she will wait to see me
and what poems I will write
when her long dark hair
parachutes behind her
before she whiplashes back into the sky
I will speak a thousand poems in a moment
when see flies free

she is my nameless daughter
with tree branch bruises on her arms
grass–stained knees
sticky fingers of who–knows–what
and a way of telling stories with giggles
like my grandmother that gives me back
my 8–years–old eyes

she moves as though she is always dancing
and snuggles close to me on road trips
we speak a language her mother can not decipher
because the way she says "daddy"
has a hundred different meanings

she is my nameless daughter
and I am terrified to meet her
because I am not better than this
I am skin and flesh and bone
and the mistakes of my history
I am forgotten fathers
I am the lies to lovers
I am the nights when I should have been writing
instead of sleeping or drinking or fucking
I am all the days of my life
that I did not seize by the throat
and ride into the sunset

I am terrified to meet her
because this is the man I have become
and she deserves better
than this

she is my nameless daughter
and I am terrified to meet her
because I have known the men
who have held daughters in their arms
shattered by forces they could not control
I have known the men
who have tried to breathe back life
into hollow lungs
I have known the men
who would have given everything they had
just to stop the bleeding
I have known the men
who have had to bury a daughter
instead of being buried by them

I have seen the eyes of men
who have seen their daughters
for the last time
and their eyes can never be mine

she is my nameless daughter
she should not see the world I have
she should not learn the words I know
she should not live by the mistakes
of all the fathers before me
who did not know she was coming
she should have a father
who is better than the man I have become
in a world that is better than mine

she should have a world where everyone
is still 8–years–old
no one has last names
and the word "stranger" is meaningless

she is my nameless daughter
and I am terrified to meet her
because these are the only arms I have to hold her
these are the only lips I have to kiss away bruises
this is the only voice I have to scatter the monsters
from beneath her bed and out into the night
this is the only body I have to sacrifice
to keep her safe
she deserves more
because I am not enough

Uptight Yuppie Haiku

The full title is "Uptight Yuppies Desperate to Look Cool by Wearing Berets to 'Artsy' Jazz Clubs Haiku"

Despite your beret
we know you're not a "hip cat,"
you pretentious fuck

Haiku for Lori-Ann

For our dream lovers
we search, long for and lose hope
yet they still seek us

Kismet Haiku

We hunt perfection,
true love and our destiny ...
but it hunts us too

Becca's Serenity Haiku

Fight fate when you want
resist, rebel, deny love.
Destiny fights back

Bohemian Haiku

Bohemian life
poetry, music, artists
cash flows when needed

Prohibition Era Speakeasy Party

These are Gregg's photos. In all, there were between 70 and 80 people. Only about 10 were not in costume. Not everyone was photographed, obviously.
David and Dylan
Ashley Wintermute
Aaron and Michelle
Michelle
Richard, Sean, Robert, and Dylan
Molly, Kera and Deeds
Michelle and Bri
Fiona, Richard, Ashley and me
Ashley
Paula, Gitangelique, Daniel and Aaron
Michelle ... I think Gregg liked shooting photos of her
Matthew Horstman, Kelly Cole and Jen Valencia, and at the bar, Dan Seaman, Zach and bartender David Reed
Aaron , Brandon, Lou, Zach, and Michelle
Paula, Gitangelique, Aaron, and Daniel
Gitangelique and Aaron
Lori-Ann, Sean, Michelle and Dave Harvey
Zach, Aaron, Gitangelique, Michelle, Bri and Glenn
Aaron and Michelle
Daniel, Gitangelique and Aaron
Richard, Sean and Robert
KuK and Sean
Jen, Matthew, Sean and Zach
KuK
Me, Richard, Ashley and Ian.
KuK and Porengui
Glenn, Gitangelique, Bri and Matthew Horstman
Michelle, Sean, Porungui, Dave Harvey and Lori-Ann (that's her thumb)

CFG features at the Applesauce Spoken Word Theater

The Tres Muertas Gang secures booze for Prohibition Party

Why Slam Causes Pain and Is a Good Thing

Bob Holman was instrumental in the reopening of the Nuyorican Poets Café in 1987, and was its original SlamMaster .

Why Slam Causes Pain and Is a Good Thing
July 14, 1998
By Bob Holman

Because Slam is Unfair.
Because Slam is too much fun.
Because poetry.
Because rules.
Because poetry rules.
Because the poetry gets lost.
Because you cannot reduce a poem to its numerological equivalent.
Because it's poetry in everyday life every Sunday at 7:30.
Because I can do that.
Because everybody's voice is heard. Because Old White Guys as usual.
Because it's the opposite that includes the opposite.
Because do not institutionalize the anti-institution!
Because it's meant for middle and high schoolers so they get adrenalin poetry shots.
Because Pepsi and Nike have conflicting ideas about the team uniforms.
Because competitive.
Because Allen Ginsberg says, “Slam! Into the Mouth of the Dharma!”
Because Gregory Corso says, “Why do you want to hang out with us old guys? If I was young, I'd be going to the Slam!”
Because Bob Kaufman says, “Each Slam / a finality.”
Because Patricia Smith has more truth in her little finger than entire Boston Globe front page.
Because Marc Smith and because Chicago.
Because Nuyorican Poets Café and multi-culti.
Because rap is poetry, and Hip Hop is culture.
Because poetry an endangered species Slam revivifies.
Because three minute pop song.
Because the point is not the points.
Because audience.
Because heckling.
Because judges selected whimsically are instant experts.
Because the National Slam is summer boot camp for poets.
Because first six years only women win Indy Slam Champ Boot.
Because local heroes finally have national community.
Because democratization of art.
Because Dewey Decimal System of Slam Scorification to reduce possibility of Ties and Dreaded Sudden-Death Spontaneous Haiku Overtime Round.
Because Best Poet Always Loses.
Because Taos Heavyweight Poetry Bout Championship.
Because when in the course it looks like poetry is disappearing, the furious uproar of the Word will not be stilled.
Because performance is a see-through page, and the oral tradition a hidden book.
Because it's called Slam.

Nika's Haiku

Nika Levikov wrote this haiku in Russian back to me while in a chemistry lab.

Sontsa svetet
ya sezhu v nutri zdaneye
e honetsa spat

(sun is shining
i am inside a building
i would like to sleep)

Nika Haiku #3

Crush deepens with time
must find phrase for "awesomeness"
in Ukrainian

Nika Haiku #2

Flagstaff girl is board
so my words entertain her
and time seems to fly