Stone Soup Poetry meets from 8-10 p.m. every Monday at the Out of The Blue Art Gallery (located on 106 Prospect Street in Cambridge) with an open mike sign-up at 7:30 p.m. On July 2nd, the California based poetry group A Reason to Listen will be visiting Stone Soup as part of their summer tour.
Over the past four years A Reason to Listen, Therese Keslin-FitzMaurice and Vanessa Pike-Vrtiak, have worked with poets in several forums, from the Accident Gallery to the Raven House, to build a thriving spoken word movement in Humboldt County. Their most recent achievement, Excavating the History of Love, an hour length performance piece combined spoken word, dance, music and live art on one stage. After a series of sold out performances, the local university invited the poets to speak and host workshops on campus. Pike and Keslin are currently publishing Excavating the History of Love and a collection of poetry entitled A Reason to Listen. This summer Keslin and Pike will tour the east coast to promote their new publications. A Reason to Listen recently received two grants acknowledging how inspirational their performances have been to the local community. A sample poem follows below.
After 48 hours of contemplation
by Vanessa Pike-Vrtiak and Therese Keslin-FitzMaurice
I am hurting.
Remembering when my pilot light was lit.
abruptly.
heart beat to tribal drums
(inside my chest)
ruby pastel blood running to my finger tips
the scent still lingers
i am only human
when i dance
alone.
abrasive.
unnoticed.
cut taste off my tongue
the smell of tulips now follows me.
i hid between bed sheets
lighting candles in the dark
licking love poems off my lips
hoping i could pilot kali’s ship
and beat tantric rhythms
over perineal knowledge,
(but alone, i know
i am only human.)
heat exchanged
beat boxed stares
and radiant smiles
a delicate conversation with a piano.
keys slipped soft caresses
between folded sheets of music
where circumcised instruments
played too hard.
I was reminded
about the love I was lacking
when his world collided with mine
he traveled through black and white jungles
braiding syncopated break beats
birthing bridges of rain and sun
telling the truth about the moon dust in my womb had never been so easy
prophet of the divine
i want to sun bathe inside you.
deep fragrant symphonies
i caught my breath too.
and touched the rough edges of fire
i tasted him.
for a moment in time.
wind painted cracks
across his lips,
sipping life lines and poems
out of forest speckled eyes
splashing his reflection on my face
as he blew butterflies
through the back of my skull
my essence grew wings
as i stared down the barrel
pressing matters on my temple
i could not escape myself.
my anger is a disease.
and this dis ease
shakes the bed i sleep in.
Does he know?
How we stand with vast oceans between us.
rotating Saturn’s rings around my wrists.
in place of time
what is my karmic responsibility?
the seaweed tangled with forbidden contact
and snow stained cheeks
if you bring me electricity again
will currents flow?
or am I in love with a poem?
a poem can’t brush the back of his palm against my cheek
a poem can’t fold triangles in bed
a poem can’t ride the rhythm of my beat
through the streets
and shake me out of my dreams
only my maker can.
yes, I carry jazz notes in my lungs if you want to stay and listen.
because..
I’ve got to start putting it simply. I am the poem.
Visit Reason to Listen's MySpace page.
