Saturday, June 23, 2018

Ramona and rumi: Love in the Time of Oligarchy: & unedited Necessary Poems

Edward Vidaurre has done it again! This chap-book collection cuts with the erotic edge of night, and explores inspirations that range from lipstick smears to screaming guitars. Edward is a true "peoples' poet" and remains a central figure in the Indie Lit scene he has helped nurture for years, along the banks of the Rio Grande River in deep South Texas. This chap book turns mostly inward...introducing readers to his love, his passion, his lust, his muses and inspirations. This is a poetic masterpiece that we can all relate to, with an honesty we can all aspire to bring into our own lives and loves.


Ramona came to rumi, bare naked
Green in spirit and inexperienced
With knees folded inward
Wearing autumn leaves to cover her virginity,
Wearing the skin of her ancestors,
In her lungs: a yell of resistance

rumi was on his second hat, tilted
A jazz aficionado, blowing
smoke across the night sky
Wailing unstressed syllables in the dark
A master with words,
blood type: ink

running scared
crashing into each other

A clash of short poems

Early Morning

rumi wakes to the scent of gunpowder

Ramona wakes and lights a candle for her tongue
it’s early enough to lay dead on a hyphen
a litter of cats die eight deaths

They welcome the fog, slow moving
feeling love for one another
she, his notorious kisses & poetry
he, her love for rolling around in fire

Without blinking, Ramona listens to his words
& how his moustache dances between syllables
rumi in awe, watches her stretch her stare from fall to winter

Both drink in the gossiping mist

He plants squash for his foes
she picks up a rock to stare at her reflection

rumi raises owls, feeds them plantains
they bring him cantos in exchange

Ramona, plants the songs next to a rosemary garden
in a month, teething children will sing the harvest

She chants for rain to go away
by stomping on the earth

He bottles up petrichor
so she won’t forget

porcelain doll with broken fingertips.
rumi, the gluemaster.

They look up at the stars.
Ramona says she sees a shooting opportunity
rumi stares into her eyes and points at stars.

Music plays on the turntable
rumi hums the tune of grackles and a speeding car.

In Search For The Saddest Song

rumi leaves early in the morning
Searching for the saddest song
He walks over to the river
He hears birds sing
Perched above
A tree

A tree
Sad, looming
He hears birds sing
He walks over to the river
Searching for the saddest song
Rumi returns late in the afternoon

Ramona puts out her hand for rumi
To hand over the melancholic lyric
He brought it from the river
Where birds sing, sadly
The saddest song
A long cry

A long cry
The saddest song
Sad songs the birds sang
From over by the rio grande river
A lyric so sad and melancholic both cried
Ramona and rumi cried into each other hands

Ramona and rumi cried along the river of El Rio Grande
After listening to the saddest song the birds sang
Perched above, sad on the anacua tree
Then they slowly came to a hush
The saddest song
A body

A body
A song on replay
Slowly rising from the waters
A small child, a belt, no shoes, one sock
All the birds flee, carrying with them the saddest song

Ramona’s instructions on how to handle the death of a pet chicken

On how to handle the death of a pet chicken:

get down to her level, look into her eyes,
promise her she won't be eaten, tell her she's
the prettiest chicken that ever lived,
read a poem about clouds to her,
code-switch when praying at her feet,
show her where her altar will be when she passes,
bring the other pets in the family to show respect,
promise you won’t eat eggs for nine days as a novena,
kiss her beak, and wait.

Ramona sings her a lullaby,
rumi at a distance, shovel in hand,
prays to the earth for permission to dig.

Saturday, June 9, 2018

Free Workshop Fail! Turns into a blessing in disguise

So, I was really pumped up about Saturday mornings workshop, "Catching Quetzalcoatl: Overcoming Writer's Block" a FREE workshop as part of the Poet Laureate series. I got home from work at 3:45AM and set my alarm for 8AM. I woke up, read a little out in my backyard while Lorca and Winston (Schnauzer and Terrier mutt mix respectively) did their business on the nopales and pile of crab grass i'm yet to pick up. Anyways, I showered and put on my new t-shirt (see photo). Drove to Starbucks to get a box coffee for the workshop, they give you cups and sugar and the fixings. Then I headed to De Alba bakery for a delicious mix of pan dulce. Then got to the McAllen Creative Incubator, went up to the classroom and set up. Waited, Waited, here comes Anaia Irish with her cool white framed glasses and sat down to chat with me. 

Workshop was from 10am to 12:30pm, we had coffee and chatted til 12:30pm. 

Thank you Anaia for lifting my spirits today. We talked about life, spirituality, poetry, photography, and then we headed out to Harlingen where she has an exhibit up at Platform 204 called: Soror Dolorosa: Our Sister of Sorrows 
(a few pics only, go out and see this wonderful exhibit)

Then we headed out to have lunch at Rio Grande Grill, where Danyul Wright hooked it up with the Brisket, Anaia got her cajeta fix, Tam visited from San Anto, and Cayetano played the harmonica like a beast.

If you enjoyed this post, please like and share with friends. I will be doing artist interviews, book reviews, prompt posts, and more. 

Look for my new book coming later this month from Hercules Press.

Oh yeah! Here's the Shirt!

Where To Catch Me In This Pandemic

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