blackout!

do you know that scorps song? i have to go you tube it to let you hear it, it's been in my head all day. we had a blackout last night at the poetry intensive, and it took some effort but i convinced a few other poets to sit in utter darkness with me.

what will happen when the emergency lights go out?

one asked

your eyes will adjust, trust me.

now, it took some doing but the group stopped opening phones and strobing the flashlight and our eyes adjusted. so much so, that when around midnight power was restored, we nearly went blind. and shut the door and turned off all the lights. the eerie red exit signs aglow again (even the backup power had faded in the hours that had passed).

all the aged and infirm poets (wonderfully so, we are all aged and infirm in some way) had safely navigated the stairs before the lights went out, but we daring folk stayed down in the sun room and watched the rain and thunder.

we had our saturday night poetry reading to flashlight and wrote some horrible poems in the round, which got raunchier as the night progressed, but everyone was in hysterics and we were glad to be together.

the time goes too quickly and our affection alone seems to match its pace.

this was the first time i felt fully accepted by even the academics in the group. and that pleased me. as many of these poets are award winners and professors themselves. to sit with them and read, to create from the same prompts and have poems go mano y mano is something indeed.

i missed my girl and wrote a lot about her. her laughing face so clear in my mind. but i did also write a few of the purging sad poems i had to write simply because i had to.

there is something to be said for poetry prompts. they throw open the psychic door and stuff comes flooding out.

on the way home we went by a poetry celebration of the various anthologies in the area. three rows library research tables (about two or three end to end) and a couple singles scattered around housed the journals of the area. the room was thick with poets. everyone there, probably. and i recognized a few faces, recognized more names. and was grateful to be recognized in return in a few instances.

it is good to be in these places. good to be present. i knew two poets but not personally, big names, approachable, but i had nothing to say. so i just kept walking. i never want to schmooze, or network.

and i'm told i probably should not have selfpublished my work because it can cause problems later, but i don't live for later, i live for now.

so i am unremorseful.

at the end of the retreat this weekend, the matriarch's counterpart announced that my books were there, and i inquired about participating in a huge reading series going on and was told,

email me, i'll put you on the list.

simple as that.

i'm tired, but refreshed. glad to be home in the strange comfort that is my life. even more grateful to have been around poets whom i am now truly able to call my friends.

peace.



blackout
by scorpions

I realize I missed a day
But I'm too wrecked to care anyway
I look around and see this face
What the hell have I lost my taste
Don't want to find out
Just want to cut out

My head explodes, my ears ring
I can't remember just where I've been
The last thing that I recall
I got lost in a deep black hole
Don't want to find out
Just want to cut out

Blackout
I really had a blackout

Blackout
I really had a blackout

Blackout
I really had a blackout

Blackout
I really had a blackout

I grab my things and make my run
On the way out, another one
Would like to know before I stop
Did I make it or did I flop
Don't want to find out
Just want to get out

Blackout
I really had a blackout

Blackout
I really had a blackout

Blackout
I really had a blackout

Blackout
I really had a blackout

Don't want to find out
Just want to get out

Blackout
I really had a blackout!