Reading on Sunday

Nervous? more like jumbled, rattled, hyperventilating, dry mouth, trembling hands... But, the applause after reading my first poem, Interview with Coyote, AND seeing my friend, Karina's reassuring face in the audience, smoothed out the rough edges, and the rest came naturally. My display of art, broadsides, and my roadkill parts and pieces added to the full effect of my reading. You have to appreciate the organic. one of a kind, business card holder. The afternoon was a success. I think I could even do it again! 

I am Deborah Ramos and I write about roadkill....

When I drove past the lifeless coyote on the side of the road, his spirit went through me, and I wept. I needed to know that Coyote met his demise with courage and honor, so I had this conversation in my car, out loud. This will be one of the selections I'm reading on Sunday.

Interview with Coyote

Abandoned, broken, leaning against a roadside cross.   

A new day for Coyote, just another day for me.   

Coyote, tell me, did you see it comin'?

Nobody ever sees it comin', my sister.   

too busy watchin' out for the arched neck of my enemy, 

too distracted listenin' for the howls of territorial war.  

Was there no escape for you, Old Man?

I did not want the escape, pale sister,    

the cracks, the curves, all painted in the blood  

of every pack brother that's stood at this cross in the road, 
the deafening upheaval came,

the earth split wide enough to swallow all my relatives,  
and I surrendered.

 Were you afraid, Barking Jackal?  

Fur bristled up my back,  

my nails chiseled deep

in the hardened-soot-covered field,   

my eyes narrowed to slits,  

my lungs inhaled the dusty night, 

is that being afraid?  

So, this was a humbling experience for you, Brave Brother?

I trembled in awe of its cunning power,

but I was not humbled, sad sister, 

to be plucked from the pack,  

to thrash from the relentless squeezing of the skins. .

to drip warm and weak is an honor.

Any words of wisdom for your cousins, Phantom Wolf?

Only this, weeping sister,   

cease to be an obstacle in Its path,

the invasion cannot be stopped.

Drop your pelts and dance through the Wall of Fire.  

Create the world and hang the stars  

before your nose turns black as raven.

Abandoned, broken,

I leaned a plastic tulip against the roadside cross.

Poetry reading in the park....

I did it, my friends. I am getting into the poetry reading zone. I even look up from time to time, but I really don't  see anyone. Does being nervous affect one's eyesight? I read two of my pieces, one sensual camping in the meadow piece, and one rascally hitting rock bottom with my friends piece. I will be posting both on my Deborah's Poetry page. 

night-bed

come close, 

let me splatter you

with my primal perfume

bodies fuse together,

the taste soaks into

your dripping chocolate skin.

our echoes arouse

the sleeping meadow,

ears perk from their night beds.

sticky embraces smoulder into dreaming.

Sage reads Birds at the annual poetry event in Balboa Park

She wowed the listening crowd.

Birds 

birds fly through big leafy trees

I've never heard a bird sing,

but I know they sing

because birds like  music.

at the poetry bench

My Granddaughter, Sage, slipping her newest poem, Birds, into the poetry drop box at the Poetry Bench in Balboa Park. Come join the writing community on Sunday, August 28, at the Poetry Bench, corner of 6th and Quince, 3pm to 5 pm. Pack a lunch and bring a blanket for the annual celebration of summer and writing. Bring something to read. Good writing, friendly writers, what could be better?

Poets at the Bench

Sage's Poet Face

Switch on to Summer...

This summer I am able to attend the Blue Light Press poetry  workshop in San Francisco, facilitated by Diane Frank, chief editor of Blue light Press. I'll be spending four days immersed in a poetic retreat and enjoying cultural events, adventures in dining, and a little wine tasting at the Wharf. Johnny and I went the summer of 2009, so I am so happy to be attending this summer. I have a couple of new pieces I will workshop. yes, get the creative juices flowing. Making a checklist. If anyone has any suggestions, please leave a comment or two! I definitely want to go to Berkeley this time and see the Anthropology Museum. There are artifacts from Ishi's family, the last man from the Yahi tribe. I think he is my favorite historical figure. Click on the link.

Bear Poo in Muir Woods, berries for added texture 

Ocean Beach, across from our hotel. Brrrr...

Summer is here....

My granddaughter, Sage, in her Three Piggie Opera premiere, singing Bricks I sell. Or, as she says it, Brickth I Thell. Enjoy.