Posts Tagged ‘Rutherford’

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GV – Klein, Venette, and the Dulls

February 17, 2018

MELANIE AND KEN AND JOHN AND MARTIN
IN THE MAGIC CIRCLE

The Magic Circle features a couple of couples on February 26th! Featured musicians will be JOHN AND MARTIN DULL, returning for an encore visit. Featured poets will be MELANIE KLEIN AND KEN VENETTE and we hear Ken has a new chapbook in hand. As always we will have our Bring-Your-A-Game open mic featuring the Red Wheelbarrow Poets.

A $9 cover includes coffee/tea, dessert. 7 PM

GainVille Café,
17 Ames Avenue, Rutherford
201-507-1800

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RWB Workshop Poem of the Week – February 13

February 14, 2018

Poem of the Week 2/13/18

Sometimes At Night

Della Rowland

Sleep is best done on the couch
where I become a baby in the bassinette,
lying on my back, arm thrown up,
a wisp of sleep-wet hair on my forehead,
blissful breath gurgling up little sugar bubbles
at the corners of my mouth.

My mouth is salty now,
the sea rises and falls in my breath.

Sometimes at night I imagine the big rig drivers,
18-wheelers parked on the side of an on-ramp,
curled up in the bunk between the bed and cab,
wearing all their clothes,
sugar bubbles in their coffee breath.

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RWB Workshop Poem of the Week – February 6

February 10, 2018

Poem of the Week 02/06/2018

On The Pascack Valley Line

Bill Moreland

6797

HILLSDALE

This morning
a gazillion bugs awakened
under a canopy of grass blades holding
a gazillion sunrises reflected
which the dew drops refracted,
so,
endless water balloon suns
were collected.
Good Morning. Good Morning.
Good Morning. Good Morning.
It sure is brilliant today.

WESTWOOD

Rubber wires droop home
to the webbed transformer.

EMERSON

A lot of people at this stop.
Does everybody have to look like a cop?
Did the Tactical Narco FBI short bus break down or what!
Oh, I forgot, this stop hosts a Dunkin Donuts.
So criss cross Kinderkamack
and glide.
A cell tower, taller than the trees
tries to mingle somehow in pathetic imitation
by stabbing itself with giant pine green
pipe cleaners.
A brief respite, a caress of less with lush scenery is short lived,
a golf course…of course.

ORADELL

Palm fronds and an oddly shaped hunk of caved in drain
in early utility mundane
stuck in the mud, part of the terrain,
so, we glide.
Again the rubber wires scoop along
on a wobbly parallel track with the track
past PSE&G, and the Transit Bus Garage
into the brush
hushing into

RIVEREDGE

Leaves are full, still green
and still.
A few more clamor aboard.
So, glide.
The deep green vegetation
holds the shadow, hovers over holly bushes
their backs to the sunrise, they
hide the ugly river.
“Tickets!, Hoboken?…”

NORTH HACKENSACK

The curbs are getting higher.
The litter, deeper.
The tracks more brittle,
sharper at the edges.
Short field weeds run amok
along and behind the mile square graveyard.

ANDERSON ST.

My stop.

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Blog – http://redwheelbarrowpoets.org (248 followers)
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/RWBPoets (405 likes)
Twitter – https://twitter.com/RWBPoets (104 followers)

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RWB Workshop Poem of the Week – January 30

February 1, 2018

Poem of the Week 01/30/2018

The Knollwood Inn

Bobbie O’Connor

Full moon crowd. It’s Friday night time.
Start by the bar clock, not the right time.
Push the pool table against the wall
Before you set up your equipment an’ all.

Mingle with the people at the tables an’ stools.
Get requests, compliments an’ rules.
Don’t play so soft. Don’t play so loud.
Rip it up. Slow it down. Please the crowd.

Read their minds, you’ll have it made.
Wait for the place to close before you get paid.
Pack up everything. Don’t leave it here.
Pay up your tab. Don’t slip on the beer.

Learn their favorite song to get work there again,
But the best boss we ever had was Len.
He’d even leave it up to us what time to begin,
An’ it was fun workin” at The Knollwood Inn.

We left for what we thought was a better gig
But we were sorry afterwards — sorry big!
At every gig, after that, again an’ again,
We knew the best boss we ever had was Len.

He was a former entertainer an’ really knew
what it was like an’ what we went through.
Each night he had our pay all ready, no fuss,
an’ the minute we finished, it was handed to us.

We accumulated fans in dribs an’ drabs.
Don’t forget to sing “I Fall to Pieces” for Babs.
Singin’ everybody’s favorite song—
How nice it would’ve been if we had Lennie all along.

Sing this song for Rudy, do that favorite of Jake’s
Dancin’ to the jukebox during the breaks—
“Good to see you, Mary.” – “Pat, how ya been?”
It was fun workin’ at The Knollwood Inn.

It’s strange. Gigs change, but always much gear to pack
An when workin’ far, the awful long drive back.
When workin’ nearby, we’d head for a diner.
Breakfast at 3 a.m. – nothing finer.

Than chattin’ over coffee til the sun comes up.
Too wound up to sleep yet, so have another cup.
Sometimes we’d spend free nights brainstorming for jobs,
occasionally struggling through crowded mobs.

Workin’ bars wasn’t always like I planned,
With drunks fallin’ into my microphone stand.
I’ve been flashed, an I’ve been shoved,
An I’ve been ripped off, but I’ve been loved.

Hey, let’s hear it for a hard-workin’ band!
Come on, everybody, give the guys a big hand!
We had good times. Sometimes we’d win,
An’ it was fun workin’ at The Knollwood Inn.

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Blog – http://redwheelbarrowpoets.org (247 followers)
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RWB Workshop Poem of the Week – January 23

January 27, 2018

Poem of the Week 01/23/2018

Christmas, 1976

Jennifer Poteet

My mother took our first Christmas tree
and hurled it into the backyard.
The tree was artificial, already decorated
with little red bows.
Dad and I had just purchased it from Korvettes.
We hadn’t yet added the lights.

My parents screamed at each other
near the sliding glass door
of the living room. I don’t know
if it was about the tree, or her being Jewish,
or something else,
but soon all the gift-wrapped presents
were out in the yard, too.

I went upstairs to my room,
listened to records,
and harmonized with Joni Mitchell’s Blue.
I drew ladies’ faces in profile,
and, with each sketch,
made their hair bigger, more outrageous.

The house was Christmas quiet when I woke up.
It had snowed again, overnight.
Both cars were gone from the driveway,
and I could see my mother’s wedding ring
glint on the kitchen counter.

I put on my coat,
went out to the backyard,
and did what I was in the familiar business of doing.
I dragged everything back inside
and tried to put things right.

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Blog – http://redwheelbarrowpoets.org (246 followers)
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GV – Joel Allegretti and Addie Mahmassani

January 17, 2018

ADDIE’S BACK, AND JOEL HAS A NEW BOOK

The Magic Circle opens for 2018 on January 26th featuring the return of singer/songwriter/poet ADDIE MAHMASSANI, with featured poet JOEL ALLEGRETTI reading from his new book PLATYPUS. As always we will have our Bring-Your-A-Game open mic featuring the Red Wheelbarrow Poets.

An $9 cover includes coffee/tea, dessert

GainVille Café
17 Ames Avenue
Rutherford
201-507-1800.

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RWB Workshop Poem of the Week – January 16

January 17, 2018

Poems of the Week 01/16/2018

One More for Andy

Arthur Russell

The roof feels bad for not having stopped him,
but it was helpless tarpaper, parapets with
terracotta capstones where the kids sit
to gaze at Gravesend Bay,
one plastic lawn chair short of a quorum,
and the salsa music from the 6th floor windows,

and the smell of stew, which can heal most anything,
came up the stairs past the door that had promised
an alarm would sound.

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Blog – http://redwheelbarrowpoets.org (246 followers)
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/RWBPoets (398 likes)
Twitter – https://twitter.com/RWBPoets (103 followers)