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Poem Of The Day

RIVER
Nic Alea

I think I am the river, no.
I think I am the alphabet, no.
I think I am in the back of
the car slamming my head against
the seat, I think I am screaming, no,
careless, maybe, I think I am too fast
over this canyon, I think my tape player
is stuck singing about the rain or
a field or no, this is a canyon and canyons
have the once upon a time river stuck to
the bottom, I’m going to hit the bottom
and it’s going to burn like the summer
and we feel good peeling the dead skin
off our shoulders and I press my thumb
into your chest to watch my imprint glow
against you, I think you forgot about me,
maybe we kissed goodbye on your bed with
the windows open and the orange house across
the street steamed like a fat sun and I fell all over
the wood floor, the dashboard smashing at the base of the canyon,
I’m a melted crayon, no, I’m a dried up riverbed, no,
you are kissing my mouth, no, neck, the canyon is opening
and a thousand moths fly up to the road,
I think my car is charred,
I am an empty gas tank,
when you kiss me,
I spit lonely into your mouth,
that’s the worst part.

Posted in Blog, Poetry & Prose and tagged ,

Sarah McLachlan Shine On Tour Fall 2014

Sarah McLachlan Shine On Tour 2014
Oct. 18, 2014 Victoria, BC Save On Foods Memorial Centre
Oct. 20, 2014 Vancouver, BC Orpheum
Oct. 21, 2014 Vancouver, BC Orpheum
Oct. 23, 2014 Kamloops, BC Interior Savings Center
Oct. 24, 2014 Kelowna, BC Prospera Place
Oct. 25, 2014 Prince George, BC CN Centre
Oct. 27, 2014 Calgary, AB Southern Alberta Jubilee Auditorium
Oct. 28, 2014 Calgary, AB Southern Alberta Jubilee Auditorium
Oct. 29, 2014 Edmonton, AB Winspear Centre
Oct. 30, 2014 Edmonton, AB Winspear Centre
Nov. 1, 2014 Saskatoon, SK TCU Place
Nov. 2, 2014 Regina, SK Conexus Arts Centre
Nov. 3, 2014 Winnipeg, MB Centennial Concert Hall
Nov. 4, 2014 Thunder Bay, ON Community Auditorium
Nov. 6, 2014 Toronto, ON Massey Hall
Nov. 7, 2014 Toronto, ON Massey Hall
Nov. 8, 2014 Windsor, ON The Colosseum at Caesars Windsor
Nov. 10, 2014 Hamilton, ON Hamilton Place Theatre
Nov. 11, 2014 London, ON RBC Theatre at Budweiser Gardens
Nov. 13, 2014 Quebec City, QC Grand Theatre
Nov. 14, 2014 Ottawa, ON National Arts Centre
Nov. 15, 2014 Montreal, QC St. Denis
Nov. 16, 2014 Montreal, QC St. Denis
Nov. 18, 2014 Moncton, NB Coliseum
Nov. 19, 2014 Halifax, NS Metro Centre
Nov. 21, 2014 Corner Brook, NL Pepsi Centre
Nov. 22, 2014 St. John’s, NL Mile One

Posted in Blog

Sarah McLachlan Shine On Tour 2014

Sarah McLachlan Shine On Tour 2014
Jun. 20, 2014 Seattle, WA Saint Michelle Winery
Jun. 21, 2014 Seattle, WA Saint Michelle Winery
Jun. 22, 2014 Troutdale, OR Edgefield Amphitheatre
Jun. 24, 2014 Lake Tahoe, NV Harvey’s
Jun. 25, 2014 Santa Barbara, CA Santa Barbara Bowl
Jun. 27, 2014 Berkley, CA Greek Theater
Jun. 28, 2014 Los Angeles, CA Greek Theater
Jun. 29, 2014 San Diego, CA Humphrey’s
Jul. 1, 2014 Salt Lake City, UT Red Butte Garden
Jul. 2, 2014 Denver, CO Red Rocks Amphitheatre
Jul. 3, 2014 Kansas City, MO Starlight Amphitheatre
Jul. 5, 2014 Chicago, IL Ravinia
Jul. 6, 2014 St. Louis, MO Fox Theatre
Jul. 8, 2014 Minneapolis, MN State Theatre
Jul. 9, 2014 Milwaukee, WI Riverside Theatre
Jul. 11, 2014 Cincinnati, OH PNC Pavilion
Jul. 12, 2014 Detroit, MI Meadowbrook Music Festival
Jul. 13, 2014 Toledo, OH Zoo Amphitheatre
Jul. 14, 2014 Lewiston, NY Artpark
Jul. 16, 2014 Saratoga Springs, NY Saratoga PAC
Jul. 18, 2014 Bangor, ME Waterfront Pavilion
Jul. 19, 2014 Boston, MA Blue Hills Bank Pavilion
Jul. 20, 2014 Uncasville, CT Mohegan Sun Arena
Jul. 22, 2014 New York, NY Beacon Theatre
Jul. 23, 2014 New York, NY Beacon Theatre
Jul. 24, 2014 Philadelphia, PA Mann Center
Jul. 26, 2014 Vienna, VA The Filene Center @ Wolf Trap
Jul. 27, 2014 Charlottesville, VA nTelos Wireless Pavilion
Jul. 29, 2014 Nashville, TN Ryman Auditorium
Jul. 30, 2014 Atlanta, GA Chastain Park Amphitheatre
Aug. 1, 2014 New Orleans, LA Saenger Theatre
Aug. 2, 2014 Austin, TX ACL Live @ The Moody Theatre
Aug. 3, 2014 Dallas, TX AT&T Performing Arts Center

Poem Of The Day

Still I Rise

Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Posted in Blog, Poetry & Prose and tagged ,

Poem Of The Day

Sonnet

Bill Knott
The way the world is not
Astonished at you
It doesn’t blink a leaf
When we step from the house
Leads me to think
That beauty is natural, unremarkable
And not to be spoken of
Except in the course of things
The course of singing and worksharing
The course of squeezes and neighbors
The course of you tying back your raving hair to go out
And the course of course of me
Astonished at you
The way the world is not

Posted in Blog, Poetry & Prose and tagged

Poem Of The Day

Alexis Rhone Fancher

OVER IT

Now the splinter-sized dagger that jabs at my heart has
lodged itself in my aorta, I can’t worry it
anymore. I liked the pain, the
dig of remembering, the way, if I
moved the dagger just so, I could
see his face, jiggle the hilt and hear his voice
clearly, a kind of music played on my bones
and memory, complete with the hip-hop beat
of his defunct heart. Now what am I
supposed to do? I am dis-
inclined toward rehab. Prefer the steady
jab jab jab that reminds me I’m still
living. Two weeks after he died,
a friend asked if I was “over it.”
As if my son’s death was something to get
through, like the flu. Now it’s past
the five-year slot. Maybe I’m okay that he isn’t anymore,
maybe not. These days,
I am an open wound. Cry easily.
Need an arm to lean on. You know what I want?
I want to ask my friend how her only daughter
is doing. And for one moment, I want her to tell me she’s
dead so I can ask my friend if she’s over it yet.
I really want to know.

Poem Of The Day

Sage Cohen

HOW TO PRAY

I follow two steps behind my son
on the gravel path as he shouts

hello to ducks. The squirrel has lost
a stripe of fur down his back.

I should have married someone else.
A person can die of motherhood.

Even the flame maple’s promises
have stopped sleeping in the house.

He was gone years before he was
gone. First, he shot a doorway

through me, one complaint at a time.
Then he stepped through the place

my body once was and kept going.
He said he wanted to keep

trying, but what did that mean
in the absence of trying?

God, the cherry blossoms are in bloom.
This morning my son made me

an arrangement of flowers shredded
with scissors. I married a man

whose hands were unmade to please me.
I hold the vase like a torch.

Poem Of The Day

The Barnacle and the Gray Whale
by Cecilia Llompart

Said the Barnacle,

You enchant me, with your carnival
of force.

Yours is a system of slow.

There is you, the pulley
and there is you, the weight.

Your eyes wide on a hymn.

Your deep song like the turn
of that first,

that earliest of wheels.

Said the Whale,

I have seen you, little encruster,
in that business of fouling the ships.

Known, little drum machine, you
to tease out food from the drink.

Little thimble of chalk and hard water.

You could be a callus of whiter skin.

You could be a knucklebone. You
who hang on me,

like a conscience.

Posted in Blog, Poetry & Prose