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rarely do I encounter
a blog that’s both educative and entertaining,
and let me tell you,
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I can go to a clean place.
(revised for november 11, 2011)
why don’t dreams speak english
why do i crave coffee and salt
why can’t two or more lovers
vie for my affection with flowers
sonnets, chocolate, pearls
& boat trips down the seine
why don’t we hold hands anymore
why don’t we give people names to war games
like we do with hurricanes:
peggy sue instead of desert storm,
sam & dave
instead of shock & awe
(it might be hard to take all this fighting seriously
if patriot missiles were called emily
& soldiers were all called sarah)
why don’t we search with flashlights
instead of with big tanks
for more things to destroy
why are my eyes so red
where have all the flowers gone
who knows where the time goes
does anybody really know what time it is?
why do i eat when i’m not hungry
why don’t i just sleep when i’m too tired to stand
when did i get so naive
when did i first practice to deceive
when did i let myself go
and what the christ happened to our prayer flags?
who’s in charge
who goes first
whose is biggest …
who won, dammit, WHO WON?
what does it matter;
everyone’s still so bloody scared
& can somebody please explain to the virtual jarhead
in the back of the room
the killer irony of lining up to buy a videogame
that lets us make sport of the brutality of war
on the eve of remembrance day?
where’s the love? / that’s your call of duty
where’s the love? / that’s your call of duty
where’s the love? / yes sir, that’s your call of duty
hell, why can’t somebody just invent a peace bomb?
if there’s really a wise & loving god,
why does everybody look so fucking sad?
News item, February 2011:
Toronto the Good ditches longtime nicknames T.O., T.Dot and Hogtown; dubs itself ‘El Toro.’
Please refer to Seinfeld episode #175: You cannot give yourself a nickname. It must be bestowed upon you by others. As George Costanza discovered, when you try to get people to call you ‘T-Bone’ you end up being called ‘Koko.’
Ironically (or was it a
cry-for-attention cheeky collective nod to Seinfeld?), ‘T-Bone’ was runner-up in the Eye Weekly contest that unleashed ‘El Toro.’
Whatever. Nine months have passed since CBC television host Evan Solomon, one of the celebrity judges, proclaimed the winning moniker has ‘a delightfully multicultural tinge.’ Right. So … Is anyone actually referring to Toronto
as El Toro?
Didn’t think so.
two bruised peaches on the subway platform
samuel taylor coleridge on the TTC
two new moleskin notebooks
to match your bergundy chick-magnet blundstones
whispering around the henry moore
gourmet popcorn on the menu at starbucks
man on crutches to litterer: you dropped something.
litterer: thank you.
man on crutches: you dropped something.
litterer: you’re welcome.
man on crutches: so why don’t you pick it up?
litterer: fuck you.
man on crutches: aren’t you going to pick it up?
litterer: fuck you!
man on crutches: pick it up!
litterer: go fuck yourself!
you miss chagall at the AGO by one week
dark green centre
lochhead . riopelle . borduas
shamanic art ^^^ automatist painting ^^ ahhhhh ^
canadian landscape (NFB movie
featuring a.y. jackson, 1941
you know, the year your grandmother
‘can paradise ever be achieved?‘
A) damnshit right it can. got some of it right here ahhhh ahhhh ^^^^^ ahhhhh ^^
B) not without modern appliances
robert motherwell says art = an experience, not an object.
general idea says poodles = “the hairdresser’s little friend”
(which of course = code for “SO GAY!”) ^~^~^~^
it’s obvious you’ve been wondering:
what is it about the poet brain?
what sets those sad captains apart?
is it hope? belief in miracles?
in true love in daffodils in forever?
you may not be ready to hear this but the truth is
when we myopic fools finish deep wrestling with a particularly obstreperous line
or recalcitrant couplet
we more frequently than we care to admit
wake up in a strange hotel room days later
lying next to stanzas smeared with blood and mascara
exclamation marks reeking the sweaty sour reek of vodka
hungover commas retching into the morning-after porcelain
(which act of punctuational thuggery
tore the bathroom door off its hinges this time?)
the fetid stench of onomatopoeia
hanging in the air
like stale pizza
oh look look at the clever hipster youngster
being wicked funny on queen street
‘donation? donation?’ he giggles, waving an empty coffee cup
under the noses of saturday night flaneurs and leafs fans.
the genius is wearing a $200 gap sweater and shiny italian shoes.
begging as a lark, it’s such a joke, will anyone toss a coin
into his blatantly un-needy cup?
(true homelessness has become just so banal …)
three blocks later another sharp dresser grabs your arm and asks for change.
no but i’ll give you five bucks for that leather jacket
— what? fuck. no. seriously, lady. i need it for food. i haven’t eaten in three days.
— PLEASE! THREE DAYS!
you start walking away so he accosts the person behind you
with even more hostility in his voice.
— for food! PLEASE!
then he leans against a brick wall and (blatantly, defiantly) lights up a joint.
geez, pal, if you can afford weed surely you can afford a cheeseburger
Nice to know that, more than a year after its publication, new readers are still trying White Shirt on for size. Lovely review posted on Amazon.com a couple of weeks ago by Rob Jacques of Puget Sound; here are just a few snippets:
Poems about an implacable determination to experience joy
Laurie MacFayden’s poems are bright, colorful splashes of language with highlights of rhyme and meter that capture human angst about love, youth, and yearning — boisterous, roughhousing, tomboyish poems. But for all of their energy and muscle-flexing, they have a wonderful, carefully crafted artistry that contains and balances their zesty play on words, zany metaphors and sexual exuberance.
“The collection opens with a poem that’s going to be anthologized for the next couple of centuries: ‘My Date With Jackson Pollock.’ MacFayden probably spent a year working out the absolutely magnificent, colorful linguistic twists and curls that exactly duplicate a Jackson Pollock painting, the poet bursting with the same highly charged, only partially contained life-energy of the painter. The provocative socio-sexual interplay between the narrator and the painter is an intense thing of beauty in itself, and the poem rewards discerning re-reading with fresh connections between paint and language.
“Poetry and humanity both need her lusty, never-give-up, never-stay-down spirit wrapped in masterfully executed poems.”
You can read the whole blessed thing here.
The Poetry of Water
Consider what water represents to you – symbolically, elementally, metaphorically – when viewing The Poetry of Water, a solo exhibition of 24 of my paintings currently on display at the Kaasa Gallery, lower level of Edmonton’s Jubilee Auditorium.
Water refreshes. It has the power to calm us, cleanse us, mesmerize us and, literally, buoy us. Fundamentally, it quenches our thirst; we could not survive on this planet without it.
We talk of healing waters, and of still waters running deep. Water can also have powerful negative/destructive connotations: drowning, flooding, the turbulence of stormy seas, tidal waves, etc.
In Jungian dream analysis,
water represents intuition, emotion and the depths of the unconscious.
Water can also symbolize the womb, amniotic life, the fetal period.
In alchemy terms, it is the source of everything: prima materia. The source of water is the source of Life.
The wetness continues through mid-August.
The good folks at the Lambda Literary Awards have posted one of my white-shirted poems, when lust and prayer collide, in the run-up to next week’s gala ceremony.
I’m still pretty much pinching myself at the thought of being in the same room as Edward Albee and Stephanie Powers. Kate Clinton and Katherine Forrest might not be household names to a straight audience, but Forrest’s Curious Wine is a coming-out classic to those of us of a certain generation; and many of us cut our lesbian literary teeth on her Kate Delafield detective mysteries. Clinton, meanwhile, describes herself on her website as a “faith-based, tax-paying, America-loving political humorist and family entertainer” … who has “worked through economic booms and busts, Disneyfication and Walmartization, gay movements and gay markets, lesbian chic and queer eyes, and eight presidential inaugurals.” She believes humour “gets us through peacetime, wartime, scoundrel time and economic down times.”
As for Powers … what can I say? She’s mostly known as half of the TV show Hart To Hart, but long before that, right around the time I was becoming acquainted with Louise Fitzhugh’s fictional tomboy extraordinaire, Harriet the Spy, Powers starred in The Girl From U.N.C.L.E. as a girl spy (GIRL SPY!) named April Dancer. Swoon.
Here’s the full scoop on the 2011 Lammys:
Three-time Pulitzer Prize winning playwright Edward Albee and Gold Dagger Award-winning crime fiction writer Val McDermid will be special honorees at the 23rd Annual Lambda Literary Awards ceremony to be hosted by comedienne Lea DeLaria on Thursday, May
26 in New York City at the School of Visual Arts Theater. Tony Award-winning playwright Terrence McNally will introduce Albee, and pioneering lesbian mystery writer Katherine V. Forrest will introduce McDermid.
Historically one of the most glamorous LGBT literary events in the country, this cer
emony brings together over 400 attendees, sponsors, and celebrities to celebrate excellence in LGBT literature.
“At this year’s ceremony, the Foundation has the incredible honor of bestowing its Pioneer Awards on the greatest living playwright of our time, Edward Albee, and on one of our great crime writers, Val McDermid, who will be coming to New York all the way from her home in the U.K.,” says LLF Executive Director, Tony Valenzuela. “Lambda’s Pioneer Awards are important because they pay tribute to those who, through their considerable achievements and passionate commitment, have contributed to our literary community in significant and tangible ways.”
The Lambda Awards glamour quotient will reach a new high with this year’s stellar roster of presenters who represent a diverse cross section from the worlds of film, television, theatre, politics, religion, sex, and of course literature. Gracing the stage will be film and television actress Stefanie Powers, former New Jersey Governor and Episcopal priest in training Jim McGreevey, comedienne Kate Clinton, transgender photographer Amos Mac and feminist porn actress and director Tristan Taormino, to name just a few.
Immediately following the awards ceremony will be a VIP after-party at Chelsea’s Cheim & Read, the legendary art gallery that has exhibited Robert Mapplethorpe, Don Barchardy, and Diane Arbus. Louise Burgeois: The Fabric Works will currently be on exhibit. The performance troop Unitard (Mike Alboof the Underminer, Nora Burns, of the Nellie Olesons, and David Ilku, of the Dueling Bankheads) will provide their twisted and sardonic brand of entertainment.
“Everyone’s talking about Terrence McNally presenting a Pioneer Award to Edward Albee, but wait until they see Stefanie Powers present Best Gay Fiction wearing Alexander McQueen,” says Chris Shirley, New York City Host Committee Co-Chair. “Our host, Lea DeLaria is a riot, and where else can you see Miss New York and Mr. Gay USA walk the red carpet then appear on the same stage? For the safety of our audience members, we may install seatbelts.”
I can’t wait.
I will also try to remember the words of a legendary football coach, who advised his players: “If you get to the end zone, act like you’ve been there before.”
White Shirt has been shortlisted for another literary award.
Last month my debut poetry book was named a finalist for the Lambda Literary Awards. Today I received an email from the Golden Crown Literary Society (GCLS), informing me that the book is also a finalist for the “Goldies” in the lesbian poetry category.
The GCLS is a literary and educational organization “for the enjoyment, discussion, and enhancement of lesbian literature. Our goals are to support and strengthen quality lesbian literature by providing places for readers and writers to interact, to encourage and assist new writers and established authors, and to recognize and promote lesbian work.”
The winners of the Goldie Awards will be announced at a conference in Orlando, Florida, on June 11. I am unable to attend, sadly, because my presence is needed right here in E-Town that weekend at GOD LOVES WHITE SHIRTS — a reading featuring the two Lammy-nominated authors from Edmonton — Vivek Shraya (God Loves Hair) and myself. That’s on Sunday, June 12 (the front end of Pride Week) at Cafe Leva, starting at 2 p.m.
I WILL, however, be attending the gala Lammy Awards ceremony in New York City on May 26 with my lovely and talented partner. Thanks to the overwhelmingly generous support of our awesome friends, neighbours and loved ones, we earned enough at Saturday’s ‘Big Apple or Bust’ art sale to feed and shelter ourselves during our stay in Chelsea, and to even get ourselves back home again.
Heartfelt thanks again to everyone who helped make the fundraiser a huge success.
Great news today – just learned that White Shirt made the shortlist for the Lambda Literary Awards in the Lesbian Poetry category:
“Finalists for the Lambda Literary Award were announced today by the Lambda Literary Foundation in Los Angeles. Books from major mainstream publishers and from academic presses, from both long-established and brand new LGBT publishers, and even from emerging publish-on-demand technologies, make up the 114 finalists for the ‘Lammys.’ The finalists were selected from a record number of nominations.
“The awards, now in their 23rd year, celebrate achievement in lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) writing for books published in 2010. Winners will be announced at a May 26 ceremony in New York at the School of Visual Arts Theater (333 West 23rd Street).
“Lambda set a record in 2009 for both the number of LGBT books nominated (462) and the number of publishers participating (about 200), reports Lambda Awards Administrator Richard Labonté. But that record has been surpassed this year, with more than 520 titles represented from about 230 publishers.”
The other four lesbian poetry finalists, from 17 titles submitted, are Jen Currin’s The Inquisition Yours; Money For Sunsets, by Elizabeth J. Colen; The Nights Also, by Anna Swanson; and The Sensual World Re-Emerges, by Eleanor Lerman.
Other Canadians who made the Lammys shortlist include Edmonton’s Vivek Shraya for God Loves Hair (LGBT Children’s/YA category); and Zoe Whittall, whose Holding Still For As Long As Possible is a finalist in two categories: Transgendered Fiction and Lesbian Fiction.
Lend your ears to music, open your eyes to painting, and … stop thinking! Just ask yourself whether the work has enabled you to walk about into a hitherto unknown world. If the answer is yes, what more do you want?
The more frightening the world becomes … the more art
Of all the arts, abstract painting is the most difficult. It demands that you know how to draw well, that you have a heightened sensitivity for composition and for colours, and that you be a true poet. This last is essential.
— Wassily Kandinsky