January Open Mic: Featured Poet Lisa Metzger

Only four poems. Imagine that. January’s featured reader and new Just Poet, Lisa Metzger, made it short and bittersweet. Metzger, a writing instructor at RIT, and former Adirondack Wilderness guide, covered a lot of hard territory in a very short time. Her first poem, about time with her grandmother in North Carolina Grannie’s Grapevine, held lessons learned as a child. The next poem, about the death of a friend on Whiteface Mountain, delicately blended winter scenery into the weight of the tragedy. Her final poems, The Knot about post-divorce, and Dis-ease, the need to end a difficult friendship, cut grit hard. All were set up and delivered well; an honest read.

Open mic was exceptional as well. There were so many poets (18) anxious to read, JP host David Yockel had to enforce the “three minute” rule. And Ken Kelbaugh owner of Before Your Quiet Eyes bookstore needed to set up another row or two of seats. Good stuff poured forth. Last night’s poets who read were: Laura Klinkon, Robert McDonough, Maril Nowak, Jere Fletcher, Frank Judge, Jim Jordan, Bill Pruitt, David Delaney, Kevin Minh, Gracen Lynch, Roy Bent, David Purdy, Jennifer Maloney, Reily Hirst, David Michael Nixon, Bart White, Charles “CB” Banks, and David Yockel.

Many outstanding poems; just a note on a few; Jere Fletcher’s Honor Them a poignant piece on the sacrifice of war; Bill Pruitt’s The Names of Algae an assessment of our world and need for action by those who have the means to act; Gracen Lynch’s original piece about corners “eight billion corners in this round world,” Reily Hirst’s I Will Never be the Same = a smart rock-and-river metaphor about love. And CB’s Murder of Crows about justice, cleverly cloaked in feather. 

A good night for poetry and good night for Just Poets.

 

August featured poet Jennifer Maloney & open mic

Just Poets welcomed first-year member Jennifer Maloney as the featured reader for our second Wednesday of the month reading at Before Your Quiet Eyes, Ken Kelbaugh’s fine bookstore on Monroe Avenue.

Maloney said the poems she read follow a twenty-year hiatus from writing when poverty, addiction, and mental and physical abuse dominated her life. Emphasizing survival, Maloney credits the gift of friends and community for her return to poetry, as well as advice from Ralph Waldo Emerson, quoting Polonius: “To thine own self be true.”

From her first poem, Fight Song, we realized the ambiguity of flight and fight, from “I’m loose, light, and ready,” then “shit peppered with love … maybe she’s dying of love,” to “I watch him silently planning his next drunk.” The flight soon becomes a fight for survival in Women’s Meeting, in which the poem’s voice rose “high, high, high … then dropped back down … like a shovelful of graveyard dirt.” In The Floor a child’s voice says “I can’t explain the taste of the floor,” as the older-wiser voice reflects, “Children believe … they try to make sense.” The adult voice of Stars and Stripes wants her flag freed from the insanity in Washington today: “We are too old for tears,” and at night we have the stars as window blinds “stripe the floor with moonlight.”

Next Maloney lightened the atmosphere with several pet poems. Sammy, a dog, “stretches one leg back, arabesque,” as if he were a ballet dancer, and provides comfort: “Sammy has faith in us, faith in himself.” The man who hates his woman’s cats, The Man Who Loved Cats Dancing, wields the power of the tuna can while calling them filthy names and screaming at them to “use the scratching post!” Indeed, “they listen to him.” And for every pet-lover, Thou Good and Faithful dog who died thirty-plus years ago is remembered for “the white, muddy feathers of his underbelly.” He is “warm, wet and stinking … is there anything more than this?

Maloney closed with four powerful pieces. Miss September finds a California sugar-daddy in “the place where honeypot meets honey trap.” A typical take on an air-headed beauty? No, Miss September “isn’t stupid … Miss October isn’t 18.How Things End begins at home where “the lights went off.” A couple living in their car eats “the last of the bananas,” thinking “we could drive home, but there’s nothing there. … At least the car has blankets.” In Of Miracles Tatiana is a short young black woman mistaken by police for a tall black male suspect. She is beaten by the Bakersfield PD and bitten by their dog. She “made the mistake of thinking she was an American citizen.” Maloney’s observation: “The real crime is not driving while Black … but breathing while Black.” Like Maloney, Tatiana is a survivor.

Closing out, The Poet’s Lament poked fun at all of us when we take ourselves too seriously: “Do you know who was better, Bukowski or Ginsberg?” Maloney’s advice is learn to “shut the hell up … simply let someone else speak. … After all, we are just poets.”

Or was it Just Poets?! The room was rapt and packed. A dozen readers offered their work at the open mic. The Coffee Connection, a non-profit supporting women in recovery, provided regular, decaf, and decadent cookies. Thanks again to Ken for providing the space in which such magic happens.

Maril Nowak

Open Mic