January 2013 - Archives

Northside, After Book Group

For Linda Fletcher

At the brink of Compromise & Hemlock the street drops like a waterfall to lap the river where an outsized bottle of Heinz mother’s blood flows into the dark, winks out, refills as if forever.
Reversed magic—middle age—no gauge of anything. Stains of loss that fade yet leave a neon sting. A singer drones with the engine, moves through us— who gives a fuck if we understand his hook—
sunshine…front-line…sunshine…front-line… but something in that voice edges out fear, somehow we’re racing back to bypassed dawn, damp strings of night unwinding from our wheels.

sunshine…front-line…sunshine…front-line is from “Life on a Chain” by Pete Yorn.
ANGELE ELLIS's poetry has appeared on a theater marquee (after winning Pittsburgh Filmmakers' 2009 G-20 Haiku Contest), and along with her prose, in a number of periodicals, journals, and anthologies. She is the author of Spared (Main Street Rag), a 2011 Editors' Choice Chapbook Selection, and Arab on Radar (Six Gallery Press). A 2008 recipient of a poetry fellowship from the Pennsylvania Council on the Arts and a 2007 prizewinner in the RAWI Competition for Creative Prose, Angele lives in Pittsburgh's Friendship neighborhood.
                                                                                                                                                  

New Year, Good MoJo

As the famous song goes “Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne!” I began to think about 2012 and all the things that could possibly happen within one year.
January 2012 started out well and good, the husband, toddler and I celebrated the New Year in the comforts of our home, watching the ball drop in Times Square. We listened to the neighbors bang on pots and pans at the stroke of midnight. Somewhere along the way, the bad mojo entered into our lives and stayed for a while.
My grandmother was in a rehabilitation facility because she broke her shoulder. She was also very weak from reoccurring episodes of heart failure. The place was awful, I was not able to visit her in the facility as the husband, toddler and I suffered from the flu most of the month of January. The toddler started a new daycare and boy oh boy did the germs like him. I digress, the rehab place in my humble opinion is run by a bunch of unsmart people (I use the word unsmart because I am trying to be nice).
February was even worse than January. My grandmother passed away 18 years and a day from the day her husband died. It was a horrible snowstorm out, and the family was traveling to Mercy Hospital where she was taken from the unsmart rehab facility. It is an awful thing to watch a loved one die, incoherent, erratic breathing, and hospital he-be-ge-be’s… Yes, February was a downer.
The toddler continued to bring various germs home and I was a bit nervous about getting sick myself, as I found out I was pregnant. If you know anything about the post-partum I went through with the toddler, you would understand my nervousness. I was convinced something bad was going to happen, it didn’t and thank goodness for that… maybe the good mojo came back early?!
Fast forwarding to mid-summer, it is hot and I was very pregnant. I was also diagnosed with gestational diabetes. I still to this day have to say I think they were full of it and I was not a diabetic. I have a horrible fear of needles, I panic and tear up, it is not a pretty sight to witness at all and of course since I was a newly found diabetic, I was required to test myself FOUR times a day. I told them that it was impossible, as I had to get my husband to actually do the pricking of the finger for me. I couldn’t pack him up and take him to work with me like I do my lunch for crying out loud. It would truly suck if I were really diabetic – I wouldn’t be able to test myself.
Continuing to fast forward, October 2012 came around and I was in the nervous phase of the pregnancy. The baby was coming on the 17th and by the 16th I was nervous as all hell… I had surgery the following day and I was scared that bad things were going to happen afterwards like the last time. The surgery went fine and the baby was perfect. I was a little caught off guard on two specific instances when I was in the hospital. The first was the first night after my C-Section… I literally had to get out of the hospital bed and walk in order to get real food. I was beside myself, but I was hungry. But I did what anyone who was starved and hadn’t eaten a real meal in 24-hours… I very slowly got out of the bed and shuffled a few steps. The second was when I was eating dinner on another night and the nurse came in while I had a mouth full of food and attempted to take my temperature. Um, hello turkey dinner meet thermometer. REALLY?! Common sense would say to come back…
The rest of the year flew by and here we are again, watching the ball drop on Times Square. Resolutions for 2013… keeping the good mojo that I ended the year with, getting my toddler to eat something other than nuggets, noodles and chips. Hopefully not getting the flu bug this year. I feel like I should say eating healthier or exercising, but that sounds so cliché doesn’t it? That said, what’s your resolutions?
Nicole Leckenby is co-founder/editor of The Holiday Cafe. She works full-time at the University of Pittsburgh and runs after a very energetic two year old at home. She wrote her first book, My Crazy Life in 2008 and is currently working on a second.
                                                                                                                                                                   

The moon was her spotlight

She wore her mother’s fake fur coat like a pelt of night, slid arms into sleeves tight as tree bark.
She knew the storm could unstitch it, pluck it hair from artificial hair, knew better choices hung from the closet’s thick collarbone.
She only feared things others fell into without thought: things housed by the human body, things that house bodies.
She knew the awful truth. The hair and nails don’t grow after death: the skin recedes.

Karen Locascio is an MFA candidate in poetry at the University of Massachusetts-Boston. Her work has appeared in Rufous City Review, Breakwater Review and Amethyst Arsenic. Karen loves Boston and calls it home but will always be a Jersey Girl at heart.
                                                                                                                                                               

Your Down Pillow wants to Start a Prickly War

It retains its feisty, bird-like ways. It clucks from the pillowcase, pecks me from your side of the bed. A high thread count case can?t hide a grizzled pillow. You suggest an explanation: you owned the pillow so long, all that?s left is feather shafts. I don?t listen to the person making excuses for their dangerous pillow. It is full of dead geese, ducks, a few mice. I feel bones, claws. A mouse paw protrudes like a baby?s foot pushing an imprint on its mother?s belly. I don?t comprehend pillow nostalgia. Your nightly penance. My own vegetarian pillow is a pacifist. The buckweat husks inside are so devoted, they maintain their shape so they are prepared when my head returns. It never squeaks. I draw a line down the center of the bed but the pillow trespasses overnight: my shoulders scratch-striped. When I flick on the lights, it looks like just a pillow, too deflated to feel so lumpy and full. I tear its fabric and everything inside limps away. The remaining feathers resemble filthy mimosa blossoms.
Valerie Loveland is the author of Reanimated, Somehow (Scrambler Books, 2009). Her poetry has been featured in Dzanc Book's anthology Best of the Web 2008 and The Massachusetts Poetry Festival. She enjoys running, listening to audio poetry and works as an optician in Action, Massachusetts

                                                                                                                                                             

Days Gone By

Gentle the breeze that floats the air across the years it moves my soul Words so sweet, so gentle, and clear melodies of love that took their toll
A face from my past gazed at me I had met these eyes once before I recognized this sweet beauty from far off to the distant door
Dropping by when I am weakest lighting mysteries upon my breast Playing melodies of love's heart feeding the memories of my chest
I remember those laughing eyes that had once stared back at me No less the beauty decades since in her face that child I could see
Aloof and careless with herself walking high upon nature’s wine She poured her beauty on my soul no woman was ever so fine.
But oh the times of yesteryear how they tasted divine like bliss My mind a-wash in thoughts of her longed for the first touch and kiss
Time seemed to have passed but moments yet many years had seen much joy At the time I felt most a man I wished I were still a young boy

Tate Morgan is a product of the Midwest. He is a poet by nature. Compelled through a life time of experience to give voice to our existence. To honor the struggle. Not the reward. Hopefully to see something of note. The reason why we were born. To look for our place in this universe. Pointing to the sign posts up ahead. Leaving bread crumbs for others to follow. In the hopes that we can be remembered as special
                                                                                                                                                         

Class is in Session

When I noticed that you were looking for someone that inspires the community I instantly thought of Christopher Belin. He is the sole proprietor of the Chris Belin’s Drum School as well as being a professional drummer. I have had the opportunity to know him for several years. Since then I have noticed how Chris has impacted the community with his drumming and teaching skills. I interviewed him and here is what he had to say:
If there was one thing you wanted people to know about your business…what would it be?
As a teacher, I’m committed to developing an individualized curriculum for each student, based on their interests & goals, to ensure their aspirations of being a drummer become reality. As a freelance drummer, I give 110% all the time. Every note I play is done with heart, portraying my deep love for music.
How do you feel your business has impacted the community?
Thus far I feel the Traveling Drum School has had an extremely positive impact on the community. No matter what, my teaching approach is always positive and encouraging. It’s gratifying to see students convey the same or similar philosophies in their playing & attitudes.
Many students have been able to perform in the areas where they reside, whether it’s a school band program or their own bands. Some have even had the opportunity to tour and post drum clips on the internet, showcasing their skills on a more global level.
Lastly, what is your future endeavors in the business?
My goals are always to take my business to the next level, keep growing and evolving with the times. Teaching more diverse students, releasing instructional books, and performing with more bands/ solo artists are goals I continue aspiring to achieve.
For more information on Chris and his Traveling Drum School check out his website www.chrisbelindrums.com. He will also be releasing a book in 2013.
Interview done by Natalie Sebula. Natalie holds an Associates degree in Specialized Technology Le Cordon Bleu Pastry Arts. Natalie is currently working on getting her Bachelor’s Degree in Pre-Clinical Diatetics/Nutrition at the University of Pittsburgh.