"Starting a landslide in my ego"

tomorrows acentos show will be the last one i will regularly host and my final bow as curator. let it be stated very clearly– this is all amicable. in fact, i hate using the word amicable. it is what is– its time for me to move on.

also for the record, this process actually started almost a year ago. right after the acentos 2nd anniversary jam, a hectic night where i tried going in a different direction and almost drove myself crazy doing it. in the end, the night was a success, everybody had a good time and we all were looking forward to version 3.0 but i was imagining an acentos without me around.

for the last three years i have been draconian with my vision regarding the series. through many debates i stayed true to that vision and made it come to pass but it wasnt all chocolate & marzipan.* along the way i have made a ton of mistakes and a (well earned) reputation as a poetic snob. this rep has resulted in one full fledged enemy and one artist who i would never endorse under any circumstances. all in all, not a bad record.

back to an oscar-less acentos, i was starting to ponder a vision other than mine at the helm, which new voices would come through, what would the new aesthetic be and you know what– i had no clue. a thought that really excited me, that and the idea that acentos was not just a poetry reading but an actual movement. a movement that viewed the nuyoricans as predecessors but not so entrenched in their history as to repeat their mistakes which was not leaving a real legacy. the cafe is not the mecca of latino poetry and there are very few poets from that era that put themselves out as mentors. instead they just throw the title of “new nuyorican poet” to anyone who will kowtow to their past accomplishments. all this led to a dearth of latino poetry when i got into the scene in 2001 and led to my formation of acentos.

after running through it in my own head for a minute, i reached out to a few friends both in and out of the poetry world and told them about my desire to step aside. of course they were wondering if i was burnt out or pissed or something dramatic but when i explained to them that it was none of the above, that i felt it was best to step away and refresh myself rather than get stuck in a groove, they began to understand. more than anything, i was running these ideas by them because i needed other ways to look at this decision and more and more i was liking it.

it all came to a head when we came back from the national poetry slam and had a kick ass show with minimal turnout. the night was a recipe for disaster but ended with me feeling really good about everything in my life. with the four of us casually hanging around a table, i decided to let jess, rich & fish know that come the end of the year i was done with hosting & curating. some good dialogue followed and they convinced me to stay till the anniversary show which was fine with me.

a common question was “so whats next?” at the time i didnt have an answer. all i knew was that the time felt right to make a change for both acentos and me. three days after telling the acentos crew my decision, barb came to the cornelia street feature and the rest is history.

tomorrow is going to be my last time announcing the open mic. a mic which has brought some wonderful poetry and amazing friends into my life and thats what im gonna miss most, the excitement in seeing a new name on that list and getting ready to listen for something in the work. its not always a full blown poem, sometimes its just a single line or sometimes its just the desire to find a good line but every once in a while there will be something good to listen to and ima miss that. ima miss being a jackass on stage. ima miss cursin up a storm. ima miss quoting epic movie lines. ima miss sayin dumb shit in an effort to keep the night hoppin. ima miss subtelty dissing some trite, insipid, overwrought verse. ima miss makin a private joke with someone in the back and then repeating it in front of everyone. ima miss the blue ox/the bruckner pool room/the bruckner theater. ima miss acentos. and i hope that all of you who have supported it these last three years keep coming through and making it an event so that i can get the occasional email or read through the acentos announcements (plug it babee!) and say… “damn, im sorry i missed that”

In the world I left behind
Wipe their eyes, and then let go
To the world I left behind
Shed a tear, and then let go
– U2’s “A Day Without Me

"Some days are sulky, some days have a grin "

the comments on ron silliman’s blog concerning poet en sf have been eating away at me for the last few days.

lets start with my thoughts on the actual review– while it did show some good insight and in the end it endorsed the book, i felt that i had to read through way too much of silliman’s past dealings with the city of san francisco to reach those insights. in fact, if i had just stopped at the blurb that bella put on her blog i would have been just fine. but no. my silly internet stalking ass just had to peek at the comments section cuz i was hoping for some type of intellectual discourse regarding poetics in general, and poeta en sf in particular.

instead i have to read some of the most offensive shit i have ever seen attempt to pass itself off as poetic dialogue. am i pissed? hell yeah. but then here we go back to this male power dynamic where my initial response is to stand in front of someone and offer them the chance to test my resolve.

now, do i have to be the big bad bully for poeta en sf? no, barb can do that quite well on her own. she is as bad ass as anyone i know and can stand next to me in a fight anyday but do i want to come in and act like the raging.pissed.husband? nope. internet flame wars have never been my style. its just like yelling from a moving car. very brave in the eyes of the yeller but little more than piss in the wind.

ive only had a few comments on this blog that would be considered disrespectful and that would be a real stretch to call em that but the shit goin down on sillimans blog is way past disrespectful, its in the “ah no… thats a fight on my block” territory. and again, i have no desire to go in and engage any of these people in the stomping ground of someones blog comment section. if they were in front of me, i would love to attempt (keyword) to speak to them on their initial concerns regarding the poem (one singular selection of poeta as opposed to the entire book length poem) and any other poetic concerns. i would not, under any circumstances, try to discourse on the racial issues they have embedded in their DNA cuz that shit is just a waste of time.
lets agree- that we cant disagree.
i grew up where i grew up looking like a look (this LOOK, by the way, is no response to any imagined trend in americana, its how i was fuckin born) and you grew up where you grew up looking like you look. i aint tryin to jump on some reality show tip and have us switch roles or sum shit like dat.

again, if you are keeping score at home, i am completely fcuckin biased here. but, i can still talk poetics if ya like. they may not have years of blog commentary experience behind them but i still have a damn good poetic ear and can go with anyone at anytime when it comes to this particular subject.

and there it is. i am waiting with bated breath for someone to have serious issues with the poetics behind poeta en sf. as of yet, this opinion has not raised itself in any public internet forum that i am aware of. and why am i waiting so anxiously for this “negative” review.
so i can get all king kong and pound my chest on this reviewers web site? no
its so that i can view barbs work from a fresh angle and when i look at her newer poems i can approach them from a new angle and with valid poetic concerns.

and thats it y’all. in case any of you are interested, the link to the review and the comments (which includes sexist garbage, the typical racist bs and some folks actually trying to discuss the poetic measure of the book -gasp!-) can be found here

currently, its pretty late but thats cuz i have spent most of the night setting up a friend website. my first full design, thank you very much. and i have also been putting together a tribute site for a poet who recently passed away. more soon on both but i just wanted to drop that in cuz i refuse to let some phantom fuckers whose opinions exist solely on someone elses popup box keep me from doing what i do best which is being a good friend, an ever evolving poet and a supportive, loving husband.

Some days you hear a voice
Taking you to another place
Some days are better than others

amen to that y’all. amen and hallelujah…

cuz today is going to be a postive day

(even if i have to put in the crippler crossface to make it so)

bad news: i am out of the running for the andres montoya prize
good news: raina león is a finalist! feel free to drop a congratulatory note on her blog

fun google search for today– paging damn skippy!

and i leave you a picture of desire, despair, delirium, dream, death, destiny & destruction which is to say that even the endless can be made to look all kinds of teddy ruxpin


also in the spirit of laughter- i sent lynne this pic earlier in the week saying that its the first proof of the louderARTS group pic ;-)

next synonymUS

synonymUS – The Nuyorican Poets Café
Wednesday, March 15th @ 7pm
featuring R.A. Villanueva
performing excerpts from And for all these tragedies

And for all these tragedies, a newly conceived arrangement of verse and original music that weaves together images of family, questions of social/cultural/professional identity, and the narratives that inspire one writer to write. An evolving “aural chapbook,” it seeks to explore the personal experiences that feed the making of poems, the singing of songs.
Sample Track: Bones

synonymUS • Collaborative Open Form@
Open Form@ sign up 6:45pm
Music, Movement, Image, Narrative – always an Open Mic

The Nuyorican Poets Café
236 East Third St (bet Aves B & C)
F Train to 2nd Ave
$7 Cover

synonymus at louderarts dot com