Wednesday, June 15, 2016
New Poem - Beowulf
Hey.
Here's a new (well, new for non-Patreon folk) poem.
BEOWULF
The chaos
of the writhing present
is this:
No shadow exists.
Any meter of action,
Whether mired in global friction
Or scrawled inside some antiseptic suburb
Or grunted out
In a airless tradition-territorial,
Will be inhaled.
A limbic frenzy of response will follow.
The object, the analysis of the object,
The rebuttal of the analysis of the object.
It is a beautiful chaos.
Frightened as we are,
We are humbled by the exalted
Equivocation
Each message, each suspicion-speech
Brings.
The past yields no prism of conjecture.
Rather, the most aggressive narrative
Sticks like pitch,
Like ancestral scars .
Grendel was a monster.
Beowulf, his slayer-savior.
So says the tale.
We nod sagely,
For the writers, the orators
Are honorable men.
Yet silhouetted, faintly,
In that puckered scrawl,
(a hagiography made binding
by a millennium of preservation)
Are unwritten details
Which, if said events unfurled
This present time,
Would not rest in un-eddied
Night.
Who creeps
Into a house
of a grieving mother?
Who kills
A mother
Whose son you've grave-gifted
With her own blade?
Who defiles
The other,
And rather than own
Their brute sentence,
Seeks pity, seeks
Clemency, seeks
Weasel words?
The mask of art,
Kennings,
Cannot eke out sanctuary.
Your tousled hair
And gawky smile
Is not your true face.
Brock Turner.
Beowulf.
Be it
"twenty minutes
of action"
or
Grendel slandered as
"a man outlawed
for wickedness, he must await
the mighty judgement of God in his majesty"
It's pure Anglo-Saxon propaganda.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
New Poem - Tarahumara
Hey.
Here's a new (to non- Patreon patrons) donor poem. To get access to hundreds of content I've made, become a Patreon patron today! Just pennies a day...
TARAHUMARA
That is not
our name,
You clap,
Witnessing.
We are merely
Rarámuri -
"runners on foot".
There is no
Need
For praise.
Do you cheer
The sunrise for its
Steadfast work?
Or the simple turkey
For the food they make?
Once,
We were farmers, race -hunters.
Before Narcos.
Before their money.
Before the rain
Became
A writhing ghost.
Made fertile ground dust.
Our children
Were taken.
Not with weapons,
But with a false remedy
For a sick soul.
Soñaderos and their
Dream medicine
Replaced with money.
The young ones
Lift heavy packs
Of marijuana
And never return.
Swallowed
By the Estrados Unidos.
Our history,
Our huaraches,
Now covered
In drugs and mud
And blood-marked
Beasts.
Here's a new (to non- Patreon patrons) donor poem. To get access to hundreds of content I've made, become a Patreon patron today! Just pennies a day...
TARAHUMARA
That is not
our name,
You clap,
Witnessing.
We are merely
Rarámuri -
"runners on foot".
There is no
Need
For praise.
Do you cheer
The sunrise for its
Steadfast work?
Or the simple turkey
For the food they make?
Once,
We were farmers, race -hunters.
Before Narcos.
Before their money.
Before the rain
Became
A writhing ghost.
Made fertile ground dust.
Our children
Were taken.
Not with weapons,
But with a false remedy
For a sick soul.
Soñaderos and their
Dream medicine
Replaced with money.
The young ones
Lift heavy packs
Of marijuana
And never return.
Swallowed
By the Estrados Unidos.
Our history,
Our huaraches,
Now covered
In drugs and mud
And blood-marked
Beasts.
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
New Poem - Praying Mantis
Hey.
Here's Amy's (the newest Patron who's taken part in the Patreon Pledge Drive ) poem.
To become a Patron for pennies a day (and to receive all kinds of creative wonders, just click below
today!
www.patreon.com/jara
PRAYING MANTIS
There's just
One mating cycle
A single episode
Where life must tear itself
Away
From the ticking clock
And
If she's starved
If her rutting
Male's too small,
Too trusting,
If he overstays a coital welcome,
She'll size him up
Before, during, or after
Sperm's delivered.
She'll cradle his head,
Facing him,
And with her teeth,
Wrest neck from body.
He'll spasm, limp.
If he's inside her,
His abdomen will pump
Faster - just for a moment,
Sending signals - life, further
Into her flush, extricated
Body.
Having come and shuttered,
He lies, inert, as she savors
Her fresh,
Restorative meal.
She simply
Must feed.
Here's Amy's (the newest Patron who's taken part in the Patreon Pledge Drive ) poem.
To become a Patron for pennies a day (and to receive all kinds of creative wonders, just click below
today!
www.patreon.com/jara
PRAYING MANTIS
There's just
One mating cycle
A single episode
Where life must tear itself
Away
From the ticking clock
And
If she's starved
If her rutting
Male's too small,
Too trusting,
If he overstays a coital welcome,
She'll size him up
Before, during, or after
Sperm's delivered.
She'll cradle his head,
Facing him,
And with her teeth,
Wrest neck from body.
He'll spasm, limp.
If he's inside her,
His abdomen will pump
Faster - just for a moment,
Sending signals - life, further
Into her flush, extricated
Body.
Having come and shuttered,
He lies, inert, as she savors
Her fresh,
Restorative meal.
She simply
Must feed.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Patreon Pledge Drive - Acquiring New Tools
Hey.
Today's Patreon Free Fare Friday's an immense one: an audio performance track of GHOST ON A STICK . If you've got 91 minutes of free time, it's an intense treat. Opening music is Playing House - a song of mine, and closing music is "Porcelain", a gorgeous piano piece by Helen Jane Long Between that's a semi-autobiographical tale of fear, mental health issues, and loss. .
Plus, starting NOW until the end of May, I'm embarking on a Patreon pledge drive. For over a year now, I've been posting unique, curated artistic content - essays, stories, songs, behind the scenes work in process - question and answer video, poems, and more!
Here's the goal of this pledge drive: I want to expand the community of artists sharing work and comments on the site. I also want to upgrade my personal computer from a desktop so old it no longer accepts antiviral support due to chugging along in Window XP (a PC that was gifted to me almost 8 years ago from my buddy Alan Corcoran, who entered my apartment, saw my prior hunk of junk, turned around without saying a word, and returned with a spare computer on hand)
I'm looking for something portable, something I can use to record audio for voice over work, songs. Something I can use to edit and polish videos I make. I want to bump up the production value for my Patreon work/acting endeavors.
So I'm looking at this : That means, along with socking away $100 each month in savings, I'm looking to increase funds with new donors (as well as possibly old donors bumping up their pledges)
There's different perks available for specific patron levels - plus, here's a special promotional gift:
No matter what level of donation (either new or an increase to an old pledge), I'll make you a personalized poem based on one word of your choosing. Here's some examples!
HONEYSUCKLE
EXODUS
FRIENDSHIP
YOU CAN GET HUNDREDS OF CONTENT (almost 400 things) FOR AS LOW AS A BUCK A MONTH!!
I'll stop screaming. It's been over an exciting year of stuff-making, and I'd like you to be a part of this community. To view and become a patron, just click below:
Jara's Patreon
Love,
Jara
Today's Patreon Free Fare Friday's an immense one: an audio performance track of GHOST ON A STICK . If you've got 91 minutes of free time, it's an intense treat. Opening music is Playing House - a song of mine, and closing music is "Porcelain", a gorgeous piano piece by Helen Jane Long Between that's a semi-autobiographical tale of fear, mental health issues, and loss. .
Plus, starting NOW until the end of May, I'm embarking on a Patreon pledge drive. For over a year now, I've been posting unique, curated artistic content - essays, stories, songs, behind the scenes work in process - question and answer video, poems, and more!
Here's the goal of this pledge drive: I want to expand the community of artists sharing work and comments on the site. I also want to upgrade my personal computer from a desktop so old it no longer accepts antiviral support due to chugging along in Window XP (a PC that was gifted to me almost 8 years ago from my buddy Alan Corcoran, who entered my apartment, saw my prior hunk of junk, turned around without saying a word, and returned with a spare computer on hand)
I'm looking for something portable, something I can use to record audio for voice over work, songs. Something I can use to edit and polish videos I make. I want to bump up the production value for my Patreon work/acting endeavors.
So I'm looking at this : That means, along with socking away $100 each month in savings, I'm looking to increase funds with new donors (as well as possibly old donors bumping up their pledges)
There's different perks available for specific patron levels - plus, here's a special promotional gift:
No matter what level of donation (either new or an increase to an old pledge), I'll make you a personalized poem based on one word of your choosing. Here's some examples!
HONEYSUCKLE
EXODUS
FRIENDSHIP
YOU CAN GET HUNDREDS OF CONTENT (almost 400 things) FOR AS LOW AS A BUCK A MONTH!!
I'll stop screaming. It's been over an exciting year of stuff-making, and I'd like you to be a part of this community. To view and become a patron, just click below:
Jara's Patreon
Love,
Jara
Monday, March 28, 2016
New Poem - Honeysuckle
Hey.
Here's a new (for non-Patreon folk) poem. It's been over a year, and I'm still laying down daily creative murmurs for pennies on the dollar! Become a Patron today, and get early access!
HONEYSUCKLE
A concrete
Wall,
Unfettered,
Attracts no butterflies.
Yields no dewy, musk-melon scent.
The eye
Interrupts its focus, already bored
With the grainy, flat expanse.
But
Add some
Climbers,
Perfumed tourists
Not merely occupying
A space,
But wedding that fixture
To nature, to the synthesis
Of dual-fed time.
A permission
To surrender
Can be beautiful,
Can till color
And shy, minute majesty.
It is
My fondest wish
To live
En-gathered
With loving fragments.
Here's a new (for non-Patreon folk) poem. It's been over a year, and I'm still laying down daily creative murmurs for pennies on the dollar! Become a Patron today, and get early access!
HONEYSUCKLE
A concrete
Wall,
Unfettered,
Attracts no butterflies.
Yields no dewy, musk-melon scent.
The eye
Interrupts its focus, already bored
With the grainy, flat expanse.
But
Add some
Climbers,
Perfumed tourists
Not merely occupying
A space,
But wedding that fixture
To nature, to the synthesis
Of dual-fed time.
A permission
To surrender
Can be beautiful,
Can till color
And shy, minute majesty.
It is
My fondest wish
To live
En-gathered
With loving fragments.
Monday, February 1, 2016
Five Years Down.
Hey.
In writing, like in all messy, heartfelt things, the key is not to worry about the perfect beginning. Don't be so goddamn precious. Just start moving. You'll spend far too much time fretting about how precise the initial efforts should be instead of actually creating some ordinary, kinetic magic. Some lasting, positive change.
Your life's work.
When the time's right, it's vital to take stock of growth. To once again thank the tribe of loved ones all across this world who've supported me, shared their lives, and enjoyed my odes and nonsense.
So here I am, lapping coffee from a thermos, grazing from a bag of carrots and a tub of dry roasted almonds. Looking over the gratitude I've charted from 2012 to 2013 to 2014 to 2015.
Let's break it down. What I've done, what I've learned, and my upcoming goals:
- Don't be afraid to make friends with new artists. I know it's not like grade school anymore where the friend-making process comes easier. But if your buddy Robin tells you about this amazing singer-songwriter named Angie, don't think you'll be a creeper by going to check out her show and befriending her. She just might well rock your face off with her work and become a really wonderful friend as well. Take the risk.
- Don't be afraid to go a party where you don't know anyone but the host. Be willing to be uncomfortable and banter with the pretty woman with the hazel eyes.
- It's no fun being prayed to by a homeless man keyed up on heroin during the last two minutes of Romeo and Juliet when you're screaming the final monologue down upon him to snap him into silence.
- You can't control everything. Sometimes a homemade guitar's gonna be out of tune. It's live theatre. Sing out, Louise. Ghost the odd notes. Keep the story true.
GOALS
Here's three for this year (along with Self-Care, Self-Love, and Self-Respect, which are still paramount)
- Send Old Soldiers Home. There's still remnants, artifacts, scattered in my apartment, my mind. Past behaviors or items which once served a purpose. To protect me, or hide me. But the war's over. There's no need to fight, to struggle. Let's make some room. Clear out the old, baggy clothes. Learn that anger's a valuable, healing emotion, not just a precursor to abuse.
- Ask for more help. Across the board. There's many things I don't know how to do. Business related steps for acting. Mentorship. Fear creates ego. Time to be open and clear, make the ask.
- Have at least one feature film/TV audition - time to get serious about this. I'm losing weight. Feeling better. Focusing more on meeting casting directors who would hire character folk like me,
Thanks to the following people:
(in no particular order)
mi mama
Jelina Seibert and Dave Seibert
Jeric Jones and Stephanie Girard
Bekki Doster
Mark Kinch
James Cobb
Tess Suchoff
In writing, like in all messy, heartfelt things, the key is not to worry about the perfect beginning. Don't be so goddamn precious. Just start moving. You'll spend far too much time fretting about how precise the initial efforts should be instead of actually creating some ordinary, kinetic magic. Some lasting, positive change.
Your life's work.
When the time's right, it's vital to take stock of growth. To once again thank the tribe of loved ones all across this world who've supported me, shared their lives, and enjoyed my odes and nonsense.
So here I am, lapping coffee from a thermos, grazing from a bag of carrots and a tub of dry roasted almonds. Looking over the gratitude I've charted from 2012 to 2013 to 2014 to 2015.
Let's break it down. What I've done, what I've learned, and my upcoming goals:
WHAT I'VE DONE
Joined Actor's Equity - A super big deal for me. Been doing theatre professionally for over twenty years now, and being able to hold that card and audition for AEA shows puts a kindness in my heart.
Expanded KING OF THE HOBOS and produced a full-length version of the show - That's been the bulk of my efforts this year. Collaborating with Abigail to draft out a more character-driven, authentic piece with two new songs, to form my own production company in this town (Odes and Nonsense Productions) and to do an AEA showcase run of the one man musical. I'm extremely proud of the work we did. You can check out the complete soundtrack on iTunes and Bandcamp.
Joined Actor's Equity - A super big deal for me. Been doing theatre professionally for over twenty years now, and being able to hold that card and audition for AEA shows puts a kindness in my heart.
Expanded KING OF THE HOBOS and produced a full-length version of the show - That's been the bulk of my efforts this year. Collaborating with Abigail to draft out a more character-driven, authentic piece with two new songs, to form my own production company in this town (Odes and Nonsense Productions) and to do an AEA showcase run of the one man musical. I'm extremely proud of the work we did. You can check out the complete soundtrack on iTunes and Bandcamp.
Wrote five new songs - New music for King of the Hobos, a song for Alan about my last year in Orange County, a love song about color theory, and my most favorite song ever about dealing with lifelong depression (and gardening) .
Got to finally work with Joe Raik - Ever since I met him in the dead of night during a Facing Page Productions Company Marathon (where all of Shakespeare's plays are read over the course of several days, nonstop) I knew I had to collab with this wild-eyed, wonderful guy. Sure enough, he rang me up and gave me a chance to do so this year, playing the Prince for the wily Occupy Verona (street theatre versions of Romeo and Juliet) Met some wonderful, passionate people, and it was riches.
Posted daily artistic content on Patreon - Since March 2015, I've set up a paid account where I've shown up daily to give people songs, stories, poems, tales.
Posted daily artistic content on Patreon - Since March 2015, I've set up a paid account where I've shown up daily to give people songs, stories, poems, tales.
WHAT I'VE LEARNED
- Don't be afraid to make friends with new artists. I know it's not like grade school anymore where the friend-making process comes easier. But if your buddy Robin tells you about this amazing singer-songwriter named Angie, don't think you'll be a creeper by going to check out her show and befriending her. She just might well rock your face off with her work and become a really wonderful friend as well. Take the risk.
- Don't be afraid to go a party where you don't know anyone but the host. Be willing to be uncomfortable and banter with the pretty woman with the hazel eyes.
- It's no fun being prayed to by a homeless man keyed up on heroin during the last two minutes of Romeo and Juliet when you're screaming the final monologue down upon him to snap him into silence.
- You can't control everything. Sometimes a homemade guitar's gonna be out of tune. It's live theatre. Sing out, Louise. Ghost the odd notes. Keep the story true.
GOALS
Here's three for this year (along with Self-Care, Self-Love, and Self-Respect, which are still paramount)
- Send Old Soldiers Home. There's still remnants, artifacts, scattered in my apartment, my mind. Past behaviors or items which once served a purpose. To protect me, or hide me. But the war's over. There's no need to fight, to struggle. Let's make some room. Clear out the old, baggy clothes. Learn that anger's a valuable, healing emotion, not just a precursor to abuse.
- Ask for more help. Across the board. There's many things I don't know how to do. Business related steps for acting. Mentorship. Fear creates ego. Time to be open and clear, make the ask.
- Have at least one feature film/TV audition - time to get serious about this. I'm losing weight. Feeling better. Focusing more on meeting casting directors who would hire character folk like me,
Thanks to the following people:
(in no particular order)
mi mama
Jelina Seibert and Dave Seibert
Jeric Jones and Stephanie Girard
Bekki Doster
Mark Kinch
James Cobb
Tess Suchoff
Mageina Tovah
Anna Romero
Carlos Acosta
Michael Irish
Kevin Percival
Carole Ann Taylor - Tumilty
Molly Callahan
Jenn Litfin
Daniel Schwartz
Emily Travis
Ashlee Brown
Caitlin Brockell
Morgan Hooper
Bryn Carter
Ozwald James
Jim Petty
Shaun Peknic
Rebecca Robinson Overholt
Sam Lopresti
Ally Tully
Gary Lizardo
Lisa Kim
Bobby Lux
Anna Romero
Carlos Acosta
Michael Irish
Kevin Percival
Carole Ann Taylor - Tumilty
Molly Callahan
Jenn Litfin
Daniel Schwartz
Emily Travis
Ashlee Brown
Caitlin Brockell
Morgan Hooper
Bryn Carter
Ozwald James
Jim Petty
Shaun Peknic
Rebecca Robinson Overholt
Sam Lopresti
Ally Tully
Gary Lizardo
Lisa Kim
Bobby Lux
Patti Cox
Joe Raik
Mike Valloney
Megan Greener
Paula Eagleman
Stacey De Witt
Joe Raik
Mike Valloney
Megan Greener
Paula Eagleman
Stacey De Witt
Meredyth Kenney
Everett Goldner
The Occupy Verona cast and crew
The Occupy Verona cast and crew
Alan Corcoran
Angie Atkinson
Angie Atkinson
Robin Rightmyer
David Andrew Laws
Abigail Taylor-Sansom
Rockford Sansom
Abigail Taylor-Sansom
Rockford Sansom
Dianna Tucker Baritot
Adam Baritot
Vicki Mooney
Tony White
Vicki Oceguera
Tod Engle
Vicki Oceguera
Tod Engle
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Pink - First Draft of New Song
Hey.
January always feels like a cold cup of syrup being poured into my bones.
Makes me sluggish physically. Inside, the mind races, hungers for change.
Here's a new song about love and color theory. It's based on a somewhat controversial argument that's been touted on the internet about whether or not the color pink actually exists (or in fact, if any color truly exists beyond an interpretation in our brains)
lyrics
first verse
honey
were a pair
like a grin
and a glare
in the huddled musk
of dawn
i stare
you sleep
theres a blush
hidden flush of pink
and honey
im blue
green with envy
its true
seeing red instead
til the palettes leaden black
hearts gone slack
and i start to think
chorus
maybe were just
figments
simple pigments held together
by a lie
youre the racing violet
im the lumbering red
two steps behind
i try
and the space between
we call our love
were just like pink
second verse
im laying it bare
heart is medium rare
youre awake
and you share
as i shudder
weep
and sink
hand on mine
heading for the brink
you gently implore
keep your feet to the floor
reticent to explore
shoulder all your weight
inside
we confide
its absorbed like zinc
chorus
bridge
who named the rainbow
gave such significance
out of unkempt vibrations
truth that we dont know
stare in each others eyes
form a color
a shared delusion
maybe its all that matters though
be my playful guess
ill be your earnest
damask mink
our ministration
a tessellation
commingled pink
third verse
cotton candy
aint it dandy
fuschias a fine
ole time
champagne
its a party in your own brain
sip it
retort and slink
lets rejoice
that were
just
like
pink
compound
were ineffable bound
an agreement of sight and sound
transmissive
and a little bit derisive
tease me
ill tickle
breathe your wiles
dont blink
well compare
that effusive pink
chorus
maybe were just
figments
simple pigments held together
by a lie
youre the racing violet
im the lumbering red
two steps behind
i try
and the space between
we call our love
(our freckled love)
were just like pink
were just like pink
January always feels like a cold cup of syrup being poured into my bones.
Makes me sluggish physically. Inside, the mind races, hungers for change.
Here's a new song about love and color theory. It's based on a somewhat controversial argument that's been touted on the internet about whether or not the color pink actually exists (or in fact, if any color truly exists beyond an interpretation in our brains)
lyrics
first verse
honey
were a pair
like a grin
and a glare
in the huddled musk
of dawn
i stare
you sleep
theres a blush
hidden flush of pink
and honey
im blue
green with envy
its true
seeing red instead
til the palettes leaden black
hearts gone slack
and i start to think
chorus
maybe were just
figments
simple pigments held together
by a lie
youre the racing violet
im the lumbering red
two steps behind
i try
and the space between
we call our love
were just like pink
second verse
im laying it bare
heart is medium rare
youre awake
and you share
as i shudder
weep
and sink
hand on mine
heading for the brink
you gently implore
keep your feet to the floor
reticent to explore
shoulder all your weight
inside
we confide
its absorbed like zinc
chorus
bridge
who named the rainbow
gave such significance
out of unkempt vibrations
truth that we dont know
stare in each others eyes
form a color
a shared delusion
maybe its all that matters though
be my playful guess
ill be your earnest
damask mink
our ministration
a tessellation
commingled pink
third verse
cotton candy
aint it dandy
fuschias a fine
ole time
champagne
its a party in your own brain
sip it
retort and slink
lets rejoice
that were
just
like
pink
compound
were ineffable bound
an agreement of sight and sound
transmissive
and a little bit derisive
tease me
ill tickle
breathe your wiles
dont blink
well compare
that effusive pink
chorus
maybe were just
figments
simple pigments held together
by a lie
youre the racing violet
im the lumbering red
two steps behind
i try
and the space between
we call our love
(our freckled love)
were just like pink
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)