poetry | Page 7 | Danika Dinsmore

Hi! Welcome.

Thanks for stopping by. Please introduce yourself. Take a look around… It’s still under construction, so watch your step.

Feel free to bring anything you’d like… food, wine, song, dance…

You can participate simply by clicking on the comment link above and adding yourself to the mix.

First thing, before you go any further, we need to set the tone of this party right off the bat. (well, the tone for this hour at least, it could change)

To cross the threshold, you must play this video: FLIP OUT LIKE A NINJA

AND NO CHEATING… you must play the entire video and get off your butt and flip out. Come on, you know you want to (if Mickey is reading this, I especially mean you).

So, Danika, that was fun. What about these door prizes?

Here’s how it works. Your name goes into a drawing for adding something to the party. Send us something, a recipe, a link to a great website/blog/video, a poem, a cocktail mix, a page from your 6th grade diary, a photo of your disapproving cat…

Your name also goes into the drawing for each person you bring to the party. All the person has to do is tell us you sent them. Only bring fun people and no fair pretending to be someone sent by you. The bad karma faerie will punish you.

Your name also goes into the drawing for adding a line to the collaborative blogwarming poem. The first line is below. You must add a line to it, then the next person adds another line, etc. Make sure the whole poem is posted in your comment. At 8 pm, I’ll write the final line (and submit it to qarrtsiluni for their collaboration edition, even though it’s past the deadline).

I will start at mid-point

As we are in the middle of renovations, Baby is downstairs cursing about something and may turn off the electricity at certain points during the party. So if I have to step out, continue without me. I trust you all unsupervised.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:30 – time to shake things up again.

About a year ago I was chatting with a homeless poet who told me about Sister Rosetta Tharpe. Actually, what he really said to me was:

Rosetta Tharpe up above my head
you tube video I hear music in the air
Sister Rosetta Tharpe blues singer
down by the riverside Manchester City
1963 all the punk ass teenagers
John Lenon mentions her in his song Get Back
up above my head and from there
serenity springs grainy black and white
the choir comes in black boys and girls
you know the scene Rosetta’s got an
electric guitar and I never been
the same since

Watch the VIDEO – it’s FANTASTIC

Dropped Pages is a series of poems that were originally dropped from my books and chapbooks. I have reclaimed them here.

left out of Her Red Book

On the Day of Silhouettes

Out the train window she sees cut-outs
mountains gulls
Man in rowboat fishing water like
something one can touch but not hold
defiantly
on the still lake she hears
the word “moon” from a child’s lips
and there it is
she practices looking w/out
naming now that love has surprised her
once again
she goes to church and sings
grateful for the roundness
of the choir

she picks this future
a calm fortress against the long hours of drive
ambition
the release tastes like a careless trip
honey

sunsets always remind her of sunsets
they replace each other that way
like the speed of conversation
between black cut-outs
kisses on the neck

preoccupied with the fragile
blood vein and the question of what is real
she stands guard beyond expectation
a kind of cross-check
like a night-light
like a raincoat

ride the train. it will vibrate your bum.

Blogwarming! Welcome and Appies (and how do I win a door prize?)

Poetry Train – Dropped Pages – On the Day of Silhouettes