June 1999 | Café Society's Poetry News Update |
| Rick Lupert has been involved in the Los Angeles poetry community
since 1990. He was recently made a co-director of the Valley
Contemporary Poets, a 19 year old non-profit organization which
produces regular reading series and publications out of the San
Fernando Valley. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in
numerous magazines and literary journals, including The Los Angeles
Times, Chiron Review, Zuzu's Petals, Caffeine Magazine, Blue
Satellite and others. He is the author of five books. Paris: It's The
Cheese, I Am My Own Orange County (Ain't Got No Press), Lizard King
of the Laundromat (Inevitable Press), I'm a Jew, Are You? (Ain't Got
No Press) and most recently Mowing Fargo (Sacred Beverage Press). He
has hosted the long running Cobalt Cafe reading series for five years
now and is regularly featured at venues throughout Southern
California. Rick created and maintains the Poetry Super Highway, a
major internet resource for online poets. Currently Rick works as a music teacher at several Los Angeles area synagogues. |
Poetry L & T: | When and why did you first start writing poetry, Rick? |
Rick Lupert: |
In 1990. Though I did have an acrostic poem published in an
anthology when I was in elementary school by a group of visiting
poets who did workshops with the English Classes:
Pig |
Poetry L & T: | On your website, you say that Hot Water Press were the first publishers to use your work. Did you find that the first publisher made it easier to approach other publishers, later? |
Rick Lupert: | It wasn't really easier to approach different publishers as if they're not familiar with your work, it becomes very much like your first time approaching anyone. I suppose there is a little bit more confidence one has when one is able to list previous publication credits in a letter to a publisher, but ultimately it comes down to whether or not the new publisher likes your work or not. I think a good publisher / editor doesn't really concern herself with a poets previous publication credits. |
Poetry L & T: | I enjoyed your poems on the Lupert website. You use an entertaining, sharp wit, often with a serious underlying message. How did you arrive at this style? |
Rick Lupert: | It's the style I most enjoy reading so it was natural to fall into it
when developing my own style. More specifically, my exposure to very
silly and entertaining books by Douglas Adams (Hitchhikers Guide to
the Galaxy etc...) Monty Python and the humorous, absurd and surreal
writings of Richard Brautigan greatly influenced my writing. I'm not
sure how the serious underlying messages got in there. I suppose
they are just reflections of my own opinions and ideas and as my
writing style has progressed I've been able to stray away from
exclusively silly and humorous material with a confidence that has
allowed me to incorporate these opinions and ideas into the work. I think we are all products of the things we encounter. After I've been reading work by a particular author, tend to incorporate aspects of their style into my own work which leads for me, to a constantly evolving style. |
Poetry L & T: | I found your RealAudio reading "Pork Pizza" amusing. Did you use a particular sound studio program to layer the three sounds (your voice, the guitar and the sound effects)? |
Rick Lupert: | I recorded this using the Plain Talk microphone that comes standard with the Macintosh. (Hardly studio quality) I used a shareware program (possibly Sound Studio) which I downloaded from the InfoMac software archive...not sure which one because I had several sound programs at the time and since then lost them all to a hard drive crash. Anyway, it was one which allowed the mixing and editing of different tracks all onscreen. |
Poetry L & T: | In what ways do you feel that being Jewish influences your work? |
Rick Lupert: | I think that all ones experiences and identity influences everything we do. I write about my experiences. I spend a lot of time having Jewish experiences and so naturally much of this shows in poems. (I work as a music teacher at a synagogue in Northridge, CA) |
Poetry L & T: | In the religious references in your poems, you are sometimes anarchic and controversial. Does this ever get you into trouble in more orthodox circles, or with your family? |
Rick Lupert: | Yes. I have been accused of being sophomoric, and inaccurately representing the Jewish people. It is not my goal to be an emissary of Jews in my work, I write from my own experiences and observations. I guess some of my work isn't for everyone. The very same pieces which have been negatively critiqued by some have been positively praised by others. Sometimes I feel like a misunderstood artist, or dare I say...Job. |
Poetry L & T: | How did you first get the idea for The Poetry Super Highway? |
Rick Lupert: | It seemed to me, when I was creating my website, that the key way to get people to visit my site was to create a reason for people to come back to it...changing content. So I figured the best way to do this was to feature the work of other people...it started as a small section of links to other poetry sites...and featuring one poet a week. Soon this section of the site grew and began to take on it's own identity...It went from just a reason to create traffic to my personal pages to a publication and resource of it's own. Since then I've sincerely tried to make it one of the most comprehensive resources for poets on the web as well as featuring the most diverse selections of the best poetry I receive from all over the world. |
Poetry L & T: | Is it sometimes difficult to organize your time, while you are compiling your weekly PSH newsletters (it seems a lot of work to bring it out weekly)? |
Rick Lupert: | I have it down to a science...well, ok, not a science...I have it down to a system. I do most of the work on Sunday afternoons. The templates are already created so it's just a matter of plugging in the new information. I also spend time on Fridays reviewing the poetry submitted during the week and responding to it. If I spent time every day working on it, I think it would be difficult, but I hold off on everything to these two time periods...it goes quicker that way. |
Poetry L & T: | Have you ever had to refuse a poetry link because of offensive or poorly-written material? |
Rick Lupert: | No. The only qualification to receive a link on the PSH is that the site is in some way related to poetry / writing. Sites with offensive or poorly written material will thrive or perish on their own merits. |
Poetry L & T: | Who are your favourite well-known poets, and why? |
Rick Lupert: | Richard Brautigan: His absurd, funny, and surreal writings have
always been my favorite. He language is accessible. It's
entertaining. It goes in directions one doesn't expect. I wish he
didn't off himself 15 years ago because I would love to have read all
the things he never got to write. My favorite line of poetry comes from Whitman's Leaves of Grass.
"Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origins of all poems." I say this to every woman I meet. The one who understands, I'll marry. I also very much enjoy the works of many modern lesser known, though still accomplished writers, such as Jeffrey McDaniel, Ellyn Maybe, Matthew Niblock, Gerald Locklin, Ron Koertge, Brendan Constantine and lots more. |
Poetry L & T: | Do you have an ideal setting in which to write poetry (mine is in cafes)? |
Rick Lupert: | There's a cafe on Ventura Boulevard in Studio City, CA (just another neighborhood in Los Angeles) called Lulu's Beehive. I like to write there. There's always free entertainment. Good food. Friendly people. They knew my name after I hadn't been in the place after a year...and there's bumble bees painted on the floor. |
Poetry L & T: | Finally, Rick, what advice would you give to anyone reading this, who would like to have their work published one day? |
Rick Lupert: | For quality of writing: Constantly write. Always immerse yourself in
the work of other poets. For getting published: Go to poetry readings. Read your poetry at them. Send work out on a regular basis. Send to magazines (online/print) which publish poetry that you like to read. Send back to the same publications even if you've been rejected. Read submission guidelines carefully and follow them exactly. Understand that every publisher receives much more work than they could possibly publish in their lifetime. Go to workshops. Meet people. Publish it yourself. Three of my books are self published and they've made more money than I would have made with a 'deal' from a publisher. |
Poetry L & T: | Thanks for the interview, Rick. |
POEMS BY RICK LUPERT
Today at lunch I was God.
I won a green rubber snake at a carnival
You are art incarnate
The Lone Mosher
The Lone Mosher
The Lone mosher
The Lone Mosher
I want there to be a hair shop
Venice Beach
I find the sunglasses booth
A trip to Venice is not complete without a slice of Venice Pizza.
I continue walking
I finish the Pizza
Realizing I had no guts I went down to the guts store to buy me some.
Breasts attract me
Your unexpected lips
| |
Dear Poets, This issue features an interview with poet Rick Lupert, who runs the Poetry Super Highway website and newsletter. Poets with new websites or new features on their sites can email him with brief details and the URL, and he will put the links in his next newsletter. See the interview for his email address.
|
The details of the latest Capricorn International Poetry and Short Story Competition 1999 are also featured. Poets outside of the UK who are interested - email me within the first week of June and I will write to Deborah Tutton for details of how to enter the competition from outside the UK. The theme for this month's poetry section is "Mystery". Many thanks to all who sent in their work. I have enjoyed reading all the submissions. Any comments on this issue or back issues can be emailed to me on the link at the bottom of the page. Best Regards, |
CLOSING DATE: 1 July 1999
THEME: An original Poem/Short Story. No restriction to style or length.
ENTRY FEE: £3.00 per poem/story, £1.00 for 4th poem/story and beyond
Ist PRIZE: (each category) £100 and publication in an Anthology.
2nd & 3rd PRIZES (each category): publication in an anthology
PLUS: Three additional runners-up prizes of publication in an anthology in the Poetry category.
No entry form required. All entries should be titled, but not bear the author's name. They may be typed or hand-written provided they are legible. Please keep copies and send your entries with a separate list of titles and the author's name and address to:
The Capricorn International Poetry/Short Story Competition,
Entries can only be returned when reply postage and an envelope are provided. Entries from outside UK: see also Editor's letter for more details.
I asked some poets to come up with poems on this theme and the results brought some very diverse interpretations...
Non-expendable
were man to feed on fruit
a spectre in the spectacle!
TRANSCIENCE
We travel in a cube with invisible walls
At what price the expansion of consciousness,
THE HIGHER SELF
We live beneath a blowing stream
Yet, there are times that melody
An endless rush it is, without incipience
Just so, another mystery is ours,
CATFISH (STEVE ROUSE) is a member of the Manchester (England) - based poetry group called The Monday Night Group in Manchester, England. He's quite active on the local poetry scene and has
been published by Crocus and the AK Press, amongst others. He
writes about anything which comes to mind and has been accused
of being experimental, which he confirms or denies as the occasion
demands. A regular on alt.arts.poetry.comments, he has been busy lately, away from the newsgroup. So I wrote to him asking if he would like to contribute to this mont's poetry section, and he kindly agreed. Of the first poem, "bela's hand", he says: "This poem refers to the classic photograph
of Bela Lugosi as Count Dracula, descending
the stairs of his castle."
Bela looks unsure, tentative.
Perhaps he’s afraid, he looks at me
Maybe he detects my handedness,
Or it might be a gesture, a sign,
a more precise death
Someone’s done a “join the dots” on JFK,
People thought they knew where they were,
At seventy-seven cents a second,
But History calls me on the telephone,
History asks if a computer is more objective
JERRY JENKINS
I saw my father as the winter faded.
Each waited for the other one to waver
We circled as two wolves about to duel,
Well he taught, and well I learned them from him.
SPRITES
I saw them for the first time as a child.
Flyers claim they see them near the wingtips,
One blistering sultry summer in the bedroom,
I saw them in the phosphorescent glow
They lit the jungled nights of Vietnam.
JAN SAND,
poet and illustrator from New York, is a regular contributor to Poetry Life & Times. and the newsgroup alt.arts.poetry.comments. A great deal of his work is about animals, or science fiction.
To see more of Jan's poem and illustrations, visit the November '98 issue of Poetry Life & Times, and scroll down past the Editor's Letter.
To look back
STARSTUCK
The robots we send out these days
The glories of the galaxies,
The zips and units come in trains
Down the data rains, like dust,
We don't know what we know because
Thank you so much for including me in your fine May issue! The link works
wonderfully and I look forward to contest entries from your readers.
Best,
Katja
Back Issues of POETRY LIFE & TIMES:
Mail me on: pinky@redcity.demon.co.uk
with any poems, comments for the letters page, news about your poetry site, or forthcoming poetry events.
17 West Lea Road,
Weston,
Bath BA1 3RL,
United Kingdom
ROBERT DEAN LUDDENhas worked as a teacher, a radio and television announcer, and
a pipe organ technician. He is a graduate of Hamline University, St. Paul,
Minnesota, and lives presently semi-retired, in Northern Illinois. He is also a regular contributor on the email-based newsgroup AYLAD, and has been feaured on various websies including my Café Society's Guest Poets page. Visit his website on: http://www.essex1.com/people/ludden/Rindex.htmlTHE MYSTIQUE OF MYSTERY
© Robert Dean Ludden
for if the search be at an end
reduced to mud and ashes,
so passes any matrix of delight
so made of all beginning
and so much the child
of all finality
impervious to seed and sun
or cavalier with first and final causes
any deity would do
and could there be a call?
a spectrum in a speculum?
a tiny grain of reason
striving for the light?
well prepared to serve as death,
an apparition so contrived
would greet the dawn of revelation
as a friend
before it shrivels
as the drying dew
beneath a tired sun
and knowing rises
evanescent as it must
or all is lost
© Robert Dean Ludden
On a journey without end or beginning...
Our six-sided perception of reality importunate,
Yet, tempered in mystery before the reach within
...and that a temperament unlimited.
And by what instigation?
Forced to slip upon our own matrix of desire,
As fools with fists of open air,
And mouths to beg an enemy to fight.
How then to seek, or gain, or rest?
...or even to create!
What folly our scheme of time.
Ours indeed, and we its prisoner.
So join with me
in cosmic intercourse.
The way is as clear as the will.
The climax...eternal.
© Robert Dean Ludden
To which our consciousness pays tribute
Now and then, and sings a rhapsody
Which always trails off
To some oblivion, self-made perhaps,
Recovered in a dream, or
Scrawled on tissue, and
Performed again
by weak-eyed songsters,
apathetic to the vision
mothering its birth.
Will sing itself, and bound around
This drama of our sojourn here,
To fit the niche carved out by forces scarce defined
By you or me, or God, for all we know.
The song is truly ours,
A cosmic bank account,
Backed by credits we could never store.
Ours alone to use,
(Not always when we will).
But we can cock our heads and listen more.
To sense the riches there!!
- Aligned toward some unknown cynosure.
And I would breathe a prayer of thanks
For high adventure, nothing less,
And celebrate this spirit hurricane
With shouts of jubilance.... and awe.
And mystics we become as by default.
Would we be gods?
No better course there is for any man
than standing by in conscious readiness
to feel upon his face this wind...
This personal resource no other man can sense
Or ever understand...
This mighty Breath of God.
catfish (Steve Rouse)bela’s hand
© catfish (steve rouse)
Though he holds the candle
confidently, his left hand dances
to the left and he’s on the back foot.
as if I might be one of him, not only
hunger in his eyes but a sense
that he dares not hope too soon.
pre-empts a run to the right. There’s
camp in his hand, but a pointedness
that talks of needles and claws.
he might be about to hug me,
throw down the candle, apologise
for the cobwebs, welcome me home.
© catfish (steve rouse)
removed the grain from history,
made our memories less clear,
turned our legends into “facts”.
only now they’re not so sure.
For under twenty dollars, they can buy
a death, more accurate than before.
the head explodes again and slumps,
and you can see his brains more clearly
in the heat of the dumb Dallas sun.
tells me Zapruder had his back to the knoll,
that bullets’ trajectories are smears
in the memories of their careful owners.
or informed than the Warren Commission.
Perhaps it has fewer axes to sharpen, wield, wipe,
and lock away in velvet cases, I reply.
jerry_h_jenkins@csi.com
has been writing poetry since 1993. He is a member of the Academy of American Poets and the
Science Fiction Poetry Association, where his poetry has
been nominated for the Association's Rhysling Award. His
poetry has won numerous awards in individual and chapbook
competitions, and has appeared in printed publications and
anthologies such as The Formalist, The Lyric, Mobius,
Echoes, Harp-Strings, Amelia, Cicada, The Piedmont Literary
Review, Mail Call Journal, Poetry Monthly (U.K.), The
Devil's Millhopper, The Fractal, Dark Planet, Pirate
Writings, and Star*Line. His online publication credits
include work in Octavo, Eclectica, Pyrowords, Avalon, Poetic
Express, and Deep South.
His chapbooks include AVIAN, Helionaut, Hamadryad's Passage,
Candle, Monks' Wine, Our Own Loving Kind, and Confluence (in
collaboration with Rosa Clement).
He is a former Marine Corps officer with 26 years of
service, including service in Vietnam. He recently retired
from George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia, where he
was Assistant Vice-President for Information Technology. He
is a Sysop of the Poetry Forum on CompuServe, where he is
the editor of the Compuserve Poetry Anthology.WOLF CIRCLE
© Jerry Jenkins
We knew this visit was to be our last.
Our talk was calm. With every glance we traded,
we sought what we'd neglected as years passed.
and put aside the mask for just a while,
eye to eye to prove who could be braver,
covering our longing with our guile.
stiff and watchful, close, but out of reach,
proud, respectful, patient, loving, cruel:
traits that sons must learn and fathers teach.
They served us both until that final day,
when wolf and gray wolf tried to close the circle.
Helpless, we couldn't find the way.
© Jerry Jenkins
On humid evenings they would come to dance
out in the meadows as the sun went down,
flitting among the dark damp weeds. I watched,
believing they were fairies, maybe fireflies.
Later someone told me they were swamp gas.
swarming and aglow where air meets space.
Telescopes have seen them in the reaches
of emptiness where frozen comets wander,
the dark side of the moon, the stones of Mars.
my brother napped until a thunderstorm,
black as soot and hungry as a vampire,
covered up the sun. The only light
a ball of lightning perfect as the sun,
glowing blue-green on the bed, and dancing,
tantalizing, frightening, near his head.
of summer midnights in Manila Bay,
tracing a glimmering curl along the waves
and coconuts that washed in on the tide,
monkey-faced and glowing like Halloween.
Some people told me they were warning flares,
others said that they were something else.
I think as I look back that both were right.
IMAGE
© Jan Sand
Across one's life
Is to view a landscape
To know, if nothing else,
Where one has been.
It is like a drawing
Made by connecting dots,
But the final picture
Remains a mystery,
Even at the end.
© Jan Sand
To waltz among the stars
Hum to themselves and to us
Strange melodies whose bars
Beat rhythms both electrical
And, partaking of magnetic,
Meld wild effects eclectical
To get results aesthetic.
The secrets of the moons
Expectorate back to Earth's
Parabolic spittoons.
With enigmas all enwrapped.
Digestible, suggestible
To bright receptive brains
To link up here just so
Spelling out the message that
We don't know what we know.
There's so much more to see,
And all that we assemble is
A total mystery.
Pinky
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