Poetry Club Talks…

Photo credit Jaredd Craig, on unsplash

NEW! NEW! NEW!
Poetry Club is here for three reasons, to increase the understanding and appreciation of poetry, illustrate healthy communication between people of different opinions, and promote the creation of new poetry clubs in your neighborhood.

Since October 2015 we have been meeting in local coffee shops in our city, Bellingham, Washington. It started when four of us took Ron’s “Introduction of Poetry” class at a local community college. We enjoyed it so much we asked Ron if he would like to continue the discussion in a casual atmosphere. Currently, we are about 5-7 people who meet every Saturday online. Every week we discuss the work of a different poet, classical to contemporary.

Thank you for listening, participating, and for loving poetry.

Contact us via our Facebook page– https://www.facebook.com/Poetryclubbellingham

S1E1 Poetry Club Talks Charles Bukowshki

Poet: Charles Bukowski, b.1920- d.1994
Hosted: Shannon 
Book: What Matters Most Is How Well You Walk Through the Fire, Published June 1st, 2002 by Ecco Press (first published June 5th, 1999), Paperback, 416 pages
ISBN: 1574231057 (ISBN13: 9781574231052)
Poems Discussed: The Mice, The 12 Hour Night, and a video feature available here: Tom Waits reads Nirvana by Charles Bukowski  https://youtu.be/W-vdPkESLZs

Podcast Recorded: October 10, 2020

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Breakfast at Harris’s

photo credit: Trip Advisor
photo credit: Trip Advisor

Happy moments.  They show up in the most surprising places, such as a window seat  Harris Avenue Café in Fairhaven.  I’m an inventory taker.  Every so often I take a look at my life and take inventory, see how I’m doing in relationship to my goals.  The last two years have been disappointing on many fronts.  At the same time, however, many personal breakthroughs have accumulated new ground.  Navel gazing at its best.

So, I’m treating myself to breakfast.  There’s no food in my kitchen and I haven’t eaten since Thursday afternoon.  This week I had two successful poetry performances and, well, I’m taking myself out to celebrate.  The plate arrives.  Eggs Toulouse with smoked salmon, Harris’s special spin on Eggs Benedict.  I order with fruit in place of potatoes.  Sitting pretty on the plate, red strawberries, green kiwi, yellow pineapple, orange melon sliced and arranged like they want to be painted.  My only brush, knife and fork. This is nothing I would make for myself and I don’t mind paying for someone else to put it all together.

The art of eating.

Enjoying the presentation.

Pausing for appreciation.

I seldom eat out.  I am thankful.

Picture 391 Harris CafeI have my 16 ounce mocha to my right. It sits there asking to be stirred.  I imagine a dark heavy layer of chocolate below the shots and milk. What a beautiful drink.  A book I’m three chapters in lays open on the left. Brightly painted tourist in sandals, slacks or khaki shorts and golf visors walk around looking for a nibble.  Groups of them walk in all asking for a table “outside in the garden.”  I’m inside, sitting in the window.  It’s almost nine, the sun is still behind 17th avenue; I’m safe for another two hours.

Breathing in the atmosphere, the happiness almost knocks me over—My God, I’m HAPPY.  I’m so freakin’ happy!  What a magical place this is.

This table, this view, this town, this moment—right now—just right now. I’ve always dreamed of doing this day in Europe.  Now I challenge France to come up with a better day.

Benny’s at dawn!

Whoever’s been praying for me, thank you.  This morning a portion of joy has manifest.

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Harris Avenue Cafe  http://www.harrisavecafe.com/