Category Archives: Poetry

National Poetry Month 2015! Horror Poetry

Happy Friday and good news…it’s still National Poetry Month! Hope you’ve enjoyed my contributions thus far. :D

For our last NPM15 entry, I’m giving you a sneak preview of A Coterie of Diamonds.

The excerpt below, The Dreamer, is a segment of my surreal narrative poem; the full piece will be featured in Thirteen o’Clock Press‘s upcoming anthology highlighting female horror writers. Very excited!

vsenterprises_thedreamer

Copyright 2015 VS Enterprises

National Poetry Month 2015! Erotic Poetry

houstonpress_natldonutday

Credit: Houston Press

Every Friday this April, I am going to feature an original work here for your reading pleasure. Throw rotted fruit, sing praises, lemme know you just don’t get it, but do, please, have an experience. If you borrow the work, be polite and cite!

This is a work-in-progress poem. Dog-eared for publication, but it’s only the second revision. It’s very intimate. Passionate. Worshipful. The reader submits instantaneously.

As a former obese woman, fried dough is my enemy! But there is something rather sexy about the forbidden, que no? Once a month I allow myself an indulgence. And when I do…

Copyright VS Enterprises

National Poetry Month 2015! Interactive Poetry

Every Friday this April, I am going to feature an original work here for your reading pleasure. Throw rotted fruit, sing praises, lemme know you just don’t get it, but do, please, have an experience. If you borrow the work, be polite and cite!

Today’s National Poetry Month contribution is the full poem featured during January’s Fantastic Ekphrastic! This is a performance piece – a poem intended to be spoken and performed as opposed to reading across a page. I do this format to emphasize the passion of the piece. Weird? Good! I’m purposely taking you out of your comfort zone. :D

1) You must first listen to this song. The beat sets the tempo of the poem; if you just start reading, it’s gonna be confusing! So, about the 30 second mark, you should feel yourself “lifting”…

2) Once lifted, you can start reading the poem to the beat OR

Listen to the beat in entirety, then go in on the poem. I’ve purposely made it legible in five minutes to compliment the track.

3) Following the beat of the song, you’ll be able to discern three different vignettes which cumulatively is ArcAngel. Ready?

GO! [Remember, DeOrro’s Five Hours first…]

© 2015 VS Enterprises

Happy Anniversary, Johnny Saucedo! WE DID IT!

irenes_booksigningMy first book signing. We ran out of books.
 
I actually had to run out to my car for the two books I had in the backseat; luckily, leftovers from an earlier attempt at guerrilla marketing.
 
The last fourteen months of my life living dollar to dollar so I can get published, and now I’m holding 10s of dollars, 20s of dollars, in one hand. I didn’t think I was gonna sell any books tonight, so I didn’t think about maybe having a bank bag or lock box or something to put this money in. I’m so fuckin’ irresponsible.
 
I sold out my first event. Jesus Mahoney Christ, this shit’s really happening!
 
Wow. Just. WOW.
 
4/9/14 @ 11:38pm

National Poetry Month 2015! Poem It Up Fridays

It’s National Poetry Month, ya’ll! What a great year for poetry thus far:

Every Friday this April, I am going to feature an original work here for your reading pleasure. Throw rotted fruit, sing praises, lemme know you just don’t get it, but do, please, enjoy responsibly. Practice good karma; if you borrow the work, be polite and cite!

Let’s kick off NPM15 and the one-year anniversary of debuting I Blew Up Juarez with a Von Simeon original poem. Although the book is action fiction, I had to sneak in my poetic background somewhere!

Commander Ga shares this poem about Creation with her secret husband, the accomplished scientist Jah:

Travel back to the world of mortals, little soul

as a pink sworl of smoke

In your smoke, twist to mist

from your mist, grow to clouds

and fall

as rain

feed a creature as rice, barley, herbs, sesame, or beans

Express into the divine

feminine

and become child

Be born into existence, and live

anew.

© 2015 VS Enterprises

VS Enterprises 2Q15 Outlook Report

So whatcha been up to Von?

Welp…life has presented disturbances and delights alike. The disturbance is…

…I’m in love.

Yes, yes, go ahead and boo hiss, I can’t stand it either! But it’s undeniable. I tried, friends, I tried to throw all my fatalist crazy at BF but he’s the wiser of the both of us. Embattled yet holding ground, he demanded I let him love me.

I did.

Last year’s 2015 plan was to pull up stakes, leave the United States and just roam Central and South America for however long I could secure a visa. Thanks to his merciless adoration I’m settling in, right here, in The Burg.

Jerk! Booooo hisssssssss

This is most unprecedented, as I have a “Wherever I May Roam” tendency. However, I’ve summited that pinnacle in one’s life when it’s time to let go of one’s story. While it fuels the topics I write about – I’ve got fodder for decades – I’ve decided to abandon/abort/divorce the societally-trained need to drag one’s past into the present.

I choose to be

a mere observer of events

which do not serve me now.

If I’m not escaping the Nature Coast, then I need to get cozy! I’ve had my Treehouse for four years now, but you wouldn’t know I was its resident with hospital-white, non-decorated walls and conservative, spare furnishings. In a word: BLAH. I’m gonna use the next few months for “nesting,” personalizing the Treehouse, reflecting my love for the arts and coastal living.

Credit: Pinterest

Credit: Pinterest

My New Year’s Resolution was to focus on ways to be more ‘present’ in the St Petersburg literary community, and so far, so good; my antics have been appreciated at recent events and festivals! Encouraged by the podcast as the 21st century’s version of gathering around and listening to vocal talent, we’re trying to pair up with popular cafes, bars and restaurants, to workshop or share our art as the venue’s ambiance. This should quell the annoying tendency of piping Pandora over patrons, as well as the yawn of truth that is, “Jack Kerouac used to write here.” Are you doing something like this where you’re from? Please share; I really want to make this a cultural phenomenon!

In the coming weeks, I’ll be traveling out of Florida; the song of the open road fills my ears. Ohhh can’t wait for this; a change of scenery offers a change in perspective, a polish to the lens I’m viewing the world through. Trying to do lots of outdoorsy stuff, which means, my ass needs to run an 11:18 mile average before I hit any trails!

The 2nd quarter looks promising: doing much for self, establishing a steady footing, letting love happen, enjoying the now.

What have you been up to?

Last Time I Was On The Open Road

Me Fighting The Inevitable

Have Tea With Me On Saturday!

Join us Saturday March 28th from 2 to 4pm for Sawgrass Bar’s Afternoon Tea! As you nosh nibbles provided by Ray’s Vegan Soul, me and my Wordier Than Thou pals shall ear-tain you with diverse readings!

Reader lineup:

C Abraham Bellamy
Shae Krispinsky
Von Simeon
Austin Scott Collins
Anda Peterson
Tiffany Razzano

Located at 2315 Central Ave, Saint Petersburg, Florida 33713 Donate what you can at the door! See you soon.

Read the Creative Loafing article

Remember the Literary Pub Crawl

all photos stolen from the Internet – Google ‘Victorian afternoon tea’ (why lie)…

The Show Must Go…On?

[read time: 5 mins, 35 sec]

A late night steady rain crept across the lake, sending me into a deep slumber, and when I woke in the bright morning, I was fine.

It’s over.

If one is adherant to Western horoscope, he would blame my ordeal on Taurean stubbornness. An adherant to scientific methodology would deem it a qualitative and quantitative result of an ongoing hypothesis. The thing is this: I know what I am experiencing, and I know what causes it, but to explain it to the “normals” is as fun as banging one’s head against the wall.

But, for documentation’s sake, and the fact I’ll be meeting with a state “vocational rehabilitation counselor” next Tuesday, I’ll do my best to explain the series of events leading up to incapacitation. (And yes, ‘vocational rehabilitation counselor’ sounds just as convincing as an ultra-conservative Christian anti-gay group’s ‘relationship counselor’. Like how their contingency swears there’s a way to un-gay you, seems the state has a plan to un-disable me. Hmm. Enough digressing.)

Let’s use a simple metaphor: I am a sponge. The moment I exit the Treehouse, I start to absorb my environment; children yelling as they play, chatter between neighbors, what qualifies as music from a passing car. Slightly sogged, I enter my truck and head to whatever venue or errand, and, once there, I absorb more. By the time I get back to the Treehouse, I’m so saturated I have to do things like meditate, turn off all electronics, sit in silent darkness, just to wring out. Sometimes an hour helps, sometimes, I need days. I don’t know what specifically in the environment or of society saturates me, I just know, this is a constant.

On occasion, I’ll cooperate in a local event to get my art out there, put face to written word, pal around with fellow artists. I have to be careful, because the saturation can enter hyper mode: too much face time, too much surrounding dialogue, too many new energies, then I start to feel boggy. Knowing the trend I compensate, one event a month should be enough. Of the calendar month, I need only spend four hours in extreme environmental disarray, a small torture for a fine opportunity.

But, thinking I could handle it, I booked back to back events, causing the inevitable no-one’s-fault-but-my-own consequences. By SunLit Festival’s Lucha Libro, it started: disorientation, inflammation, clammy skin, symptoms very similar to the flu. By the time my poet friend and I met at Galerie 909 the next day, I was feeling hot, dizzy, my joints, burning. That was the last day I was on my feet and lucid.

It got scary there for a bit, so I called my general practitioner, which I knew was a crap shoot. When you don’t have health insurance, doctors don’t necessary come running to assist. I waited two days for his callback, only to hear him say, “Not my area of expertise,” then advised me to call another center. There was a queue for appointments, so I followed the automated instructions, leaving the proper information in voice message form. As of this composition, no one has called to confirm.

“Von, you’re an idiot,” you’re thinking. “Take some pain medication, you’ll be right as rain!” Here’s the problem with that: You know all those side effect warnings they list during an AstraZeneca commercial? I’m the person who experiences each one, in full, vibrant, discombobulating color. Prescription pain medications cannot be an option. Alcohol has to be avoided. Anti-depressants, as I’ve chronicled in earlier posts, interfere with my well-being. 

The answer is simply, balance. Do-Be-Do-Be, as Professor Amit Goswami says. The moment I get going I start doing that, “I gotta…I gotta…I gotta…” mantra which slides me way too far from serenity. Only in a serene state can I poet, can I compose, can I enjoy music. I gotta Be just as much as I gotta Do, and, as my crone advises me constantly, “You ain’t gotta Do a damn thing.”

But the normals, they don’t comprehend that. If you’re not out there, if you’re not center stage, if you’re not on the mic, if you’re not coordinating projects, then you’re not working. You’re not contributing. You’re more burden than boon.

What I’ve been trying to advocate with this website and through wordcraft is that the disabled aren’t a burden. We can produce in the capitalistic sense if we are given leeway to create constructively, and that is, in the manner we know is positive for us, as long as what we engage in does not harm others or ourselves.

Despite knowing my limitations, I pushed myself too far, resulting in a very excruciating physical ordeal. A concerned friend sent a text, “Is it depression?” to which I responded, “Depression can’t find a seat at the table right now.” So if anything, let’s post that as a win! I didn’t let my incapacitation drive me into melancholy. I fought, silently, by resting. When my eyes worked, I read. When I could move, I sat in the sunlight. The irony of this beastly affliction: occurring during the first full sunny warm week of Spring in Florida.

I missed listening to the talented David Warner reading, “A Tale of Two Brians” at SunLit Festival’s Fiction Live! I’m so sad about that still, that story, so important and personal to me. But the reactions have been positive, and maybe, crossing fingers, someone liked it so much it’ll be commissioned for further production.

Absurd, isn’t it? I want my art to get out there, but in order for that to happen, I gotta get out there, but my sponginess makes it hard to stay out there, makes it difficult to share my craft.

Let’s see what these rehab folks gotta say about it.

Hooray! 400 WordPress followers..THANK YOU

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SunLit Festival’s Lucha Libro! Luchadora, Pero No Ganadora

This is what you get for being a literary arts booster; when you put yourself down as a stand-in, you might actually have to stand in. And just that happened during last night’s Keep St Pete Lit’s Lucha Libro! Part of St Petersburg’s SunLit Festival happening through next Sunday. I ended up as one of the literary luchadores. No mask, but definitely scary hair :D

Lucha Libro works like this – writers are matched off over semi-reliable typewriters, given a word, and then five minutes to compose something around that prompt. The crowd decides of the luchadores who wins the round. Most people were probably expecting this:

But it turned out to be much milder, a wonderful array of diverse styles and interpretations, a fun folly I was glad to join in on.

First Round: GANADORA! Word: Shrouds

shrouds

Second Round: GANADORA! Word: Seethed

seethed

Third Round: PERDEDORA Word: Naked

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