SF Poetry TV show

Twenty Years, Twenty Poems

Steve Mackin at the SF Poetry TV Show. Click to watch.

At the end of the Thursday tarot soiree conversation turned to the internet and its effect on musicians. The prevalent file sharing culture is challenging copyrights. And if you protect and charge for your music chances are the audience will turn away from you and go to the ones that are giving out their music for free.

“Take Lady Gaga, for example,” our pianist host Richard said, “she was giving her songs out for free until she built up a large following. She makes her money from her tours.”

I think of my friend Steve Mackin, who is always generous in giving out his poems. Earlier in the year he read twenty poems in twenty minutes to commemorate his twenty years of writing poetry. That and his most recent reading were accompanied by free books that he painstakingly printed, collated and stapled together. I appreciate having the poems in my hands after a reading to savor at another time. By giving, Steve’s poems are in circulation. I don’t think anybody ever “burst” into a scene. It all takes hard work, and Steve is planting the seeds.

Words are Meant to be Heard

John Rhodes and Dale Jensen. Click to see the show.

The booming of the internet has created a stage for players great and small. Thanks to the ever advancing technology, individuals have never been so visible. Video hosting sites are a perfect platform for some poets whose works are best presented live.

Not to say that the traditional paper publishing is not necessary. Books are like music scores that need to be preserved for posterity. But what makes a score comes alive is the performance. Through the internet, poetry performance has risen from cafe and salon readings to having a global presence.

Dale Jensen, surreal Dadaist of the cut-up consciousness, was a guest at John Rhodes’ SF Poetry, Open Mike, TV show. Let him give you a bird’s eye view of the absurd and the mundane with equal potency. Surrender to his voice. Hold onto your seat and enjoy the ride.

The Pit Bull

I’m scared of Chris Trian because he is big, tall and loud. When he stands up to read I imagine his mop of blond curls grazing the ceiling igniting fire. I am scared because Chris seems angry all the time. Except for sex, he blasts drugs, alcohol, God, Devil and Hell alike. Chris is not the cordial kind of guy who welcomes you to the Sacred Grounds poetry reading with open arms. He and his wife Dierdre occupy front row seats every Wednesday night. And if they come in late, somehow the seats are reserved for them.

I don’t remember how we get connected. I think Dierdre is the key. She is the witch with the pit bull and if you are nice to the witch, the pit bull won’t bite. When Chris turns off his poetry voice he is warm and gentle and sane. And as my anxiety eases I begin to hear his words, strong, no nonsense words that spew fiery imageries.

Chris brought his paintings to the SF Poetry Podcast TV Show. We mounted a different one for each of the taping segments. I listened to Chris without the distractions of noise and people and found myself reacting emotionally to his every word. We have great poets among us, writing with no recognition, struggling to make a living. Here’s Chris, a living example. Hear him and be moved.

In the early 1980’s I was stopped by a reporter on the street. He said he was from some TV station and wanted to ask me a question. I said OK and he proceeded. But when the camera man swung his huge lens in front of me I froze. Unable to speak into that big black cold and expressionless eye, I shook my head and walked away.

John Rhodes and Ken Saffran — John Rhodes with guest Ken Saffran

30 years later I was given the chance again. John Rhodes is one of the lone soldiers who documents the now poetry scene. Poverty and health problems do not deter him from realizing his artistic endeavor. He carries his equipment and go places by bus. When he started the monthly TV show in 2010 he asked me to co-host. Each of us have fifteen minutes to feature a poet. We tape the shows at BVAC (Bay Area Video Coalition)’s very nice studio. Back in his tiny room, John edits the segments and sends them out into cyber space.

The terror that haunted me so long ago subsided in time. Now I calm my guests and warn them about Big Eye. “He’s cold.” I said, “but make love to him.”