The Cook is Reminded of Chicago


The Cook is Reminded of Chicago

or On Burning and Becoming

I am raw-knuckled,
a saucepan stovetop-hot,
the wreckage of my own
architecture. The slick

splashes my wrist,
shaking pink; dough
on rise like an urge
to age. Fire does not wait

to be acknowledged.
The mind, a home
pain strolls slowly into.
It cuts a swathe.

Something simple.
It kidnaps the dry of city-
side skin. I am quick
to ignite, slow to act.

The landscape, a haymarket
afternoon, bright ash.
This does not register.
Fingers crack, the kindling

already redrafting itself.
My hands are the morning,
embers on the shoreline
bellowing a flame’s tune.

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Write Bloody Publishing Finalist

Each year, Write Bloody Publishing holds an open competition. Hundreds of people submit three poems in hopes of becoming one of about 25 finalists. Those 25 then submit their full manuscripts in hopes of being one of about 4 to 12 people who will win a publishing contract with Write Bloody. This year, I happen to be one of those finalists. Part of the submission process is to create a video-poem for the public. I chose a poem I wrote for my wife entitled “The Road to Our Doorstep.” I hope you enjoy. If you do, it’d help me out if you clicked the thumbs up button on YouTube or shared it on your Tumblr/Facebook/Twitter etc. Thanks for the support!

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Haiku for you…

Last week, as writers tend to do, I hit a bit of writer’s block.  To force myself to write something, I challenged myself to a deadline. I posted a Facebook status that stated I would write a haiku for each of the first 10 people to “like” the post.  I liked this exercise.  Maybe I’ll do it regularly.  Feel free to steal it. Below are the results as promised…

Monica Gerstemeier
Words are the smallest
element. They connect us
in ways classrooms can’t.

Tracey Whitaker
A breathe of city,
air is the letting go of.
Our duty? React.

Arrian Wissel
We hold in our fists
the orange and blue of skylines
and the law of hours.

Anne Ramsell Dowd
The hallways have ghosts.
There are homes that won’t leave us
in rows like lockers.

Ryan Hodgson-Rigsbee
Yes, in this we are
in accord. A record of
friendship in snapshots.

Mehmet Can Kose
Much like Weißbier
or a good book of poems,
we find truth in here.

D.J. Nichols
The transition from
morp gossip to adulthood
ain’t so bad, is it?

Rebecca Noel
Oak Park City is
the hardcore place to parkour,
the business buzz.

Dawn Marie Galtieri
The commonage of
open hands gives voice to the
city we live in.

Ann Petroliunas
We dance like Ms. Ann
is watching. To celebrate,
we must learn the steps.

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Roger Bonair-Agard performs at Urban Sandbox

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Natalie Richardson Live at Urban Sandbox

National Youth Poet Laureate, Oak Park River Forest High School Slam Team member, and Louder Than a Bomb participant Natalie Richardson performs her poem The Things My Mother Craved live at the Urban Sandbox on Friday October 12th, 2012.

To find out more about the Urban Sandbox check out www.Facebook.com/UrbanSandbox.

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The NBA is making fun of me.

Yesterday, Tom Hanks was making fun of me.  Today, The New York Knicks take a stab.  At least Poetry Slam is in the public eye enough to get the NBA’s attention. Iman Shumpert, point guard for the Knicks was one of my former

Oak Park River Forest High School Slam Team students.  He’s a talented writer and been an advocate for poetry (check this!).  I wonder what he thinks of this poster?

Also, the Chicago Bulls wouldn’t pull this. Just sayin’.

*photo courtesy of Alisa Raymond

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Tom Hanks is making fun of me.

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Urban Sandbox – March 2012

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Urban Sandbox Friday February 10th!

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Of This Red Blood: For The Bulls, Derrick Rose, and Chicago

Here’s a piece I wrote for MVP candidate Derrick Rose. I am of this city. I love it so much. This is dedicated to my Chicagoans and my Bulls.

To download the song for free right click here:
Of This Red Blood: For The Bulls, Derrick Rose, and Chicago

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