David is a poet, genre writer, and blogger. His blogs show his multi-dimensional interests: writing, self-defense, and dating locations in and around St. Louis.

Today on Riehlife he's sharing his poem "The Migrant Jungle," and a guest post "Poetry: A Portrait in Motion." The Migrant Jungle was inspired by a situation in France in 2009. I feel it's an important commentary on immigration overall--a principle at the heart of building America as we know it. --JGR
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The Migrant Jungle
By David Alan Lucas

Go along the borders of any prosperous land
And you shall find the shanty towns
Where the immigrants have come.
They have not crossed the border,
But are looking for a chance
To come into that land,
To find a new life,
New prosperity,
New hope.
The romance that draws
Them across the possibility of escape
From whatever oppresses them
Or for chance to find
Had been forbidden them
By their circumstance.
The law makers look at these
Dispossessed towns ,
Declare there is too much crime.
How can we possibly let these immigrants
Crawl across the divide
And come into our homeland?
Has that not always been the question
Over time and do not immigrants cross
From border to border,
Over the land,
Cross the sea,
egally or illegally,
Finding ways to be smuggled in?
For they see the golden apples,
The see the path that maybe
Even to them our poor are better off
Than the immigrant on the other side
Of the fence.
Crime in their little shanty towns,
Who is truly surprised,
For have we not created
Through our laws of restriction
A way to keep the possible immigrant out
Despite being a grand melting pot?
Why are we surprised
If the mafia or any organized crime
Do not prey upon
The exploitation of the immigrant’s trail?

I joined SLWG in 2007 when I moved here, and became a member of distinction in 2008. Hey! The prez lives in the building next door and she's been in the Goddess Gathering Room to take tea.

1) Send-off Dinner. Before I left, Doreen Hulsey and her fascinating family (including longtime piano teacher) invited me for a going away supper to send me off. I know Doreen through the St. Louis Writers Guild and the Ethical Society.

2) Homecoming Dinner. Upon my return, Liz Sommers and her husband Kevin E. invited me to a welcome home dinner. They both worked for the anti-apartheid movement and asked such intelligent questions, listened so intently, and threw in such great stories of union organizing that it made for a rapt evening in Madison, Illinois.

3) Root Canal. Am I crazy? Maybe. But, I'm so grateful that tooth #20 waited a week to send me signals of excrutiating pain. I hadn't been to the dentist since my move from Northern California a year ago June. Finally, I got dental insurance through Authors Guild on the basis of my literary journal publications. It's gonna save me a bundle now! Plaza Dental got me right in and fixed me right up. I like the folks over there. Nice feeling and ambiance. They even let me wear the lead apron for my security blanket. I like the weight.

4) New Review of Sightlines. Gregory Robson, at Resident Media Pundit, posted a review of "Sightlines: A Poet's Diary"

5) Blogging Award? Yvonne Perry's Writers in the Sky honored me with the Brillante Weblog Premio Blogging Award saying,

Janet Riehl's blog http://www.riehlife.com/ has a wide variety of topics as she takes us all over the world with her poetic writing and daily insights. Her literary journey is dotted with photos, clip art, and useful links to other people's work. She has a great list of resources, too! Her blog is interactive and invites a lot of comments.

I investigated a little further and found that the award was more in the way of a game bloggers play...a blogging meme...rather than a full-fledged award. You can read about this in two excellent posts here: Museum of Hoaxes and Heart and Hands.

When I shared this information with Yvonne, she thought maybe I would be offended or she ought to take it off her blog. I said, "No, the award, coming from you, is a real award." It reveals something interesting about the blogging and internet culture...about memes and the awards game in general.

6) Art patronage on the move. Joseph La Marque came over to install the finished mounts for Lloyd Kleine Harvey's delicate and elegant twig sculptures. We are experimenting with ways to make Lloyd's work more stable and attractive to collector's. I think we have some winners here. Joseph La Marque is an artist in his own right, and when he does work in support of other artists, his minimalist aesthetic and knack for the simple solution comes into play wonderfully. We're viewing these mounts as prototypes for Lloyd to use when he exhibits his work with the Regional Arts Commission...and are thinking he might even use the mounts as he's making the work. We'll see what Lloyd thinks soon.

7) Audiobook nearing final stages. "Sightlines: A Family Love Story in Poetry and Music" is now in in the homestretch of applying for mechanical licenses for the music used on the four discs that are still in public domain, copyrighting my father's songs, and making decisions about packaging and quantities. Hoping for a release in early October. We'll see. Scott Kidd was the audio engineer on the album and now is my point person/project manager who's been a godsend. Scott has a compatible way of thinking and working that's pure pleasure.

Family Poetry Book. My father's been busy while I've been gone. Soon he'll be giving me the files for our next book project: "Worth Remembering: The Poetry" which is an anthology of his poetry, family and friends poetry. Poetry books are a bear to do as the must be spaced properly. Oh, for the novels!

And you, dear readers? What are your be-gratitudes?

With charming diffidence and low key humor he kept us enthralled and left us wiser for it.

Ten plays selected for reading out of forty submitted.
Four plays read chosen for full production.
Mandel's "Audition Piece" made both cuts!

Gerry Mandel, playwright

THE GENESIS OF "AUDITION PIECE"

I started writing this play about a year ago. It began as a result of a comment made by a friend named Harry. We are part of a group called Readers of the Purple Page. We read or act unusual or radio plays, such as “Under Milkwood” and “Spoon River Anthology” for small audiences. We had just completed a weekend of "Spoon River" and were talking about what to do next.

Harry said, “Gerry, why don’t you write a play?” Easier said than done, right?

“About what?” I said.

He had the answer. “About some actors who are auditioning for roles in a play or movie. Call it Audition Piece.’”

That’s how it started and that’s what the play is called. I sketched out some characters, which was easy. I used the members of our Readers group as models, built some back stories around them, and proceeded to put them into a situation. In this case, they were over-the-hill actors (and one playwright with writers block) in Florida, trying out for a couple of roles in a movie to be shot there.

I love the theater, I love movies, I’ve been through a lot of casting sessions during my time as producer and creative director for ad agencies. Most of those sessions took place in L.A. or NYC. But I figured those two cities were too expected. Florida was a wonderful place to find actors who no longer--- -or never could---make it in the major markets.

I had the first act finished in a couple of months, dividing my time between that and some short stories I was developing. After several months of it just sitting there, Harry asked, “What about that play?”

Our group got together and read through it. hey liked it; I liked what I heard, and promised them to finish it. I revised the first act based on what I heard and their comments, changed some of the back stories, and proceeded on to act two.

In October of 2007 I got them together again for a reading. It was funny. We all laughed. It felt right. Someone then e-mailed me about a playwriting competition sponsored by First Run Theatre. Why not? So I cleaned up some of the dialogue, wrote a tougher ending (my original was too sweet and pleasant, too tidy a wrap-up, which is my nature) and sent it in.

The deadline was the end of November 2007. I got a call in January 2008 that "Audition Piece" had been picked for a reading, one of ten out of forty submitted. The reading was early February ‘08, and the following week I was told that it was one of four chosen for full production.

The next step, casting, was up to the director. I was there strictly as an observer. I kept holding my breath until I knew the right people could become the characters I first began to breathe life into a year ago.

(see post below for dates and location)

Wilfred Bereswill

Afterwards, I chatted with Wilfred and discovered 1) his work often took him to China; and 2) He had a book coming out this spring. I'd assumed he and Qui were friends, but in fact, they'd just met that night. They'd had a chance to visit about an hour before his talk.

I asked Wilfred to tell us what he terms "my brief history as a writer":

It started in 2004 when I wrote a journal out of boredom traveling around China for a month. My 85 year old ex-nun aunt read it and convinced me I should write something.

In 2005 I started writing A REASON FOR DYING and pitched it to the Chief Editor of Hilliard and Harris at a conference in the fall of 2005.

In the summer of 2006 I finally heard back from the editor. She liked it a lot, but detailed some work that it needed. I re-submitted it to her in December 2006.

In March of 2007, Hilliard and Harris accepted "A Reason for Dying" and it will be coming out now, this spring, 2008.

I'm probably the only writer who didn't dream of writing since I was a kid. My only skills were business writing. Bottom line, I had a great story to tell, but no skills. I developed the skills as I wrote it with the help of the St. Louis Writers Guild and Sisters in Crime.

Visit Wilfred's website to read the first chapters of A REASON FOR DYING and learn about its sequel, A REASON FOR TERROR. You can also check out his blog here, "A Reason For Blogging: A look into the mind of Wilfred Bereswill

Music is so important in our lives and spirits and in forming our children. As a child my father sang in the car with us rather than turn on the radio. We barely knew what a radio was. With the increased shift towards more virtual entertainment and less sensate life, I felt the story of Joshua and his fellow cats, was one the world needs now.

Joshua after his performance Opening Night

Anotona says, "Joshua is a member of the All-Suburban 7th-8th Grade Concert Choir and the 8th Grade Choir---both spots were through audition. The All Suburban was an even greater honor since only eight students, two from each vocal range, were chosen among all the schools. They performed after an all-Saturday workshop this January at Missouri Baptist University. Joshua has been performing in church plays, drama ministry, and keyboard recitals since he was seven years old. Joshua is currently studying Shakespeare at North Kirkwood Middle School and hopes to try out for West Side Story in the summer." Both Joshua and his family live in Kirkwood Missouri.

Here is Tayé Foster Bradshaw's story, "A Cat Performs". --JGR

Antona Smith, author and mother, and future author, Kiden

A CAT PERFORMS

The cafeteria turned theatre was a-buzz with the excited chatter of anxious parents, their little darlings, even as 6th-8th graders, were making their fall debut. It was his first time as a major character in a major, Broadway musical. The director, a theatre major in college, was told not to attempt this level of performance; he was told the kids were too young and too inattentive for such professional roles. He, along with the musical director and a cast of hundreds that included professional musicians, professional costume designers, and ultra-talented middle-school make-up artists stunned the audience with their ability to transform and create the imagined.

The announcement came as the lights in the room were dimmed. A collective hush fell over the room and the occupants sat straighter in the seat. The cell phones were instantly silenced and all eyes were on the stage, waiting for the first movement, the first note to announce the start. The hearts were beating fast as the culmination of weeks and weeks of three-hour rehearsals, sacrificed weekends, and crammed homework sessions was for this one moment, opening night.

The CATS creped across the stage as one-by-one the principal characters came out to sing the opening number, and then we saw him. The entire row did a collective gasp and uttered a hushed “wow.” He didn’t look like himself, his costume was amazing, his make-up impeccable, his wig magnificent, he was no longer Joshua, the outgoing, multi-limbed movement thirteen-year-old, he was Quaxo, the alter ego of Mr. Mistofolees in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “CATS.”

He sang the first solo amidst great anticipation as the first number ended and he leaped to stage left. He didn’t know his older brother, home on leave from the Navy, was sitting a few rows back, but saw him as he sang, “There’s a man over there.” in his distinctive tenor that could be heard amidst the chorus of voices.

The Cast, Final Performance

The musical went on through the night with each moment of his stage appearance and opportunity for the row of fans to sit in amazement at the talent of this goofy kid. His solos were commanding and his performance was memorable as the black and white cat with the “Lion King” mane of black & white hair. It took a moment for his little sisters, in the best seats of the house, on the floor at stage front with all the other elementary schoolers, to notice his saucer eyes beneath the layers of black & white professional makeup. The little fans sang along with him and by the third night of the performance, knew every line.

The crowd emerged from the cafeteria-theatre to become a throng in the hallway, waited in anticipation for their “star” to emerge from the dressing rooms. The wall-to-wall bodies made it next to impossible to see over the crowd. His big brother’s, 6’4” frame was the lookout for when the wigless, jeans-clad, still-made-up, budding star emerged from the cafeteria-table barricade. An escort of basket-carrying aids led the trail of actors to the Drama class door; shouts of “I’m proud of you” and “We love you!” filled the air as the excited thespians did their carpet walk.

The Opening Night excitement ended with Joshua and his family making a trip to Oberweis for a late snack of ice cream and chess. He was too thrilled. There was a thought that the crowds and noise would dissipate as the performances turned into night two and three, but no, there was still standing-room-only, the excited chatter, the collective hush, and the anticipation-laden focus on the stage. The performing arts program at North Kirkwood Middle School outdid themselves with taking on a professional production right down to the musical score, treatment of the actors as true artists, the grueling performance, the high expectations, it all culminated in a Broadway-worthy performance by 11, 12, and 13 year olds.

Aaron Belz was born in 1971 in Iowa City, Iowa. When I asked him (thinking he'd grown up there) if being born in the place of the Iowa Writers Workshop had changed his writing life in any way, he replied, "I don't know, I was largely unconscious at the time." That's drollery, fit for an 18th century chocolate house. Aaron lives in St. Louis, now, where he has hosted the Observable Reading series since fall of 2003, now in its fifth season. Observable Readings is, "not a reading group, exactly, but a reading series that showcases poets from all over the country," says Aaron.

Aaon's poems have appeared in notable journals such as "The Boston Review," but he wrote "Swan Song" especially for Riehlife. For me, it takes me back to my passion for mythology in 5th grade when I read every book on the shelf...and went on to study folklore in college. I like how this poem builds and circles around on itself...and reveals more of Aaron's Restoration-era wit. --JGR

SWAN SONG
by Aaron Belz

The mute swan, Cygnus olor,
sings one melancholy song
before it dies; or so we thought

‘til modern science shook
its harness bells and pulled
society’s buggy toward a truer truth.

The mute swan never sings
(hence the name) just as the fat
lady doesn’t signal an opera’s end

necessarily. What is it with
these persistent myths
about songs that happen

just before the ends of things?
Birds of a feather flock together—
so they say. But what about a horse

of a different color? It neither
flocks nor sings a heartbreaking
song. Nor does a gift horse.

Sometimes I picture Lady G.
atop her horse, which probably
trotted along oblivious of its nude

rider; but was Zeus, in his swan
costume, oblivious of Leda riding
nude atop him? Interesting to note

that male swans and ducks
are the only birds with schlongs—
they can be forty centimeters long.

So maybe it was the mortal Leda
who felt compelled to sing.
Mythology is disgusting.

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NOTE

Next up on Observable Readings on February 7 - Esiaba Irobi and Obi Nwakanma

Poet and playwright Esiaba Irobi was born in the Republic of Biafra and has lived in exile in Nigeria, Britain and the USA. His book of poetry, Why I Don't Like Philip Larkin, was published by Nsibidi Publishers in Massachusetts in August, 2003. Irobi is on the faculty of Ohio University.

Obi Nwakanma is the author of The Horsemen and Other Poems (Africa World Press 2007). His first collection of poetry, The Roped Urn, won the ANA / Cadbury Award, Nigeria's highest poetry prize. Nwakanma has also written a biography of the late poet Christopher Okigbo, who was killed during the Biafra War, entitled Thirsting for Sunlight. He received his MFA from Washington University.

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From the opening presentation of "Crowns of Glory" (Victor Little--actor--Sheila Forrest--vocalist--and David A. N. Jackson--vocalist & percussionist), through the panel of three distinguished photojournalists (D. Michael Cheers, Jason Miccolo Johnson, and Wiley Price) moderated by Alisa Swindell (Romare Bearden Fellow 2007-2008), to the closing notes of the Golden Voices of Youth from the Bethesda Temple Church (Bishop James A. Johnson, Pastor) and the last "amen" of the Bethesda Elder Ronald Stephens' benediction...100s gathered in the St. Louis Art Museum's auditorium renewed inspiration to be bearers of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s dream of a world in which justice, truth, and human unity can prevail.

Korliss Young, entreprenuer and a talented writer I met this week at the St. Louis Writers Guild Loud Mouth Open Mic (she had performed a poem accompanied by her husband, Don) enjoyed the evening with me, with its theme of education and the future of African American youth.

Every segment of the evening infused with community spirit lifted us higher and higher. The panel of D. Michael Cheers (Assistant Professor, Photojournalism, San Jose State University), Jason Miccolo Johnson (Washington, D. C.-based photographer and author), and Wiley Price (photograper, St. Louis American Newspaper) generously shared insights, experience, and their inbred dignity. The discussion centered around Moneta (Mon-ee-ta) Sleet, Jr. and Gordon Parks before moving on to a presentation of each panelist of his own work...and how Sleet and Parks and other panel members had influenced that work.

DISCLAIMER: Below are my notes, merging comments by all panelists, without quotations, because I'm unsure of accurate attribution. I simply want to share the gatherings of the evening with you.

Moneta Sleet, Jr. had a truth to tell with the camera. Gordon Parks is quoted, "The camera is my choice of weapons." Both used black and white and available light, covering stories taht the majority press of the time didn't want to cover. Sleet had an agility to work the angles of a shot. He was a ballet dancer moving on his toes; he thought fast and made great decisions. It's difficult to capture what is truly there...but one tries to always be in the right spot. The still, frozen image is more powerful than the moving image...it remains embedded in your mind. Several panelists said that as boys reading periodicals inspired them to do the work they went on to do...to seek more of THAT.

Movement is brought forward in a photo by getting closer to a subject ("working the subject"). Neither Sleet nor Parks were detached. They were part of what they were shooting. In these close-up moments, they ran the risk of getting hurt, of getting hit when the segregationists attacked the demonstrators. They put themselves into harm's way in getting these images.

Perspective: Where you sit determines how you perceive life. The choice in a photo is how to show content and context in a photo...and how much of each. In some illuminating visual education moments, we were taken through how to analyze a photo see how the message within the image is constructed and how the viewer comes to understand the message. The more you look, the more you see.

In looking at the work of Gordon Parks, we learned about his choice to work inside the system by photographing for LIFE MAGAZINE. They gave him lots of latitude, and he was able to get into situations that other photographers (mainstream white) couldn't have gotten, such as the Poverty Board series and the Black Panthers. Without the distraction of the flash, people dropped their guards. Parks sacrificed quality [of a crisper image] for the emotion of the moment.

D. Michael Cheers (Assistant Professor, Photojournalism, San Jose State University) said that he learned photography by being immersed in the university of Gordon Parks and Moneta Sleet, Jr. "We need to tell our stories; argue our case." Photography allows us to enter a frozen instant of time and make it our own. He recommended two books: "The Sweet Flypaper of Life," by Roy Decarava and Langston Hughes, and "The House of Bondage," by Ernest Cole, a South African photojournalist "who picked up the camera and documented apartheid in South Africa in the early 1960s. He left the country, one step a head of the South African authorities, for New York in 1966. With the help of Joseph Lelyveld, a reporter for the New York Times and Thomas Flaherty, an associate editor of LIFE magazine, House of Bondage, was published," said Cheers

Jason Miccolo Johnson (Washington, D. C.-based photographer and author) pointed out that all three men were born in Missouri. Jason was born and raised in the Bootheel section. He quoted Parks on the importance of "shooting with insight, not just eyesight."

Wiley Price (photograper, St. Louis American Newspaper) showed us a photo-essay of the Jena (Jeena) Six. Wiley said, "Sometimes you see the picture with your ears," and have to wheel around to get it. "You have to step into the story." He showed us how signage could tell complete volume's, like the white woman carrying a sign saying, "Not all white folks are crazy."

The Golden Voices of Youth chose "We Shall Overcome" as their last song of the evening. They invited the audience to stand and we rejoiced in Dr. King's dream, holding hands, singing together, and swaying slightly through layers of memories from the past and those stretching out towards to future. On my left I clasped hands with a tall man clad in spackle-spattered work boots with working man's hands (familiar to me from the working men in my family) and a deep baritone voice. On my right I clasped hands with Korliss, a stranger just a few nights before.

I found a great site where you can hear Kerouac speaking and singing his prose and poetry. Click here. Also, you gotta check out the NPR page of Kerouac here.

Scroll detail of "On the Road" by TIM (from The Tribe online network)

At The Mac, folks read original work interpersed with readings from "On the Road." I read Clive Matson's title poem "Squish Boots."

Clive Matson (Trudy Fisher, 2004). Click here to go to Clive's website and learn more about his work.

In Northern California Clive was an important writing friend-teacher-mentor for me and I attended his "Crazy Child" workshops when I had the chance. Through connections made there I began publishing in national literary magazines and when "Sightlines: A Poet's Diary" came out, Clive wrote a testimonial for the book jacket, and I felt all grown up.

Since this was a Beat theme evening, I chose his work to read because Clive became a protege of the Beat Generation in New York in the 1960s. His mentor was Herbert Huncke and John Wieners was the poet Cive most admired. Clive's first book of poems, "Mainline to the Heart", was published in 1966 by Diane DiPrima's Poets Press. Half a dozen poetry chapbooks followed (and another in the offing) along with the classic for writers "Let the Crazy Child Write," one of the most sensible and inspiring writing books anywhere around.

I told the audience at The Mac, "I've just moved here from Northern California. There we think of St. Louis as 'Back East.' But, now that I'm here, I'd say you are more Wild West than we are. You carry guns--legally--and smoke...indoors...in public places." That got us off to a humorous start.

Clive's "Squish Boots" ended up in John Wieners coffin and went with him to the grave. He'd sent the book as soon as it was published to Johhn Wiener's so he could see it, but the book got there just too late. The man who'd cared for Wiener's then placed it in the coffin. That's how I remember the story, and I only wish you could hear Clive tell it.

One of my favorite stanza from "Squish Boots" is:

Are you my Daddy?
How can you walk
with those funny hairy balls
between your legs? Where hundreds
of millions of tiny people
jump around in fish suits?
(page 62)

Folks really liked Clive's poem, and also, how I read it, which pleased me. I enjoyed everything that was read and the convivial atmosphere. When we include work at open mics besides those in the room, it enlarges the context to say: "We are part of a living lineage of words. Come, partake," rather than "Love me. Love me, love my work, love me right now." There's plenty of talent in St. Louis...and, writers who are good at their craft and can make us all laugh, too, even while making a point. (Another time I'll be able to introduce you to my new writing pals.)