Two readers will be featured on Poetry Thursdays at the Midtown Scholar in mid-August. Marty Esworthy & Erica Eberle will strut their stuff on the 16th.
Erika Eberly grew up in suburban Maryland and went to High School in
nearby Westminster. Eberly has been writing and reading poetry for years as
well as being actively involved in various arts pursuits.
nearby Westminster. Eberly has been writing and reading poetry for years as
well as being actively involved in various arts pursuits.
She always wanted to be a performer and has performed in numerous dance
and theater presentations, most recently with Narcisse Theatre Company
in Harrisburg.
and theater presentations, most recently with Narcisse Theatre Company
in Harrisburg.
Marty Esworthy’s recent journal verse includes Haggard & Halloo,
text TOWER, Literary Chaos, Fledgling Rag, and the International Digest
of World Poetry. His books include hard reality, Pacobooks, 2004, and The
Object Stares Back, Uh-Oh! - T&T Press, 2009.
Twenty-Six Javanese Proverbs was awarded the 2006 R.E.Foundation Award for Outstanding Poetry, Iris G. Press, 2006. Esworthy’s latest work is After the Aughts,
Lost Alphabet, 2018. https://www.amazon.com/After-Aughts-Marty-Esworthy/dp/1948333821/
Special Guest: Joun Catalano, mandolin, bass
text TOWER, Literary Chaos, Fledgling Rag, and the International Digest
of World Poetry. His books include hard reality, Pacobooks, 2004, and The
Object Stares Back, Uh-Oh! - T&T Press, 2009.
Twenty-Six Javanese Proverbs was awarded the 2006 R.E.Foundation Award for Outstanding Poetry, Iris G. Press, 2006. Esworthy’s latest work is After the Aughts,
Lost Alphabet, 2018. https://www.amazon.com/After-Aughts-Marty-Esworthy/dp/1948333821/
Special Guest: Joun Catalano, mandolin, bass
COMING SOON:
Barbara DeCesare will perform at the Scholar on September 13th. Maria James-Thiaw is featured October 4, and Jason Moffitt will declaim in November, on the 15th.
There's poetry every Thursday. All events run from seven to nine pm, 1302 N, Third Street, Harrisburg, 17102. For more information: 717.236.1680
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A riff for two voices and theremin: [to be read, with dramatic urgency, but somewhat flatly, albeit as if reading a scientific report w/an edge.] Destination Moon V1: I’ll cry tomorrow. Looking out on creation, it feels/ like the edge of the Mare Librium is askew maybe three degrees to port. It’s dizzying. It's another and another aloof, unambiguously-lunar day-for-night, and vast breadths of beach on the North-coast of the mare fuse-- shimmering moongrain and wasteland into one/ long, quivering/ rectangular/ silver-gelatin/ print. V2: Westward leading, still proceeding. V1: Leeward leading/ still…. V2: Still coagulating. Cooling, scintillating into measureless darkening space swirling, still protean, amalgamating into an ever sorrowful asteroid belt of broken dreams. Undefined. Long dolorous flutes, like wands of impotent magicians. O, sea, of long forgotten sadnesses-- seriously, V1: What became/ of the early me? Thy bough and thy shaft, discomfiting, I weep/ for the rods not Tolkien. =================
Shishikuigawa, Near Midstream
V1. I'm chilling, I'm chillin', mama don't you tell on me, I'm chilling, I'm chillin', mama don't you tell on me, Hell's bells. Location sells.
V2. Parts of the first full week of June featured cool and unsettled conditions. In Tokushima cicadas arrived early, puzzling odorless, tasteless and colorless gas aficionados who can be found often massing in attics or behind the water heater and can go undetected for years. Short people.
V1. Pronunciations of words can diverge into their own distinct swarms—and about how the way we say even relatively rare words like cicada reflect much larger shifts in language. Most American families are overwhelmed by chatter and clutter, too busy to pronounce d's or t's for instance. Piaget and Chomsky have forgotten when to modulate or, at worst how to harmonize. And they've become quite blase when discussing whether or not to clean out the garage this year.
V2. Colder conditions in winter can decrease indoor static levels, pitch, musk, sustainable reverb. That's why tonality levels often tend to fluctuate throughout the year.
V1. Since cicadas are singing summer melodies earlier than expected, multitudes of linguistic theoreticians are looking assiduously for answers. And, concurrently, ignoring many household maintenance problems
V2. One theory is that when houses are all sealed up tight against the cold weather, rhinoplasty abounds and vocal tones tend to be higher, less dulcet, leading to uninflected breathing, vocal strain and general frustration because there is not air flow enow to sooth the savage beast. Or breast if you'll pardon my French.
V1. The leaves of a cherry tree are verdâtre and they are unfolding. On the other hand plum tree leaves are fully reddish purple and, mostly, unrolled.
It's a grand night for dry weather-- it's expected on Friday and Saturday. Melodies, do in fact linger, and there will be a chance for a thunderstorm on Sunday during the final day for merriment and song.
V2. Goodgawd-a-mighty! Up so many prunus mume. Pride of the Susquehanna. Pride of the Yankees. Land of the Pilgrims. Abide, abide.
V2. Abide indeed! Willow, don't you weep for me.
===================================================
A riff for two voices and theremin: [to be read, with dramatic urgency, but somewhat flatly, albeit as if reading a scientific report w/an edge.] Destination Moon V1: I’ll cry tomorrow. Looking out on creation, it feels/ like the edge of the Mare Librium is askew maybe three degrees to port. It’s dizzying. It's another and another aloof, unambiguously-lunar day-for-night, and vast breadths of beach on the North-coast of the mare fuse-- shimmering moongrain and wasteland into one/ long, quivering/ rectangular/ silver-gelatin/ print. V2: Westward leading, still proceeding. V1: Leeward leading/ still…. V2: Still coagulating. Cooling, scintillating into measureless darkening space swirling, still protean, amalgamating into an ever sorrowful asteroid belt of broken dreams. Undefined. Long dolorous flutes, like wands of impotent magicians. O, sea, of long forgotten sadnesses-- seriously, V1: What became/ of the early me? Thy bough and thy shaft, discomfiting, I weep/ for the rods not Tolkien. =================
Shishikuigawa, Near Midstream
V1. I'm chilling, I'm chillin', mama don't you tell on me, I'm chilling, I'm chillin', mama don't you tell on me, Hell's bells. Location sells.
V2. Parts of the first full week of June featured cool and unsettled conditions. In Tokushima cicadas arrived early, puzzling odorless, tasteless and colorless gas aficionados who can be found often massing in attics or behind the water heater and can go undetected for years. Short people.
V1. Pronunciations of words can diverge into their own distinct swarms—and about how the way we say even relatively rare words like cicada reflect much larger shifts in language. Most American families are overwhelmed by chatter and clutter, too busy to pronounce d's or t's for instance. Piaget and Chomsky have forgotten when to modulate or, at worst how to harmonize. And they've become quite blase when discussing whether or not to clean out the garage this year.
V2. Colder conditions in winter can decrease indoor static levels, pitch, musk, sustainable reverb. That's why tonality levels often tend to fluctuate throughout the year.
V1. Since cicadas are singing summer melodies earlier than expected, multitudes of linguistic theoreticians are looking assiduously for answers. And, concurrently, ignoring many household maintenance problems
V2. One theory is that when houses are all sealed up tight against the cold weather, rhinoplasty abounds and vocal tones tend to be higher, less dulcet, leading to uninflected breathing, vocal strain and general frustration because there is not air flow enow to sooth the savage beast. Or breast if you'll pardon my French.
V1. The leaves of a cherry tree are verdâtre and they are unfolding. On the other hand plum tree leaves are fully reddish purple and, mostly, unrolled.
It's a grand night for dry weather-- it's expected on Friday and Saturday. Melodies, do in fact linger, and there will be a chance for a thunderstorm on Sunday during the final day for merriment and song.
V2. Goodgawd-a-mighty! Up so many prunus mume. Pride of the Susquehanna. Pride of the Yankees. Land of the Pilgrims. Abide, abide.
V2. Abide indeed! Willow, don't you weep for me.
Shishikuigawa, Near Midstream/ erika is V1.
