may we all be heard
words are bells
let them ring!

Thom World Poet Austin, Texas, USA
Global Radical networker and activist for promoting the live Creative Arts,
at every possible opportunity, especially in his home-city, Austin, Texas, USA

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Retro Info Redux
thom woodruff 9:13 AM (51 minutes ago) to JackMcCabe Moon, June, Tune Sep8

I’ve been writing a long time. I used to type up original scripts for “The Man From U.N.C.L.E.” on my portable Royal typewriter. There are a number of giveaways in the previous sentence showing how long ago that was. Over the intervening years, I’ve written business letters, software user documentation, newspaper and magazine articles, short stories, and even a paean to Benbrook, Texas, that came close to qualifying as fiction. The one genre I’ve studiously avoided is poetry. I am not a poet. (Picture Richard Nixon striking his pose before boarding the Marine One helicopter to oblivion.) It’s true. Whenever I’ve tried, forced by optimistic English teachers who until they ran into me thought there was a poet in everyone, I failed dismally. No Robert Frost nor Paul Simon am I, nor even the guy who composed the roadside Burma Shave ditties . My poetry most closely resembles limericks and the graffiti in the ladies’ restroom at the House of Pizza in Ft. Worth. I always had a hard time understanding and interpreting poetry, too. It never said to me what it was supposed to say. A poem, supposedly a statement on the condition of humankind, to me was a commentary on fishing out of season in Bexar County. I dreaded each year when my teacher’s fancy turned to poetry. The poetry test always screwed up my average. Therefore, it was with resignation I approached last week’s meeting of the San Gabriel Writers League. Our speaker, a poet. I had to be there to take the minutes, so I couldn’t plead a 24-hour case of bubonic plague. I went, determined to make the most of it and just wait for the bell to ring—er, I mean, wait for the meeting to be over. Instead, I was blown away by Thom Woodruff, aka Spirit Thom, aka Thom World Poet, a somewhat less-than-sane Aussie who proceeded to tear down all my preconceptions about poetry and replace them with a new admiration for those who can put words together in that special way. Before I could hide behind my dignity, I was mimicking his gestures and repeating after him like a Moonie at a revival. It was fun, and more than that, I understood most of his poetry. It is cogent, clever, thought-provoking, and liberating. Thom performs his poetry. In another time, he would be the storyteller, relating tales worth remembering by firelight, holding his audience in the palm of his hand. The lucky attendees at our meeting were just as rapt, sitting with eyes wide, mouths slightly agape, laughing, gasping, and applauding. No wonder he’s also known as Thom the Circus. This wasn’t exactly my first literary rodeo. Yet I was blown away, totally, by this one man’s poetry. If you get a chance to see and hear him, drop everything, put the hamburger meat back in the fridge, and get there as fast as your little feet will go. He’s a must-see, can’t-miss fandango.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Old as fire,clear as ice,when Austin held its 2 day winter freeze we gathered @the Ruta Maya Trailer Stage in Bouldin Creek Food Court and listened to the songlines released from each skin cycle Babies in blankets held close as truth,smiled ,loved,beamed Mothers whisked them away when the cold bit sharp deep Circle formed off stage off mike ears and hearts opened as the failure of technology increased our humanity We were deeply drinking each other in-candles on table Bela's birthday and a new voice or two opening us again Because we value each of us more than gold. Because we heard secrets that had never been told Because we were warmed by each other despite the cold Paco smiled as he served HOT soup truth ,warm coffee and tea and we feasted upon a listening Paradise-every word heard and weighed-hearts and feathers,wings and swords in a circle under the stars by the fast traffic of South First we were primal and true,worthy and willing- we only went when time left us -singing!

JOIN US - COMING SOON! Wed Dec 12-AWESMIC AUSTIN DAY!Celebrate 11am-5pm Rock garden Zilker Park w/ANYAH D!
THRICE CAFE 6-9pm @909 west mary Hosted by MICHELE SOLBERG!
Th Dec 13-MERMAID POETRY@Belton Library 6-8pm BYO Mermaid Poetry
Sat 15-AWESMIC CAFE Dripping Springs 6-late Hosted by ANYAH DISHON
FULL ENGLISH CAFE 2000 Southern Oaks 6-9pm Farewell to ric williams(LITERA /CHRONICLE)
sun 16-WASSAIL! Spider House $15 @5.30pm 29th/Fruth-Mummers,magicians,imagination!
HOT MAMAS 2401 east 6th from 3-6pm/KICK BUTT 5775 west airport 7-10pm

posted my magic jack