MY FELLOW POETS
WE CANNOT ESCAPE OUR COMPUTERS .



Hello!

It's good to be able to talk to you again :) I have been away for so long to I find myself somewhat embarrassed to be back again .. Anyway, if this is the first you are hearing of me, or if you never missed my absence then please, only know this: BlazeVOX2k5 will be up and running in only a few short weeks . so tuned in for more updates . and if I owe you an email or you are waiting to hear about a submission, please thank you for your enduring patients and I'll be sure to return your message. However, if you would like to send a fresh email or just want to say hi - please do :)


BlazeVOX [books] NEWS

We are always looking for submissions !!! So please look over the current issue and if you think you fit here, please send an email to [log in to unmask] and of course we will only consider your finest writings .


Our first poetry prize is still going accepting submissions and is really quite a strong showing. Out of the 100 entrants so far entered we will need to have at least 150 to fully operate and pay the prize. So get your manuscripts ready, our judge is Kent Johnson and is sure to be a hoot. The hopes of this is to gather up funds to help promote our small press and make a larger splash in the poetry world. So if you would like to help a small press get larger, please join in for the fun. All monies will either pay the prize fee, publish the books and buy advertising space in poetry journals. So if you like BlazeVOX [books] and you just don't feel like being part of the contest, we are able to accept tax-deductible donations now! And if you don't like that just buy anyone of our titles. Our authors are among the best voices writing today.

Our in print titles are growing Antidotes for an Alibi by Amy King, is a finalist in the Lambda Literary Foundations 17th annual award for Lesbian Poetry. She's up against Adrienne Rich and Carol Guess, so good luck to her. For more information http://www.lambdalit.org/Lammy/finalists.html

Other Titles

==> VEL by Alan Sondheim
==> Quinn's Passage by Kazim Ali
==> Bhang by Ted Pelton
==> To Be Sung by Michael Kelleher
==> The American Godwar Complex by Patrick Herron


Advertising : We are soon going to begin running monthly ads in ABR so keep an eye out for us.
And if you would like to help please join our guerilla ad campaign, simply download and print out the PDF BlazeVOX [books] poster through any standard printer and post it all over. You too can be a sensible graffiti artist by placing our tag in your favorite coffee shop, 12 step meeting room, or even in your local methadone / needle exchange clinic. We will happily reimburse any and all staple costs incurred.


DELICATE LIBATIONS ON BECOMING INCOMMUNICADO

incommunicado (in-kuh-myoo-ni-KA-do) adjective, adverb

   Out of contact, either voluntarily or deprived of the right to
   communicate with anyone; in solitary confinement.

[From Spanish incomunicado, past participle of incomunicar (to deprive of
communication), from in- (not) + comunicar (to communicate), from Latin
communicare, from communis (common). Ultimately from Indo-European root
mei- (to change or move) that has given us other words such as commute,
mutual, migrate, common, mistake, and immune.]


I have been without a computer in the house for 3 and a half months. This, being the longest period away from the internet I have experienced in 7 years, has been an uncomfortable winter. So many things just happened that it is hard to begin describing, in a logical fashion how I came to be offline and endlessly tied to a stove.

The Dell broke down from a memory virus that killed our memory card. We saved all of our files and I began to feel unsafe on that machine. I felt empty. I could create nothing, or do anything. It was a mental paralysis of sorts. So the answer to that was a new machine. I work as sous chef (second in command) for a small luxury hotel in Buffalo, NY. The chef slipped down the stairs and re-injured his already hurt back. He was out for over 3 months and now just returning on light duty. So if you have any restaurant experience, you know that that means that I became the head chef and second all in one person. My days began at 4:30 to get to work at 6 and prepare a buffet breakfast then move onto ordering and preparing for a party that night. My day ended around 9 or 10 PM and then off to bed. This drained me, emotionally and physically. So finding a computer and getting online was just too much for me. I am sorry that this had to happen. I really came to miss the conversations on these lists and poetry in my life in general. It's very difficult to navigate poetry offline.

I did enjoy my time being the head chef. It was a coming of age, put me in coach I can win this one for the team, type of experience. I became burned out on restaurants a long time ago and went to college to get an accounting degree. I attended the Culinary Institute of America after leaving the Marine Corps, at that point, my life's dream. I loved that time in Hyde Park, NY. At one point I had it in my will that my ashes were to be scattered on colleges grounds. This was only one of the signs of my PSTD coming out, another was my personal motto of "Cook or Die!" A skull and crossbones generally accompanied the scrawl. But the point is that I burned out of a vocation that I loved since childhood. My mother tells a story of me when I was a baby crying if she changed the television channel away from Julia Child. I got to tell her that story too. I was in the first gulf war in January 1991 and in July I was in college. It was an easy transition as kitchens are militaristic and dictatorial so I felt comfortable. I never really had to deal with the things I did and saw while in the USMC. My method of dealing with stresses was varied sarcasms and general off-putting behavior to keep people away. I disappointed many people and I'm not always proud of who I was, and still can be. I graduated in 93 and went to the kitchens of NYC and then eventually found my way back home to Buffalo. Although I was a chef in some nice places I felt hampered by many factors that influence cooking as a business and not an art. From this dead feeling I strove towards poetry to fill that emptiness that cooking creates. One can only admire the art of well prepared food for minutes. Yes, there is larger window of time to be spent with food than with live music, but a recording can allow for the enjoyment of that particular moment to be relived again and again.

Now I am in a place where I can be as creative as time and motivation permit. It's a wonderful way to make money, most of our parties are small, around 20 to 40 guests, so we can get pretty involved with the dishes. Our menu changes nightly and our guest are prepared for an adventurous evening. Before Dana, the chef, was hurt I was comfortable in my place of being a sous chef. It allowed me time for writing and web work so it meshed well with BlazeVOX. I also have acquired a large set of kitchen gadgets that make me feel more like a chef than I ever have in the past. One cannot create without the proper tools. This goes too for poetry. My tools of computer and internet were gone and I could not do any of the things I needed to do. So too with making brioche at home. You just can't do it right on a cookie sheet. And too, at work I feel that I have over come many of the fears and dreads associated with being a leader. It's a good feeling but one I am glad to hand back to Dana and come back to my poetry.

And coming back, I come back with some money and a new laptop computer. I was basically unemployed for 2 years, there was some scattered sits of work that kept me fed. But now I have paid back a lot of what I owed and was able to set myself up with a nice refurbished laptop and wireless network. I can run all around the house and still be connected to the net. Ahh, it's a wonderful feeling to be here again and in a comfy chair with the TV in earshot. It's like being home again, in my home. So with the utility companies not on the front lawn threatening to shut us off, I feel very comfortable. Not enough to say that I can own a car, but enough to say that I am out of poverty and now in the soothing warmth of being working poor.

That has been my life up to now. I have made some wonderful discoveries about our craft from my time in the kitchen. Cooking is not poetry but it can be art. It is most certainly a craft where individual talents can bring out certain flavors that are hiding deep within food stuffs. Seasoning, temperatures, and time are all necessary elements in cooking and this too translates to writing even if I cannot place the words there to make my case. In any case I submit this poem for Spring to help me along in this.

Spring Poem
For José Martí





On the outskirts of a crumbling but still enchanting snow

The palm trees swayed green and the sea lapped the shore.
After a first course of lobster bisque, caviar and oysters; torn
limbs and other body parts littered the street outside the clinic
in Hillah, a predominantly Shiite area 60 miles south of Baghdad.
There is not enough time. It was perfect weather.

Piles of shoes and tattered clothes were thrown into a corner. Occasional
bursts of automatic weapons fire could be heard during the intermezzo.
A jazz band struck up a tune as Canadian salmon and caribou were served with wine.

I asked him how he got it home and he said he came in a
private jet and his pilot would mix it in with the dirty laundry

see also: cigar smuggling
see also: burnt-sugar lemon tarts

With the poor people of this earth I want to share my fate
        There is no such thing as free kittens




Best, Geoffrey



Geoffrey Gatza
BlazeVOX [books]
www.blazevox.org









Dear Poetry Contestant


Thank you for entering the First BlazeVOX [books] poetry contest. I have received your manuscript and I want to direct you to the BlazeVOX [books] website www.blazevox.org/blog to give an account of my poor old computer, it's sudden illness and desperate hospice stay. My role as a caregiver was tense and now being with my new computer is still a new experience. But my old computer wanted me to continue on and for that I will always love it and light a juniper scented votive candle for it once a week. I hope you will remember it in your own mindful way and think a pleasant thought over your evening coffee.

Best, Geoffrey Gatza

Publisher: BlazeVOX [books]