Ghost Town Poetry Open Mic

Featuring Dane DeLloyd

Hosted by Christopher Luna and Toni Partington of Printed Matter Vancouver

7 pm

Thursday, February 8

Open mic sign up begins at 6:30 and closes at 7

Angst Gallery

1015 Main Street

Vancouver, WA 98660

angstgallery.com

Dane DeLloyd is an actor/poet/pianist/artist extraordinaire who has performed coast to coast in many different venue’s and formats. On the East Coast he has opened up for acts such as The Roots, The Pharcyde, Faith Evans, and the Last Poets. On the West Coast he has played every tall monster (i.e. Frankenstein, Shrek, Zombie, Ghostface Killer and others) at Universal Studios Hollywood four out of the last five years. He also custom designed T-shirts for several mazes at Hollywood Horror Nights in Los Angeles. Dane has self-published multiple chap books as well as two musical CD’s: 100% Organic Music and Serumade Adabeigio. 100% Organic Music includes over twenty years of original material. Serumade Adabeigio (literally translated as “the healing kiss”) is his debut classical/jazz solo piano recording. He has also promoted diversity in the community working with organizations such as the University of Pittsburgh and the Heinz Foundation. His works have been performed in the Andy Warhol Museum as well as the National Poetry Slam competition. His photography is currently on display at the Waddell & Reed building in downtown Vancouver, and in limited edition photography books such as N.Y.C. (2010).

Serumade

by Dane DeLloyd

Number one. water tension:  the last drop to dissipate and splash

or encircle meniscus or slide down the side of a glass

aside doing dishes after grits and bacon

lovemaking that we choose not to mention.

Number two. Total stranger love: it was totally strange love,

only strangers could share the unfamiliarity of compartmentalized air

as out of the corner of side ways you stare

Not accidentally that you were looking at their love.

Looking at their love there. It’s like

Number three. Grits and bacon.

Number four.  Habitdashedbaby: she drew in close to cuddle

through inspiration she never knew

about the places she will grow

or how much she grew… has grown… is growing…

Number five: gelatinous (dispeller)

she didn’t understand daddy’s self-doubt that he had

left her the genes to stand out

and now we only cradle her until she goes forward

to educate the labelers

she’s not of mixed blood

only mixed love… loving her always… loving them always… just because.

Number six:  tomato blossoms: who transplanted buds immune

to the gloom.  They love the rain and gave yellow blossoms in turn that smelled fertility fuzzy fragrant and sweet fruit to turn into sauces.

Number seven: Burning bush: it started between the behemoth desert sanders and the sawdust encircling the wind to show gust and test your faith sho-nuff’ it’s the wilderness against your nature… you pushed until the words were given back the water tension from the burning bush

Number eight: already here: The road was winding up to the mountain tops,

the van was packed out so there  was no time to stop and see where the sludge stopped, and the clouds met the steep. I had love for the dregs where the industry seeps but now I live here with the rivers run deep.

Number nine: invisible tank : Two waterfalls folded in the pond the landscape the culture the knowledge the genre’ routed genes rooted in between the know-how of how unknown we are.

Items numbered of human SKU.  Skewn into too soon

being again residue

pledging on cue.   All that you have left… patience.

Number 10:  patience for Dane:  I felt the loss of innocence, a child punished for being beautiful and talented. Could I take those scars away for you

…only if I could…  now we both heal together and apart

we always took beach strolls when you couldn’t walk

and now we pick up phones and don’t have time to talk about Love.

And the way in the life we may have just missed.

Life could be gone quick in a wind gust, a heart lust or a trip.

But for now we are still kept apart left adrift…

Number 11:  adrift:  we wound up at the beach

but someone had already put circles in the sand,

we only had to follow the surf pounding

to re-create the sea level surge,

my son just met the ocean

stranger love

…beyond words.