Poetry

Poem: For My Father

Apr 23, 2014
Laurie James

FOR MY FATHER

My father said everything

when he whistled his way home

in the dust of a square evening,

that held the trail of a shooting star 

in the violet sky.

A Peter Pan in work boots, 

his cap set cocked-back,

his one-seeing eye tangoing 

to the tune of “It’s Only Make Believe, I Love You”

above the crunch of gravel underfoot.

He should have moved to the Crazy Mountains

worn a bowler

learned to play the viola 

Instead, he drew the bow of a welder

Featured Poets

Apr 15, 2014
Roger Adams

  Welcome to a special program for National Poetry Month.  

Centuries after the Greeks celebrated poetry readings as part of the original Olympics, poetry is alive, well and thriving.  From the classics to hip-hop and slam, people are writing and reading poetry everyday.  Poems, like little word pictures say so much in so few words. 

Thanks to the Aspen Poet’s Society the spoken word is heard year round at monthly live poetry readings.  One of the highlights of these monthly live poetry readings is a featured poet; sometimes local poets other times poets visiting to read their work.

Poem: Mnemosyne Forgets

Mar 5, 2014

The long bowed wood left marks on the hardwood floor,

so we tried to keep the rocker on a rug.

It didn't work and every house would have these streaks

where our rocking had stripped wax off.

Memory is a hesitant thing,

a thing best left on shelves for rainy days.

What troubles me is remembering,

remembering August ninth-

nineteen ninety five.

A boundary day, a before and after day.

He wasn't just a guitar player missing the upper bird digits of his wing-ed finger.

APR Special: Slam Poets at the Wheeler

Feb 18, 2014
Myrlin Hepworth's website

For the last month two poets have been in the Roaring Fork Valley working with students in Glenwood Springs, Carbondale, Basalt and Aspen.  Organized by the Aspen Writer’s Foundation, they held workshops on poetry encouraging, guiding and mentoring.  And, what they were about in these sessions; was slam poetry.

The poetry sessions culminated in public poetry slams, one of then at the Wheeler Opera House in Aspen last week (2-13-2014.)  We’re featuring some of the poems performed at the Wheeler and we’ve asked a local poet to guide us along as we listen.  Kim Nuzzo could rightly be called the Roaring Fork Valley’s own poet laureate.  Nuzzo is a published poet and co-founder of he Aspen Poet’s Society.

We will hear poems by the two professionals who led the student workshops; Myrlin Hepworth and Logan Phillips.   Also performing are three students;  Riley Marshall from Roaring Fork High School, Tibet Boyer from Carbondale Middle School and Karyme Lara from Basalt High School.

About Kim Nuzzo:

Kim Nuzzo is a local performance poet/actor who has appeared in many local productions with the Hudson Reed Ensemble: The Crucible, Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol, The Beats, Red Herring.  He also appeared recently in ACT’s 1776 as John Hancock.  He is President of the Aspen Poets’ Society and a Host/Cofounder of Live Poetry Night at Victoria’s Wine and Espresso Bar in Aspen.  He is the author of HolyFunk: Polaroids and Poems and is currently working on a new collection of poems: The Sayings of Twilight Jesus.

A new report says there isn’t enough natural gas in the Thompson Divide to make it worth drilling. But the industry argues there aren’t enough facts to say if the leases would be a bust…

A new marijuana task force is meeting for the first time today. The goal is to monitor the effects of recreational pot on the Roaring Fork Valley.

The City of Aspen’s utility wants to run on 100-percent renewable energy and its enlisted the help of a government laboratory to help them get there. Aspen will inch closer to its renewable goal when it starts taking power from a new hydro plant in Ridgway later this month.

Local teenagers are getting a lesson on slam poetry. Two performance artists are visiting schools this week, teaching kids how to write and deliver “spoken word” poetry.

Finally, a Durango biathlete is competing in Sochi tomorrow. Her story is a unique one - she owes her Olympic bid to her twin sister.

Valley Roundup - February 7th, 2014

Feb 7, 2014

Good afternoon and welcome to Valley Roundup, a review of the week’s top news stories in Aspen and beyond.

The Aspen Times’ Andy Stone and Aspen Daily News’ Carolyn Sackariason join us this week to discuss:

The death of a friend; Stewart Oksenhorn chose this week to take his own life.

The snow that keeps on coming; the wet heavy kind.

Aspen goes after homeowners who rent out their place and don’t pay any lodging tax.

The TSA goes fast-track at Aspen Airport.

Casa Tua is off the hook for its big-pour to a local drunk.

And on the Download with Rob St. Mary – Tracking the local Sochi connection. Also, robots writing poetry; the horror, the horror.

Its all on this week’s Valley Roundup.

Poem: Looking for Robert Frost

Jan 29, 2014
Jose Alcantara

The light in the desert comes on slowly

as though we need to prepare for it

or as though it is a gift given grudgingly.

At other times the edge of the world

begins in a blaze brighter than anything

we deserve. Last night I dreamt my father died

as we tried to find where Robert Frost wrote.

We were headed to a beach shack

on the other side of a concrete canal

when he jumped, trying to swim beyond

the surge that flowed toward land

as though Frost wrote with the power

Poem: My Mother's Things

Dec 29, 2013
Valerie Haugen

My mother's things...

in the very last of the death boxes:

umpteen beautiful crystal bottles filled

with exotic perfumes from foreign lands,

pounds of barbaric jewelry, ancient bones and stones.

A jug full of bells.

A jug full of bells...

some of them tongueless, voiceless.

Poetry...even a book of poetry- the poet being an old, dead lover

of my mother Wild Honey.

The belt she made at camp when she was fourteen.

My second grade report card...

Poem: Time Machine

Nov 5, 2013
Marjorie DeLuca

In the hours between dog and hyena,
they still serve lunch to a certain crowd.

He toddles in with his baggage:
a cane an oxygen tank a man-purse

an ample wife and her sister leading the way.
The machine that was the man is now

rusting, teeth rounded off the gears of time.
They take their time, as time is

all they have left, and with much animus
and screeching of sliding chairs

the women choose a table to our side.
He is not there. I am not here.

I know this man. Years of
running a business,

Poem: The Sayings of Twilight Jesus

Oct 9, 2013

THE SAYINGS OF TWILIGHT JESUS

Twilight Jesus was looking for a little home to add another notch in time. He was traveling by his soul, deep in his bones, to the wilderness of freedom. "I wait here where the band is tuning up. I love the music; it washes through me, my water. "

He had the spirit of a hummingbird, radiating or reflecting illumination. " But hey, sometimes the only joy that leaps toward me is the joy of grief. I can't get God to talk to me, not knowing has to be good enough. Praise the night, the dreams that safely cradle you."