Friday, April 16, 2010

naprwrimo: april 16

when she walked in wearing blue-shadowed silk

3 comments:

Dot Hearn said...

farewell to cafe artichoke
by dot

we arrived at the space a little early
having eaten at pho van, just up the street,
followed by wine at a friend's home around the corner
cafe artichoke, tucked not so quietly behind artichoke music the store
was filled to capacity, a few vacant seats scattered amongst the dozen tables
our group of eight wound to the back
stood against the wall
listened to the musicians, passionate, on stage

the dimly lit room with the exposed high cedar ceiling beams
was warm, but with the night air tripping in through the crack under the door
half glasses of wine on tables, emptied bottles of beer
and sipped water covered the tables, along with flyers
for upcoming shows and cd release parties

one by one by two we dispersed among the crowd,
joining strangers at their tables, sitting on a ledge
and four of us replaced another foursome that left
as we waited for the childhood friend of our ringleader and her partner
to take the stage; the two of them making a 180 mile drive
to appear on stage for 30 minutes (though
they do have a concert up the mountain tomorrow)

each performer or duo before them thanked
artichoke music for the space
for providing this venue for folk musicians
for years and years and
it will soon be coming to an end

the rent has gone up and it's no longer self-sustainable
unless the ticket prices went sky high which
would conflict with the mission of the space -
accessible, affordable, folk music by and for everyone

an institution being forced out
or regrouped, they say online, they will not go away
they're just creating
a new model, a new way to keep folk music alive

but this space where other friends sang last month
which has been a home to honest live real music
is disappearing

and tonight we listened and waited to others until
Inspirado took the stage, their voices and guitars singing for us
holding us, rocking us, comforting us
in soothing shades of sea blues and greens

Deb Scott said...

Dot,

This certainly conveys what a special place this is for you and many others and I feel not only your loss, but mine as I will not have the opportunity to experience it, ah well, the times they do keep changing...

Love the last stanza,

Deb

Deb Scott said...

Gorge Journeys
by Deb

three times each week
sometimes more
i make the drive from
the bridge of the gods
to the bridges
of stumptown

somedays my trasitions
seem to occur without
any effort
i hand offer my dollar
and in a blink
i see the water and bridges
of the city i crave

other days
the journey feels epic
18 wheeled vehicles
become monsters to be outrun
and the miles
take their toll
tourists become terrorists
in the parking quest
at multnomah falls
and i wonder what
insanity leads me away
from my wooded home
safe but lonely

tonight was a good night
my homeward trek
soft on my senses
the light held until
it was time to stop
and offer my dollar
for my passage home

crossing that marvelous span
i was dazzled yet again
by the beauty
of a spring evening
and then
there was the moon
a sliver
lying on her back
holding the sky
in her cradled hands
and as the light
slowly turned its face away
the night swayed in
draped in her blue
shadowed silk

i sighed content
and grateful