The Red Velvet Cake Review

At Angel's.

A supper club on the west side.

I do a regular poetry thing here on Sunday nights as part of The Red Velvet Cake Review. The RVCR is Kavion Griffith's nu-lounge act which features Walter Davis on sax. Tonight Alex was on piano. The drummer was named Cal.

The Red Velvet Cake Review 2

Been performing as part of The Red Velvet Cake Review. The Kavion Griffith production features myself, Walter Davis on sax and a few other musicians and friends.

Alexander Burke on the vibraphone and piano, alternating drummers Cal and Matt, and most recently Mela Lee - a brilliant vocalist who sings with the serenity and cool of a Frank Sinatra. Mela, Matt and Alex are in Magnolia Memoir, a jazz-rock hybrid, more Rickie Lee Jones than Pat Benatar, but they mostly remind me of Swan's Way. An obscure reference, but check out their song "Soul Train"(a couple of versions below). For documentaion purposes, I would like to add that Marcas Johnson has played the piano as part of the review.

This is every Sunday at Angel's which is on Wilshire and 25th in Santa Monica.

Showtime is an early 7 pm.

.148

i'm that 40 something fly white guy
who dreamed to big and got too high
been lied too many times my size
john-holmes implosion, me capsized

i'm not stumbling around - but i'm not too far
never been busted or d.u.i. in the car
somewhat copasetic till the lightnin comes
my brain is opposable - just like my thumbs

i'm phat like dat
i'm ill like dat
i kill like dat
i'm white like dat

the voices in my head are pretty benign
they keep me up at night - but they help me write rhymes
there's pills and cures and ailments alike
you'll find me in the ward with the door that says "PSYCH"

and that's it right now, they'll be more later
the harder it gets the more it seems greater
acceptance and tolerance and working and tools
are the implements i seek and the things i don't use

The Floor [18]

Pix from The Floor (#18) at The King-King in Hollywood.

Me "poet-ing" (photo:by Mallory Bradley)

With singer J. Karen

With J. Karen and music director Walter Davis

With producer K.G. Superstar

Caught in a moment of pathos.

With dancers Kimberly Green and Vakisha Coleman.

Red Velvet Cake Review

.147

You're insignificant
and I hate you.

What you say,
and what you do
makes me realize
there's no god in the sky
and no pleasure on earth.

I did nothing.
I went nowhere.
The climb uphill
was full of terror and
hunger pangs and
roasted ego (ala king).

I am angry and ashamed and
You have every reason to ignore me.
I don't provide comfort or security.

If that's what you're seeking,
Rely on your parents.
Rely on your boyfriend.
Rely on yourself.

I will die alone.
And no one will care.
No one will notice.
No one will think twice.

Yet you're insignificant
and I hate you.

.146

You pop up in my life
Like a shadow
And dissapear
Into the dark
Without warning
Leaving me
To walk the streets alone

The dreams I sought
To live out
With you
Have become dark gray-
Mutating the beautiful colors
Of autumn
Into nightmarish
Consequential reality

I wish I never met you
The weight of my memories
The time spent together
Is ancient history
To get and keep you
Is an impossibility
Which I still cling to

To know you only slightly better
Than the rest of the population
Is my personal tragedy.
The locked doors of perception
Simply torture me now
Stirring up feelings
Of inadequacy-
suffering at the feet
of extreme beauty

.145

With your provisions-

red velvet pastry

tight against my face

I see the sugared filling and

inhale the coco layers.

You fed it to me -
I could taste the metal

feel it taste back,

and hear the muted *ting*

as it knelt on the lip

I delivered both
the myth of permanence and
the shine of the sun.

You were the whitest snow I'd ever seen,
with the blackest heart on

God's green earth.

I thought you were a treasure,
And just maybe you are.
I didn't want to find you cuz
I knew I couldn't fund you

The encounter
An obsession

You took over

My mind

Submitted - perpetuated madly
Co-workers, friends and

family twisted into the drama.
My odyssey.
My search for real love.

Trying to break free
From the bonds of you -
A real beauty but
I don't know how you learned

to treat me like you did.

The sickness still makes me wonder:
What would have happened
if we were together?

.144

Sinewy
And covered w snow.
Overgrown
Plecebic
And moderate
Hot under the collar
"it's too loud in this joint"
He cursed to no one In particular
From the depths of my eardrums
To the bottom of my soul
And he was right.

Almost too tender to touch
the swollen part of her.
Rested.
Relaxed
Spent.
Barely moving.
Hardly stirring.
The exhale is all I desire to hear
Exhale.
Exhale.
Don't ever stop.