CRAIG CZURY Poems for CLOUDBURST

                                          ANCIENT TEXTS & RITUALS

CRAIG CZURY

At night sneak around to the tallest tree in the neighborhood

hang curtains on the hole for a door

nothing happens until it breaks

It seamed like picker bushes wrapped around me

they were pulling me in then I heard that noise again

it had dead birds and a dead cat in it

there was a sewing machine and bullet holes in the rusty car doors

the coal was hard on my shoes and newspapers from 1937 only worse

something was holding me back but the door was open

there were no steps to get down there only a broken window against the wall

we were sending messages over the pipe but I couldn’t get through

I was soaked and my shirt got ripped

it was near the projects there were chalk drawings

and what looked to be a ribcage

#00119

write a poem on the back of a kite

fly it as high as you can

ask a passerby to hold the string

just a minute

you have to go to the bathroom

you’ll be right back

never come back

#82020

between the space of being here but not really here

write a poem

take off your clothes and dive in without holding your breath

#05466

write a poem

across your lover’s belly with your tongue

record this poem on your answering machine

#37429

at night wander around your backyard

with your eyes closed

randomly reaching for and kissing the dark air

the words of your next poem

will spell themselves on a oui-ja board

Charles Rossiter Poem for Cloudburst

Ceremony at the 42^nd Street Library

First go to the information desk

cross the hall to 320

talk to the tall black woman

in the red dress

fill out the application form

complete with personal reference

not a relative

show traceable ID

sign another form and get a card

go down the hall to 316 and

ring the buzzer.

When they let you in

show the card

sign in again and state your purpose

take a seat and adjust the light

while the attendant gets your package

sign a final form

hesitate a moment when the box arrives

Then slowly

        s  l  o  w  l  y

untie the red cotton ribbon

fold back the left flap then right

then top then bottom

there.  .  .

in the rectangle recess

framed in blue

hesitate again

now

take out the five 10-cent pocket notebooks

and read

Kerouac’s own penciled hand

OLD ANGEL MIDNIGHT---complete

SCRIPTURES OF THE HOLY ETERNITY---complete

dream fragments play scenes

and other scribbles.

Copy a line you’ve never seen.

“The moon is a piece of tea”

now

hold the notebooks in your hand

let it all sink in.

Charles Rossiter—First published in Chronicles of Disorder

Martin Willitts Jr Poem for Cloudburst

All pilgrimages are exploring 

from the inside (the known)

to the outside (the unknown).

All journeys begin in restlessness

and end with wondering

if the end had in fact been reached.

From out of Light into darkness, and the return

or the staying in the new discovery,

we can all be "heroes" in our own stories,

with our own adventures. The question 

of the quest is always:

What have we learned along the way?

If we have learned nothing,

than is the journey worth it?

Isn’t it amazing,

migrating animals always return to the Source?

Isn’t it more amazing,

we do not follow the Always?

Martin Willitts Jr.

THIRD CLOUDBURST COUNCIL METAPHOR LIKE A RUNAWAY BRIDE

The approach to the Third CLOUDBURST COUNCIL is well underway. The Journey, Pilgrimage, Passage  has begun and the remaining questions about arrivals and wayward wanderings  are tales to be first experienced and then told. Each Pilgrim’s flag will make its way up the driveway hill and will be placed

in a gathering of colors and symbols, collective memory on a common breeze. 

Now, let me get this metaphor out of the way before I trip over it. I have been involved in small press publishing for many years and as part of that, what I am doing now with that experience is advising new people who want to start a print publication. One of the things I tell them is that most new publications die after the third issue.  The fourth issue is the most difficult one to produce. If you can get past that fourth time out, chances are you will be set-up for a nice long run (guess that means you’ll be hearing from this metaphor next year as well! I am already getting my back up thinking… “There will be a Fourth CLOUDBURST!”)

So my metaphor  for this year’s  CLOUDBURST COUNCIL is it is like the third issue of a small press magazine. The First Issue is a burst of pent up energy and ideas. Stuff that has been collecting for awhile and people who grasp the partly formulated vision pushing this urge to get the work out there.Any thoughts of the future are wildly optimistic and resources have been gathered for awhile so there is no thought of them running out. The Second Issue rides the energy of the First. Not everything saved up for it was used in the First Issue so that must be used in the Second and the beginning of recognition and feedback can start to be incorporated. Many of those in the First are also found in the Second and there are some new people. At this place probably the new people seen as fitting in with the original vision. Resources are still available and there are some cost improvements just because of knowing what is involved and how better to share the work.

The Third Issue is both a transition and a continuation. This was helpful to me for increasing my understanding of the process of organizing this year’s CLOUDBURST COUNCIL.  At the Third Issue

the original birth energy has been largely used up. What propels the work at this point is self-referential, the beginning of a life of its own. Not all the original people and pieces are still in place. Along with a sense of lost, there is interest and there must be growth (in the form of new people and people enthusiastic as participants). How strong the Third Issue is tells a lot of the future of the publication.

Coming back out of my metaphor, the upcoming Third CLOUDBURST COUNCIL is one that will bring together a grand collection of poets.  The opportunity of getting together for a third year is the chance to meet with friends, share our work and celebrate.  I look forward to discussing with poets the tides and times of the past year as well as having fun and learning a lot.

                                                             --Alan Casline