I’ve blogged about the
weird experience of finding journals
written by different alternates in the 1980’s and 1990’s.
Journals I have no memory of writing.
I’ve recently found a box of audio taped spoken word
performances by Rob Goldstein from the 1980’s.
I know intellectually that I am Rob Goldstein but it’s
the estrangement from that part of myself that makes
listening to these tapes so weird.
I stared at them for six weeks before I ordered
a cassette to mp3 converter.
It took another two weeks for me to use the damned thing.
I listened to a few of the tapes today and I’m shocked.
I have no memory of these readings.
In fact, I have no hard copies of some of the writing I
performed as Rob Goldstein.
Here’s a a short piece named ‘Stephanie’ from a public reading in 1984.
I was in my late 20’s.
This story about Stephanie may be true.
Written and performed by Rob Goldstein
(c) Rob Goldstein 2016 all rights reserved
spilt my guts
Now I’m alone
a lie that
Words and image (c) Rob Goldstein 2014
A friend of mine on
Flickr told me that he was toying with the idea of starting a blog for his poetry.
I invited him to post to my blog as an experiment so he can see how his poetry looks and feels on a blog.
Today I present “
by the dooth pattern” Harsubagh Khalsa
lips summer from umbrella
tieing spirally laces
granting the filament
hard deep suggest then
it doesnt matter stuff
it doesnt matter when
too much piruling
a scarry race
the scurry dance
mind beaming the
Image and poem are the property of Harsubagh Khalsa.
(c) Harsubagh Khalsa All Rights Reserved