Friday, December 22, 2017

FANTASIE FOR A MARATHON MAN





FANTASIE FOR A MARATHON MAN

Here now we Stand 
as Autumn Takes the  land
And living is  hurried now, oh
Hush, Hush, Hush.
Hush, Hush, Hush.

Posing for pictures now, 
Leaves swirling, I am sound  
Of longing and Hope, oh
Hush, Hush, Hush.
Hush, Hush, Hush.

Little One, oh why this sorrow?
"For biting Cold shall flow tomorrow!"
The snow is coming, snow is coming
Hush, Hush, Hush.
Hush, Hush, Hush.




Let me take your hand,  
You’ve nothing left to do
Stars shall light the way to wonder 
Carrying you through
To a  Marathon A Marathon
Of Melancholy Winter Too.


I Shall Take Your Hand,  
and we shall sing by the fire       


Poems and stories and thoughtful hours
Happily In Your Arms through
The Marathon, A Marathon
The Marathon Of


MUSIC! Sweet Music, Inspire, 
Inspiring LOVE!  
Sweet Love,  
 Returning, returning to
Spring!

Sing now for the marathon man
Dropping notes as slow as we can
Gather them
From the night sky
Like stars
Falling to  silent ground.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

An Update with a Poem

Hello, my friends!

I know it has been a bit since I've posted. as you can imagine, we have been extra busy with "Spy v Spia." And that's the thing about life: it's busy. Ten years ago, being busy was a virtue. Now it just feels like some antiquated, bizarro indulgence, and by indulgence, I don't mean of the fun decadent chocolate variety, but like some sickness and since I wanted my beloved "Spy v Spia" to be the OPPOSITE of that illness of our culture at this moment, I just let myself be as present and focused on THAT as possible!!

And soon we will have updates for you. :)

But for now, I did want to drop a note and just send a few other updates and a poem.

What I am reading:
-The Taming of The Shrew. I just finished Act 3, wherein Petruccio marries Kate in horrifying fashion.
    In light of the #MeToo movement and Weinstein, Franken, and the President....
    This play takes on a new and interesting relevance.
    I used to LOVE the banter betwixt Kate and Petruccio but HATE the moral values therein.
    I'm reading it now for research on the next project I want to write, and I'm constantly shocked to find myself laughing.
    And I guess this is why we still read ol' Will. It's still so f***ing relevant.

-Lincoln in the Bardo
   Just started it.So far, only a few chapters in, I am blown away by its unconventional narrative style, its beauty, and honestly, I'm so happy to read a book that doesn't assume I'm an idiot reader. (Sorry, modern publishing.)


What I am watching:
 -"Three Billboards Past Ebbing, Missouri"
  I mean, just, wow. Wow wow wow wow wow. If ever there was any wonder whether or not Frances McDormand is a national treasure, and I don't know how there could be, THIS ensures it. She is incredible. But not just her- this whole film. I've long loved Martin McDonagh, the filmmaker, but THIS is a real beauty in the ripening of his work. I am so inspired.



What I am singing:
 -just sang an online concert to raise money for victims of the Thomas fire here in SoCal. All proceeds go to the Ventura County United Way and there's still time to help! Every video share and we will donate an extra $1 to help the victims.
 -prepping for auditions. Up next? I'm superstitious, so I don't want to say unless I book something, haha!





A poem I wrote yesterday:


12.9.17
Been a long time, then, since I have been myself
But as the moon, cut in half, smoking like the fires eating up the cliffs of the west
Reminds me that I have not been my self, it seems, too,
That the stars in population of the firmament of night
And the bright white against dark indigo ignite
In my own body the sole of truth which is-
I have never not been. Myself.

So, too, I wonder, cold air poisoning my ears,
Airs to which I listen but do not hear,
Who is this many selv’ed person, then?
Now a fool, then a sage, ever always a woman.

I am divine she, divine three in one,
Ancient, fecund, life everlasting.
The remembrances of all story pulsating through my hoary
Bones, hearkened as a moan, orgasmic moment of glory
Of some long lost couple, some prehistoric child
Suckling the milky stores from my breast, until I’m wild

Again.

Joy, sticks, goddess, marrow.

The things of life am I.

-Erin


This pic was taken by Diana Delzio of Modern PR after Carlo and I won "Best Screenplay" at the Catalina Film Festival. If I get to it, it will be our Holiday Card photo! If I don't, then, this is it! Happy Holidays! eek.

Love,
Erin
the poet, the muse, the comedienne-
the singer, the writer, playing in her garden
of stars and whimsy and stunts and action.


"Who knew Linda Hamilton, Bette Midler, and Anne of Green Gables could be wrapped up in one package?"
-a recent casting director, after talking to me for a few minutes


THE USUAL (An abstract sound meets iambic pentameter work)

  The Usual The stink. The plink and clink, so rinky-dink, Our winkless cries went down the kitch’n sink. Oh, strum und drang. D’you k...