Stone Soup Servings is a regular series for Oddball Magazine that features upcoming performers at Stone Soup Poetry, the long-running spoken word venue in the Boston area that has partnered with Oddball Magazine. Stone Soup Poetry now meets from 8-10 p.m. every Monday at the Out of The Blue Art Gallery’s new location at 541 Massachusetts Avenue in Central Square Cambridge, Massachusetts. The open mike sign-up at 7:30 p.m.

On October 20, Stone Soup welcomes newcomer DiDi Delgado, who will be taking advantage of the gallery’s new and larger space. She promises not only complimentary food for attendees but also a raffle with prizes to be announced. For newcomers, this night will be a great introduction to Stone Soup. For those who haven’t heard of DiDi Delgado’s work, her poetry in Oddball Magazine, both previously and today, serve as a fine introduction.



Spring inspires.
People, places and things like to bloom.
Blossom and burgeon.
Bright colors, blue skies
High pitched laughter, worries on a school vacation hiatus.
I remember this time last year, we didn’t know so much.
I never knew why it is
only some mornings
you can hear the birds sing
their songs.

Summer bursts
Booms with bodies
boobs and heat.
Usually in summer, I’m in heat.
And yes ma’am,
Sometimes this thing is simply too hot to touch.
I run laboriously through scalding sun kissed sand dunes
Stopping short
Out of breath from the wondrous thrill of falling in love with you
Into the midsummer’s night dream of us.

Into all of…

Fall approaches.
I stopped underneath this tree last night.
The autumnal colors of its leaves
caught the moon’s steady handheld flashlight
Beaming down from some other galaxy.
The shift to this new color was foreign to me.

I wondered in awe which was the truer color
Forest pine or fire place burnt sienna
I wonder when I missed your chameleon color change too.
The funny thing about leaves falling from trees
is that you’ll never catch them falling
if you do not mimic the tree.

But breathing.
Only action we need to take
Is to grow.
When we’re not still
we run the risk of missing
smaller pieces that leave gaps in our puzzles.

I will try to start something and finish it.
I will not rush to the finish line to say “I got nowhere first.”
Make your own lines.
Draw a circle around yourself
and know that while the leaves are falling
you are still

That’s where you will find you are love.
Where you will find
you are enough.

Winters used to bother me.
That’s when choices need to be made.

I prefer spring.
I begin again.