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 recently partnered with Oddball Magazine. Stone Soup Poetry meets from 8-10 p.m. every Monday at the Out of The Blue Art Gallery at 106 Prospect Street with an open mike sign-up at 7:30 p.m.
On February 10, Stone Soup welcomes back former Poet Populist Toni Bee, who has forged a bond with Oddball Magazine as part of it’s new podcast. She also has work forthcoming in Spoonful and will be on the upcoming Oddball Magazine panel this May at the Massachusetts Poetry Festival. Read her poem below and join us this coming Monday.
The beads jiggle under the pot of my arm like boiling water
I hear / it sings it dances / and it sings:
I know the books I know the books I know the books of the books of books
My alarm of baby’s bible versus reminding me there is a God and he alarms us
Matthew mark Luke John acts of apostles roman cori corin Galatians
Always wanted to know it by heart / those souls saved a bit mor’n me – Always wondered how they remembered His books / always knew my concentration was an artist stubbed and born of its own will – refused to commit the salve to memory
Purse of beads yells out a word for me to remember for me to know some unseen got the back and front of me as I roll upon this caked river of tar/ as I toddle over graves of those forgotten onna street full of / prospects near a broad way of burning lies
Titan philemeon Hebrews and james peter peter paul john john JuuuuuuuuDe revelation of Johnnnnnn
Backing up to the basics this daughter songs vibrates / the Lord in me reminds e there’s no need to smack whispering wenches who cause destruction / reminds me of the waste of violence remember to keep peace-ing cause…
I know the books I know the books I know the book of the book of books
There once was a town it seemed that was always cold. Even when it was warm it still was always cold.
The people were mean. The people weren’t green. The people weren’t clean. They all forgot their dreams and no one could sleep.
Not even sheep, could make them dream. They all had forgot there meaning, and what it meant to be free.
They lived their lives as shadows. they lived in poor man castles, some were drunk and staggered, and some were slaves in shackles.
They all had forgotten, what once was their motto,— to live in darkness, you could never cast a shadow, and in the darkness, shadows never follow
and when the light shines from the sun in the seasons, whether frost bitten hands, or those wearing mittens, the sun always shined on the ones who asked for wisdom
and one did….the lonely boy on christmas.
and this lonely boy just wanted one thing for christmas, a dog or a kitten, wrapped up with a ribbon, a bright blue ribbon. If he had a dog… he could pet him with his mittens and watch him chase pigeons, and play fetch with the children.
But it never happened, no gifts were given to him on this christmas.
or any christmas.
there he sat in the town of castles and shadows, where the cold seemed to sting, everyone and everything.
and he began to reminisce of his families last christmas, the last time he was given a kiss on his head, and that warm feeling he had, and the last words ever said by his dad.
“you must live by yourself we can no longer take care of you”
and he said to them “I’m just a boy…what do you expect me to do?”
but his father and mother, they didn’t love one another, and they didn’t really mean to say what they said, so one day they both got into their cars and left.
But before they left they both kissed him both on the cheek, and said
“I’m sorry son, that we have to leave. Here are the keys this is your very own castle. And never leave, always stay in the shadows. We will always be with you, but we must leave and we hope for your forgiveness
and then they had left the lonely boy on Christmas.
At the same time there was a young widow, who always sat by the window, with a sad glow, waiting for her husband to come home.
He and her, also lived in this world.
The world that was mentioned in part one, a world of no fun, where noone could smile in fear of being stung. because the cold was too cold, and some were too poor to buy coats, and besides,
the castles were hidden by shadows, and moats protected by ghosts, but still there was hope that her love would come home. and every day she wrote from a journal
that was given to her, from her husband who had disappeared, in the cold of the winter, and made her from married and happy, to a way too young widower.
Her name was Rosaline, and she was only eighteen when she found the man of her dreams. But one day he left to go to the store, and was never seen anymore, and
people had said that he had gone missing, in a cold storm, on a frosty Thanksgiving, and they stopped searching after a few weeks, cause noone could survive out in the
cold on those peaks. But Rosaline, never stopped looking out that window, till one day it started to snow. and then it suddenly stopped. And out from they sky an angel just dropped.
Before I tell you how the angel dropped, and why the snow stopped, we must go back to the spot where the boy sat patiently, waiting for the day, when his family
would come back, and how all he wanted was that dog for christmas, a little dog wrapped up with a bright blue ribbon, but really
gifts were not on his wish list, just a little slice of happiness, outside of all that darkness
That day the boy decided to leave, he said to himself, I’m going to get a tree, so he left his castle and stepped out of the shadows, and headed to the forest outside of
the meadow, and began a long walk out of the darkness and into an even darker forest. He could have went left, and went towards the shore, he decided to go
north, and ventured forth towards, the forest and the trees, and the bright north star. He knew little of where he was, but it was better then where he would be, and
besides it was christmas he wanted a tree.
Before he left, he dressed in his warmest clothes, hat and coat, and scarf to protect his nose, and the only possession he had with him, was a backpack of provisions,
and a compass, and a map. And off he went, and took his first step out of the darkness, while in that same town a widower wept.
Oh Where did he go, got lost in the snow? She sang to herself, while she sat by the window. Oh where did he go? And when will he return, to give me his love, I so desperately yearn”
She repeated these lines, like she was hypnotized, the saddest moment in a beautiful life. She was only 23 when he said good-bye and went out into that cold november winter, and was never seen alive, but keep faith good reader, a good love never dies.
“Oh where did he go? When will he return? why did you leave me, it wasnt your turn.” She sang this song in morning, she sang it still mourning, and that was when she realized, that her eyes were not blind, and in her heart she believed he was alive.
At the same time she sang by her window in that empty house, the compass was pointing telling the boy to go south.
But the map said that the meadow, was the way to go, but his heart told him to follow the star, and into the dark, he ventured in, to the deep forest, where
the trees lied there in.
Well dear reader, you must be weary of me, so let me tell you how the boy found his tree.
And also a brand new family.
It starts where we left, with the boy’s lonely trek, and ends, well were not quite there yet. So the boy began his climb into that deep forest, while the angels sang to him,
this simple chorus. Follow the star son, follow the star, follow the star son, follow the star. Yes, the boy was lonely and scared, for sure, but in his head and heart he
was strong and secure. People would leave him, for that he was sure, but never his family, that scar was the worst, and his head began to hurt. But before the tears
started to fall, he took a step and all of a sudden he was not by himself, and while he was down and thinking about life, he somehow had wandered onto the thinnest of
Oh reader, Oh me oh my, What did this boy do on that thinnest of ice. He walked oh so carefully, and he could hear the ice creak, and then there was the crack in the
ice he could see. He thought to himself, dang if I wasn’t thinking about all my problems, I might have seen this coming, and i could have done something, instead
of being stuck where I am, and then something happened.
The ice cracked, and splintered
and cracked, and splintered and cracked,
and the ice fell underneath his feet, and the boy was suddenly over his head, and while under the coldest degrees, he began to see,
Christmas wasn’t about getting presents or trees, it was about being happy. He was under the water gasping for air, trying desperately to be freed from a horrible death indeed ,
then at this moment
a hand reached out to him. And now enters the man, Jim, the widowers husband.
Hey Kid!! Hey Kid!! Can you hear me? Grab my hand! Hey Kid!! Hey Kid!! Can you hear me, grab my arm, I’ll pull you in. That was the voice of the widowers husband.
All the boy could hear was a muffled sound, but saw the arm, and tried desperately to get out. He grabbed the strange hand that had come from above, and Jim pulled
him out with the strongest of tugs. Jim pulled the boy off of the ice, and made sure that he was alright. Can you hear me kid?! Can you hear me?!
But the boy was barely breathing, cold and shivering. What could be done to save the lonely boy on Christmas?
Jim started a fire with some sticks around him, and hoped and prayed that something could heal him. But as the fire grew stronger, soon the boy breathed in, and looked into the eyes of the man that saved him.
And at this very moment, the widower was sleeping, and dreaming what seemed to be the same thing. It was about a boy who fell on a dark night of the thinnest of ice,
and her husband was surely alive, and saved this boy’s life.
The widower hadn’t left her house since her husband had disappeared, but she had to leave, her heart was telling her so, that she had to go, out of the darkness and
back into that snow. And as she left, she took a deep breath, and that was when she realized for the first time her self, that the darkness she lived in, this town, of castles
and shadows, there were more places to see, like the place in her dream. She visioned a stream, lit up by a bright star, and there she ventured out into the dark.
And there she sang.. My heart tells me to follow my dreams, and I will sing this song until he hears me. So she began singing. My heart tells me to follow my dreams,
andI will sing till my angel hears me. And just like that, the star lit up the whole place,
and though they were far apart, she could see his face. By the place in her dream, right by the stream, where she would find her Jim, and where she found…..me.
Yes I was the lonely boy on Christmas, but now that I have grown, I am no longer alone. My family, Rosaline and my father Jim, we live outside of the darkness, where the shadows live. And though you must find your own way, and sometimes follow that dream, to get the biggest tree, or play station three, all you really want is a good family, and maybe a dog. Like the dog that I have. But really in the end a mom and a dad, and people that love you. And believing that the right star will shine above you.
So there you have it.
Merry Christmas to all of you, and all of yours.May love and light unlock all your doors.
Yes, thats what I am going to talk about today. Bright Eyes. Why has Bright Eyes gotten such a bad rap with indie rockers. I ask anyone and they always say “I hate that guy, his voice is horrible.” or write it off as “emo-fag-shit” as someone said to me once. Actually it was my best friend Tuck. Now that I recall that. Anway still completely ridiculous. If anyone believes that they need to take a look into theirselfs and think, wow. Why would i say that? Where does ignorance come from? No man! Conner Oberst’s music is amazing. His poetry rivals Leonard Cohen. (second thought that is up for debate, and I am debating it as I read this over again.)
Alright, I remember when I first met my friend Andrew Borne. Andrew is a great friend but I am afraid we have lost touch over the years. We use to play music together, get drunk, and puke. Or walk to the Hollywood Express in Salem, and get a rad movie like Dogs of War or Killer Klowns from Outerspace. Or attend movies at my old movie theater. I saw the first screening with all that crew, and we would all bring copious amounts of PBR and watch movies. One day, we watched a B Film. The manager his name was Adam, and we used to drink and watch Something Weird Videos, which I always thought were very rad. Anyway, Bright Eyes reminds me of Salem. But that’s not where the story ends. When I first met Andrew I went to his house, and he was playing Fevers and Mirrors. And that was it, that album was so raw, so wonderfully fucking fantastic, that I couldn’t believe it, the album changed my life. Now, noone digs Bright Eyes like I did. I bought all his records. Letting off the Happiness. Holy Shit, man that was an amazing record as well. I saw Bright Eyes the first time with Andrew, Jess his girlfriend, my friend Tim, Conrad, and his brother (I think).
The show was at The Somerville Theater, now I live right down the street from there, but then I was living in Salem. The Good Life opened up for them with Mayday. First time I had ever heard any of these awesome bands. Anyway, I don’t want to lose my point, but I am getting tired. Well i have to finish this thought.
People might not like Bright Eyes anymore, I don’t care I still do. Conner Oberst is an artistic genious, and it is cool and weird to see myself growing up as he is as well. Now he has tons of money, and I work at a restaurant, but anyway regardless, the music is sick.
Reminds me of my friends,
I like the lyrics
smart chord changes,
Conner’s frail yet courageous voice…yeah what?
Alright listen to the album Fevers and Mirrors
Then listen to Letting Off the Happiness
then listen to Lifted
Then listen to Digital Ash In a Digital Urn, it will get you all kinds of fucked up.
Just saying that I don’t get why they hating on Conner? Is it cause his name is Conner, and not MUSE! By the way Muse sucks worse then Coldplay did when they tried to impersonate Radiohead. I mean seriously Muse i can respect for their music, but the songs are lame, and his voice blows.
Please I am open to your thoughts and comments. but seriously Muse Sucks.
I just woke up from a dream, it wasn’t a bad dream, just a dream, where you wake up, and can’t get back to bed. I just smoked my first cigarette, and am watching the sun come up. Through my windows, I can see little bits of a nice sunrise, with orange blue and a little yellow. The trees are bare, but soon there will be leaves on them. For some reason, this got me thinking of Grafton, and growing up.
Now today, you are going under the knife, gonna fix that bad hip of yours. I know you might be nervous, so I wanted to write this to let you know things will be fine. I had surgery on my arm once, it was over and done with, that was when I was 17. But remember when, you know what I’m talking about, when I was 6 or 7, maybe 8, and broke my head open.
That was a site to see, blood all over the streets. I was with Craig, remember? Man, we’ve been through alot of times together, Nick. I remember vaguely, cause I really have no memory, the first time my family met yours. It was when I was 4 or 5 years old, and we drove up Westview, I think, and I met you for the first time. Ever since then. we have been brothers. The picture of you as a little kid on your page, got me reminiscing, about you know, the first day of school, with you, me and Eve. It got me reminiscing of playing baseball at Robbie’s house. It got me reminiscing about how crazy your record collection was, down in your basement, where we would listen to all those records. Sadly, It also got me reminiscing of when Craig’s father passed.
But know here we are, still keeping in touch after all these years. Going to karaoke, watching trains. Listening to the same old records, now old enough to appreciate them. So, anyway I guess that’s why I’m up right now, and writing this.
I just wanted to write this down, cause I was thinking of you, and Grafton, Craig, Eve, Horseshoe HIll. All that. I just wanted to say have a speedy recovery, you’ll be fine in no time. I wanted to let you know I was thinking about you. Though I lived in Mansfield most of my life, Grafton will always be my home. Get well bro.