11.14.14 (ish)

Hmm. It appears that Sunday is the new Friday – who knew?

Let’s call it a “Sunday Salon,” shall we? The Going Public Sunday Salon…that could totally work.

So what do we have in the Salon today…let’s see…a bit of Lawrence, Tom Jones, new spoken word and more original poetry. Grab your coffee, pop in the earbuds and enjoy!


Watch me, Hear I Go, by A is 4 Advocate


In Trouble and Shame, by D.H. Lawrence

Read by Xe Sands


Xe writes…

This week nothing PD appealed. Modern poetry seems to have claimed me for the time being and as I don’t have the permission to voice and release those, I thought it might be a good week to pluck one from the past and let it fly free again. And as I scrolled back through, thinking I knew what I was looking for, I came across this one, this perfectly exquisite piece from D.H. Lawrence that said, “Me.”

Broken record time, but it’s been quite the cycle for looking shame in the face and asking, “Where did you COME from?” A friend recently sent me this quote from Anais Nin: “Shame is a lie someone told you about yourself.” And that was the most profound statement I could imagine when I read it: shame…is a lie…someone told…me…about myself.

And in that moment, I thought, ‘I am done with shame. I am done.’

Would that it were that easy, but it’s a start. I think if there was one gift I could universally grant, it would be the lifting of the shame placed upon us by others, the shame used to control and oppress and subvert.

And this is one of those bits from Lawrence when we’re catching him unaware, as if he’s just talking to himself, wishing, hoping for things to be different. He’s not trying to seduce someone or belittle or tear down. He’s just tired and wants to lay the burden down.




Poetry Ode to the Untalented, by Phillip Laurence Carter

Mark writes…

Book 11 Chapter 3 of Tom Jones.

This is part of an ongoing project in which I will record and post one chapter per week of Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones over the course of four years.

In this chapter, Mrs. Fitzpatrick manages to convince Sophia to stay awhile at the inn, rather than heading straight on to London. Sophia agrees, with the secret hope that Tom Jones will catch up with them.

Categories: Uncategorized

11.7.14 (ish)

Wait…what do you mean it’s not Friday…or Saturday…wait, it’s Sunday? GAH!

I blame Daylight Saving Time!


Alright. Well, we’re eking in *just* under the virtual wire, but as it is still Sunday (and technically the weekend), we have not yet failed to deliver! Let’s see…what do we have on tap this week…oh! More spoken word from A is 4 Advocate, Wayne Gatfield is back, some Shakespeare from Rabbi K, a bit of Lawrence…and of course, Tom Jones to round us out.



Seven Seals (revisited), by D.H. Lawrence

Read by Xe Sands


Xe writes…

Wow. What a struggle this week was in terms of getting something decent to Come. Out.

This has long been one of my favorite hidden Lawrence gems…and by hidden, I merely mean hidden to ME. Came across it years back and loved it immediately.

So flash forward to this past week…

I’ll admit it…I was riding high this week. It was a good week – challenging, but ultimately good. And by Friday morning, I was fully in Lawrence mode – I felt, I don’t know, dangerous? A little wild? Like anything was acceptable, regardless of cost or reason?

So, feeling fairly full of myself, I sat down to record this. Let it sit a few hours, and listened…and…huh. Whatever magic I felt when I recorded them? Gone. So I sent out word that Lawrence wouldn’t be happening after all, and set it aside, feeling the stirrings of doubt.

Came back to it Saturday. No dice. Played with other poems, but it was all ash in my ears. The poem that came out well? The one in which Lawrence mentions struggling with his inner peace…the one that was too caustic to release.

In a bit of a fit, I listened to “Seven Seals” one last time…and there THERE – there was something there. This performance perfectly encapsulates the love/hate relationship I have with Lawrence, so why NOT post it? Why not post it, as the struggle it is? There are parts that sing for me, and there are parts in this performance that make me cringe, that stand in for Lawrence’s own ridiculous moments of grandiosity and forced intensity. Those moments whisper to me to open a recording window and Get. It. Right.

But no. I’m letting it stand.

I’m letting it stand.

So now that we’re going into our respective weeks, may all of us find a way to honor our struggles, find the beauty in them – the parts that really work, not just the parts that are tearing us apart.



Watch me, Hear I Go, by A is 4 Advocate

Changeless Silence, by Wayne Gatfield

Read by Wayne Gatfield

This is another two poems of mine with music.




Hamlet – To Be or Not to Be by Rabbit K. Poetry & Music


Tom Jones Book XI Ch 2, by Henry Fielding

Mark writes…

Book 11 Chapter 2 of Tom Jones.

This is part of an ongoing project in which I will record and post one chapter per week of Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones over the course of four years.

This week, we pick Sophia’s story after leaving Upton, with a mysterious pursuer. She’s relieved to discover that it’s another lady and her maid who are chasing her, and even moreso when she discovers that it’s Mrs. Fitzpatrick, who is Sophia’s cousin. They arrive at yet another inn, whose innkeeper fancies himself the smartest man around. He believes he’s sussed out who the mysterious ladies are, and that they’re Jacobites. By the end of the chapter, he’s decided that she must be Jenny Cameron herself, a folk hero Jacobite supporter who may well be a composite of several different women.

Categories: Uncategorized

10.31.14 (ish)

End of October.


No way.

Lalalalalalala – I can’t hear you!


Fine. It’s the end of October/beginning of November and my resistance to it doesn’t make it any less so. So welcome to November! Let us ring it in together – or nurse ourselves over our collective disbelief – either way, as the case may be. And we’ve got some awesome stuff on tap this week…spoken word from A is 4 Advocate, new PJ Carter, a musical poetry Prufrock mash-up…


When I Heard at the Close of the Day, by Walt Whitman

Read by Xe Sands


Xe writes…

So…you were perhaps expecting the next installment of “Bright Horizons?” *sigh* Well, some things don’t go according to plan.

Been a weird time around Casa Sands. This time of year is always difficult and strange…but this year in particular, I, as so many of those nearest and dearest seem to be…unmoored somehow. The things that have fed us in the past have lost much of their flavor. Guilty pleasures barely satisfy. And as it befits the season, perhaps it’s time to take stock.

No – I mean really. Really take stock, without a glass of wine in one hand and phone in the other, distracted, paying minimal attention to this stock-taking we’re supposedly engaging in.

So this poem…damn it sort of slipped in and asked me to notice it…and when I metaphorically looked up and realized that Whitman was essentially throwing down the gauntlet here, was basically saying, “Really? That bit of applause there and the doughnut in your hand – that’s what’s really doing it for your soul? Huh. Well, call me when you remember what matters…”

…well, I recognized he was right.

Image credit: Govind.salinger via Wikimedia Commons



Fuqq Next Lifetime, at Albany, NY, by A is 4 Advocate


Poetry Filing System, by Phillip Laurence Carter

It is a poem about a filing system apparently.




Prufrock Revisited – “Let Us Go, then, You and I…,” by Bryant O’Hara

This is the first segment of a new reading of “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot.

I’m learning new tools and new techniques to create a new reading of the poem in its entirety.

Hope you enjoy

This photo, “Place Pigalle” is copyright (c) 2012 John Henderson and made available under an Attribution 2.0 Generic license



Tom Jones Book XI Ch 1, by Henry Fielding

Mark writes…

Book 11 Chapter 1 of Tom Jones.

This is part of an ongoing project in which I will record and post one chapter per week of Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones over the course of four years.

As the start of yet another book of Tom Jones, Henry Fielding takes another chapter away from the story in order to discuss his personal feelings on his craft. This time around he chooses to focus entirely on critics. He compares them to slanderers, citing Shakespeare and Horace in his support.

Categories: Uncategorized


Cannot believe we’re cruising toward the end of October – hurtling, is perhaps more accurate. This week, we’ve got the start to a 10-part serial from a young writer, and as always, Tom Jones.


Bright Horizons, Part 1, by Maevyn Davis-Rackerby

Read by Xe Sands


Xe writes…

Embarking on a journey over the next 10 weeks…a dark one, as we join our unreliable narrator, Jax as they try to make sense of what’s happening to them, both inside and out, just what kind of place they’ve found themselves in, and what the hell is wrong with Bright Horizons.

Written by Maevyn Davis-Rackerby for the NaNoWriMo Young Writers Program in 2011, it’s my privilege to be allowed to try and do it justice.

Image credit: megan ann
hallway of dreams. nightmares






Tom Jones Book X Ch 9, by Henry Fielding

Mark writes…

Book 10 Chapter 9 of Tom Jones.

This is part of an ongoing project in which I will record and post one chapter per week of Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones over the course of four years.

This chapter follows Sophia’s pursuit of Tom Jones from her home to the inn at Upton, where we rejoined her. A short paragraph at the end details her father’s pursuit of her (and Jones).


Categories: Uncategorized


Switching our timing up a bit this week…and shifting to a more permanent “squishy” schedule. Life being what it is, with its pesky tendency to waylay the best laid creative plans, Going Public will now publish on Friday/Sat/Sun. So if you don’t see it Friday, rest assured that by Sunday, it will happen.

On tap for this week: a newcomer, 3 bits of original poetry and of course, Tom Jones to see us out.


Dictum, by kayemnic

Read by Xe Sands


Xe writes…

Been thinking quite a bit lately about damage – how past damage  in our lives continues to effect us long after the inner bruises have faded into funny little stories we tell our friends when comparing notes on our dysfunctional lives. But those stories have roots, and sometimes, they continue to bear poison fruit. We think we’re clear of it. We think it’s in the past, that we’ve named and claimed it, disempowered it, trivialized it so we can fold it away. But sometimes…well, sometimes we realize we’re still baking with poison apples.

So this one goes out to all those who’ve got that kind of damage buried deep, and are trying to disentangle from those roots.

My thanks to kayemnic for once again allowing me to record one of her powerful pieces. Full text can be found HERE.




Love Is a Light, by Wayne Gatfield

Read by Wayne Gatfield

A poem of mine with music.




i was born, by Susan Marie

Read by Tendai Mwanaka

i feel like
a delicate human
born without skin

the sky
my breath
dirt my feet
roots, veins
trunks of trees
my arteries and veins

i was born

knowing that i
was meant
to feel everything

from the kiss
of a lover
his breath upon
my cheeks
winters breath
diving deep
into my lungs
strong hands
upon my hips
so gently
lying down deep
in green summer leaves
of grass

making love
to me
is God
the Great Creator
through my cries

and i exalt
on heavenly high
for my mouth
is but an instrument
and my cries
are the same
as pain
as life
and death
and love
and loss
and gain

you see
i feel

and i was born

is everything

© Susan Marie



Tom Jones Book X Ch 8, by Henry Fielding

Mark writes…

Book 10 Chapter 8 of Tom Jones.

This is part of an ongoing project in which I will record and post one chapter per week of Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones over the course of four years.

This chapter takes the story back, and immediately picks up from Book 7 Ch 9, which I’m sure you all remember from February. Anyway, it deals with the immediate fallout of Squire Western discovering that Sophia has run away, rather than be married to Blifil. As with most conversations between Western and his sister, it devolves into an argument.

Categories: Uncategorized

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