Please join us for the second installment of Long Beach Notebook on Saturday, May 13th at 8 pm in the city of Long Beach for readings by poets Jen Bervin, Jen Hofer and India Radfar. Bring food, drink or just a willingness to listen. Long Beach is approximately 35 minutes south of downtown L.A. (traffic permitting) and our house is located on an island. A real live island replete with canals, gondolas and cascades of night blooming jasmine. Sometimes the gondoliers sing opera. For real.

JEN BERVIN, poet and visual artist, is the author of a non breaking space (http://www.uglyducklingpresse.org/clouds/pages/intro.html), Nets (Ugly Duckling 2004) and Under What Is Not Under (Potes & Poets 2001). Her work has been published in Aufgabe, Chain, Denver Quarterly, Fell Swoop, Five Finger Review, How2, Insurance, Poets & Poems (a collaboration with Alystyre Julian), and Web Conjunctions. Bervin has received a BFA and a Presidential Merit Scholarship from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, an MA in Poetry from the University of Denver, an Edward M. Lannan Prize from the Academy of American Poets. She teaches an Advanced Poetry Workshop at NYU, co-curates Pratt's Friday Forum Reading Series with Brian Blanchfield, and directs the writing internships for Writing for Publication, Performance and Media at Pratt Institute.
JEN HOFER’s recent publications include Sin puertas visibles: An Anthology of Contemporary Poetry by Mexican Women (University of Pittsburgh Press and Ediciones Sin Nombre, 2003), slide rule (subpress, 2002), and the chapbooks lawless (Seeing Eye Books, 2003) and sexoPUROsexoVELOZ (translations of poetry by Dolores Dorantes, Seeing Eye Books, 2004). Her next books will be a full-length translation of Dorantes’ sexoPUROsexoVELOZ, forthcoming from Kenning Editions, a translation of Laura Solórzano’s lobo de labio, forthcoming from Action Books, and a book-length series of anti-war-manifesto-poems, titled one, forthcoming from Palm Press. Her poems and translations can be found in recent issues of 1913, Bomb, Bombay Gin and Primary Writing. She lives in Los Angeles, where she teaches poetics, works as a court interpreter, and is happily a founding member of the City of Angels Ladies’ Bicycle Association, also known as The Whirly Girls.
INDIA RADFAR is the author of The Desire to Meet the Beautiful (Tender Buttons), India Poem (Pir Press) and Breathe. After earning a B.A. at Middlebury College in 1990, with intermittent studies at The Naropa Institute and the Aegean Center for Fine Arts, she came to live in New York City, encountering the large community of poets there through The Poetry Project and other reading venues. From 1992-94, she gave instruction in poetry to children in Bushwick, Brooklyn, which led to her present collaboration with anthropologist Jenny Fox on a book about the oral poetics of children. An extended stay in India followed by the death of her father, author and scholar of comparative religion, Lex Hixon, forced Radfar into a new space with her writing. Her first book, India Poem, published in 2002, bridges her personal world with that of the country for which she was named. In 2003, she read at the Renaissance Society of the University of Chicago, in conjunction with an Indian filmmaker. A former resident of Woodstock, N.Y., she currently lives in Los Angeles with her husband and son.

LONG BEACH NOTEBOOK is located at the home and offices of Palm Press:

143 Ravenna Drive
Long Beach, CA 90803

For those of you who made the trek last time, I promise that citywide partygoers for the Naples Island boat parade will be home watching American Idol. It should be an easy trip this time, something like driving from Chinatown to the West side of L.A. The boat parade was a holiday thing. We will never do that to visitors again!

Depending on where your departure point is, directions are best found here: www.mapquest.com or call: (562) 434-0789

from WLA:
405 S to 7th St/22W- L@ light- R@ next light - L on Ravenna- park where you can but not at Rite Aid, they live to tow cars away.

from D&C-town:
5S to 605S to 7th St/22W and rest as above.

If you want to maximize your car time and see the sights, take the 110 S through the port city of San Pedro, follow signs for Port of Long Beach (the exit gives some route called 47- I think) follow this over 2 beautifully lit bridges through the twin ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach and follow the 110 S to the end. Keep going straight. Proceed forward through downtown Long Beach on Ocean Blvd. Continue on to 2nd Street (there will be a slight curve to the left). Go R on Ravenna. Park as above.

There is also a truly FANTASTIC bookstore in downtown Long Beach called {open} books. Somewhat utopian in nature, in light of our times, with independent bookstores closing all around us (they opened 2 years ago and are thriving), {open} is a staunch supporter of independent publishers; Palm Press books can be found on their shelves. {open}books is located at 144 Linden Avenue, left off of Ocean. Near Linden and 3rd, the bookstore will be on your right. (http://accessopen.com/) They close at 8pm on Saturdays.

Please forward to others whom you think might be interested.

Mark your calendars and see you soon!

questions? call me or write-

next month:
Walter K. Lew
Rita Wong
and more...6/10/06...8pm


your soul, my love,
lost something when you lost it,

jet black into black,
love fell in colors.
black holes
unwind the sky.

our feet rest on them,
mesh thousand thousands and thousands of stars

how long your kisses mean
I long for to mean
how many times already

I want to lose my soul into the boundless
and the world to return to me, already flowers,
O, I die among you!
They suffocate me with you.

I would like to confuse the threads ending around me,
confusing myself, you

In the Evening

at one time I had to sing - and I did not know why
I cried nevertheless
in the evening bitterly,
song, cry, pain rose from all things
circulated, circled me,
entered me, emerged

the end of the world cries in the world,
as if god rests, having died in the war
and the shade falls down heavy as a grave

Come, we want more near to hide itself...

Life lies in all hearts as in coffins.
We want to kiss ourselves deeply -
life pounds longing into the world,
and longing, we must die.

the fog wraps day completely
in the fog all worlds meet
hardly hanging as drawing shade pictures.

Like for a long time no heart was mild to mine... The world cooled off, humans bleached. - come pray with me - God troestet me. Where does the Odem, which yielded from my life, stay? I touch homeless together with the game through bleach times dreaming - I loved you. Where am I, if coldly the north storm roars? The shy animals from the landscape dare themselves and I before your door, a bundle way Erich. Soon tears away-rinsed all skies, at their cups poet its thirst satisfying also you and I. My blue piano I has at home a blue piano and knows nevertheless no note. Stands in the darkness of the cellar door, since then the world verrohte. Star hands four - the moon woman sang in boats - play now dance the rats in the geklirr. Broke the Klaviatuer... I weep the blue dead one. Oh me the sky door living already opens dear angels for me - I ate of bitter bread - - also against that prohibitions I loves you I loves you and finds you although the day becomes completely dark. Mine live-long and still is searching I around-erred. I love you! I love you! I love you! Your lips open... The world is deaf, the world is blind and also the cloud and leaves - - only we, golden dust from which we two prepares for which: - are! I white I know, which I must die soon it to shine nevertheless all trees after long-desired July kiss - pale to become my dreams - never sealed I a gloomier conclusion in the books of my Reime. A flower you break to me to the greeting - I loved her already in the germ. But I know that I must die soon. My Odem floats over God river - I set mean foot quiet on the path to eternal homes. Sense intoxication your suend'ger mouth is dead my, Betaeubend is its sweet breath smell, because my virtues passed away. I drink sinnberauscht from its source and sink sakeless into its depths, clarified view to hell. My hot body erglueht in his breath, it trembles like a young rose bush, kissed from the warm May rain. - I follow you in the wild country of the sin and pick tiger lilies on the ways, - if I also do not regain the homeland...
else lasker - shule

Ein alter Tibetteppich

Deine Seele, die die meine liebet,
Ist verwirkt mit ihr im Teppichtibet.
Strahl in Strahl, verliebte Farben,
Sterne, die sich himmellang umwarben.
Unsere Füße ruhen auf der Kostbarkeit,
Süßer Lamasohn auf Moschuspflanzenthron,
Wie lange küsst dein Mund den meinen wohl
Und Wang die Wange buntgeknüpfte Zeiten schon?


Ich will in das Grenzenlose
Zu mir zurück,
Schon blüht die Herbstzeitlose
Meiner Seele,
Vielleicht ists schon zu spät zurück.
O, ich sterbe unter euch!
Da ihr mich erstickt mit euch.
Fäden möchte ich um mich ziehen
Wirrwarr endend!
Euch verwirrend,
Zu entfliehn

Abends (not the mainframe kind)

Auf einmal musste ich singen -
Und ich wusste nicht warum?
- Doch abends weinte ich bitterlich,
Es stieg aus allen Dingen
Ein Schmerz, und der ging um
- Und legte sich auf mich. 12


Es ist ein Weinen in der Welt,
Als ob der liebe Gott gestorben wär,
Und der bleierne Schatten, der niederfällt,
Lastet grabesschwer.
Komm, wir wollen uns näher verbergen...
Das Leben liegt in aller Herzen
Wie in Särgen.
Du! wir wollen uns tief küssen -
Es pocht eine Sehnsucht an die Welt,
An der wir sterben müssen.

Die Verscheuchte

Es ist der Tag im Nebel völlig eingehüllt,
Entseelt begegnen alle Welten sich -
Kaum hingezeichnet wie auf einem Schattenbild.
Wie lange war kein Herz zu meinem mild...
Die Welt erkaltete, der Mensch verblich.
- Komm bete mit mir - denn Gott tröstet mich.
Wo weilt der Odem, der aus meinem Leben wich?
Ich streife heimatlos zusammen mit dem Wild
Durch bleiche Zeiten träumend - ja ich liebte dich..
Wo soll ich hin, wenn kalt der Nordsturm brüllt?
Die scheuen Tiere aus der Landschaft wagen sich
Und ich vor deine Tür, ein Bündel Wegerich.
Bald haben Tränen alle Himmel weggespült,
An deren Kelchen Dichter ihren Durst gestillt-
Auch du und ich.

Mein blaues Klavier

Ich habe zu Hause ein blaues Klavier
Und kenne doch keine Note.
Es steht im Dunkel der Kellertür,
Seitdem die Welt verrohte.
Es spielen Sternenhände vier
- Die Mondfrau sang im Boote -
Nun tanzen die Ratten im Geklirr.
Zerbrochen ist die Klaviatür...
Ich beweine die blaue Tote.
Ach liebe Engel öffnet mir
- Ich aß vom bitteren Brote -
Mir lebend schon die Himmelstür -
Auch wider dem Verbote

Ich liebe dich

Ich liebe dich
Und finde dich
Wenn auch der Tag ganz dunkel wird.
Mein Lebelang
Und immer noch
Bin suchend ich umhergeirrt.
Ich liebe dich!
Ich liebe dich!
Ich liebe dich!
Es öffnen deine Lippen sich...
Die Welt ist taub,
Die Welt ist blind
Und auch die Wolke
Und das Laub -
- Nur wir, der goldene Staub
Aus dem wir zwei bereitet:
- Sind!

Ich weiss

Ich weiß, das ich bald sterben muß
Es leuchten doch alle Bäume
Nach langersehntem Julikuß –
Fahl werden meine Träume –
Nie dichtete ich einen trüberen Schluß
In den Büchern meiner Reime.

Eine Blume brichst du mir zum Gruß –
Ich liebte sie schon im Keime.
Doch ich weiß, dass ich bald sterben muß.

Mein Odem schwebt über Gottes Fluß –
Ich setze leise meinen Fuß
Auf den Pfad zum ewigen Heime.


Dein sünd’ger Mund ist meine Totengruft,
Betäubend ist sein süßer Atemduft,
Denn meine Tugenden entschliefen.
Ich trinke sinnberauscht aus seiner Quelle
Und sinke willenlos in ihre Tiefen,
Verklärten Blickes in die Hölle.

Mein heißer Leib erglüht in seinem Hauch,
Er zittert wie ein junger Rosenstrauch,
Geküßt vom warmen Maienregen.
– Ich folge Dir ins wilde Land der Sünde
Und pflücke Feuerlilien auf den Wegen,
– Wenn ich die Heimat auch nicht wiederfinde...