This winter has seen the publication of eight of my poems in Arsenic Lobster and pioneertown along with the release of the new issue of Redheaded Stepchild, which I co-edited.
Check out the poems here:
Four poems by Caleb Beissert in ARSENIC LOBSTER
Four Poems by Caleb Beissert in PIONEERTOWN
Winter 2015 issue of REDHEADED STEPCHILD
On August 22, in an apartment just off of Dalry Road in Edinburgh, poets James McKay, Keith Jarrett, and Caleb Beissert gathered together for a recording session, after a long week of performances at the Fringe. Each poem was recorded in one take, aside from a few start overs due to outside noise. Rosie Fitzmaurice was the recording engineer. Listen to the session here.
Words continue to float like dreams in the invisible city of Edinburgh, where time seems forgotten. Today I’m giving readings in a medieval dungeon turned metal bar–as if this trip hasn’t been surreal enough. And a fine spot for poetry it is. Earlier: brilliant poet from London Keith Jarrett read the Spanish of my English translations. Later: returning star James McKay and I will attempt a seance of Walt Whitman, 5:30 PM in the dungeon.
Still more to come during this last week of this jam-packed fest. The PBH Free Fringe is the epicenter for poetry on the planet these few weeks and for artists “on the fringe.”
Update: gigs at The Royal Oak and La Tasca were splendid success. Nice audiences and fabulous to hear the fellow poets. My next feature spot: 12:50 PM at The Banshee Labyrinth
George T. Lewis Academic Center
A blank page
the rest is well they say history
among the dead and scholars of war among
the ringing bells and endless paper airplanes
open windows in the spring
her majesty the teacher and holly bushes outside
the window that is wavy over the radiator
painted silver to warn
and small beetles come in after the rain
biology a subject I never had
the teacher mad barking like a dog on top
of a desk
the children blinking
in disbelief
the radon under the school
my English teacher had us read
Blake Coleridge Whitman
Dylan Thomas
Ginsberg—she knew someday I’d fall
in love
—first published in Red Earth Review, 2013
Sold to Rome beckons the saltwater
Motion light bathing
Single waves wash over
The breathing
Greetings, followers! I’m off to Spain, but first to Edinburgh for the Free Fringe, starting off what promises to be a knock-out trip with a reading at Conversational Tones at The Royal Oak (1 Infirmary Street, Edinburgh). I’ll be joining poets James McKay and our gracious host Matt Macdonald for the show. Beats to Byron blade of grass Taoist linen-washer daydreams mixed with trace-amount social comment and sweet adrenaline. More, I’ll be posting updates here during the next few weeks.
