Short poems on wine and jazz, august 2017

On the last Friday of each month, during the Kind of Red tapas and wine tasting hour each participant is asked to contribute a line or verse that drips soon after a sip, sound, glance or a unique exchange. Here we share with the community some leafs of the accordion booklet.

在每個月的最後一個星期五, 在紅酒爵士夜中小酌及品嘗西班牙小吃的時光中,每個參與者都在義口小啜、一個聲響、匆匆一瞥或其他獨特形態的交流後被邀請貢獻一兩句或幾行文字。在個社群裡,我們在手風琴書的摺頁間分享彼此。

紅屋,紅酒,臉紅紅; 我想我又戀愛了。
-Hoki

Red Carpet , red room, red wine (well , white and pink as well , but you know)
Red flows as much as the wine and the smooth jazz tonight.
Let’s all get red together tonight with the wine.
-a thirsty Red Roomer
一位口渴的紅坊人

Be the change i want to see until i see the result!

如果明天就是最後一天。那你想留給這世界什麼禮物。你會想改變什麼呢?
你想留給下一代什麼?
-Ro

如果你愛這個世界,首先你要過得幸福快樂。
-Cha Cha

Kind of Red has been a treat to the senses, clarity to the mind, music to my taste buds.
-Reeves

Dive in and enjoy the tranquility with soothing jazz, timeless sounds, and forgotten beats.
Let us swim in the pungent sweat of grapes crushed with heat and ferver.
Their form forgotten, and instead shapes in the imagination of your flavour.
Diving in the sea,
Listen ~
the ocean, the flow, the whisper.
You’re the king queen of the world.
The being reigning the well collecting the colour seeping and the great bird shrieking ;
you are.
Make noise.

-a literary enthusiast of the Red Room
一位紅坊詩人

Monkeying Around at The Red Room, May 2017

The Story of the Monkey King

On May 20, at the Red Room, we had a performance. The name of the play was “The Monkey King.” I was one of the monkeys. My sister and many others were also there. The Monkey King was played by Max.
The story happens in ancient China, thousands and thousands of years ago. There was darkness and chaos. Then, the earth, the moon and the sky were created. On one of the mountains, there was a pregnant stone. One day, it split open and gave birth to a monkey. This monkey made friends with all the animals. Later, the other monkeys made him their king.
It was much fun!

By Petru Luca


Monkeying Around at The Red Room

On a Friday night, as my dad was checking his Facebook, he found some info about “The Monkey King,” a Red Room play for kids under nine. When he told Petru (my brother) about this, he was quite excited. I sighed quietly, because I love everything about drama and plays—but I am twelve, so I couldn’t be part of this show.

Two weeks later, things began for real. We went to the Red Room for Petru to practice. There we met Max, a smart kid, always in high spirits. There was also Victor, a shy boy, Adam, his father, Esther and Minka, Rachel, and also Cindy and Sharon. I thought that this whole play thing was pretty childish (that’s because I was really jealous, of course) … until Ruth, the author of the script and the director, asked me to join in. This made me feel fantastic! Then, during the next rehearsals, I was really into it. I shared some of my ideas with the class. I tried my best to memorize the lines. It was fun!

Finally, after much work, performance day came. I was nervous. Then, I thought that I shouldn’t be that stiff! After all, this was for fun and we wanted to make the kids coming to see us really enjoy themselves. And then the play started! Alas, it also ended much too quickly! We got much applause and people kept on saying: “I totally loved it!” At the very end, Ruth had a surprise for us—tiny little crowns! She put them on our heads and crowned us as princes and princesses!

This is, dear readers, my short account of those wonderful days. Now the curtain must fall, and so this is

of my text.

By Alexandra Luca

“My Tribe”

“My Tribe”

What can I say about you
that hasn’t been expressed
by other clear voices?
You were unexpected brilliance,
making my life a little richer.
You entered my life
like a welcome explosion
of words, art, senses, heart,
hands, abundance,
friendship and purpose.
Your hearts are big,
your words are true.
You found room for me
and let me in.
I entered a stranger,
but left a friend.
No, more than that.
You made me family.

I walked through a door
that was the warmest embrace.
You gave me a gift
where it was okay for me
to explore and be myself.
You’ve made me
a little richer,
a little kinder,
a little happier to be me.

I’m not always a loud voice
but you welcomed what I am.
You were there
as I battled pain and anxiety,
and you never turned me away.
Because of you,
my writing erupted
from my pen in inky loops of joy,
my voice soared beyond
performance, but to reach out
and make a difference.
We are family beyond blood,
connected by the colorful
joyful
painful mosaic of
human experience.
I will carry you in my heart
and share your gift with the world.

You are my tribe.

–by Whitney Zahar

Poem written for Spectacular Atrophy, May 2017

Poem written for Spectacular Atrophy

The organizers and players involved gathered in a circle, as fireworks shot into the sky; an explosion of light, dazzled and amazed, showering the land with love and praise.

That spectacle is a part of this cycle.

It was said:

Abided , alleged , anticipated
We bargained, begged, blasted
They “cross-examined” , condemned
Denied , Droned
Exposed, equivocated, echoed
It was foretold
Granted Grinned
Hoped
Implied, indicated, interrogated
Justified
Lied, listed
They narrated
They observed, observed, observed
Parroted, pledged, paraphrased
Questioned
Requested, repeated, rephrased, repeated, rhapsodized, reviewed, repeated
Sanctioned, solicited
Taunted, thundered, trumpeted
We uttered
We voiced, vowed
They wished
They whispered
We’ve yielded

by Aspiring Azul

Kaamyab Ho, the positive workflow

Kaamyab Ho, the positive work flow, laid deep within my skin, prick pointed by peri pipkin. The crying procrastinator imprints a reminder FOREVER, only method of removal would be to sever the limb in which I lift high above my head.

Kaamyab Ho, the positive workflow..
A phrase to continue the pace for productivity, it faces me for my eyes only. Soley- but I don’t stand alone, the grind is consistent with any 21 year old.. With livers as healthy as any teenager, we convince ourselves that there’s plenty of time. To heal, bounce back and recover from the night before. Ignore the sore pains that you’ll never have the best story to explain…well, parentals..i lean upon a cane. Modern day utilities remind us of our futility in the level of functionality that matters. Morning chatters, sips on chai crackers this ink blot teaches truth..that’s the last tooth. I’ll be ready as an adult…crunching my way through youth..

Kaamyab Ho, the positive work flow, laid deep within my skin, words by brown kin I’m closer to being Hindustani , Gandhi had his code to abide by, this way chickens do fly, possibilities aren’t out the window …they exist in my scope, no need to linger… let me throw you a rope..

Rise and surface through the desert sands…originally unfamiliar lands- striving for success starved of demands unmet..this is more than shade…it’s a tent…
Tools and sustenance hits fools and reluctance. All we need is within it, how could you not make sense of this.

It’s from a steel point…torch lit to a rocker’s joint.
she walked into my room with a needle and ink..there was me sitting with a very stiff drink..
Chizzle to skin, clink..clink..think on what’s being done..this is permanent ink..

Kaamyab Ho, the positive workflow

Read by Aspiring Azul
Stage Time & Wine 88, April 15 2017

By the Red Room: Shift

By the Red Room: Shift

For those of you at the narrow center of the Venn diagram that is Red Room regular and parenthood, you probably know me. I’ve been emceeing/hosting the bimonthly Stage Time & Juice event for the past 6 or 7 years. For the rest of you, you might recognize me as that one guy who rambled on about his book way too long in that Stage Time & Wine last November.

Well, the book’s finished. In fact, thanks to the Taipei Writer’s Group and its publishing imprint, TWG Press, I was able to show it off and get physical copies into people’s hands at this year’s Taipei International Book Exhibition. It was a wonderful experience and the feedback was great. In fact, so far feedback has been good overall, with near-five star ratings on both Amazon and Goodreads. Even more importantly, they are accompanied by (mostly) positive, constructive criticism.

The book itself is a present-day science fiction thriller in the vein of Michael Crichton with a bit of Lovecraftian atmospheric and cosmic horror elements, influence coming specifically from H.P. Lovecraft’s short story, From Beyond, and a Star Talk podcast episode.

Here’s the back of the book blurb:

Multiple dimensions exist, and they are flush with resources for the taking.

A USB drive containing an anonymous message and mysterious piece of code is delivered to the New York offices of Wired Magazine. Science reporter Dr. Pei Xiao, driven by the need to justify her decision to stay in the U.S. to her parents, has just gotten the opportunity she’s been waiting for. Photographer Roy Bryant just needs to make this month’s rent. What starts as a simple interview quickly develops into a complex tale of conspiracy, espionage, and otherworldly adventure.

_Shift is available on Kindle and in paperback on Amazon at http://amzn.to/2kCFLaf. Paperbacks will also be available locally at select TWG Press events and, quite possibly, local independent bookshops. To be alerted to those opportunities and up-to-date on the progress of book two, Backdata, please join the newsletter on my blog: http://shiftspace.info.

By Brian Q. Webb

Collaborative Project with Alex

Dear Red Roomers,

I am reaching out to you because I have some dreams that are not finished and related to Taiwan. I recently returned to Australia but before I left Taiwan I did a 3,500KM scooter ride over 5 weeks camping on beaches, temples, basketball courts and where ever seemed fit. I have a wealth of images and I have put half online but I want to create a book. I want to create an bilingual book showing the beauty of Taiwan visually and also thru writing.

A few photos from Alex’s Taiwan collection:

I want to reach out to everyone with the idea of making a book filled with my images but with stories from different people all related to Taiwan. I will fund it, design it, publish it and give credit and a copy to everyone who helped make this idea a reality.

I was wondering if you would like to be apart of this project and share your story with the world. They have to be related to a Taiwan experience and celebrate Taiwanese culture. I will get the stories translated so the book will be bilingual as well.

If anyone has a story already or wants more information please contact me and I can share more thoughts and hopefully we can start collaborating together.

Contact Alex and share in his vision: alex.houghton.photo@gmail.com

Thank you

Hey you!

hey-you

Marriage Equality

By the Red Room…

Our Creative Nook for our Red Room Performers, Contributors, Friends, and Newbies who want to share more of their beautiful words. Want to be a part of it? Contact me, Whitney, at editor.redroom@gmail.com for submission guidelines and information. I accept on a rolling basis, but I would like to get contributions ready by the 25th of each month.

Marriage Equality
By Aspiring Azul

6am this morning i watch a speech by Ping on perspective. regarding the law sanctioning the principle of Marital Equality for woman & woman, man and man.
by 7 i’m spilling ink across the table top
whirling out the words i could not express,
remaining is but what i have left.

I don’t believe in Marriage
I believe in creating, communicating, coloring my crazed cravings into my comic craft
i’ve chosen this
i’ve chosen him
i’ve chosen her

Love isn’t colorblind, nor is love red
love is a rainbow under covers of a bed

I believe in the sight of another human being drawing me breathless
intense vulnerability linked to sharing…everything

I believe in the security of a surreal bond
confident that the world outside sanctions my choice
I’ve chosen this
i’ve chosen him
i’ve chosen her
a united plunge into pools of wonder
hand in hand through shallow puddles of rooted struggles
limbs intwined for the pretzel like cuddles
braving winter elements with one scarf between two
filled wth butterflies and candle lit shrines

peering into eyes that spark a fire trail
listening to a heart rate tell its tale
smelling scents of head & hair
touch of body with tender care

without these liberties and assurances, whats left of being human?
without acceptance , how can we belong?

With my beliefs respected
I
can

insert myself into reality
contribute to those around me,
navigate the spheres of curiosity
adapt to principles of society

blend and stir to thicken the stew
trace life’s pages with many and a few
crack the surface and discover the new

Today the issue is that not all of us can do these things,

bubbling beneath us is boiling truth
if neglected we’re ruined we’re THROUGH

I believe in people , i believe in our decisions, i believe in our acceptance,
i’ve chosen this,
i’ve chosen him,
i’ve chosen her

Internal Whispers

In time together
Same direction
Pace if found
Many tribes
Mystic drum beats
Sacred ripples sound
tic, toc, tick, toc
Millions of lost souls to link
No diviner moment
than when
every heart beat is in sync
In conscious opposition
Seen is a painful truth
The bridge mending duality
for most
is shattered during youth
Oh seer of wisdom
sage of the gracious living elm
with faith
frailty
and ultimate surrender
to the eternal realm
for I am you
and you are me
In this moment
We should all see
Yet, those who flee
Only need help to see
to flee is hardly free
selfish are we
who indulge in peace
and harmony
as others are convinced
time is only a lease
for a lifetime
and many to come
call us to duty, to battle
with innocent dreams from
an indestructible heart
dancing and singing in
the land of love and art
compassion is the gift
to make whole each and every
blessed immortal soul
 

Stuart Ziegler wrote this poem at Petals of Compassion art auction event for Nepal