SplashHall Poetry & Art - Yesterday, Today & Tomorrow
An Update Message From SplashHall Founder CafeRg
Splashhall Poetry and Art Forums was birthed from the division of a group of online poets who shared their vision and poetry in Excite SuperChat back around 2001. Wanting to stay in touch, this group went on to create their own community of writers through poetry boards and online virtual chat.
My vision for Splashhall grew to be very well diversified including audio (spokenword), the written word, multi-media and art.
Voodoo Chat is very instrumental in connecting the writers and participants of Splashhall Poetry Community and Poetry Cafe with live poetry reading events, in a friendly interaction and peaceful atmosphere. Recently SplashHall Chat & Poetry Cafe Chat have teamed up to bring poets from both communities together in VooDoo Chat.
Currently the hosted events are as follows:
Mondays [Poetry Cafe] 10:30 PM EDT: Host Ivvy will hold an event in The Poetry Cafe on the Intervisions server.
Thursdays [SplashHall Poetry Gate] 10:00 PM EDT: Lady_Kendred (aka Mari) & CafeRg will host in the SpashHall Poetry room on the Treasure Island Server
Fridays [SplashHall Poetry Gate] 10:00 PM EDT: SplashChat Hostess Nite will lead the Poetry Reading on the Treasure Isle Server in the SplashHall Poetry Gate.
Saturdays [SplashHall Poetry Gate] 10:00 PM EDT: Host Delia will be leading the Saturday Night's Event Treasure Island Server
Both Poetry Rooms are open 24/7 for casual reads, discussion and just good friendship.
Locate any Poetry Event Host or Room Host below including CafeRg, Mari aka Lady_Kindred, Nite, Delia aka Hell_in_a_Bucket (Sally), Beholder aka Shaolinmonky, and Sampo or just locate a friend, chances are they are reading poetry and hanging out.
For those that cant wait for a VooDoo event or casual read with friends, we also have a built text chat on the SplashHall boards.
Over the years a community of rooms (vp rooms) has grown to offer a basis for strong interaction with our member-managed community. Splash offers new rooms including romance, mystic and old popular Excite VP Rooms.
SplashHall’s strong emphasis is on contemporary poetry, and workshopping in the
Poetic Ax (sharp relentless critiques), and the Poetry Wax Lounge (kinder gentler critiques) offering a wide variety of discussions and topics by professional, published poets. A good place to tweak that special poem.
Also a recently polished un-inhibited
Erotica Poetry Section, that includes short stories and art. A
Minimalist Poetry section for the shorter muse, which is very popular. Minimal poetry is also excellent for enhancing your creative and opening those writing blocks.
The SplashHall Poetry Staff include, in addition the above mention Chat & Events Host - Poetry Director: Witt, Splash Ambassador: Allen, Golden SplashHostess: Kay, Senior SplashHostess: Lady SunShine, SplashScribe: Soft Words
We have also developed with the direction of Jack Linden SplashArt Director, acclaimed artist from Greece, art galleries called
SplashHall's Painted Poet Art Gallery. We have Art Exhibitions from around the world, as well as, SplashMember Art Galleries.
SplashHall offers many categories and genres, including Haiku, Zen, Concrete, Dark, Romantic, Political along with more traditional forms of poetry including Rhyme.
We have also develop a strong
Multimedia Poetry section where you can stream your audio poetry or music directly into your post. You can even stream YouTube and Google Videos directly. Here we have a section for Spoken Word, audio poetry and another section for flash and other movie video including Cin(E)-Poetry created by Film Maker George Aguilar.
We offer, member created and managed contests with prizes, the most recent being "
Mind Your Metaphor" running through May, 2007. CafeRg's Poetry Picture Contest has been a member favorite for years.
We are affiliated with a small group (appx 24) of other poetry boards around the world called I
nterBoard Poetry Community (IBPC), Which offers monthly international poetry competitions, free.
For those that would like to discuss social and environment issues with healthy banter or simply share some lifestyle tips, jokes and a story of what happen while on your way to the mall, there are forums for that as well.
Another favorite, A Virtual Meet Up (member Spotlight) gives other poets a chance to “see” who they are reading and learn a little more about the person behind the post and their achievements as well.
Established, active members may "
own a piece of Splash" by maintaining and moderating their "own personal board" with backend support from Splashhall, all free.
We have a Market Place for active members to advertise their chapbooks, art,
music, your old pair of jeans. Add your blog or website, Free, to our Members Link Page for a simple link back to us.
An expanded storefront is in the works.
BZOO HomeGrown Radio was created for Splashhall with a variety of genres - Spoken Word, Country, Zydeco, Bluegrass, Blues, RnB and Jazz, Politics and Comedy. We also feature interviews with poets, writers and artists, Singers/Musicians and songwriters.
My vision for Splashhall Poetry is to continue growing, freedom of expression and eventually have a physical place for poets, writers, artists, musicians and writers to be able to gather and continue to nurture and enhance their work. All forums at SplashHall Poetry have always been Free and are still Free. We dont believe in charging a premium to expand ones artistic and creative endeavors.
Creatively yours,
cafeRg
Founder
Below are a few examples of the poetry of some of our members.
Snow Walkby Kay
My body is a cup
of deja brew, my spine the poise
of Luoyang peony.
A snow walk begins to dissolve over moss
and lichen; midlife casts its light shaded by
rouge.
Seeds split from their cassocks,
the alder tree catkins await their red flowers.
© 2007 Kay Vibbert
~*~
Redemption At Midnightby CafeRg
Stroll with me
into a carnal alley
with moans from whores
and pimps counting change
we'll slide by them into
my dingy hole in the wall
the only light is the neon
sign outside, drifting through
a crack in the window shade.
I'll grab your wrist
pressing myself into your
fragile body, grope your
cherry breast, bite your
tongue slithering like
a hungry snake
share Chacha smuggled
in by a French DGSE agent
what we don't guzzle and lap,
we'll pour over each other
soaked skin through,
licking intoxicating grape
brandy and salty flush skin
our bodies coiled, begging
for mercy, our clothes melt
into nuclear plasma
onto smoke stained floor
only your girlish brown panties remain
dark pretty eyes that say save me
we'll dance a lover's ritual of
animalistic sacrifice
you're on fire now, you can't stop me
a mutant jackal hovering over you
with a frothing smile I growl,
"I'm going to fuck those demons out of you, lady."
© 2007 Rg George
~*~
i like the one without the dressby cy street
in pursuit of your stolen eyes
bowls of wild cherries
apricots
difficult to pronounce peppers
open air markets
zaragosa
i am in the middle of something
could i call you back
tuesday at ten
yeah ten
the valley
migas in hidalgo
down from the mission
main street cafe
talk to you then
i say farewell
turn off the phone
before i undress
i try to remember
the last time a car passed by
a week
at least
beyond the pissarro
in the muddy bottom
ducks argue
something about sunfish
and snapping turtles
pretty soon
we can goose creek
take a breakfast off the roof
cloud watch
sketch characters
kill them with paper
bare hands
not today
your breathing reminds me
i breathe too
hidden like lemon cucumbers
your clenched lips
peek cautiously along your stillness
in the shade of hearts of palm
you rest like a tea kettle
resting
waiting
to make fortnum and mason
thank you
i sip your calmness
and forgetting is easier
your silences excite me
i like the one without the dress
blue crayon
adaptable
practiced in solitude
tagliatelle
wild boar
tomato
and grand cru pecorino
i confess
i get jealous of your pillow
an empty cup
a cube of sugar left behind
i missed your invitations
your sun soaked ankle
jack rabbits beneath your brim
a late night diner
the night before you left
pecans are falling
it sounds like fourth grade
on a tin roof
a riverfront
ten miles on foot
i did countless interviews
an afternoon in la condesa
scuba eggs
sips of silver tequila
i love you in spanish
i love your tasman sea
reflecting maple syrup
crawling your leg
making a ruckus without a breeze
© 2006 cy street
~*~
Tributeby Witt
If I were wealthy
I'd have Jonathan Green's
art on all my walls
especially Noon Wash
in my kitchen
to remember those
rich coffee hands
stir lye wash water
in a black kettle over
an open fire
dump the soapy
liquid down the hill
which fed figs
the size of my fist
I split them open
peel the red pulp
off with my teeth
pitch the skins.
And in my den
Sharing the Chores
would echo the laughter
of common things
gather eggs
out of the backyard
laid right out there
in the dirt
pick up plums
before the chickens
can get at them
I don't want to remember
the chicken plucking
and hanging it upside down
to drip
though I do.
Daughters of the South
would find a
prominent place
for chocolate and cream
run bare-foot
hand in hand
through the vacant lot
gather wild flowers
weeds actually
yellow and purple
sweeping can wait
She carried me
through the stickers.
In my bedroom
Beach Dance
recollects
those dark hands
smoothing olive oil
to protect my fair skin
and soothing on BGO
to ease my sunburned flesh
till summer's end
I am as tanned as she
pink and white
mounds of discarded
seashells litter
the yard
years of waves
muffled by the
passing tide.
Mullet Friday...
bream fried in cornmeal
so fresh you can
smell the creek
swing across
on Tarzan vines
toes in cool water
shoulders crisp
in the heat
'I ain't touching it'
She knew what to
do to get the cooter
off the line.
Gladiolus Harvest...
black and white hands
digging in the dirt
planting seeds of
forever her flowers to this day
still pop up their blue heads
in my garden's corner
whispering 'don't forget'
I won't
I am wealthy.
© 2006 Witt Wittmann
~*~
Girl on Her Kneesby Nite
I fell for a philosopher
I fell for a king
one said to the other
"That girl will fall for anything!"
I fell outta bed before the morning
and landed on my knees, but
when I looked up through the haze,
damn - where was the king?
I staggered thru the house to see
where he could have gone
and there they sat, the two of them.
They gave no look or thought.
The philosopher sat making notes
and thinking of the stars.
The king was issuing commands,
so I walked right out the door.
I was down the road about a block
before they knew I'd gone
I will fall for anything, it's true,
but I know who to call.
I called up the captain and
I called up the chief.
I said, "Politicos and thinkers
make me bored. I need relief."
The captain turned his boat around,
the chief sent out a scout.
I was in the kitchen but
the cook was not about.
I motioned to the waiter;
he had no time for me.
I whistled at the waitress,
but she shook her head - "Who me?"
I searched for days and nights on end
No one would take me in.
My patience, I am sure you know,
was wearing very thin.
I crawled into the bar room
and queried at the bar.
"Can a poor girl get a freebie drink?"
The barman said, "Why sure!"
I drank there till the morning
but when I prepared to leave
the barman said "Hey lady,
just the first one was for free."
I smiled up at him shyly, said
“I have no way to pay.”
Then he grabbed me by the collar
and did not ask me, please.
What I'm trying to tell you
is that philosophers and kings
can’t beat the common barman
when a girl is on her knees
© 2006 Juliana Marie