Christian O'Keeffe

Last spring, I took third place in the Wick Poetry Center's 2011 undergraduate competition. Second place went to a lad by the name of Christian O'Keeffe. His poem was beautiful, and he read with passion. After the reading, Christian accosted me in the hallway. He praised my poem and asked me to send him a copy. I agreed and took down his e-mail address. 


This was the extent of our e-mail correspondence:


***


ME:  Hey Christian. Here's my poem. I'd love to have yours as well!


[POEM: "Time for Coffee, Sleepyhead" attached]


CHRISTIAN: Stephen, I fucking love the poem man. jesus. it's just got this incredible style. and its jesus's day to rise from the dead and he's saying jesus, what a poem. ha. what poets/writers are you really into?  "Put a feverish hand on the frosted windowpane Return to the world The world of dead grandparents Of bygone lovers Of the "here and now" Of once-upon-a-time The ice cream man is shriveled..." etc. I coulda just put the whole poem in " "

But yeah, the judge's name is Joanna Solfrian, she's a poet who won the Stan and Tom Wick First Book of Poetry Prize. Part of the deal for winning is 2000 bucks and teaching a workshop to students back in oct and also judging the comp we both won for. Me and Mark, the one who won first place, took the workshop back in Oct and she was great. You should check out her book, its called Visible Heavens (KSU Press). Here's one of the poems I like

[POEM: "Response To A Lover" by Joanna Solfrian]

Anyway here's my poem too- 

-Christian

[POEM: "Quiet Gutter Birthday Curb" attached]



***


I never responded, and I never saw him again.

Just last month, Christian gave his life to a train in Kent near Middlebury road.

As I barely knew him, I won't waste time with a narcissistic conveyance of my emotional response. He was a great talent in Kent's literary circle, and I'd like to share one of his very beautiful poems in remembrance. In the way you can see his passion oozing from the words of his e-mail, his performance evinces his love for and dedication to his craft. Admirable, to say the least.

First Shots with 5D III

I just obtained a 5D Mark III. That's a camera. Here are four of my favorite first shots. Take a look at my Flickr account for more! (Lens is a Canon 50mm 1.2.)

Hocking Hills

The Rock House in Hocking Hills is one of the most beautiful sites in Ohio. But be warned. The cave is under the jurisdiction of a pigeon mafia, who sound startlingly demonic with rapid wing flaps and throaty coos echoing off the rock walls.

POEM: Breathing Apparatus, Water Shield

Cluck click chirp squawk
Hiss sing rattle quake
Count miles, count money, count days
Touch stones, toss stones, rub bones
Rain slinks
Tattered veil grays west
Leak drool spit sputter
Breathe wet wool sock
Choke
Measure
Trade and swap
Inhaler lost to couch cushions
Or was it dreams?
A fool's barter
Ankle fire bites burn
Eyes push back brain
Cool sweeps over green murk
Reeds conspire
I need to eat
Rest
Stop and breathe
Instead, count
Measure
Choke chirp click
Fat cold smacks hot scalp
Umbrella sold for gas money and UV rays
Burn to shriveled black crunch
Clank bones bite stones break teeth
Burn and soak
Clock, calendars, coins crash
Spooked, the crane flaps to find new fish
And cover from the rain

Cut Humanities Departments!

I think this guy (not the the person in the picture, for I believe that is a woman) is just looking for a rise. Nonetheless, his buffoonery is good for a dark chuckle. Click on the picture to read his silly article.

I Thought Andy Warhol Only Ate Campbell's Soup

Hello. This is my first post. I will begin with a video I enjoy. I hope you enjoy it, too.