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Monday, May 28, 2012

Gothic Rose Does San Rafael!

Dearly Beloved Hearts,
David Madgalene will be reading from "Goodbye Gothic Rose" at Angar Mora's Salon, on Monday night June 11, 2012. Also appearing is photographer Jay Tamang. Open Mic. $10 cover charge. Dinner (optional) and discussion starts at 5:30 pm and the presentations start at 7 and end by 8:45. Please join us for poetry, photography, good food and good conversation! Cafe Arrivederchi, 11 G Street, San Rafael. For more info, please call host Angar Mora at 415-492-8870.
Muses Bless,
David Madgalene

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Do Coffee with Gothic Rose

David Madgalene's "Goodbye Gothic Rose" and the anthology he edited, "Continent of Light" are now available at some of Sonoma County's finest coffee shops, bakeries and eateries, thanks to Jeane Slone, distributor of local authors' books. In Petaluma, you can find Gothic Rose at the Apple Box Coffee Shop (224 B St.), the Food Bar (139 Petaluma Blvd. North), and Viva Cocolat (110 Petaluma Blvd North). In Sonoma, you can find Gothic Rose at the Barking Dog Roasters II (201 W. Napa St.)and the Community Cafe (875 W. Napa St). Healdsburg: the Bean Affair (1270 Healdsburg Ave.). Santa Rosa: Cafe de Croissants (both Montgomery Village and the 2444 Lomitas Ave. locations), Gaia's Garden (1899 Mendocino Ave.), Muffin Street Baking (52 Mission Circle), and Pearson & Co (2579 Fourth St.). Larksfield: Bungalow Coffee and Tea (near Molsberry Market). Cloverdale: Local Folkal (117 N. Cloverdale Blvd.). Cotati: the Redwood Cafe (8420 Old Redwood Hwy).

I Heard A Journeyman Sing now on Kindle!



Selections from
I Heard a Journeyman Sing
by David Madgalene


The Scholar

One day
a scholar put down his books
and left.
To the sky he said:
Sky, I want to learn from your sun.
To the woman he said:
Woman, I want to learn from your lips.
To the brook he said:
Brook, I want to learn from your water.
To the bird he said:
Bird, I want to learn from your song.
But he said nothing to his teachers—
they would not have understood.


The Journeyman

The journeyman walks.

His only companions
are a beer can
and an old dog.

As night comes
he sits down and cries.
Cars pass him by.
People in houses
say ¨Good night¨
as the dog bites his hand.


Sweet Christine

There were days
when sons of men did not know me.
Days when I did not know myself.
Nights when I should have died.
Nights in which I masqueraded
in circles,
whispering
to a silent moon.

Christine, you were there
if I knocked on your door,
with your dubious smile.
Different faces.
Distant phases.
When you gave,
I wanted to live again.


If the Sky Was My Woman

If the sky was my woman,
I know when I’d wake,
she’d be there.

If the sky was my woman,
I’d play with her children.
Sing with birds.
Touch clouds.
Drown in rain.

If the sky was my woman,
I wouldn’t worry
about her leaving me.
She wouldn’t do
what you have done.

If the sky was my woman,
at night I’d look
into her eyes, the stars.
I’d reach out
and hold her in my arms.


The Cool of Your Afternoon

There are two of us—
the old singer in exile
and the reflection of my body
in the mirror.
She talks
about her devil man
as I feel the vibration
which dances among people
that makes me see
we are none.
I want to shout,
but I smile instead.

She sings:
“Baby,
let me walk down
the cool of your afternoon.
Let me find
sanctuary in your shade.
Let us share love
in the ashes of the night.”

God looks over the city.