abovegroundtesting-the magazine
issue 90

October 2006                                                                                                                                                      issn 1488-0024



    It's one of those experiences that make life interesting.  I opened my email and read a request from a singer named Ethereal; she asked if I could feature some of her music on my podcast.  I followed the link she supplied and listened to the work.  I was impressed and included her song in my September podcast.  She also informed me of a few other songs she has made available and I listened to them as well, one in particular grabbed my attention and I thought I have to do more then feature her songs, I had to learn more about her and so I asked if she would be kind enough to answer some questions I would email to her.  The result of that request is in this issue. 
    What can I say about Ethereal, well she lives up to her name and is a good singer.  She has an interesting message and I hope you will visit her site at MySpace.com, there you can learn more about her, sample her work and read her thoughts on her blog.  MySpace has become a fascinating phenomenum as far as the marketing and presentation of new musical acts, and even some established ones.  From simply being a site where young people can hang out it has become an important venue for getting music out and bypassing the entire Music Marketing Machine©.  Again the gatekeepers are still there but the gates have been moved. 
    Much has been written about MySpace, especially after its purchase by Rupert Murdoch for 580 Million Dollars (hey anyone want to purchase an ezine?).  The news has been mixed, as I said its a great place for bands and musicians to find an audience, its also a place for young people to socialize.  Of course with the latter comes all the dark stories, tales of predators and people slandering others through MySpace.  It has both good and bad features, much as life.  Still this is a literary arts ezine and not a commentary on social events, okay it is that too.
    This issue will also feature poetry but first, let's learn more about Ethereal.

    Ethereal

    Let me begin with the biography she forwarded to me in her first letter, as well you can read some more about her at her page:

"Ethereal is breaking away from the progressive rock sound of her debut album, Mythillogical and penning her lyrics to a darker, more gothic sound on her upcoming album, Albatross.
      Ethereal began as a poet and her muse grew into a more lyrical style when she joined a cover band in 2002 as a back-up singer. The band barely made it out of the garage before she decided to begin writing her own songs. Three years later, she released her debut album Mythillogical under the Myopicat Records label.
    After a falling out with her label, Ethereal decided to take the opportunity to explore the realms of trance and electronica, a sound that had been driving her for years.  Now, working with musician and talented mixer, Terrence Town, formerly of Rosewater Elizabeth, Ethereal has been able to blend her thought-provoking lyrics to the sound she's always wanted.
For more information on Ethereal, please visit: http://www.myspace.com/etherealvox."

Ethereal - Above Ground Testing Interview



  1. First of all, who is Ethereal


I am a writer before all else. I was born to write and create and every year that goes by brings me closer to my passion. I am able to hear more clearly the message that I'm supposed to bring to the world. That may make me sound a bit like "Joan of Arc"�, **laughs** but every soul has a message to bring from The Other Side. I am a vessel for the muses. I do not so much write the songs as they write me. Sometimes I like to call myself "The Professional Muse Interpreter"� or "The One Woman Army". They both sum me up pretty well in that "bumper-sticker" sort of way.


  1. You mention in your biography that you were a poet; when did you start writing and what were your early sources of inspiration?

I started writing poetry when I was about 16. I remember having a crush on somebody at summer camp and he was a poet. I used to read his stuff all the time and in trying to impress him, I started writing it...and found I could actually do it! **laughs** It's amazing what you'll do to impress somebody you have a crush on but I'm eternally grateful because it's how I discovered the talent. My earliest and current source of inspiration is passion. If I am passionate about a person, a place or a subject matter, that is what fuels me as a poet.


  1. Then after a time you decided to become a songwriter.  What led you to writing lyrics and how does this compare to writing poetry?  Is it harder? Easier?  And what do you have to do that is different?


The difference between writing poetry and writing songs is akin to the difference between hanging out at Woodstock and attending a fancy black-tie affair. At Woodstock, everybody is smoking funny cigarettes and making love. It's a very open, free-spirited feeling. When you go to a black-tie affair, you're dressed up and you're having fun but your shoes might be a little too tight. It's because you have to cram all of yourself into a tight little black dress and ¾" heels instead of just letting "it all hang out"� so to speak. Since I've always been a free-verse poet, I never felt concerned about getting my emotions to fit into any rhyme and meter. Now as a songwriter, you have to do that. You have only so many lines for the lyrics to go in. You've got the first verse, which begins the story, the chorus that moves it along and so on, so there is a structure there that takes discipline. Poetry and song lyrics are both difficult and easy, actually. It just depends on how they come to you. They're both a challenge in their own way.


  1. Tell me about your first album, what was the message you were hoping to convey and did you feel the endeavor was a success?


Mythillogical was a concept album revolving around the process of my coming out and dealing with the pain of being in an emotionally abusive relationship. My first album was a very internal process. I dealt with the end of the relationship as well as other issues surrounding me at the time using the album as the medium. I feel the endeavor was a personal success. It was better received in The Netherlands and England because of its progressive, experimental musical style. It was, however, a limited edition album and I was unable to promote it in the way I would have liked on account of a parting with my record label. .


  1. You've got a new CD coming out, when and what can we expect?


The upcoming album, Albatross is a project that I am very excited about. I have shed the progressive rock sound and am diving deep into the underworld of dark-wave and electronica. When I first conceived to write an album, this is the sound I was hearing in my head. I believe I've better honed my craft of as a lyricist and vocalist and it's an honor to work with such a talented musician and producer as Terrence Town. His mind works the same musically as mine does lyrically so it's a wonderful artistic partnership. The album will be out in the spring of 2007. I expose myself more in this album with songs like "Baby Blue"revolving around my abusive childhood and "The Devil's Hand" which tells the tale of what it is like to be brainwashed. I also humbly open myself up to be the vessel and wear the "Albatross"for the voices of others as well. Some of the songs are written for specific people in my life and others for muses that have long since passed. We have analogue equipment dating back to the seventies in the studio that we mix with electronic beats from today so we're definitely out to create a very experimental yet accessible electronic/dark-wave sound.


  1. You've been using podcasts to get the message out about you and your work, how successful has it been and would you consider this method an important avenue for other indie artists to use.


I would definitely recommend podcasts for independent artists to get the word out about their music. It's a wonderful avenue and not only does it expose your music but you have the opportunity to meet the most amazing people who not only play your music but may offer you another route to explore as well. For example, I have had my music played in an online game called "Second Life". The podcaster just happened to like my sound and asked my permission to include it in the game! I've also had a very unique request that one of my songs be added as a soundtrack to a skateboarding video but I've yet to see that. I'd like to though, that would be cool!

  1. On your myspace.com site you feature the song "This is Rome", to be honest this has become a favorite song of mine.  Tell me about the song, what was the inspiration and what was your message.


Ahh, "This is Rome". That girl had been sitting around in my head for about a year and was just kind of teasing me like, "oh, don"t worry, I'l come, eventually."No need to mince words here. I may fly under the radar with my songs but let's face it; "This is Rome" is about The President of the United States. (Looks around quickly). Oh man, I thought I saw the Secret Service!  In all seriousness, "This is Rome" is a song about absolute power corrupting absolutely. When any human being or city becomes too powerful, that person or city will fall. It's just that simple. And like I say in the song, "what goes around, comes around"� and "what we don't learn, we are doomed to repeat." I compare The President to Caesar and the United States to Rome because there are some alarming similarities. If you look back in history, we have done this time and time again. Don't get me wrong though, I have faith in humanity that we will get it right,eventually. I've also been honored by having the song featured on Neil Young's website promoting the top 600 "Songs of the Times" An astounding number of independent and mainstream artists are speaking out in ways we haven't seen since the sixties. You know something must be done if everywhere from rap to electronica, you're hearing one united voice basically saying,"STOP"�


  1. Now you're a published author.  Tell me about your story, the compilation it is appearing in and how was it to write?


I'm so happy you mentioned that. **smiles** I'm very proud of my new accomplishment as a writer. The story is called, "Room for Rent" and it is published in the new GLBT anthology, Queer Shorts released in September of 2006 by Merge Press. The story revolves around a young woman who moves into an apartment with whom she believes to be a gay male and becomes very attracted to him, only to find out there is much more to her roommate than she would have imagined. It's a poignant love story dealing with the transgender and butch/femme community and how the characters further each other's growth through mutual acceptance. The butch/femme and transgender community is still on the "outskirts" of the Gay and Lesbian community and I am honored to be able to put a spotlight on such a relationship through my writing and help spread awareness of this type of diversity. Writing "Room for Rent" was a lot of fun actually. When I put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, usually it's my characters that tell me what's going on and there are just some funny scenes that just sort of popped out that had me laughing out loud and moments that had me tearing up. It was a very emotional experience, as though I were not creating these characters, but merely telling their story and experiencing it with them.


Is there anything you would like to add?


Yes. Just a few tips I've picked up along the road of life so far. Watch the movie, "The Secret" Read the "Conversations with God"series no matter what religion you are and above all, learn to love. I mean that in an all-encompassing way. Learn to love and tolerate even the people you feel you can't stand. It will do a lot of good for this world and for you.

Thank you Ethereal


Poetry

The first poet for October is Jeff Williams:


Appearances
 

 
I thought he was sexy
But he wasn't homosexual
I thought he was dumb
But he was an intellectual
 
I prayed for his soul
But he was an atheist
I bought him a drum
But he was a bassist
 
I bought him a car
But he couldn't drive
I gave his dog a bone
But it wasn't alive
 
I bought him a book
And I couldn't believe
I thought he was smart
But he couldn't read

By: J. Williams




Les Wicks sent a number of works a couple of months ago, here's a few.  By the way Les, how was Canada?



GONE

You were either a sprawling building site
(a whole new suburb being built)
or a bottle shop.

Two options, either side of an overcrowded road
on an indifferent day
quartered by flight paths.

You'd be mildly offended by either analogy -
being always blue and white, spectrum
of a breaking wave.

Your life was cluttered with grids,
phosphor glow at interstices - plans for plans -
saving the weeds while planting for growth.
I’d live in your postcode.

To write yours or any life
involves wrecking, disguise.
Our tools are sometimes blunt,
I won't dare the whole truth.

Because you are also racks of bright bottles,
so much all pissed away
slab after slab.
But sometimes those rich mineral nights
where wine is punctuation,
the frame that brings the pigment
screaming to the eye.

Fearless for a human
you showed off all the bitter truths,
learnt to love them as we climbed above the middens looked out
to fluorescent ocean night.

Didn't shed the skin so easily.
Snagged by friends, your last word was “poetry"…
was it begging, a promise or summary?
Immaculate, corny as breath.

You are now three wrapped packages of cinders, waiting to be spread.
No more rust, or fire. I was there
when you gave up walking, later
food was finally left behind
(I had a sausage roll that day…
seductive envelope, narratives of salt and spices -
a hint of Vietnam - I remember
that meal above all others
the crescendo of a New Sun Hot Bread vanilla slice, Orchy orange juice -
its feral abundance of pulp).

You could once play tirelessly in any sandpit. No more stone,
you longed for paper
got scissors.

In the end, snipped away,
there was so little to farewell;
our own grief crowded the stage.
Your weak, irregular snores were a walk-on role.

The eulogies were just buckets for our tears.
My picture is darker, wilder
weakness and wonder.
Starlings and parrots roosting in one tree…
can't disturb one
without the other.

You were lazy
as life is pointless and waiting to be picked up
by any truly open eye.

A brush was dipped in that eye
shipwrecks
slapstick or sandstone. You never left an empty plate
when tint was on the menu.

Didn't help anyone that much
including yourself.
We listened to each other over decades
with no negotiated agreement.
That was a sacrament
which will never come again.
Stagnant rockpools are a silence
or solace.

The day we scatter you
I am hoping for a breeze,
a real blowback at the cliff.
Want subtle stains on brightly mourning cotton,
a tickle in the lungs.

To irritate as one flies
is no small goal, 21 cough salute.
I'll carry you home again.


Les Wicks


DEARLY DEMENTED at the SUNDOWNER NURSING HOME


1. BIRTHDAY DAY

Pollock lipstick
vagabond slippers, the snug imprisonment of tracksuits
smeared with 11:30 soft-diet lunch.

Begin to hope the progress
behind pharmacological ramparts.
The real medicine is touch
all other expertise unnecessary.

I am now a fixture here
the nurses chat at visits, even read my books
between wiping bums and perennially guiding Tommy back to bed.
Clinical notes recorded on the verge -
chasms of new molecules, pneumonic harmonica and missing teeth.
I sing along at this birthday party
when everybody else thinks it’s theirs.
Cordial and cake fly like confetti
slow motion kindergarten.
There's the bazaar worth of plots afoot
scheming over nothing
stolen glasses
or dentures. Pirates are aloft in the rigging of their wheelchairs/
aluminium walking-frames glint dangerously in a
gatecrashed sunlight that cranks gaiety to a cackled fever.

2. PICK ME UP

Each visitor is like a death, still hanging on
rusted to every mother as she’s caught keening into where.

The constant spatter of TVs
worlds coming in to seduce away facts
that have still clung on
(steel hooks in the cerebellum).
Always music somewhere
cassette recordings of pianos built with ceramic tiles instead of strings
Underneath the Arches
We’ll Meet Again
(and just once My Generation sent a ripple of fear
through attendant babyboomers).
The heart patch of fort nursed,
mouths open like day
eyes turn tail in prayer
for this week's Dearly Departed.

3. KIND REGARDS

My mother is “such a lady”
and they love her in the way
of pedestrian driftwood, stars and paper cuts.
The dependable burn of cigarettes,
flags of clarity and abyss, alternate horrors each
in separate ways. Time as soil erosion.
Some kind of word in a sleeping night.
Commonwealth Care Standards
and the guilt of children.

Nothing here is unmanaged
yet there's a kind of anarchy,
painted over every three months and
marked on coloured charts.

Families play a hackneyed role -
their fret, love
and secret wishings.
It washes over staff who've seen it before.
There are always better,
always worse actors for these parts.
It's a morality play
written in DNA
‘cause Mum's dementia
will probably be our inheritance.
Partners and doctors monitor afternoon snores,
measure our decay.

4. LOST POST

This is some kind of harvest
old flesh on brittle bones
and grey wheat above
episodic eyes.
Who says death is better?
Most of us
(today- tinned salmon in a weak tomato sauce).
Usually not the residents
rusted in
sometimes even the mad, tender collegiality
of senescent love affairs -
even though she calls him
by another name and his face
is netted alongside unrelated memories.

In the sound of the sun,
every day is new.
Ambulances arrive
more regularly than friends -
there's the thrill of the ride
beneath panic, balms
and the silent rite of agony.

These veterans wear their ribbons of scars.
Pain management.
Come half past five everyone breathes easier, a sort of tranquillity,
when That Bloody Olga starts nodding off.

Previously published in Cordite (Australia)




Dr. Charles Frederickson is our next poet:


Sui Generis


1.
At first reclaiming longsome decades
Digging deeply through childhood wonder
Flipping pages corners turned back
Things seemingly lost actually were

Still trying to act astonished
Faking surprise party wide-eyed glee
Unsure what destiny wills next
At last better come soon

2.
Live life up not down
Make a lasting contribution impressively
Giving of yourself for others
Sharing while caring about humanity

Live so that you have
A great past lying ahead
Present continuous risk taking derring-do
Future dependant on will power



Strange Birds

1.
Tristan’s grackle iridescent black plumage
Bent-kneed Stork tipped feathery white
Sinai Rosefinch bill crackling seeds
Yellow-vented Bulbul fabled Persian nightingale

Short-toed Eagle clipped trim glide
Palestinian Sunbird radiating fiery sparks
Cooing Turtle Doves emblematizing peace
Unfurled rainbow euphonic Warbler harmony

2.
Wild Skylarks overcoming groundless fears
Above all else constant flight
Cagey natural instincts barring confinement
Destined to remain soaring forevermore

Melodious Songbirds teach whistler know-how
Attuned ears recalling fluttery trill
Music breaking silence plucked heartstrings
Measures of joy without rests



Gadfly

1.
Hooked-beak hypocrites pose as eagles
Gaze focused on dovecote roost
Male horseflies feed on pollen
Sip nectar females suck blood

Mealtime for fluffy eaglet aerie
Talons swooping black speck prey
Summer hot with pesky flies
Ticklish scorched hairs clogging nostrils

2.
Hang gliding above own shadow
Molted feather wafting downward thrust
Tormenting flies assault mucous membrane
Trapped within stuffed up sinus

Stoically avoiding the reeking herd
Eagles generally fly alone whereas
Crows and starlings flock together
Dreams enabling fake-believers to fly



Purple Orchids

1.
Clay pots filled with resistance
Soiled tentacular roots shaken loose
Straggly transplants awaiting re-dug grave
Forced indoors bypassing outsider nature

Woven hammocks teak rafter suspended
Swooning rapture drowsy hemlock trance
Mesmeric appeal for tender mercy
Rebuffing like every other similitude

2.
Lavender every imaginable purple shade
Soaking up ravishing beauty accolades
Tucked in decaying organic compost
Sung rockabye baby nursery cradlesongs

Phallic charm on the blink
Unisex amulet warding off evil
Fluttery eyelashes flicking stymied flies
Unchangeable leopard sunspots freckly specks

Dr. Charles Frederickson


Adapted Thai poEtpourri structural scheme
4-line 20-word write on stanzas
Befitting offbeat reason without rhyme
Un-author-ized style consciously punctuation free

Dr. Charles Frederickson
239 Soi Asoke; #5B
Bangkok 10110 Thailand
(02)261-2068
charles_frederickson@hotmail.com

Dr. Charles Frederickson is a Swedish-American-Thai progressive visionary, feisty dybbuk and passionate do-gooder who has wandered intrepidly through 206 countries, an original sketch and poem for each presented on http://www.imagesof.8k.com.  This e-gadfly is a member of World Poets Society, based in Greece, with 100+ poetry publication credits on 5 continents, including: Ascent Aspirations, Auckland Poetry, Blind Man’s Rainbow, Both Sides Now, Caveat Lector, Cordite Poetry Review, Dance to Death, Decanto, Flutter Magazine, Fullosia Press, Greatworks, Green Dove, Indite Circle, International Poet, Listen & Be Heard, Living Poets, Madpoetry, Melange, Newtopia, New Verse News, Peace Not War Japan, Planet Authority, Poetry Canada, Poetry of Scotland, Poetry Stop, Poets for Peace, Poetry Superhighway, Pyramid, Sz, The Smoking Poet, Ygdrasil, Ya’Sou! and Zafusy.




I feature a new poet with this issue, the person is Cinnary.  Here are the two works submitted:



Black Orchid


In solitude, the mimosa rises in hopes of
catching your dramatic presentation.
Sunlight splinters into kaleidoscope shards
as it finds you in an unrobed window,
to touch your face of creamy velvet.

Your limbs awake and spread in hues
of dusk before dawn, no one marking
the contradistinction of ebony upon black.
Pinches of peony pink grace your cheeks
with highlights of spun gold.

New birth unfurls beneath your glory
showing their colors of sprightly spring green,
as they tip their heads downward.
Shy, and startled from slumber by prismatic
panes of spider web, laden with dew.


No e's


So soft and unassuming
Your truth unknown
Bound by faults that control no
Wanton display of amorous sin

Captions from lips drift
In mid air, floating on clouds
Of untruths and daring acts
Within a soul of brass.

Pools of brown orbs look
Into a mirror, placating your
Rills of unknown fury falling
From a catchall tomb.

Absorb my light, my soul song,
Drown my sorrows in your hands,
Honor my truth,
For you do not own any.

Cinnarry
cinnarry@yahoo.com




NEWS FROM THE 'ZINE

Dina Televitskaya has just published a collection of her poetry.  The chapbook is called It Is Necessary to Live!.  It is published through Borey Art Centre, St. Petersburg Russia.  Send her an email for more information.  

Closing Words

This has been a great couple of weeks, and with a break in the action I can put this ezine together.  I'm a Tigers fan and they've been on an incredible run during the 2006 playoffs.  In fact they are American League Champions and are simply waiting for the National League to decide who will face them for the World Series

With this news, I conclude the issue.  Enjoy reading the interview and the poetry.  I'll look forward to your comment and works for the next issue.

As always, the works contained are copyrighted by the authors, respect their works. 

www.abovegroundtesting.com
paul@abovegroundtesting.com