October 15-21, 2007: Radomir Vojtech Luza and P.R. Ross

week of October 15-21, 2007

Radomir Vojtech Luza and P.R Ross

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Radomir Vojtech Luza
radluza@sbcglobal.net

Bio (auto)

Radomir Vojtech Luza is poet and writer who has had over 100 poems published in journals and anthologies such as The Boston Globe, Seldom Nocturne, San Gabriel Valley Quarterly, Nomad’s Choir, Poet’s Attic, Eintouist, Nerve Cowboy, Sahara, Spare Change, Writers of the Desert Sage, New Laurel Review, Medicinal Purposes and Papyrus He believes in some sort of balance between passion and intellect and spirit and reason Radomir lives in Los Angeles’ San Fernando Valley (North Hollywood) hoping every day for some kind of happy medium between art and commerce and finding just about none.  He was a virgin before moving here from New York City (Jersey City) and splitting from his wife Monica about 14 months ago
His work has also been published in newspapers and magazines such as The Times-Picayune in New Orleans, Jersey Journal in Jersey City, NJ, The Aquarian Arts Weekly in North NJ (Theatre Critic), Sun Community Newspapers in Studio City, CA, Creative Loafing in Atlanta, Bucks County Courier-Times outside Philadelphia and Dixie magazine, New Orleans magazine, Where magazine and The Clarion-Herald in New Orleans
Radomir is Editor and Publisher of the literary journal VOICES IN THE LIBRARY through dancing Sprite Publications, the publishing arm of his Radman Productions He has been anthologized in publications including AN EYE FOR AN EYE MAKES THE WHOLE WORLD BLIND (9-11 Anthology) (Regent Press), IN OUR OWN WORDS (MW Enterprises) TWO-HEADED KITTY (Rogue Scholars Press) and THE SHORE POETS CASINO
Radomir has published eight collections of poetry and a collection of vignettes and essays in addition to writing four books, a sitcom pilot, a screenplay and eleven plays His play Curious Tumor was staged and produced at The NY Int’l Film and Video Festival (2000) and The American Theatre of Actors in NYC (2004) before becoming a SAG Short Film Agreement in Los Angeles (2006). Radomir is currently casting and shooting the film
His work has also apeared on the internet in such places as RogueScholars.com, Poetz.com, LucidMoonPoetry.com and PoetryMagazine.com

Luza is Czech by birth and moved to the United States in 1966 after being born in Vienna, Austria in 1963 His father, Radomir Luza Sr was a prominent member of The Czech resistance during the Second World War, He earned a PhD at NYU and tought Eastern Europian History at Tulane University in New Orleans for 25 years in 2003 he published his autobiography, The HITLER KISS (LSU Press), by far the most mainstream and succesful of his seven books

Radomir’s mother Libuse Podhraska was the youngest member of The Czech National Dramatic Conservatory at 15 before Adolf Hitler closed down all the schools in Czechoslovakia in 1943. She and my father escaped their homeland with one suitcase as political refugees in 1948 when Communism took hold They moved to New York City in 1953 and New Orleans in 1966 before retiring to Langhorne, PA outside Philadelphia in 1993. My mother never acted professionally again before her death of Ovarian Cancer in 2001. My father, 85, lives in Blue Bell, PA

Radomir’s sister Sabrina resides in Manhatan Beach, CA with her husband of 14 years Michael, an attorney, and two children, Leighton, 11 and Nicholas, 9
For more information on Radomir and his production company Radman Productions go to ollav.com/radluza or log on to his profile page at www.myspace.com/radomir

The following work is Copyright © 2007, and owned by Radomir Vojtech Luza and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Movie

I’m watching Julia, the movie
Like madmen their skulls torn to smithereens
Like Jane Fonda watched another Oscar dissapear
Like all the white anger
And yellow pity in me sits with nowhere to go
I sit and watch Julia at 5:58 this Monday morning remembering how I used to watch and
Write in the living room of my old 3-bedroom apartment in Jersey City
Before I left my wife
Before I settled in Los Angeles
Before before even existed
And I want like Julia to matter
To make a difference
To feed the hungry
To house the homeless
To clothe the naked
To heal the sick
But all I do is sit on this damn brown couch and write
Will it heal and moan like a hungry tornado
Or can it make some kind of difference
In this beautiful very ugly world
I want absolutes
All I get are grays
I want love
All I get is pity
I, I, I always I am a self-absorbed rubber ball bouncing
Between now and then
Life and death
Possibility and sacrifice
I want to do more
Live larger
And love again
But right now only the writing matters
Like a bullfighter to his set of horns
I want to stop the Nazis and fight for Democracy
Kill me some fish and eat them
I want to see a clear dark night
And an unseen seen
I want to breathe fresh air and try on batman’s cape
I want to be all the things and see all the rivers
I dreamed of as a child
Julia walks through a Parisian Hotel
Hell, I want to go to Paris again and see London and Rome for the first time
But I have to write
Like the gazelle runs and the tiger stalks
And the peacock struts
Like Julia fought facism and Jesus did sin
But the sun is coming-up
And writing on the edges is clumsy and sick
And I want to finish watching this movie
Before ink spills on page again
Like hands do open wound
Unicorns do paradise
And Germany did the Jews


P.R Ross
pross89@gmail.com

Bio (auto)

My name is P.R Ross I currently live outside of Atlanta I’m originally from Cleveland, OH I am not a professional writer or a notable poet but it seems that putting words onto the page is the only thing that keeps me going these days

The following work is Copyright © 2007, and owned by P.R Ross and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Circling the Drain

i always think of great, world-changing ideas
as I scrub the filth from my teeth
with mint-flavored paste in the morning hours the second I spit
and watch it circle the drain
my great, world-changing ideas
follow its same dizzy path
down the tubes to the sewer
with everyone else’s shit and piss then I’ll stare in the mirror
and start to hate myself
i’m the only one who truly knows me
so I’m the only one who hates me
everyone else loves me
and my wit
and my humor they all say, “Jack Stone is one helluva guy!”
and they’ll pat me on the back and flash me genuine smiles
maybe I bring out the best in them i spit out the last of the mint-flavored paste and hit the faucet
as it disappears from the sink
i imagine my microscopic self drowning in the residue
circling that drain,
beginning my expedition to the shit and piss-filled sewers
and for a second
I feel alright.


When We Were Men

we used to climb on top of this old abandoned building
and smoke stolen cigarettes from his mom’s purse we told ourselves we were men
as we stared at the faded concrete below
spitting on the passersby walking to and from
office buildings,
squandering their lives in eight-hour shifts
a few would scream at us,
“you little bastards!”
but most kept walking,
too afraid to look up and see where the spit was coming from
maybe thinking it was god spitting on them
like he does to all of us from time-to-time
peeking through the breaks in the clouds.

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