In the late 1990's on Vermont Avenue in artsy Los Feliz, The Onyx Cafe Sunday readings were like going to church. Under the organizational skills of LA Poet Milo Martin and Poet Ben Porter Lewis, there was a motley crew of musicians gathered at the front of the room ready to drum, blow, strum or plunk behind a poet in an accompaniment, intended to comp a poet's spoken word piece, a rant by a performance artist, or a television personality dabbling with the cool of the LA Poetry scene.
Milo Martin is originally from The Bay Area of Northern California, but he's an LA Poet now, and the LA Poetry Scene is blessed to have him. He is amongst a dedicated few, responsible for keeping the Poetry alive in this city and as an Emcee and organizer, Martin is a class act.
Milo's style is poet universality and is of both the new and the old, a perfect mix of daddio-ism and hjppie HIP HOP schizms. His persona is consistent with his poetry, which is consistent of that blend of the old and the new poetry, which is a defining trait of LA Poetry overall.
In other words, he's a little bit of beat poetry and the beat is evident in every thing he does or delivers. He is a little bit of SLAM poetry, and as co-founder of the original Hollywood/Los Feliz Slam Poetry Team which included such dynamic and luminous poets such as Ben Porter Lewis, Yvonne de la Vega Nathan Green and Chris Tannahil. He lead later teams to become the National Slam Champs in 2004 and 2005.
Milo Martin is little bit of a New Age poet as well, with his calling card number of 11:11 the number of harmony and higher consciousness.
Milo Martin is more than just a little Rock 'n Roll, after having completed four International Spoken Word tours with the International Ensemble POESIE UNITED, a group of poet/musicians whose performances were a talent filled round of spoken word and musicianship, each playing several instruments, each musician being a published poet. He's about to embark on yet another tour at the end of this year.
Milo holds a Master's in Poetics from USC. The only way one could possibly be a little bit of all of the above, from one universal extreme to the other is simple. Attain a Master's Degree in Poetry, and go barefoot crooning the spoken word in every sentence during conversation even if it is with your mother, think in cool whimsical poetry thought processing, release lyrical musings in prose, and live everyday with a mindset of " live and let live" That is Milo Martin.
He is a free spirit and socially aware poet and Intellect, LA's first choice emcee for LA Poetry readings of the larger scale, the roster usually a list of the up and coming new young poets or school teachers like A.K. Tony, performance artists of unique flavor such as Jerry the Priest, and heavy hitters like Rich Fergeson.
Milo Martin's events and collaborations have been a steady contribution to the LA Poetry Scene, as well as The LA Poetry & Music Scene with his Onyx Cafe residency, a definite mark in time in LA Poetry post-mod history.
Milo's poetic style can be described as melancholy metaphysical. He coined the term and represents the Utopian Nihilist movement in 21st Century poetry.
His collection of poetry and art, Poems for the Utopian Nihilist on Echo Park Press is available on Amazon and in Los Angeles at Book Soup, Skylight Books and Village Books,
Poems for the Utopian Nihilist is a sound collection of Martin's work. Each poem is diverse, yet each is intelligent, clever and consistently spoken in Milo Martin's unique voice:
"Milo Martin rides the third rail of vese and sngs the poem electric. the hungry wolf of words, he is the dancer and the dance." -- S.A. Griffin, Co-Editor of The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry and author of Numbskull Sutra
"...ethereal, luxurious, patient, elegant, seductive - and this is especially true of the work in this volume - also profound, melancholy, political, violent, spiked and sharp, like licking honey off a thorn." -- Shana Nys Dambrot, Managing Editor of Flavorpill
She Said Simile
She said it's like falling asleep in the snow
like your bathwater growing slowly cold
She said it's like holding scissors against the soft part of your inner arm
like watching a medieval barn decay
She said it's like following an ambulance deep into the suburbs
like kneeling alone in a cathedral listening to candles
She said it's like putting your coat on getting ready to leave
like witnessing the runt of the litter struggle for a teat
She said it's like being so young before the war
like learning not to talk to people you shouldn't
She said it's like combing the hair of a balding man
like coming home to find your goldfish on the floor
She said it's like tripping in a three-legged picnic race
like having to phone information for your own number
She said it's like dead leaves folding under the mud and the broken glass
like climbing seven flights of stairs to a soiree gone bad
She said it's like waking up and not knowing where you are sometimes
like not owning a ticket for where you want to go
She said it's like deer who've lost their footing in the forest inferno
like geese blown off course by the merciless winter wind
She said it's like your axle coming unhinged around a tight corner
like singing for your supper to the Ethiopian night
She said it's like, it's like, it's like a simile without a corresponding image
like a DeMaupassant story with the last page torn out
She said it's like blowing smoke rings with your eyes closed
like rings of smoke slipping through the seals of your eyes
She said it's like finishing your last cigarette
and putting it out on the floor with your foot
She said it's like, she said it's like,
she said
it's like That…
- Milo Martin
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