An ode to the man I consider my primary drum teacher. Now in his 70's, for me he is a sage that speaks with his hands. In a tradition like djembe drumming that has a hell of a lot of ego attached to it in both person and playing style, Famoudou is a djembefola ("one who makes the djembe speak") of both magnanimity and humble grace, a true master whose style merely accentuates the beauty of what he does rather than dominating the music.
Water flows from mountains
Rhythmically,
Merging sky and earth.
His is a wordless poetry,
Phonetic beauty
In beats.
If drums are fire
And drummers are lightning,
Then his purpose is water
Shaping the thunder.
Joy is simplicity,
His joy is simple:
Take what is already there
-the apparent beauty-
And make for it an altar
To exalt the dusty feet
Of the dancing earth.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Remembering Jigar
I wrote this the night my beloved maternal grandmother passed away in Los Angeles. It happened to be Memorial Day. Jigar is what my sister and I called her, it's Armenian for "liver," which might sound strange but it is a term of endearment since liver is a delicacy. In her life she lived through, witnessed, and was directly affected by two world wars, the French and then American involvement in Vietnam, radical Islam in the Middle East, and the Civil Rights struggle in America. Thus, to me it seemed rather ironic that after nine and a half decades of human misfortune she gave up her tiny body on Memorial Day. My mother and I were not present when her heart finally stopped, but we were there shortly after to give our prayers and blessings, my mother in her Christian way and me in my own way. It will always be one of the most profound experiences of my life. I will always remember Memorial Day for my own reasons.
May 29, 2006
This is a day of memories
Strewn red with blood
Under blue skies
Pasted over white skin,
Life fleeing from life.
This is a day of death-
Remembrance of those forgotten by god,
Those children who grew up too fast,
Sacrifices upon the altars of democracy,
The altars of communism,
Religions, nations, natural resources;
But you, dear Jigar,
You are my natural resource
And now I remember your depletion,
The completion of your life,
The cease-fire of your strife-
You have called your truce with pain
Your suffering is not in vain
So long as my veins carry your rivers
Until I too will merge with the sea.
The moon is a crescented bull horn,
A celestial megaphone beckoning your soul.
The sun will rise without you
And without your voice.
I will carry your memorial day
Until the end of my days.
The land is full of death.
Your ultimate breath fills the air
Pushing the circumference of a hospital room
With the warmth of your ethereal fire;
I see your tired body,
Spent,
No longer subject to sinking
Just floating
Waiting for the ashes to be brought forth.
For the last few years I have known
Only your eyes
And the primacy of your throat,
Long gone has been your voice calling me
-“Bala”-
Did you acknowledge in your silent way
When I finally cut my hair?
Did you realize your legacy to the world
In the flowers I presented to you,
Your great-grandchildren?
Yes, they are great and grand children
And they will know your name
For all it’s worth.
I wonder
Who came to meet you
At the crossroads?
Did you recognize their light?
Beyond ceiling tiles bleached white
And the mechanical lifelines,
Did you recognize your fatigue?
Only death clouds my eyes
Amidst the concrete and steel of this city-
The piles of trash and airless air-
I see flowers rich with meaning,
I see tropical abundance and life
In these plant teachers of the urban wilderness,
But only death clouds my eyes
The way life was a cloud in yours.
I see your mouth agape
Perched upon your head like a mysterious cave,
I see your body’s husk
A seashell adorned with the bells of death.
Still your hand
Grip tight no longer
Release the decades of your misfortune
Into my amethyst rocks
Rolling in amber tides.
I will watch for you this night
I will speak a spell
To illustrate the door of your departure
I will anoint your noble brow
With the oil of frankincense
And bless you where the world neglected you.
I crown you queen of the dead
And I declare this day for your passing,
You need not be a stranger amongst the dead,
Our ancestors have awaited you
And now a thousand eyes of a thousand years
Converge upon your crown
Flocking like hummingbirds to your Kali flower
Drawing forth your life into fourth dimension fruit.
May 29, 2006
This is a day of memories
Strewn red with blood
Under blue skies
Pasted over white skin,
Life fleeing from life.
This is a day of death-
Remembrance of those forgotten by god,
Those children who grew up too fast,
Sacrifices upon the altars of democracy,
The altars of communism,
Religions, nations, natural resources;
But you, dear Jigar,
You are my natural resource
And now I remember your depletion,
The completion of your life,
The cease-fire of your strife-
You have called your truce with pain
Your suffering is not in vain
So long as my veins carry your rivers
Until I too will merge with the sea.
The moon is a crescented bull horn,
A celestial megaphone beckoning your soul.
The sun will rise without you
And without your voice.
I will carry your memorial day
Until the end of my days.
The land is full of death.
Your ultimate breath fills the air
Pushing the circumference of a hospital room
With the warmth of your ethereal fire;
I see your tired body,
Spent,
No longer subject to sinking
Just floating
Waiting for the ashes to be brought forth.
For the last few years I have known
Only your eyes
And the primacy of your throat,
Long gone has been your voice calling me
-“Bala”-
Did you acknowledge in your silent way
When I finally cut my hair?
Did you realize your legacy to the world
In the flowers I presented to you,
Your great-grandchildren?
Yes, they are great and grand children
And they will know your name
For all it’s worth.
I wonder
Who came to meet you
At the crossroads?
Did you recognize their light?
Beyond ceiling tiles bleached white
And the mechanical lifelines,
Did you recognize your fatigue?
Only death clouds my eyes
Amidst the concrete and steel of this city-
The piles of trash and airless air-
I see flowers rich with meaning,
I see tropical abundance and life
In these plant teachers of the urban wilderness,
But only death clouds my eyes
The way life was a cloud in yours.
I see your mouth agape
Perched upon your head like a mysterious cave,
I see your body’s husk
A seashell adorned with the bells of death.
Still your hand
Grip tight no longer
Release the decades of your misfortune
Into my amethyst rocks
Rolling in amber tides.
I will watch for you this night
I will speak a spell
To illustrate the door of your departure
I will anoint your noble brow
With the oil of frankincense
And bless you where the world neglected you.
I crown you queen of the dead
And I declare this day for your passing,
You need not be a stranger amongst the dead,
Our ancestors have awaited you
And now a thousand eyes of a thousand years
Converge upon your crown
Flocking like hummingbirds to your Kali flower
Drawing forth your life into fourth dimension fruit.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Unnatural Disaster
The world’s greatest
Unnatural disaster is
Brought to you by:
The BIG PENIS
At British Petroleum,
Where we shove
Mechanical cocks
Into your mother
Fucking her into submission.
A bloody black
Oil spill is a nocturnal emission,
A sexual dream
Culminating in
Petroleum cream,
It’s an endless orgasm
That threatens all our relations
Like some monstrous
Venereal disease.
They wanted her to come
And here she is,
Kali has come
And death creeps
In slick sheets
Seeping from salty wounds.
What’s the prophylactic
For this climactic shift
That has opened a rift
In despoiled seas
Like a vagina
Whose virgin pleas
Wind up fucked in your gashole?
Unnatural disaster is
Brought to you by:
The BIG PENIS
At British Petroleum,
Where we shove
Mechanical cocks
Into your mother
Fucking her into submission.
A bloody black
Oil spill is a nocturnal emission,
A sexual dream
Culminating in
Petroleum cream,
It’s an endless orgasm
That threatens all our relations
Like some monstrous
Venereal disease.
They wanted her to come
And here she is,
Kali has come
And death creeps
In slick sheets
Seeping from salty wounds.
What’s the prophylactic
For this climactic shift
That has opened a rift
In despoiled seas
Like a vagina
Whose virgin pleas
Wind up fucked in your gashole?
BP
BP--
Bellicose pompous
Brash penis
Belligerently pumping
Big profits
Blind people
Bringing poison
Building prisons
By propagating
Bullshit propaganda:
“Buy products!”
Bi-partisan
Banal politics
Bi-polar
Beyond parity
But please
Be proper
Before pumping
Big profits
Buffeting pensions
Belittling people
By proliferating
Buried poisons
Bellicose pompous
Brash penis
Belligerently pumping
Big profits
Blind people
Bringing poison
Building prisons
By propagating
Bullshit propaganda:
“Buy products!”
Bi-partisan
Banal politics
Bi-polar
Beyond parity
But please
Be proper
Before pumping
Big profits
Buffeting pensions
Belittling people
By proliferating
Buried poisons
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Patriarchy defined
Patriarchy defined:
The attempted ownership
Of all the pussy.
What is a wife?
A piece of property
Propagating
Sons who acquire wealth
And daughters known as
Dowry.
What is a woman?
An object of desire
Designated as
Domestic,
Consigned to duty
Doing dishes and
Polishing your Polish sausage.
What is a mother?
An emotional complex
Complicating
A man’s need to spill seeds
In any moist garden,
Someone to complain about
Cuz you haven’t pulled them weeds.
What is the land?
Another piece of property
Partitioned
Into monetary value
And raped for all she’s worth,
And when she can’t put out
She’ll swallow the leftovers
Like a cheap whore,
But you’d just call it a landfill.
What is the sea?
A saline solution
Absorbing
Poison from upriver,
Rivers whose naturally curved bodies
Were carved into straight
Stiff channels that cram chemicals
Coming upon the sea
In wads of waste.
What is an emotion?
An interference with manly
Machinations
That are stillborn in childhood
When you learned quickly
That feeling things made you
A pussy.
What is a pussy?
The object of patriarchy
Prizing
Possession of power in the raw.
It’s something OB/GYN’s transform
Into medical maladies,
Something Proctor&Gamble
Insert bleached cotton phalluses into,
Something some chemistry dude
Made odor-free,
Something that mustn’t smell,
Must not offend,
Like the forest
With her unkempt hair,
Like the sea
And her wet fish.
It’s for sale and it’s on DVD,
It’ll put you in jail or set you free,
It’s a sin and it’s God-given too,
Don’t worry about heaven,
You’ve got a muff to dive into.
Patriarchy defined:
The attempted ownership
Of all the pussy
With no regard
For integrity
Nor gratitude.
The attempted ownership
Of all the pussy.
What is a wife?
A piece of property
Propagating
Sons who acquire wealth
And daughters known as
Dowry.
What is a woman?
An object of desire
Designated as
Domestic,
Consigned to duty
Doing dishes and
Polishing your Polish sausage.
What is a mother?
An emotional complex
Complicating
A man’s need to spill seeds
In any moist garden,
Someone to complain about
Cuz you haven’t pulled them weeds.
What is the land?
Another piece of property
Partitioned
Into monetary value
And raped for all she’s worth,
And when she can’t put out
She’ll swallow the leftovers
Like a cheap whore,
But you’d just call it a landfill.
What is the sea?
A saline solution
Absorbing
Poison from upriver,
Rivers whose naturally curved bodies
Were carved into straight
Stiff channels that cram chemicals
Coming upon the sea
In wads of waste.
What is an emotion?
An interference with manly
Machinations
That are stillborn in childhood
When you learned quickly
That feeling things made you
A pussy.
What is a pussy?
The object of patriarchy
Prizing
Possession of power in the raw.
It’s something OB/GYN’s transform
Into medical maladies,
Something Proctor&Gamble
Insert bleached cotton phalluses into,
Something some chemistry dude
Made odor-free,
Something that mustn’t smell,
Must not offend,
Like the forest
With her unkempt hair,
Like the sea
And her wet fish.
It’s for sale and it’s on DVD,
It’ll put you in jail or set you free,
It’s a sin and it’s God-given too,
Don’t worry about heaven,
You’ve got a muff to dive into.
Patriarchy defined:
The attempted ownership
Of all the pussy
With no regard
For integrity
Nor gratitude.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mother's Day
Okasan-
A river
Flowing
A peach
Blossoming
Okasan-
An origin story
In my veins
An ancestral library
Beating in my heart
Okasan-
A tabernacle of stones
Temple of beauty
Dreamer
Talking to God
Okasan-
Tiger
Wears mouse fur
Raven
Wears human hair
Okasan-
Sheet of nori
Swimming in my miso
A bowl of rice
Sticking to my ribs
Okasan
Mystic
Mother
Okasan
Elder
Woman
*"okasan" is Japanese for mother. it's what i call my mother and has more meaning and feeling to me than just calling her "mom."
A river
Flowing
A peach
Blossoming
Okasan-
An origin story
In my veins
An ancestral library
Beating in my heart
Okasan-
A tabernacle of stones
Temple of beauty
Dreamer
Talking to God
Okasan-
Tiger
Wears mouse fur
Raven
Wears human hair
Okasan-
Sheet of nori
Swimming in my miso
A bowl of rice
Sticking to my ribs
Okasan
Mystic
Mother
Okasan
Elder
Woman
*"okasan" is Japanese for mother. it's what i call my mother and has more meaning and feeling to me than just calling her "mom."
Spring
Madrona
Scatters
Snowy white
Bells
Undresses
Its burnt umber
Bark
Cherry
Erupts
Delicate feathers
Petaled clouds
Tied to branches
Inviting
Dreamy fruit
Fern
Unfurls
Sleepy flags
Waking up
Remembering
Dinosaurs
Defying logic
Pea vetch
Erecting
Leafy ladders
Tendrils
Touching voids
Climbing
Seeking the sun
Lilac
Kissing
A thousand lips
Tasting
Tongues of bees
Inviting
Lovers embracing
Fir
Painting
Green splashes
Greener
Brush tips
Expanding
Needle fingers
Dandelion
Populating
Children’s imagination
Flowering butter
Floating fairies
Ever present
Like the sky
Sunshine
Radiating
Sprouted seeds
Coaxing
Sleeping life
Raining
Toward summer
Scatters
Snowy white
Bells
Undresses
Its burnt umber
Bark
Cherry
Erupts
Delicate feathers
Petaled clouds
Tied to branches
Inviting
Dreamy fruit
Fern
Unfurls
Sleepy flags
Waking up
Remembering
Dinosaurs
Defying logic
Pea vetch
Erecting
Leafy ladders
Tendrils
Touching voids
Climbing
Seeking the sun
Lilac
Kissing
A thousand lips
Tasting
Tongues of bees
Inviting
Lovers embracing
Fir
Painting
Green splashes
Greener
Brush tips
Expanding
Needle fingers
Dandelion
Populating
Children’s imagination
Flowering butter
Floating fairies
Ever present
Like the sky
Sunshine
Radiating
Sprouted seeds
Coaxing
Sleeping life
Raining
Toward summer
Knife
The knife is a greeting--
It introduces itself with
Its silvery smile
Shining its sharpness.
This knife will part the skin
Seeking blood that opens
Like a flower upon the rock.
The knife is my menstrual cramp
When a spirit breathes within me
And aches to be born.
The precision of folded steel
Precipitates sacrificial flesh.
What have I to offer?
What have I to give
In recognition of my roots
Fruiting upon the land?
I trade blood for blessings:
Something to flow outward
Welcoming what flows inward.
Take not life in vain
But recognize this
Pain
As pangs of guilt
Subdued through washing steel
With life’s fabric.
This knife cuts closest
To the thin veil
Clothing skin
Over the eternal river.
It seeks the axis of symmetry
Binding past, present and future
Generations,
Bringing forth remembrance,
Sacrificial gratitude
And the liquid of time’s transmutation.
It introduces itself with
Its silvery smile
Shining its sharpness.
This knife will part the skin
Seeking blood that opens
Like a flower upon the rock.
The knife is my menstrual cramp
When a spirit breathes within me
And aches to be born.
The precision of folded steel
Precipitates sacrificial flesh.
What have I to offer?
What have I to give
In recognition of my roots
Fruiting upon the land?
I trade blood for blessings:
Something to flow outward
Welcoming what flows inward.
Take not life in vain
But recognize this
Pain
As pangs of guilt
Subdued through washing steel
With life’s fabric.
This knife cuts closest
To the thin veil
Clothing skin
Over the eternal river.
It seeks the axis of symmetry
Binding past, present and future
Generations,
Bringing forth remembrance,
Sacrificial gratitude
And the liquid of time’s transmutation.
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