Southern Anti Racism Network Fundraiser, Friday, July 15th

Some homework reading for Friday:

UntitledWe are all humans .

There is no doubt, even though this poem is 20 years old, the this type of problem

is now a lot worse than back then.

                     

The Fundraiser starts at 6pm on Friday, July 15th as Unexposed Microcinema.  There will be poems and music and readings, and pleas for unity.  The goal is $2900, but the much bigger goal is community building and a change in the way people interact.  Why is Durham still so polarized by race, economic status, religion, when allowing the media to determine who our enemies are should be ignored in favor of finding out who are friends are IN PERSON, not in electronica.

 UNEXPOSED Microcinema

105 Hood Street #5 Durham NC 27701.

This is just around the corner from the intersection of E. Main St. and Fayetteville Street. It’s behind JC’s Kitchen, and down the block from Ponysaurus.

See you soon!

 

Status Quo

                                            

For now the streets are cluttered:

The poor kill off the poor,

But this won’t last forever

If the “Quo” keeps getting worse.

 

Guns for sale in neighborhoods

Where crime is the only living

Quarts and vials and bullets

Take without ever giving.

 

“Innocent” bystanders

Are the ones to blame.

Standing by in times like these

Leaves everything the same.

 

The quo goes “living standards

Will be on the decline.”

While multi-national barons

Continue their money climb.

 

No chums around a fireplace

When you can’t pay the bills.

While money-man is traveling

In search of bigger thrills.

 

Sooner rather than later

The poor will raise their arms.

Replacing all the suited men

Regardless of the harm.

 

The system as we know it’

Is fading thanks to this:

The greedy haven’t realized

Their life ain’t worth a piss.

 

The ticking clock inside the bomb

Has passed the witching hour.

There is little hope for most,

So when will freedom flower?

 

It will when people with the time

Turn to lend a hand,

It will when greedy governors

Give back a hunk of land

 

The quo has made it possible

For us to live like rats.

Your life to them means nothing

You could end up a stat.

 

As the status quo gets worse

Violence rules the day.

We better help each other now.

Let us pray.

Genoicde, Slavery, Greed

Genocide, Slavery, Greed

 

We cry for the slavery that led to such wealth,

This is not just  the land of the free.

We witness genocide all over this earth.

What can we do to end greed?

 

We cry for the land, full of modified crops

We must work to save human life.

What will our grandchildren have to live through

Since our appetite causes such strife?

 

The oil wars that started a decade ago

Have moved toward the Caspian Sea.

We are the dissidents, loud, without fear,

Even if we are cut at the knees.

 

We cry for the news they keep off TV,

The grapevine could snap any day.

Disinformation is the age we live in,

So who’s going to show us the way?

 

The answer is simple, we grow as a team,

A new brotherhood in the light.

We must build the village, invite all your friends,

This is no time to give up the fight!

 

They have all the bombs, the juntas abound,

Monsanto is spraying the poor.

We must dig our hands into arable land

Or genetics will foul every spore.

 

Profit mongers have sucked the earth dry,

We must reclaim all that we can.

Industrial China, the last frontier,

Soon money will own every man.

 

The kids on the streets are locked-down together,

Push a bike, and you could get ten years!

All this is forced because we stopped caring,

Yet some offer blood, sweat and tears.

 

We couldn’t stop bosses from shipping our jobs,

The replacement is for-profit jails.

Our schools are rotting, so teach if you can,

Where it counts, not Harvard or Yale.

 

The time is upon us, united as friends

We can make anything grow.

Come join the party, sing and dance all the day,

Tomorrow we get out the vote.

 

We cry for the genocide, slavery, greed

That persists after thousands of years.

It’s late, but there’s time, if we really work hard

We can stop the torrent of tears.

Liebster Award: a conversation starter and major ego boost?

I was nominated for a Liebster…again!  Wow this is so amazing.

Drop to the bottom of this blog to see if you were nominated by me.

erospea.wordpress.com  aka Spaginazioni Poetiche aka Dora

is the beautiful woman who nominated me.

The Liebster logo looks like this:

untitled

her questions to me are these:

My questions to nominees (plus Doug’s answers):

  1. What is your view on ‘”intercultural”?

If everyone were intercultural and studied more about each other’s cultures, the world would have a chance of being more peaceful IF, and it’s giant IF, those in control at the top actually gave a hoot about how those regular folks feel. Sadly, there is always an excuse for war, at least in the minds of those representing war profits in their jobs as professional elected officials.  Thus in many governments, but most importantly the big powerful ones (See USA, China, Russia, Japan, and Saudi Arabia first) those making decisions are fully owned subsidiaries of big corporate business.  Democracy cannot, or has not, been able to change this.

2) If I say “gestural language”?

Then I think body language, and at the precise moment someone else is falling in love with you they will say it with their body (their eyes, reaching a hand toward you, etc.) first, mouth and words second.  OK maybe even mouth before words if the attraction is strong enough.  Gestural language is more than ballet or giving someone the finger then, by a long shot.  You can really commune with wild animals if both you and the critter believe in gestures.
3)  Your own reflection on the “nomadism”

I have lived in 16 cities since I was 16 years old.  All of my own volition except two.  Traveling and WORKING in other cultures is a great way to live a full life.  I want to know how Ms. or mister “Jo/Joe on the street” sees the world, what influences them, and why.  Tourist, no.  Live there for a year+, yes.
4) Tell me something about your culture of belonging

My culture is a violent, yet caring, warmongering, yet peace donating, hate yet love kinda place.  Some of the great benefactors of the world came from the USA, after they made money by underpaying workers and raping the environment.  Such potential, often wasted on spending zillions on foreign wars.
5) What is your thought on “religion”?

I think spirituality is worth seeking out and getting better at.  it’s nice to try to commune with “the Creator,” but most religions falter when fundamentalists take over.  Hence, “which is worse, a fundamentalist Christian or a fundamentalist Muslim?”  Answer:  they are equally despicable, and are leading their legions down the path to continual war…not a path found in the books of either religion.  Dang war hounds.


6) If I tell you “childhood”?

Childhood is to be supported and encouraged throughout everyone’s lives.  Especially the lives of children.  Education is important, but so is walking around and learning things from nature on your own.  It’s hard to be functioning at a high level if your parents did all the chores for you so you could study or practice music ONLY.  If we allow our children some time to learn about how things work THEMSELVES, they will be able to learn anything they put their minds too.  Keep them away from electronics and out in the field.


7) Do you have a dream?

My dream is that one day my art or music actually is recognized by someone other than myself.  To that extent, even when I was playing music in bar bands, there have ALWAYS been people who supported my creativity.  That’s the miracle you have to believe in to keep going.  You won’t always get in the New Yorker or the Whitney Biennale, but if someone ever asks for a copy of the poem you just read, or buys or accepts as a gift your art, or cheers for the song you just played, dance you just danced, speech you delivered with panache…then soak it in and keep it rolling.  Teaching is like a continual boost of your ideas, if in the right school.  My dream is to sit at a simple meal or tea and talk to people I agree with: learn something from those I disagree with.


8) What role do you think the “Art” can play in society in relation to the your local context and in a broader view?

Art, like anything, is in the eye of the beholder.  The world has thousands of protests artists, musicians, poets, novelists, but it depends who sees it, hears it, takes it in and is influenced by it.  In some cultures art is quite important, in others people make art almost in a vacuum.  In the end, the universe takes care of artists…I don’t know how, but it works.  As a society, any given culture would be wise to listen to its artists, to support them, as without creativity, many become a burden on society.  is it better to support an artists who only paints or sculpts or dances, and is dirt poor because they spend their whole lives with their craft, refusing to wait on tables?  or is it better to watch someone become dejected because THEY ARE NOT FOLLOWING THEIR DREAMS, and then commit a crime, or do harm to themselves?  Easy answer here:  support who you can in their dreams because that puts you on the path of realizing your own.


9) What is your idea about “sexuality”?

I think sex is great.  Those who deny it are missing out on God’s gift.  The Native Americans who walked my space in upstate New York years ago, were naturalists in their spirituality.  To them, at least as far as I know, making love was the highest homage to the Creator.  Easy to understand:  it’s because making love (at least the traditional forms of sex) meant that you were joining the Creator in the miracle of life (or at least a chance of making a new life) and thus, if you love, and love your life, and love your mate’s life, producing a child is a way of spreading the love.  The Creator surely smiles on love making.  If you and your mate can’t spread the love via making a baby, you ARE however spreading the love amongst yourselves, and helping your mate to be at peace in the world, and helping society by being in love and showing others how good your love is.  Thus, sexuality, when coupled with love, is just about the best thing you can do in private that helps the public good.  If lucky, you find a partner who loves sex as much and as often as you do.


10) There is a place where you love to go when you want to feel peace and well-being?

Outside.  In the Woods.  I used to paint outside, I still write outside.  I can also be in pure bliss at my sons’s baseball game, or being a part of a crowd at a rock concert.Specifically, Canandaigua, New York, the lake, the hills, the creeks. It’s usually not where I go, but with whom I go.

Doug & Jim

And here are my nominees.  If you don’t want to play along, that’s fine.

soulspeak2013.wordpress.com

poetella.wordpress.com

toastandteatogether.wordpress.com

cristianmihai.wordpress.com

meandthe30dayproject.wordpress.com

nikkiskies.wordpress.com

lijiun.wordpress.com

patcegan.wordpress.com

thoughtcatalog.wordpress.com

momentarylapseofsanity.wordpress.com

AND YOUR QUESTIONS

  1. Can better communication save the world?
  2. Are all cultures equal, just different?  Or are some cultures stronger/better/more reasonable than others, and why?
  3. Name a philosophy/philosopher you agree with and why
  4. Don’t think long:  What is your favorite movie?
  5. If you could give one 30 minute speech that would create universal harmony among humans, what would the title be?  Or, write us the whole speech.
  6. Did you ever fall in love at first sight?  If so, explain, if not, what are the parameters that need to fall into place in order for you to fall in love?
  7. Your favorite flavor of ice cream.
  8. The teacher you remember most from grades 1-8, and why
  9. What do you want your children or your friends to remember most about you?
  10. Is it possible to rise above expectations, both cultural and familial, and make a unique life that is a positive light? If you’ve done that or are in the process, let us know how.

Art Music Poetry #95

This one is in Cypress owned by Ferridun, the singer.

This one is in Cypress owned by Ferridun, the singer.

Blatant fouls
distract virtuous
life. Even autumn
colors can’t pull us
together.

The penalty for
not thinking
is another round
of corruption, worldwide wage
slavery.

A girl in
an engineer’s cap
wraps an afghan on
her grandmother, gets
I-Pad news.

Hip swerving golfer
prances through
a coffee shop with
fully clothed three hybrid: a
sponsor’s gift.

Lifestyles, so
incongruent, mingle while
Wall Street adds
A hundred to the
Dow: record profits

magnify
obvious bias bestowed,
via GATT,
to owners of the
means of production.

Art Music Poetry #96

Kicevo Colony, Opus 1688, 48 x 48 inches

Kicevo Colony, Opus 1688, 48 x 36 inches

Jesus is a Liberal

Jesus Christ would not be proud
To see religion in this state. (Virginia that is.)
TV evangelists preach a canon of intolerance.
Jesus never expected people to hate in his name.

Building amusement parks in homage to God
Makes as much sense as waging war for Christ.
A god who attracts such diverse attentions
Is not a nice god or even a holy god.

He must be the god of money, or,
The god of land acquisition, or, perhaps
Even the god of death. Now that should
Set bells ringing in your bible-belt ears.

The god of death destroys life and love,
The god of death is worshipped in Lynchburg.

This Poem first appeared in “the Muse,” Edited by Ilya Kaminsky, 1997, Rochester, NY

Art Music Poetry #94

Cartoon face from fourth grade reviited

Cartoon face from fourth grade revisited

To Be Human

 

is to fall in love over and over,

to never give up on any of them,

to cry for the inhumanity, and try to

overcome all that surrounds us by creating

a closeness with those in proximity, both

geographical and philosophical.  It is to

carry those loves in our heart, flooding our

minds no matter how gone they are.  And

to put others’ needs first, understand their

flaws, work on our own so we can be

better helpers.  It is to take it all in and

follow our dreams no matter how preposterous;

to pull apart another brown paper bag and

to write it all out, no matter how choppy.

So take my hand and make it all better

before I repeat the painful parts until

I can no longer act.  To struggle past

obstructions and obligations, self imposed and

expected; to wallow in joy, build strength and

change what we can for the better. To live, to give.

Art Music Poetry #93

Spiritual Scuffle above Macedonia,2010,Kicevo Artist Colony

Spiritual Scuffle above Macedonia,2010,Kicevo Artist Colony

Bright eyes dig up a question from generations ago:

You want to know why the wind blew us

Together, how our sons will grow, when we will

Meet again, where will we be as one again?

Training gives you the desire to examine cause and

Effect.  Experiences about as wide apart as possible

Come at us, yet we harmonize, learn each other’s secrets,

Give what we know the other will love, provide

Sanctuary in a world spinning out of control for so

Many.  This I offer to distinguish myself from regular

Men, be they handsome or young: a complete heart

With continued support, undying gratitude, massage

Therapy, attempts at cooking, quite a way with words.

I expect you to smile when we chat, remain a solid

Force, a muse for my art, the reason I will always

Yearn for more, forever the target of happy life,

Memories (plans?) and a fresh heart, made whole

By the time we spent sincerely swirled, sufficiently

Molded to continually receive jolts of good news,

Connected forever by this love, complex, alive, strong.

Art Music Poetry #92

Opus 1700.Done at the Art Hotel Artist Colony, Kicevo, Macedonia, 2010,

Opus 1700.Done at the Art Hotel Artist Colony, Kicevo, Macedonia, 2010,

We’ve woven a web, you and I,
attached to the world, for no matter
how long, inscribed, though poorly, for
scant eyes, still, as bright a love aura as
has ever glowed, tightly wound around
our hearts, yet soaring miles above
Moodeung’s fog to warm cold February.
Sparks fly off a round-rock fire rarely seen
in these parts. We laugh, it feels like we
shouldn’t be here on a cold winter night,
just a few meters from trails so packed
during the day. This charge will never
leave. We’ve marked this space but must
go to where the stars shine, deer run, art springs.
Keep my heart in your brain, words in your hair.
Matched lifelong yearning bursts in my hand,
fluorescent. Quick, pack what you need, let’s
flee! live life in the positive zone, expand
what we enjoy together, bound by the luck
that brought us this far. Where to next?

Art Music Poetry #91

Opus 1703, Kicevo, Macedonia, 2010

Opus 1703, Kicevo, Macedonia, 2010

The featured image today is one of 350 names attached to crosses of innocent people who died during the US invasion of Iraq.  There is also the name of one US soldier in this artistic graveyard.  That is the ratio that has occurred there, and prompted this vastly inhuman refugee crisis:  350 innocents for every one soldier dead.  Oh.  Oh No.

Hikaru

One cherry blossom detaches, falls, aSINGLE unit
allowing fruit its space, starting its new journey: island
to reflecting pond, orchard to cottage yard, daughter to
lover, enhanced by the wind, if even for only six seconds.
Transformed to long-boned genius, long-yearning adult,
considerate friend, purple-green plaid from soft pink,
tan suede boots from four-petalled bloom. Hikaru, as they
say in Japan, hits the town running, arms crossed, cradling
herself like the war-torn victims of Vietnam, but not
worn or torn, she flings enthusiastic youth toward
outstretched limbs. She captures herBEGINNING and future
simultaneously, shedding one form, embracing another,
sweating humid Spring, still awkward in this skin.
Descending unannounced, she moves among mere mortals
Spreading joy, quietly demanding obedience,OFFERING all
in exchange for all. Most cannot accept, choose an
easier, less complicated path; but those brave strong souls
Born from deep roots blessed metamorphosed
beings who join Miss Cherry soon realize, if for one day,
week, or lifetime, their lives will never be the same.

art music poetry 69

Opus 1657, sold before it was dry to a UPS truck driver who saw it on the yard and had to have it

Opus 1657, sold before it was dry to a UPS truck driver who saw it on the yard and had to have it

Nine Slapper

Blue bird in the air,

Golden boy delights.

Skipping stones without a care,

Singing in the night.

Seagull pierces silence,

The dawn is on the rise.

Fishermen are busy

Watching for red skies.

River wanders, digging earth

Fertilizing soil.

Weekend mongers slobber

Spilling pints of oil.

Red-skinned native stands,

A reminder of the past.

Spearing fish and digging clams,

Hoping they will last.

Blue-eyed boy walks on,

Determined to have fun.

Lonely lovers cry,

Searching for the sun.

written at age 15

Art Music Poetry #89

Danny Boy, Kicevo Macedonia

Danny Boy, Kicevo Macedonia

To I.R. From J.D.S.

 

 

Intense rain drops, causes richer black

Bark on trees staring back in orange.

El Nino gives us late fall, late winter

Late drinks and late dinner.  Isabelle

Gave me a jab in the ribs and a wink

Of the eye, when, upon presenting a book

Full of fibs, I told a great-grand non-lie.

So life is good for a month or so, just on

The love I have had, of a woman

So rich with the world, that even a

Moment or two adds up to a visit

With god; or, if you please, one fine human.

Sit back and take in the show, “Blue

Velvet” has never looked better

Than on the back and shapely torso

Of this woman, who must be from heaven.

Art, Music Poetry #88

One Blue Fish, 1992 Acrylic and painted thistle leaves

One Blue Fish, 1992
Acrylic and painted thistle leaves

Dilemma Dance

Peripheral sunrise elongates table shadows, initiates morning calm
five days before the trip. This mixed-race neighborhood
finds curious children stepping toward friendship while parents
remain closed in busy lives with no time for old friends no less
a new batch. Small dose of warm leads to ping pong, kickball
and lacrosse. Fifteen Korean kids experience the U.S., try new
sports, speak English to strangers, love nightly contests, yet
bored by Disneyworld. Orange rays turn yellow, cause
dew-sparkle as a clank of dishwashing jolts early work-day
to life. This heart, shredded, strewn like superfluous jet fuel,
scatters onto February snow so remote no living thing can
detect the agony caused by having to choose between family
and friends or prime faculty position in a culture that routinely
rejects emotional outsiders and is built on hundreds of rules
that strictly judge behavior in order to instill “maturity” at the
price of spontaneity . No natural omens, like a darting cardinal
that prefigures any sound move have appeared. Aspirations change,
fulfillment occurs when newfound silence replaces blabbermouth
stupidity and yard play warms frozen tears as well as crowd cheers
ever did in the days before finding redemption in family and work.

Art Music Poetry 88

Hilltop Monestary, Kicevo, Macedonia

Hilltop Monestary, Kicevo, Macedonia

https://dougstuber.wordpress.com/2014/09/27/jesus-is-a-liberal-3/

Jesus is a Liberal

Jesus Christ would not be proud
To see religion in this state. (Virginia that is.)
TV evangelists preach a canon of intolerance.
Jesus never expected people to hate in his name.

Building amusement parks in homage to God
Makes as much sense as waging war for Christ.
A god who attracts such diverse attentions
Is not a nice god or even a holy god.

He must be the god ofMONEY, or,
The god of land acquisition, or, perhaps
Even the god of death. Now that should
Set bells ringing inYOUR bible-belt ears.

The god of death destroys life and love,
The god of death is worshipped in Lynchburg.

This Poem first appeared in “the Muse,” Edited by Ilya Kaminsky, 1997, Rochester, NY