the subversive power of word

To understand the power of word I think we must examine why for so long and in so many places people have been denied the right of speech.   The oppression under Mugabe in Zimbabwe is a glaring account of this but throughout Zimbabwe’s post-colonial history there have been outspoken artists who have shown a light on the issues at hand.  In the tradition of Zimbabwean artists like Thomas Mapfumo two of Harare’s brightest lights and most subversive poets Comrade Fatso and Outspoken are beginning a tour of North America to spread word of the plight of Zimbabwe. They will be touring with a full band and will be rocking hip-hop shows, spoken word events, even leading debates and giving workshops.

Comrade Fatso gained recognition around the world for his protest poetry and the foundation of the House of Hunger Slam  in Harare.  Here is a clip of Comrade Fatso from that spoken word series.

Tour Dates
Boston, MA:    April 2; 5-13; 24-26
Hartford. CT:    April 3, 4
New York, NY:   April 14, 15
Princeton, NJ:   April 16
Washington DC:   April 17-23

News – April 2009

It has been a long while since I posted here.  Here’s some quick news to fill the void on this site.  The arrival of Seoul Slam has come.  Seoul’s first English Poetry Slam is being launched at Sensation Lounge on April 25.  Presented by Word Food the event will be hosted by myself and Jeremy Toombs and it should be a blast.  DJ Madrid will close the night by rocking the Word Full into a dancing frenzy till the wee hours.   I’m stoked to be involved with some expat Slam action.  Click here for the facebook event page.

Secondly, I am featured in the latest edition of the South African hip-hop and culture magazine FreeRiddim. Check it! I have been reading this magazine online for a while now and they always feature quality poets and artists with something to say.

peace.

The realest.

Every so often Youtube serves up some real slept on talent.  The homeless beatbox king “Red” turned up behind the Heavyweight Art Gallery in December and has been an internet phenom ever since.

According to his latest video on Youtube he is getting his shit together and has a single coming out in February.  Put me down for an album.

Listen to this one with your headphones on and the volume up.

Aid Gaza Benefit

This Saturday at Club 500 come check out this great event for an even better cause.  I will be opening and closing the night with poems including a new one called “Griots Arise”.  For more information check out the website for the event.

January 20th, 2009

Today, we stand naked before each other and throw our shoes at history.
Today, his words more true than ever we stop awaiting ourselves and start acting.
Today, the empire takes the flag off the mirror and stares.
Today, we see that eight years of brutality and lies were eight years of brutality and lies.
Today, more Palestinians will die.
Today, people will be force fed at Guantanamo Bay, the war will rage on in Iraq, the Taliban will regroup, and
Today, Obama you are accountable.
In your words, in our name, across the world we have smiled with you and given you your light.
Today, you find the limits of your power and depth of your ego.
and today the piggybacks stop and there is no honeymoon.
Today, you will begin to disappoint.  But still
Today, we smile because America is a self-fulfilling prophecy
and even though the deepest river cannot bleed the cities of their tears
Today, the weather changes, underground or not and blows coal ash into your deep lungs. and
Today, San Francisco’s gay population will dance, naked and unmarried upon your nimble tongue.  And
Today, Afghanistan will awake with a new landlord and 20 000 more troops securing a pipeline.  and
Today, Obama, either you stick your flag lapel pin to your heart or to your tongue because
Today, you have the choice whether or not to bring justice to your land and call war crimes – war crimes.
Today, a black man is president and 1 million more sit in prison cells angrily awaiting Change.
Today, promises begin to be broken.
but today we smile, naked
and thankful because
Yes we can change the world
The wait is over
Today, we come alive.

Inwangsan

Inwangsan

He carries his typewriter to the tops of mountains.
Counting bugs and raindrops in search of inspiration.
The ancient eludes him as he imagines the smog to be ocean mist replenishing the city.
He sees a robed man praying with his back turned to ant farm Seoul and tries not to take a photograph.
He sneaks his camera out and snaps proof that he had seen zen and was close enough to touch it.
He wishes he wasn’t just running past
Alienated from his own dreams by the manic pace of his mind.

He hurriedly stuffs paper into the cartridge and writes
“I am Western Lion.  I’ve come to feed on your women.
I am totem of tree rooted in stinky streets and spicy noodles.
Feed me world for I am hungry.
Feed me the freedom my people promised you.
Feed me the ancient ways you left behind.”

He is tired of the conformity of steel and concrete
but the alleys and empty lots are more like home.
He wishes he could spend out his days here above this city
that will never be his own.
Typing words about things he cannot capture in a language
not meant to describe them.

photo by Lisa Roscoe

The Festival of the Trees

Living in the endless city I miss trees more than anything else.

Silhouettes

Eyes search for the sky, lined with arches, creaking
the curved spines of cedars, reaching
with forgotten stories of ages undone.

We listen, from within the shadows of wisdom.

i dream of the
quintessential BC silhouette.
cedar balancing on cliffside
over relentless Pacific
growing towards the moons brother.
smoldering memories of countless unmarked others.

We only visit on weekends. tenting ourselves
from the raindrops and hiking
in lugubrious moss with mud
between toes softened by shoes and the city.

Like our grandparents in sterile homes
their stories going unspoken, lineages of knowledge broken
the trees circle inwardly, counting the years
since someone listened with the respect they’ve earned.
our elders lay in pale blue rooms counting the days until someone returns

To visit, for the weekend.

Sign a petition to stop the Logging of BC’s old growth forests – BAN RAW LOG EXPORTS!

photo credit: The singular tree photo was taken by Lisa Roscoe.

Tornado Yourself

Sometimes the yellow line
divides more then the road
and you realize that you are running away
and that the weight isn’t buildings upon you, its
claustrophobia within your skin.
still you crawl towards the womb of the wild.
and spin, reckless, tornado yourself, imitating the animal
unable to see the desperate calculations which are nature
destroying everything in your path
relentlessly free you think
but this type of nihilistic freedom looks better on a page
then it does in person.

And she says that the next time she meets a dreamer
she will spit in their face.
and he thinks his letters are better left unsent.

But not all dreamers are assholes.
and not all of us who seek, destroy
but seeing beauty in everything is
too often an excuse to fulfill
the unconscious ambitions of the weak willed.
and trust me I know I have always been a runner.
Boxing with the shadows of my history
throwing stones at the dreams of constant summer.
because I learned at a young age that stillness was boring
and wondered why I would want to be grounded
when I can be amongst the stars, but
too many times have I mistaken
the whirling head of confusion
for the mindful life of elation. and
The truth is if I find my path to god
I will probably not stumble there as did my heroes.
I am no drunken prophet or murderous angel.

and too many young men idolize Neal Cassady, Guevera and Tupac Shakur
genius assholes, whose lives and icon blur.
who open minds but fill them with images of grandeur
each of whom died young and hurt many on their short fast stay here.

So do it, get free!
shake your ass, swim in cold ocean
climb that tree. uncork the bottle
scream down alleyways. seek and see.
write poetry on rooftops.
drive naked across plains.
dance in moonlight.
hitchhike, hop trains.
be an empty vessel
ready to be filled.
be filled and brimming
ready to explode.
do as you do, be as you be
and believe nothing against your conscience
especially not me
but please, listen to this letter
I wrote – to me. because
explosions are violent
and truth is not thoughtless
so expand your mind with love
even if you know no caution.
For even a free wind has no song
if it has already blown over all if its surroundings
and there are no leaves left to rustle.

the circus is always out of reach

the circus is out of reach

Going To Korea

So it is official I’m going to Korea!  It looks like I will be crossing the Pacific for the first time next Thursday.  I have ceded my spot on the Victoria Slam Team and am taking off to teach children the English Language that I love, eat spicy foods, and explore a continent I as of yet have only dreamed of.  Lisa and I are moving to Bucheon which is a new city situated about 35 minutes out of the thick of things on Seoul’s Subway Line 1.  As for life in Korea I really don’t know what to expect but as for my blog you can expect a shift of focus to travels, teaching, politics on the Korean Peninsula, and I will be posting more of my own poetry.

Porno para Ricardo

According to the CBC “one of Cuba’s leading punk rockers will go to trial Friday on charges of social dangerousness”.  The lead singer of Porno Para Ricardo is facing imprisonment for his lyrics which oppose the dictatorial regime of Fidel and Raoul Castro.

I always hear lefties idealizing Castro and the Cuban brand of socialism and while many Cuban social programs put even Canada’s to shame we cannot lose sight of how fortunate we are to have the ability to stand up for what we believe in, say what we want, and oppose our government when we disagree.  When we fail to understand our privilege we lose sight of how lucky we really are and begin to let things slip through our fingers.  Take our health care system for example.  The majority of Canadians see universal public health care as not only a right but as a defining element of the Canadian identity and yet very few people take up the cause of its defense… we take it for granted.

I’ll leave you with a little Porno para Ricardo.  The song is Mi Balsa or My Raft.

Palin a poor choice for aging Mccain

McCain is the oldest non-incumbent Presidential Nominee in US history – this in combination with his multiple battles with cancer leave his mortality as an issue in this campaign.  To squander his VP pick with a poor strategic grab at Hilary democrats by choosing a little known governor with only 2 years of experience promotes McCain’s age and health from a footnote in the campaign to main a talking point.  Meanwhile the choice of a candidate with less experience then Obama nulls Mccain’s one advantage.

The main role of a VP is to act as President if anything renders the Commander in Chief unable to fufill their duties.  Now the focus of the debate surrounding who is experienced enough to lead is shifted from Obama to Palin.  Poor choice.  American women are smarter then that Mccain…they will not flock to you merely because you chose a woman to be VP.  They liked Hilary because she is fit to lead and has an overwhelmingly impressive resume.  Although Palin’s ability to balance raising five children and be governor of Alaska is very impressive it does not qualify her to lead the most powerful empire in world history.

And ….his choice comes on the heals of Obama’s history making speech at the DNC yesterday which has served to unite the Democrats and electrify the masses.

Good for the world.  Bad for the Republicans.

Om Mani Padme Hum

Hey Father Death, I’m flying home
past streets that should bare your name
and sad shadows Tattooed with a bolar cap and your 6 foot frame.
Hey Father Death I’m taking flight
I was drinking whiskey while you slipped into the night

I wear your clothes when they get tattered, hand me down words
34-32 wrapped in plastic
You loved walking but now that is not why we pace.
And if coming to terms sounds like an agreement, its illuminated
you were not bound to this place.
I can see it in your books
Snider, Bukowski, the zen reader
You the child friendly, draft dodging – aging hipster.

You gave me Howl as a Christmas present twice.

And left father death blues open in your study
For sons to find and sing

Genius Death your art is done
Lover Death your body’s gone
Father Death I’m coming home

But no one sings today, although we should, instead
talk turns to running
As it often does when facing each other becomes hard.
The father is also a son,
Life in circles, but
Gifts born to this community
Cannot be undone.
So we have come, to

Celebrate
Style, grace, genius
Celebrate
Father, friend, mentor
To Celebrate
Flying home

and

Teacher Death I do thank you
For inspiring me to sing this Blues

Rest In Peace Jesse. Thank you for everything.
This poem is inspired by the mindful kindness of Jesse Hyder and the words of Allen Ginsberg’s poem Father Death Blues…read that poem in its entirety here.

Victoria Slam Team and a new Webpage

My big news is that I won a spot on the Victoria Slam Poetry team which will be heading to Calgary for the National Championships in November. I’m excited to have the opportunity to be on the national stage and to compete against poets that I have read and respected for a long time.  I am also honored to be on a such a talented team. Going to Calgary representing Victoria will be: Missie Peters, Kristy Westendorp, Steven J Thompson, Myself and Jane Bee.

Also as you can tell…I am busy trying to design this new internet home for myself. I have imported my old blog and am now attempting to build pages to house my poetry, pictures of my art and a space to find out information about upcoming spoken word performances.

Hopefully in the coming weeks I will be posting video clips of my spoken word and I will have information about my upcoming chapbook which is due out in July 2008.

Thanks for stopping by and everything should be running smoothly soon.

POBEL @ CANS Festival

Holy…Do I ever wish I was in London for the Cans Festival! Check out Romanywg’s photostream to check out everything you are missing including new Banksy.