Up dates January 2008

Up dates January 2008

Justin the multimedia manager and I have been very busy organizing the website and bringing a variety of tracks of songs and performances from the past years up on the Sample page. Also, on the main page is Last Round At the Earth Bar a beautiful piece with Cindy Hellman on vocals, Paul Jensen on guitar, and me Namaya on the narrative.

Blue Heron Pond: Love Song for the Planet is in the very final editing stages. We will probably produce this in a limited run on Cafe Press or another electronic print on demand. Samples will be on the website during the week. Two years in the work!

7 March 2008 a Performance of Benny O'Shea at the Cotton Mill in Brattleboro Vermont. Benny O'Shea is the Jazz Detective story about a cat by the name of Benny O'Shea who meets the Angel of Death. Rain Wilson and Kali Quinn will be dancing in this performance.

Beatnik Cafe will be produced by NPI productions and Pioneer Arts Center of Easthampton for a 29 March 2008 P.A.C.E. (The Pioneer Arts Center of Easthampton) 41 Union Street Easthampton, MA 01027 PHONE (413) 527-3700. This will feature Samirah Evans, Scott Mullett, George Kaye, Cindy Hellmann, Carol Smith, Namaya, Erica Nebbia, & Eric Morgan. It is a fun celebration of the Beat Generation.

Tour of Ireland GOD SEX POLITICS TOUR 2008. Namaya will be playing Ireland 2nd week of September with a small world beat combo. If all goes well we will extend that to England on the 3rd week of September 2008.

Sweet Pond Eco Community - My other huge creative endeavor in 2007 has been the Sweet Pond Eco Community at www.sweetpondecocommunity.com

Hopes, wishes, and anticipations: 2007 had been filled with writing and producing the musical Beatnik Cafe which was received with a generous standing ovation at our first performance we are hoping to feature it in NYC in November 2008 for a limited run at a small theater.

Australia January GOD SEX POLITICS 2009 - If the wind blows right Sydney, Melbourne and stops along the way. And, of course, a few days of the Australian Open. We would like to really stretch that dream and take a tramp steamer from Perth to Yemen and do a GOD SEX POLITICS show in Aden.

If you're going to live life, live it hugely, dream immensely, dare the most imaginative of things to do, be outrageous, kiss a beautiful stranger, act as if the next breath was your very last one but you had the eternity of time to savor it.

Stop whining, make a revolution now!

Namaya Jan 2008

Brattleboro Safe 9ll Homeland Security Person & Arts Cultural Coordinator

Brattleboro Safe 9ll Homeland Security Person and Arts Cultural Coordinator

There has been a recent initiative to have an Arts Coordinator in Brattleboro to serve as the point person for a wide variety of Arts and Cultural activities. Though it’s a grand idea, it’s not in keeping with the times nor political tide. Arts in the US and Brattleboro is not perceived as integral to the lifeblood of the economy. The Arts Coordinator would have to borrow and beg for funding. A more pragmatic approach is to fuse the roles that more accurately reflects our nation’s war time position: The Brattleboro Safe 911Homeland Security and Arts Coordinator (BS 9ll to be succinct) rolled into one. Art and National Security, a perfect combination!
Facts are facts: Terror, war and homeland security is big business; Art is small potatoes. Wouldn't Washington stand up and take notice that Brattleboro, with its reputation for harboring some of the most extreme elements of the left who have scoffed at the Patriot Act, impugned the War on Terror, and have had the temerity to question President Bush’s genius in Iraq, has finally raised the flag of patriotism high by having a Brattleboro 911 Homeland Security Person? The genius of the Bush administration has been to teach us – what appears ain’t exactly there. For example: we are a peace loving nation and as a peace loving nation we need to go to war; therefore, peace is war and war is peace. Art is bad, because liberals like art. Homeland Security is good because wealthy Republicans make money off it and making money is an American tradition. Arts Coordinator by itself is bad, because art supports liberals, a very bad idea, but BS 9ll ensures that there won't be terrorists living underneath your child’s bed ready to make him into a recruit for Al Qaeda.
The BS9ll could be fully funded in a nanosecond and have more than enough superfluous money to throw at art. Think of the amount of money Halliburton, Blackwater, Bechtel, and the other privateers in the 9ll business make. Our proposed local budget for this post of $10 million dollars is not even a decent bit of flatulence for those folks. Pure chump change.
It would be a grand plan! BS911 operatives would infiltrate every art cabal in the community in the guise of generous benefactors and all the creative liberals well occupied. The musicians would be too busy performing and making money to even question the President. Instead of writers churning out their poisonous venom, BS9ll would give them money to write plays about patriotism and America as a Christian nation, and fund children’s arts program to keep them away from the liberal propaganda of their parents. We would have every damn pen and brush wielding pinko so engaged with theater, art, dance, poetry they wouldn't have the time to march, make noise, or denigrate our President. Art finally in the service of our nation!
Also, with the full weight of national security behind it the BS911 could also do something about the naked people running during Gallery Walk. No need for an undercover operation, a SWAT team will come down and swat their naked fannies right off main street. Not enough people at Gallery Walk in the middle of a blizzard? No problem, BS 9ll declares, “Red Alert all citizens of Brattleboro and surrounding areas are mandated to go to Downtown Gallery Walk.” Easy. Herd the masses.
Unless, there is the extremely absurd notion that Arts and the Creative economy is truly important on its own merit and that our town is willing to support and finance an Arts & Culture Coordinator in our community.

Holy Shores

Ocean waves

crack

thunderously holy

on the breakers

revelation from

Saint Ignatius

patron saint of bruises

and fine wine.

Port Said on the Red Sea

where the 4 prophets waded

ashore.

Jesus ascribed as Inka

Mohammed, in drag as the

anti-Christ looking raggedy

wild-eyed as Charlie Manson

said, “Dinka!” Rolled

a joint and passed it on.

“Allah Akhbar indeed.” said

the J man while blowing smoke

rings through a cliché.

Lord Krishna claimed Dinka

cavorted lustily with his

maidens in the 998 1/2 positions of

the Kama Sutra. The ½ pike

for the one legged boy, fish piked and

polled, Plato swam with the

naked boys and proclaimed Agape

above Logos.

Soap on a rope invented by Athenians.

Buddha worked as a short order

chef in a Reno brothel

was only to glad to accommodate

transcendence,

“One with everything?”

(Please, please, this is a serious tale

and no time for your verbal buggery.)

“Stand tall!” called the captain, “Seal the

bung holes! All these assholes will

be tight as a frog’s bung – water tight.”

Have you ever seen a water logged frog

floating inconsequently away,

leaf like swaying down stream?

“Row! Row! To the farther shore.”

said the Israelite Jacob. “Inconsequentially sailing to

redemption as the sea of reeds parts—Her legs spread wide

in the August sun!” said Ishmael to Isaac. Each sailor bent down to the shrine and kissed

the delta Venus as tenderly as they would the Madonna’s cheek.

What say the thunder to revelation?

“Higgly higgly higgly pog.” said the Po ‘bo to the ho. “Weed the garden!”

“Hoe to the ‘hoe. Land ho! Called the lst Mate. While the boatswain’s

mate swung high in his love nest by the moon, passionately engaged with

the cabin boy, rocking joyfully. ”

Voluptuous moon ripe as a virgin’s clitoris,

shadows cavort on the forecastle, while they sailed down from Aqaba to Hodeidah. Moon light’s dance on the phosphorescent waters burst diamond thrilling effervescent across the water, we made love in the languid tide, mercury silver alluring with each parting of the wave.

Captain jealous, impotent as spilled gin, could only hold the boy in his

imagination

“Ibbidy bibbidy bop.” said the prophet Fred

“Fiddly, fiddly fidly pop.” said the

poo bear to the pope.

Walking backwards, looking for the thread of the argument,

the integument that binds the story, weaves shadows and light,

a butterfly turns in the widening gyre, a pearl spun from the gossamer

threads of simple desire.

Seagulls

shriek, a feast

for the sightless. Alms given at St Paul’s and the orphan

pigeons from Trafalgar Square perch like vultures on Black Friar bridge waiting for

the next victim of scandal. What bonny blue eyes shall be tasted?

Desires are the room for the holiest of desires.

Inka

Dinka

Dinka

Do.

Farewell

Spring roars to life

in a bounding leap

to summer play.

Moonlight skinny

dipping in June as

stars anoint our loving.

August languid heat

and pools of sweat

dissolve in our cold pond.

When green seems to

hold permanent sway,

one fire red leaf appears.

Geese circle the pond,

blue jays disappear, and

Blue Heron debuts again.

Leaves in their dried

rustling bones reverie

whisper farewell.

All too soon, our

dreams to cherish.

Namaya 07

Having a cold beer with John Lennon at 67

Having a cold beer with John Lennon at 67

He was born in Liverpool on October 9, 1940 as the Nazi bombs were raining down on England. It was a year of enormous fear and uncertainty, no one knew if Britain was going to fall, and there to a poor working family John Lennon was born. Nothing auspicious in the birth, just another mouth to feed; nevertheless, the arc of his life, a brief forty years touched so many millions of lives. What was that kismet, the alignment of the starts that blessed this child with wealth and fame?

The other day I was having dinner in a restaurant and there was a picture of Lennon with the Beatles from l969-- John, Paul, George and Ringo in their mid to late twenties with their long hair and sweet beautiful faces of youth. It was almost painful to see that photo of Lennon with his long brown hair, gold rimmed glasses, pale complexion, looking not so much like a prophet, but a bit lost and dazed. This was the height of his fame with the Beatles and when he was still a heroin addict; fortunately, he kicked the habit and spent the last years of his life clean. The eleven years he had left in his life were spent with his wife Yoko Ono, lovers and friends, making music, compelling people to Imagine, traveling, raising a child, evolving into a peace activist, and by the end he seemed to have found some personal peace. His last album was a lovely farewell and my favorite song was Beautiful Boy to his son Sean and perhaps to Lennon’s un-fathered self.


I would like to visit with him now, alive at sixty seven, sitting on a beach drinking a cold beer with him and asking, “So, John. How are things going for you these days?”

I raise a glass of Guinness Stout to you John Lennon on your sixty-seventh birthday, “Here’s one for you, mate!”

Postcards from Iraq and Burma: Li Pon

Postcard from Burma:

Li Pon in Burma – “Monks standing up to soldiers with their tanks, bullets, and fear. Monks, real monks, are fearless, because we embrace fear. Fear is seeing the bones of your own mortality. Fear is seeing the full insignificance of who and what you are: The dust of your bones swirling with the dust of the streets. Bullets will kill the flesh, but not the spirit. When you look into the eyes of the soldier who is going to kill you, fold your hands in prayer, bow to the Buddha that lives within him, and as he squeezes the trigger --breathe fully in knowing this is your last breath –in that moment – you’re free and fearless in blessing the soldier.”

Namaya in Vermont - “I could only imagine living my life with such spiritual integrity. I build too many of my domains on fear.”

Li Pon in Burma - “Fearless!”

Li Pon in Iraq- “Now, this is fear! The Buddha, ever present, seems like he’s taken a holiday. In every face there is fear, in the face of a child there is fear, in the American soldier there is terror and loneliness, in the Jihadist there is nihilism that is devoid of spirit, and this is a perfect place for me to sit and pray. I will sit by a bridge leading to Baghdad with three prayer flags: Love. Forgiveness. Redemption.”

Namaya in Vermont -“Autumn leaves are blowing in the new October wind: One of scarlet maple fire; a cluster of deep green leaves tinged with orange; and the last is a scrap of an old poem I burned on the fire that escaped incineration and is flying in the wind: Love. Forgiveness. Redemption.

Bring the Draft Back?

BRING THE DRAFT BACK?

I am a card carrying member of the ACLU and Green Peace, a Quaker, a Vietnam era veteran, and opposed to the war in Iraq, all of that aside: Is is it time to bring the draft back without exemptions? The rich, poor, cross dressers, college students, sons and daughters of politicians, and all those who had been exempt in the past would be up to serve. Liberals whine about how the burden of war falls unfairly on the poor and underclass, but don’t volunteer for the army or national guard. Republicans (especially the chicken hawks—those gun-ho armchair warriors who ducked the last draft) think that the Iraq war is a great idea and, while we’re there we should nuke Iran, but they’re too busy making money off the war to actually fight. War, ideally, is an equal opportunity employer and everyone should have the opportunity to put their ideals on the line. In short, it’s time to bring back the draft. Not a tiny little sniveling asthmatic draft, but a big cyclonic wind of a draft that brings all US Americans into the rank and file.
Though the Vietnam draft did NOT help the outcome of the war, it did level the playing field a little. For example, GW our gun ho president who made a brief appearance in the Texas Air National Guard declined a tour of Vietnam: Would a tour of duty in ‘Nam as a combat soldier wading through the muck of the Mekong delta carrying seventy pounds of gear have opened his eyes to the reality of war? The burden and consequence of war usually falls on the poor and disenfranchised, those with little education or ability to navigate in the new economy. It’s time to bring back the draft without deferment or waivers, fit, disabled, pacifists or not, rich or poor, everyone gets a chance. War, in the best of all possible worlds, is an equal opportunity employer.
I would prefer that those who want the war the most-- Halliburton, the Military Industrial contractors, the generals and their tribe at the Pentagon should fight, but they don’t; they hide behind computer screens and algorithms of combat. The next best thing, in a world filled with bad choices is the draft. Instead of everyone moaning what a terrible deal the National Guard is getting with their four plus rotations to Afghanistan and Iraq, we spread the pain among the children of the upper middle class and wealthy. If the draft was an equal opportunity experience, we might get GW Bush’s daughters in the Army or Dick Cheney’s kids on the front lines. Do you think there would be any change in attitude on the part of the administration or congress if their kids were stuck in the middle of a civil war being shot at by both sides? Would the health care improve at the VA hospitals if their kids came back as shell shocked quadriplegics?
The draft, though an imperfect tool in an imperfect world, would be an ideal way to draw children from all levels of society into the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. When the body bags and troop ships with the crippled soldiers come home to Scarsdale, Georgetown, or Grosse Point, there may be a pause, and parents may consider that the sacrifice of their children is not really such a smart way to resolve conflicts.
The burden and consequence of war needs to falls equally on all members of society, rich and powerful, poor and disenfranchised, and one way to ensure that is a draft. Perhaps, to seriously consider the even more absurd notion that war is not a viable way for nations to resolve conflicts and ideological differences, and that diplomacy and negotiation may be a more viable way to resolve disputes