Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Two Poems for the People of Syria
how much water can run from rivers to sea
how much blood can soak the earth
the guns of tyrants know no end
a people awakened are bigger than bullets
there is no sleep in their eyes
no more stunted backs and fear of broken limbs
even men, women and children are humble with sacrifice
the old the young play their roles
with smiles they endure torture chambers
with laughs they submit to rape and mutilations
there is no victory for oppressors
whose days are numbered
as the clock ticks as the sun rises
let the people continue til victory
surely they smell it on their hands
taste it on lips
believe it in their hearts
know it in their minds
no more backwardness no fear
let there be resistance til victory.
--Marvin X/El Muhajir
Syrian poet/professor Dr. Mohja Kahf
Oh Marvin, how much blood can soak the earth?
The angels asked, “will you create a species who will shed blood
and overrun the earth with evil?”
And it turns out “rivers of blood” is no metaphor:
see the stones of narrow alleys in Duma
shiny with blood hissing from humans? Dark
and dazzling, it keeps pouring and pumping
from the inexhaustible soft flesh of Syrians,
and neither regime cluster bombs from the air,
nor rebel car bombs on the ground,
ask them their names before they die.
They are mowed down like wheat harvested by machine,
and every stalk has seven ears, and every ear a hundred grains.
They bleed like irrigation canals into the earth.
Even one little girl in Idlib with a carotid artery cut
becomes a river of blood. Who knew she could be a river
running all the way over the ocean, to you,
draining me of my heart? And God said to the angels,
“I know what you know not.” But right now,
the angels seem right. Cut the coyness, God;
learn the names of all the Syrians.
See what your species has done.
--Mohja Kahf
Chicago Musician Terry Callier Joins Ancestors
Terry Callier dies
We are sad to report of the death of Terry Callier, a singer and songwriter who was a legend in the Chicago area and built a following around the world. He was 67 years old.
Callier was born in the North Side of Chicago, Illinois, and was raised in the Cabrini–Green housing area. He learned piano, was a childhood friend of Curtis Mayfield, Major Lance and Jerry Butler, and began singing in doo-wop groups in his teens. In 1962 he took an audition at Chess Records, where he recorded his debut single, "Look at Me Now". At the same time as attending college, he then began performing in folk clubs and coffee houses in Chicago, becoming strongly influenced by the music of John Coltrane He met Samuel Charters of Prestige Records in 1964, and the following year they recorded his debut album. Charters then took the tapes away with him into the Mexican desert, and the album was eventually released in 1968 asThe New Folk Sound of Terry Callier. Two of Callier's songs, "Spin, Spin, Spin" and "It's About Time", were recorded by the psychedelic rock bandH. P. Lovecraft in 1968, as part of their H. P. Lovecraft II album. H. P. Lovecraft featured fellow Chicago folk club stalwart George Edwards, who would go on to co-produce several tracks for Callier in 1969.
He continued to perform in Chicago, and in 1970 joined the Chicago Songwriters Workshop set up by Jerry Butler. He wrote material for Chess and its subsidiary Cadet label, including The Dells' 1972 hit "The Love We Had Stays on My Mind", as a result of which he won his own recording contract with Cadet as a singer-songwriter. Three critically acclaimed but commercially unsuccessful albums followed, produced by Charles Stepney in a style which critics termed "jazz-folk" - Occasional Rain (1972), What Color Is Love (1973), and I Just Can't Help Myself (1974). He also toured with George Benson,Gil Scott-Heron and others. However, Callier was then dropped by Cadet, and the Songwriters Workshop closed in 1976. The following year, he signed a new contract with Elektra Records, releasing the albums Fire On Ice (1977) and Turn You to Love (1978). The opening track of the latter album, "Sign Of The Times", was used as the theme tune of radio DJ Frankie Crocker and became Callier's only US chart success, reaching # 78 on the R&B chart in 1979 and prompting his appearance at the Montreux Jazz Festival
Callier continued to perform and tour until 1983, when he retired from music to take classes in computer programming, landing a job at the University of Chicago and returning to college during the evenings to pursue a degree in sociology. He re-emerged from obscurity in the late 1980s, when British DJs discovered his old recordings and began to play his songs in clubs. Acid Jazz Records head Eddie Piller reissued a little-known Callier recording from 1983, "I Don't Want to See Myself (Without You)", and brought him to play clubs in Britain. From 1991 he began to make regular trips to play gigs during his vacation time from work.
In 1994 Urban Species released their debut album Listen, the title track containing a sample of the bass line and guitar riff from Callier's 1973 recording "You Goin' Miss Your Candyman". In the late 1990s Callier began his comeback to recorded music, collaborating with Urban Species on their 1997 EP Religion and Politics and contributed to Beth Orton's Best Bit EP in 1997 before releasing the album Timepeace in 1998, which won the United Nations' Time For Peace award for outstanding artistic achievement contributing to world peace. His colleagues at the University of Chicago did not know of Callier's life as a musician, but after the award the news of his work as a musician became widely known and subsequently led to his dismissal by the University.
As well as touring internationally, Callier continued his recording career, releasing five albums after Timepeace, including Lifetime (1999), Alive (2001), Speak Your Peace (2002) and Lookin' Out(2004). May 2009 saw his album Hidden Conversations featuring Massive Attack released on Mr Bongo records. In 2001, Callier performed "Satin Doll" for the Red Hot Organization's compilation album Red Hot + Indigo, a tribute to Duke Ellington, which raised money for various charities devoted to increasing AIDS awareness and fighting the disease.
He died on October 28, 2012, after a long illness
This article is licensed under the GNU Free Documentation License. It uses material from the Wikipedia article Terry Callier
Monday, October 29, 2012
Please Support Oakland's Swimming Tiger, Piankhi
- Greetings Family! This is HuNia with an urgent request to support my son Piankhi... I greet you in the spirit of Umoja (Unity) and Ujima (Collective Work and Responsibility) and request that you join our ONLINE financial campaign to support our son Piankhi Gibson as he endeavors to pursue his education at Auburn University in Alabama.Currently, he is on a partial swimming scholarship and while that remains intact, his federal aid was reduced. Please help by joining our "5 by 5 Campaign"—a minimum of 500 friends and family donate a minimum of $5, we can reach our goal!Those of you, who have been following Piankhi's swimming career, know that he has been in the pool representin' since the age of 9, starting with the Westside Team in W. Oakland, Black Starline All-Star Swim Team, Undercurrents, etc. setting and breaking many records along the way and now Auburn University, majoring in Business Marketing.He also intends to attend culinary school upon completion of his B.A. Wonder where he got that idea... :)Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the love and support you have shown!!!Donations can be made at the following Paypal link:
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Marvin X Reads Poetry at the Brecht Forum with Ras Moshe
Parable of Woman on the Cell Phone by Marvin X
Yeah, these nigguhs is here at my funeral. Yeah, that bitch is here. Now you know I don't like that bitch. I should get out this casket and beat her motherfuckin ass. How dare she come to my funeral after I caught her and my man fucking. They can fuck forever now cause I'm outta here.Yeah, I'm gone baby girl. But did you hear that other bitch sing that song I don't like? Yeah, how dat hoe gon sing a song I don't even like at my funeral. I should get out this casket and whip her ass too.
These nigguhs is too much for me. I'm so glad I'm outta here. And my man sittin there cryin crocodile tears. You know he gon be at one of his other bitches house tonight. She gon be feelin all sorry for him. I should send my spirit over her house and bust up they shit. Know what I mean. I should just command my spirit over her place and fuck it up.
Now bout this heaven shit, Girl. We go see when I get there. Better be some fine nigguhs up in heaven or I'm goin down to hell. I am not gonna be where no mud duck lookin nigguhs is. And I gotta be there for eternity. Hell to the naw. Cause I know I'm cute. Did you see what I had on at my wake last night. Yeah, was I cute, girlfriend? I told dem funeral people don't be makin me look like no damn ghost wit all dat gray ass makeup. Have me lookin cute leavin here.
Well, girl they bout to close the casket. I'm so sorry you couldn't make it but everybody got up and said they little piece. They didn't stop nobody from saying what they thought about me, but you know it was all lies. Nigguhs oughta stop lyin like that. Half them nigguhs hated my guts.You shoulda seen that hoe came dressed like mother Hubbard, crying all over my casket, bout to knock me ova. I started to raise up and slap dat bitch, but I kept my cool. I just kept lookin up at the ceiling.
Girl you take care. I hope they got some damn cigaretts in heaven, and they better have some Hennessey, I swear, or I'm going straight to hell.Let me get off dis phone. Later, girl.
from The Wisdom of Plato Negro, parables/fables, Marvin X, Black Bird Press, Berkeley, 2012, $19.95.
Reflections of a "Human Earthquake" Victim
Meet Marvin X
I’m sure we all have those teachers from our past who have impacted our lives. Some have encouraged us to dig deep within and unleash untapped potential. Some have inspired us to think beyond our little world and reach new heights. I can’t remember, though, very many teachers who have shocked me into a dizzying stupor, made me laugh, then ultimately made me love them for their unbridled “Hootspa” (or as we were fond of saying in my hometown….“Huevos”)
Meet Marvin X
I believe it was the fall semester of 1982 when I walked into the first day of my English class. I was attending Kings River Community College in the small, heavily Mennonite town of Reedley, CA. Our quaint little town was your typical white-bread, very conservative, farming community. So when we all took our seats and noticed that our instructor was not your typical white, middle-aged teacher with patches on his jacket sleeves, but was in fact an african american man, staring us down, we were all a bit off of our game.
“Hello, welcome to my English class. My name is Marvin X. My legal name is Marvin Jackmon, but I don’t use that name because that was given to me by some white slave owner”! The classroom did a collective head scratching, while some more disturbed students got up and walked into the wall several times, then returned to their seats and joined the head scratching asking panically “Um…your just a sub, right??”
Everyday in Marvin X’s class was like a field trip though a box of Cracker Jacks. There was always some prize waiting for our small town J.C. minds to grapple with. Mr. X always encouraged lively conversation and I took full advantage of that, because we all know that asking a thousand questions equals a passionate interest in the subject which equals a passing grade!!!!
The thing I love most about him was that he loved…no, he fed on tossing little “shock and awe” bombshells our way. Which was always followed by that jubilant grin and sparkle in his eye’s. He kept taunting us that some day he would share some of his poetry with us. But he warned us, “My poetry is really “street” …so I’m not sure your ready for it”.
Several more weeks passed, full of lively conversations, debate and complete pandemonium swirling through our young impressionable little minds. Finally, one day he came to class and announced that we were now officially ready for one of his poems. Once again, he reiterated that his poetry was pretty “street” and not for the faint of heart. We did a collective gulp and nodded our heads.
This poem is called…
(wait for it)
“Confession of a Rapist”
(Oh dear Lord!!….um…uh…OK,, I can handle this! I can be street…or at least avenue)
He looked up with that sly grin and glimmer in his eyes, then proceeded with the opening line…
“I took the P***Y”
(we’re not talking about sweet little kittens here, folks.)
He just piloted his Enola Gay B-29 and dropped a bomb (a “P” bomb at that) amongst us citizens of Hiroshima Junior College!
Visualize those old black & white films of Atomic bomb testing somewhere in the deserts of Nevada. The “Shock Wave” was so insanely intense, our faces were wobbling and contorting to the massive G-forces, that I’m pretty positive not one person heard another line from that poem. Outside, after class, we quickly and hastily put together an emergency Triage unit to asses the damages and re-attach any limbs or brain matter that may have needed attending to.
Some fellow Christian students from the class were discussing the possibility of assembling a mob with torches and pitch forks, the likes of your typical Frankenstein movie. We soon realized that we were all fine. A little shaken, but fine.
Oddly enough, there was maybe one complaint in class from a student, and he very patiently and lovingly discussed it with us. In the end, we all came through it like old trench buddies. Mr. X helped lift, perhaps rather firmly, us out of our little comfort zones.
In the last few remaining weeks of class, we had several more great conversations and debates. One sunny day he even held class outside under a tree and we studied the book of Job from the Bible. I believe he said he loved it because it read like a screenplay. He had lots of great insight and challenged us daily.
There are only a handful of teachers from my two and a half years of college (and no degree to show for it) that I have maybe a millisecond of memory of them. Mr. X, however, made such an impact on me that his memory is burned into the synapses of my brain. Was he shocking? Yes! However, even more, he loved reaching through to us. He made us think….really think!
Before I began writing this, I Googled him. Sure enough, there he was…
with that sly grin and glimmer in his eyes!
Thank you, Mr. X!
Comment from Marvin X:
Let me thank all those beautiful students who attended my English class at Kings River College, 1982. I had the time of my life, but my academic career ended there, even though I received a 97% retention rate. I simply no longer desired to teach again. It is indeed ironic that my career ended not far from where my life began in Fowler, Ca., a few miles down the road from Reedley. My mother was also born in Fowler but never went to Reedley because the town was too racist. But during my brief tenure at Reedley, the students treated me royally, bringing me gifts of fruits, vegetables and herbs from their farms. Two of my greatest poems were written during this time, i.e., For the Women and Black History is World History. My students, nearly all White and/or Chicano, did research papers on Black History is World History. One of my Black students was from an Alabama town that hanged his friend from a light post during the semester. Yes, the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Comment from Marvin X:
Let me thank all those beautiful students who attended my English class at Kings River College, 1982. I had the time of my life, but my academic career ended there, even though I received a 97% retention rate. I simply no longer desired to teach again. It is indeed ironic that my career ended not far from where my life began in Fowler, Ca., a few miles down the road from Reedley. My mother was also born in Fowler but never went to Reedley because the town was too racist. But during my brief tenure at Reedley, the students treated me royally, bringing me gifts of fruits, vegetables and herbs from their farms. Two of my greatest poems were written during this time, i.e., For the Women and Black History is World History. My students, nearly all White and/or Chicano, did research papers on Black History is World History. One of my Black students was from an Alabama town that hanged his friend from a light post during the semester. Yes, the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Dr. Nigger will read with Marvin X in Philly
Dr. Neal Hall, aka Dr. Nigger, will read with Marvin X on Friday, Nov. 16, 3pm at Black and Nobel Books, 1411 West Erie Ave, Philadelphia PA.
Mr. Marvin X:
Great read and great job Mr. Marvin "Human Earthquake" X. I would love to read with you and to read Dr. Nigger during your stay in Philadelphia. I understand that you may be speaking at Temple University. I would be honored to read with you....
...That reading of my poems 911, 24-7 put me on the poetic map in Philadelphia. I read it in Bali, Indonesia at the 9th Ubud Writer & Readers International Festival and it brought the international house down.
I look forward to hearing from you. In any event, it will be my pleasure and honor to come and hear you speak at Temple University.
Neal Hall, M.D.
Dr. Nigger
Dr. Nigger
Can you cure me without
touching me with nigga hands
touching me with nigga hands
Can you save my life
without changing my life
without changing my life
Can you dance soft-shoe while
humming those negro tunes
when my white life codes blue
humming those negro tunes
when my white life codes blue
Can you reach inside yourself
beyond the shit we put in you…
past painful moments we put in you…
past despair and hopelessness
we’ve put in you and
find that old black magic in you
to save my life without changing
all the shit we put in you
beyond the shit we put in you…
past painful moments we put in you…
past despair and hopelessness
we’ve put in you and
find that old black magic in you
to save my life without changing
all the shit we put in you
Dr. Nigger
Can you breathe in me
air free of nigga
from a nigger not free
to breathe in free air
air free of nigga
from a nigger not free
to breathe in free air
Can you stay on the colored side
of the color line and reach across
without touching me with nigga hands
to restart my blue heart without
changing my cold heart
of the color line and reach across
without touching me with nigga hands
to restart my blue heart without
changing my cold heart
Can you reach past the life
we’ve taken from you to
save my life and not
let white life pass me by
we’ve taken from you to
save my life and not
let white life pass me by
Dr. Nigger
save my life
without taking my life
without taking my life
Cure me without
touching me with nigga hands
touching me with nigga hands
Dance soft-shoe while
humming negro tunes
while you save my life
without changing my life
when my white life codes blue
humming negro tunes
while you save my life
without changing my life
when my white life codes blue
Neal Hall, M.D., Copyright 2009
Dr. Neal Hall
*Neal Hall, M.D., graduate of Cornell and Harvard, ophthalmologist and poet, has published a critically acclaimed anthology of verse, Nigger for Life, reflecting his painful, later life discovery, that in “unspoken America,” race is the one thing on which he is first judged; by which he is first measured; first, against which his life and accomplishments are metered diminished value, dignity, equality and justice.
All of which have everything to do with accessing choice, opportunity, power and freedom in America.
Cornel West, Ph.D., (Princeton University) said of Nigger for Life, “Dr. Hall is a warrior of the spirit, a warrior of the mind, an activist, a poet … his poetry has the capacity to change ordinary people’s philosophy on social and racial issues.”
Nigger for Life’s candid, gut wrenching clarity gives it it’s tremendous power and impact to provoke both thought and honest dialog regarding race, racism, equality and freedom, not just in America, but throughout the world.
The book’s unique ability to open minds, touch hearts and change philosophies of people is immeasurable.
For more info, visit: www.surgeon-poet.com/
Read more at http://www.eurweb.com/2010/12/dr-neal-halls-thought-provoking-new-book-nigger-for-life-available-now/#AQgLoFpOewkhu7XV.99
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