
Poetry class is FULL. Bay Area, CA.
01 Thursday Jan 2009
Posted in Announcements, Poetry
01 Thursday Jan 2009
Posted in Announcements, Poetry

24 Wednesday Dec 2008
Posted in Uncategorized
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feeding orphans and widows in Damascus
When life becomes strange, tender, and full of pain, when my daily fare and that of this tilted civilization mirror one another, when fortune steps out in her fickle dance, shifting partners, poetry soothes me. Mahmoud Darwish, the late great Palestinian poet wrote these verses honoring my favorite city– The Damascene Collar of the Dove:
B
In Damascus:
I see all of my language
written with a woman’s needle
on a grain of wheat,
refined by the partridge of the Mesopotamian rivers
C
In Damascus:
the names of the Arabian horses have been embroidered,
since Jahili times
and through judgement day,
or after,
…with gold threads…
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Jahili times. That would be now. In the introduction to Married to Muhammad I’ve written:
There is a term for the time before Islam, which is often misunderstood. Jahiliyya is known as the “Era of Ignorance,” although brutality, arrogance, and retaliation are more faithful to the Arabic. Prophet Muhammad’s approach was one of mild manner, calm deliberation, and gentleness, known as halim, an attribute of Allah as well as an antidote to this kind of attitude and behavior:
instructions for Jahiliyya
[…the jahil, a wild, violent and impetuous character who follows the inspiration of unbridled passion and is cruel by following his animal instincts; in one word, a barbarian.
words by Ignaz Goldziher.]
Know you are right.
Think fist and knife-edge.
Do not appear
foolish, no matter what.
Control your woman
and your guests; keep them
a little afraid, and thankful
for your protection.
Guard your clan’s
honor. Carve a notch
on your weapon of choice
for each successful pay-back.
If someone calls you animal,
smile and answer — lion,
hyena, crocodile, fighting cock—
the meek are the pack animals of the ferocious.
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Peace-on-Earth, a working verb, earns meager wages in this Jahili time. May all be well, easeful, prosperous, and with loved ones in this time of the increase of light!

18 Thursday Dec 2008
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Sayulita is a dirt and cobble-stone Mexican village with numerous paharos de la nieve – “snow-birds,”(winter visitors from the States and Canada,) which means it is picturesque, framed by a quiet bay, small green mountains, a spill of jungle and the iguana tree with a sign that reads sanctuario de las iguanas verdes. We stop under the strong branches above the rutted road and peer up. “You stand and stare,” the shop-girl told us, and pointed in the direction of a tangle of trees in the next block.
Under the tree is a tall iron gate. Enormous butterflies hover. The iguanas blend in. We tilt our heads and gape, looking for a creature or two in the leaves above us. “There they are! Two of them.” Shabda said. I looked. Powerful arms and hands. Orange spiky backs. A head with an eye and a fake eye below it. But the tail, my God, that tail is long and thick and scaly. Most iguanas look bigger than a green daschund but dragonish. A thin pig dressed in a costume.
An on-line zoologist claims that skin change from green to orange in the male occurs just before breeding season, along with dewlap extension and head bobbing. They feed on bugs and leaves, and stay near water so they can drop in and swim away, if threatened. A Green Iguana can grow up to seven feet long. I really hope one doesn’t fall on us.

Things fall out of the sky these days. The Air Force jet flattened two San Diego houses. Bernard Madoff’s fifty billion dollar investment scheme crashed on to the front pages of the New York Times last week, was splayed all over the international press, knocked us over and spilled our peace of mind, and that of many friends. Makes you want to duck. Makes your blood run cold. For the reptile cold blood is not a problem. Fire breath is another thing entirely. In the world of caves and treasure, the dragon is better than an investment firm. A large, fast-moving, burn-you-quick reptile.
Just where was that treasure-dragon when Mr. Madoff made off with all the money?

29 Saturday Nov 2008
Posted in Events, Uncategorized
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I begin by going to a film made in the movie capitol of India – Mumbai: Slumdog Millionaire. Excellent film, although the SF Chron. film editor, Mick Lasalle didn’t understand it and also mentioned it was in Hindi. I wonder if he saw it at all, since the characters spoke English. This is a remarkable story that reads like the classic Sufi tale: Layla and Majnun, only the lovers are Latika and Jamal Malik. Her name means “elegance” in Hindi, his name translates to ” handsome king,” (a Muslim name). They are orphans from hell-on-earth, the enormous Mumbai slum. His journey to his “beloved” takes him on the impossible hero’s quest. Each searing and terrible blow carries a gift he can use later on to bring him closer to Latika. Karma and dharma flash back to back, and dazzle the viewer. This award-winning film is a remarkable success by director Danny Boyle. He talks about it on You Tube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HJRzk2WfOAo
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Tribute to all who lost their lives in the attacks on Mumbai
The ear hears it first: a lingering mis-pronouncement ~ Bombay. Here’s a bomb and a bay. The name was first spoken by the Portuguese, then anglicised, some dark seed in the soft hummed syllables of the word – Mummm bai from Mumbadevi, “a goddess,” and Aai, “mother” in Marathi language. Oh, Mumbai! This hurting city needs all our sparkling thoughts to heal and be wrapped in real protection.
What if every mother begins to whisper the words Peace, Kindness, and World Family to her babies, then toddlers, then children, then young adults. She must envision that and imprint the heart of each one in her care, knowing that her words are more powerful than commands of any tyrant, or school of fear and hate. With each mothering person’s milky, whispered suggestions, vengeance and terror attack can and will lose momentum, then meaning, and finally and be retired, like Bombay, darkie, re-tard, DDT. When is the last time you heard someone say, “I’ve got a can of DDT; no more pesky mosquitos!” or “Let’s use frequent flier miles to Constantinople or Babylon.”

In 2007, I traveled to Mumbai for the Barsi, an Indian music memorial concert featuring percussive virtuosos, singers and other musicians, held in a beautiful large hall in honor of the late Ustad Allarakha Khan, India’s great Tabla Master. The concert began before dawn and finished after 10 that evening. Aside from a brief nap on sheets spread on the Green Room floor, most of us sat closely listening, hour after hour to one master performance after another. Sometimes the rhythm was so amazing, the master drummers would shout and gesture on ONE! (in a pattern of 12 or 16). I don’t remember much about eating, but we must have done that. In the evening most of the audience changed into dressier clothes for the final performances. I sipped on bottled water, and reluctantly slipped away before the end of Shakti with Zakir Hussain and John McLaughlin. We had an early morning flight to Delhi, and had arrived in the dark the night before, so I barely saw Mumbai in daylight.
Solomon and Nicole went back for the Barsi last year and took more pictures of Mumbai and had a great time there. He was featured performing as a DJ at The Blue Frog, the premier night club in Mumbai.
22 Saturday Nov 2008
Posted in Events, Uncategorized
Once long ago and far away…
I went to City Arts and Lectures In Conversation featuring Toni Morrison interviewed by Michael Krasny last night. It took place in San Francisco at Masonic Auditorium, a vast, cold place. I had a first row balcony seat. Far below, two big orange chairs were separated by a table with a vase of orange tulips. Toni Morrison is a grand presence, a woman who seems to shine with mental incandescence. She is the winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1993. This woman is funny, and deadly serious in almost the same moment. Toni Morrison is a diva. Her mind has the speed and ferocity of a whip, but she is gracious and listens carefully to all questioners with the patience of a real teacher (She teaches at Princeton University).
I’m not a big fan of her books (although I did read Beloved); I was there to listen to and experience her, and to admire her beautiful dreadlocks: silver-white and twisted in an elegant pattern falling far down her back.
But then I found myself scribbling her words on the first thing I could grab from my purse – $5 off coupons from Elephant Pharmacy called, “peanuts”. I wrote to catch the hefty statement When my father died the girl he thought I was died too. I love that. It’s so true and I’ve never heard anyone say it like that.
She talked about inhabiting her characters fully.” I can taste everything she tastes, know what she would wear, but I would never cut off the reader’s imagination by describing it all in detail.” Michael brought up an extremely sexy scene in one of her books. How did she do that? She mentioned that the secret of writing like that is to just lay the groundwork – to write (I can’t remember exactly) a part of the scene and let the reader fills in the rest with his or her imagination. Something about “corn-silk” and the touch of it. Uh-Huh!
She mentioned how slavery was diverse, not unique to (black) identity, how the part of history about “white” slavery in America and other places in the world has not been part of what Americans learn.
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The LA Times Book Review On Line, November 16, 2008 talks about A Mercy, her new book:
What is the true nature of enslavement? The smithy provides part of the answer when he tells Florens that he’s seen slaves freer than free men. “One is a lion in the skin of an ass,” he says. “The other an ass in the skin of a lion.” It’s the withering inside that truly enslaves.
When asked about the BLOG format last night, Toni Morrison commented, “Dante changed English, why not the BLOG (this time)?”
13 Thursday Nov 2008
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Jonathan Curiel mentioned the other night at his talk at the San Francisco World Affairs Council that a plan was needed to filter the Arab-Muslim world (in relation to this country) through the arts, not through violence.
This morning’s San Francisco Chronicle headlined Jonathan Curiel’s article in the Datebook section with splashy photos and a piece on “Arab Labor” a new comedy (yes, comedy!) about a Palestinian Journalist and his family “as they navigate life in Israel.” The series aired in Israel last year. The series creator, Sayed Kashua, says the show is “Seinfield –inspired.” It will be on the Link TV satellite channel (dish 9410), which is streaming the first episode free on website http://www.linktv.org/arablabor 7 p.m. Saturdays. Check it out.
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Jonathan is promoting his new book, Al’-America, an original look at the little known influences of Arab and Islamic culture on America. Here are some I marked:
Elvis Presley had a crush on a girl, and she gave him a copy of Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet. He read it, even quoted from it and it helped him “…relax and forget everything.” (Everything?)
Jim Morrison and the Doors loved Arabic music. Strong influences are discussed.
Ralph Waldo Emerson “identified closely” with Hafiz and Sufi poet Saadi. And Emerson persuaded Thoreau to read them both.
Coffee berries grown in Yemen around 1400 led to the Shadhili Sufi’s reliance on the coffee to fuel their all night chanting (zikrs). One thing led to another – the first coffeehouse! Coffee spread to Turkey, where it exploded and became national beverage. Kahve is Turkish for Arabic qahwa. By the end of the 16th century, Yemen was producing most of the Muslim world’s coffee. Then, John Smith of Jamestown fame, (isn’t that the Pokahantas Smith?) brought coffee to America after drinking it in Turkey.
Islamic architectural influences in America: The Alamo in San Antonio Texas, the Alhambra in Evansville Illinois, and – this is very strange – The World Trade Center, designed by Minoru Yamasaki in 1959. The twisted metal arches are burned into the memory of nearly every American who has seen the aftermath of 9/11. “In 1961, (Jonathan writes), exactly a year before he was awarded the World Trade Center commission, Yamasaki told the New York Times that his favorite building of all times was Iran’s Shah Mosque…’Its delicacy and beautiful proportions are very thrilling,’ Yamasaki told the paper… He believed that the buildings accomplished the goal he had set for them: to be a welcoming place for people of all nationalities to conduct world trade.” He used the words “an oasis” and “a mecca” to describe his vision for an elaborate plaza beneath the towers that was never fully realized.
Curiel has some language surprises. Christopher Columbus was known as almirante – “commander” and Queen Isabella herself was Almirante del Mar Oceano – “Commander of the Ocean Sea.” These words came from al-emir. “Alcatraz” stems from al-ghattas – “the white tailed sea eagle” and became in Spanish, alcatras, a word for “sea birds”, hence the island of sea birds – “Alcatraz.” My favorite is “algebra” – al-jabr, which he attributes to an Arabic mathematician. (He doesn’t mention this but if you take Algebra back to the root Ja Ba Ra, it means to “compel”. From there you move to “the bonesetter,” “the healer,” and “the tyrant” – all from the word that became Algebra). Tangier in Morocco, with its famous orange fruit became “tangerine.” He ends the discussion with the fact that over 500 words based in Arabic have become words in our everyday speech: “alcove,” “alchemy,” “almanac”… (Al means “the”).
The whirling poet from Afghanistan who died in Turkey, Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi is the best selling poet in America. True. Coleman Barks americanized John Arberry’s traditional British translations:
FOLLY
Why envious are ye
Of this all generous sea,
these joyous waters why
to each would ye deny?
Shall fishes treasure up
the waters in a cup,
to whom the ocean wide
will never be denied? (Arberry)
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Are you jealous of the ocean’s generosity?
Why would you prefer to give
this joy to anyone?
Fish don’t hold the sacred liquid in cups!
They swim the huge fluid freedom. (Barks)
————————
[ Certain Sufis might sing this variation with Dumbek drum, Bouzouki and two dance circles:
Fill your cup, drink it up, Ya Allah, Allah…
…Fish in the water’s not thirsty! ] This last comment is not from JC’s book.
06 Thursday Nov 2008
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
I’m writing to the High School students I met at Dodge: Riley, John, Abigail, and Samantha. There were two others, but I didn’t get their E-mail. I am writing to ask them to send the poems they are writing have written and are thinking about writing so I can publish them in The Sound, the newsletter I edit. I wish someone had written me when I was in high school, when poetry was as much a part of my identity as music. When my life blew up every couple of days. When all I had was the school “Full Cry” to submit to.
Ed Hirsh said at Dodge: “I had the idea if you started talking about poems you love, the subject of poetry would deliver itself. …The poems that changed me – like Neruda’s odes– in those poems feeling came first, then the rest. …Spirit and desire have to be embodied in poetry.”
I like that he speaks of “embodying” rather than just talking about, or mentioning. A much stronger commitment. And some of us are powerfully committed to WORDS.
Download last years Poetry Issue of The Sound – here.
26 Sunday Oct 2008
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized, Updates
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This image appeared on the glass of the coffee table, bringing outside leaves into the room. An Arabic shadda – added in photoshop – turns the upside down autumn skyscape into a joyful word for Unity.
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Here are the references from the radio show: Sufism: the Heart of Islam with Wendy McLaughlin. I mentioned Karen Armstrong, Muhammad, A Prophet for our Time; Martin Lings, Muhammad, His Life Based on the Earliest Sources; and Reza Azlan, No god but God. These all have general material on Muhammad’s wives and daughters. I forgot to mention the classic: Nabia Abbott, Aisha, the Beloved of Muhammad.
If you search farther into the primary sources – Muhammad Ibn Sa’d, The Women of Medina; Al-Tabari, The History of al-Tabari (in thirty-some volumes); A. Guillaume’s translation of Ibn Ishaq’s Sirat Rasul Allah (The Life of Muhammad); and the Alim, CD ROM (for Hadith). Gordon Newby wrote A History of the Jews of Arabia. From here on, road leads into road…. Ya Fattah (may the way open!)
The CD’s played on the show are: White Shade Cloud and The Woman with Muhammad – to order contact http://www.marinsufis.com click on – music for sale and Hear a sample! There will be a link to Wendy’s show here soon.
Damascus. One my favorite places on earth. May it be protected! See May archive for my visit to the Mosque of the Grand Mufti.
23 Thursday Oct 2008
Posted in Updates
This coming Monday October 27th at 5:30 PM West Coast time I’m being interviewed about my forthcoming book, Married to Muhammad, by Wendy McLaughlin for sufiradio show on KWMR. You can find it on the internet atwww.kwmr.org, clicking on the ON AIR sign under the cow. On the radio in the Bay Area, it’s 90.5 FM in most of Marin and 89.7 FM in Bolinas and SF.
21 Tuesday Oct 2008
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My good friend Wendy Taylor Carlisle and I spent four soggy but word-happy days at Dodge a couple weeks ago. I gathered sixty-some pages of notes on the four days of poetry. The website states that almost 20,000 people attended! Student Day claimed a registration of 5,000 high school students from all over the country. I spoke with youth poets from Maryland, New Jersey, and Jacksonville, Florida. Several offered to send poems to The Sound – the newsletter I edit – for the January poetry issue. Here are words from master poets Robert Haas, Naomi Shihab Nye, and Lucille Clifton when they spoke to the young writers:
Robert Haas
Just imagine a place where American High School students and American writers could get together and talk about poetry!
The order in which you present information is crucial. Robert Frost wrote: “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.” A translation might read, “There is something that does not love a wall.” That simple inversion would lose the poetic beauty of the phrase. It can strike the reader – yes, but in examining what is meant, the order of the words makes it hard to pin that down…
Sometimes it’s good to take down barriers, sometimes it’s good to put them up. [He says later on referring to a Wallace Stevens poem] – That poem hypnotized me because it felt emotionally true.
Why is poetry so powerful? An answer to that might be: Whole worlds we acquire with a word – just buried inside one word!
Naomi Shihab Nye:
Here’s an idea: hand out business cards with the names of your five favorite poets.
Whatever the experience, you can always find a poem that’s been to that moment before you.
Poetry is the cheapest art. You don’t have to be rich to write, but you will be rich because the language can give you so much. Time slows down when you write a poem: think of this, notice that…take inspiration from things on the perimeters of your life, ask questions and wonder. Curiosity helps keep poetry alive. Poets aren’t ever bored. There is so much to think about!
Lucille Clifton:
There are all kinds of ways of being smart.
I want to write about what it is to be human, about us recognizing in each other a kind of sameness. This culture is afraid of difference. There are lots of different names for deity, and deity answers [to them all].
Walt Whitman didn’t have an MFA. I think one has to feel in order to be a fine poet; connect spirit, feeling, and intellect, or just write greeting cards.
Cleverness is often in the way of poetry!
If someone doesn’t teach you something, go out and learn it. The more you learn, the more you are able to cope with surprises.
If you leave reason out sometimes you can have important things, but if you leave heart out, your writing doesn’t live.
Poetry wants to speak for those who have not yet found a voice to speak.
The greatest poet writing in my time is Stanley Kunitz.
Our mission as poets is to let the poem become what it wants to be.