Over the years I have become great friends with Larry Jaffe, which is a great honor to me. Friends like Larry should be shared With the world, this is why Larry is the Outsider Of The Month. Most people in the writing business know who Larry is, and those who know him are blown away by his passion for poetry, and justice. Larry has sent me
the manuscripts for his two upcoming books. Terezin Blue is all about a Jewish poets visit to a concentration camp. Butterfly Logic is simply a book about love and beauty. Both books are exelent and I can't wait for their release. There are exerts from both books included in the feature below. I present to you the Outsider Of The Month for October.
The man that changed my life and the way I look at poetry, Larry Jaffe.

MDG: When you were growing up in the Bronx what did you read?

LGJ: Jeepers I read a lot of sports type books especially Mickey Mantle’s bio.  I am major Yankee fanatic still to this day and I love Mantle. There was a sport series called Chip Hilton I think (am gonna look on the Internet and see how good my recollect is).  Well dang if I wasn’t spot on.  Can you dig that?  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chip_Hilton
 

MDG I have to ask is the story about Miles and his trumpet true?

LGJ: Absolutely true including his telling me about San Francisco women.

MDG: Growing up in the Bronx how important were the Yankees and do you feel they are an important part of your poetry now?

LGJ: Well you saw how I answered Q 1. I love the Yankees written poems about them including this one…

Pinstripe Suits
 
I grew up wanting to wear a pinstripe suit
but not the kind that banker’s wear. No,
I wanted to wear the pinstripes that adorned
my baseball heroes, the New York Yankees
legends of the long ball, running the outfield
skirting my Bronx birthplace.
 
I was born in the shadow of Yankee stadium;
born so bad I slapped the doc and pinched the nurse
just down the street where Bronx hospital rocked
with muse in daily delivery— March 31 the day.
 
But all I wanted was to wear a Yankee uniform,
put spikes on my feet, run the infield, slide into home,
Grace the house that Ruth built, DiMaggio reigned
and Mantle owned.
 
—they dressed in sports regalia, as if it were religion
they pursued and not homeruns, They wore
Holy Roller pinstripes; holy trinity of Ruth, DiMaggio
and Mantle crossed their bats and hoped to hit.

I longed to dress in locker rooms and hear my name
called on public address systems, look into the sun
and catch fly balls and pound my bat at the plate
making ready to be the next Sultan of Swat,
Yankee Clipper or the Mick.
 
I was born in the Bronx, living above a dry cleaning
Store—played catch with myself.

I grew up wanting to dress in pinstripes and wear that
Yankee suit because I could never wear a tie without
feeling enslaved.  I wanted to roam centerfield not a
factory or an office.  And if I couldn’t play baseball,
then I had to be a poet.

© 1999 – 2003 lgjaffe

There is something to the rhythm and beauty of baseball that intrigues me more than any other sport. The skill level has to be so high. It is a dance for me. I love it.

MDG: You're readings that you hosted in LA had so much energy. How did you create that?

LGJ: I believe that each of us is capable of creating energy.  And that if you grant beingness at a high spiritual level you can tap into each individual who puts their shoulder to the wheel. There was a lot of love in those rooms and care and respect.  Each poet was asked to do their best week after week after week. It was incredible to be the conductor of these events. So we created energy with our art…

MDG: You have toured all over the US and Europe where is your favorite place to read?

LGJ: This is going to sound so corny but my favorite place to read is the one I just read in.  I love to read. I love people and it works out great.  But true there are some special places .. Dylan Thomas Centre in Wales was very very special. The Japanese American Museum was as well. Of course the whole series at the Autry was just wondrous. I loved reading at the Jewish Museum in Prague and the Museum of Literature was total wow.
I read in pub in Bristol UK with about 300 raucous people in it and will never forget that one.  Nor will I forget reading in the Poetry Café in London.  Jeez Mike they are all so fresh and fantastic I sometimes think I can remember each and every one.  I read in a gumbo restaurant in Alabama and they got upset with me for climbing on the tables… what’s a poet to do?  Recently, I read at Saint Hill in what is known as the great room and that was spectacular.

MDG: Please tell us about your recent Saint Hill Lifetime Achievement Award.

LGJ: Wow Mike you've known me for a long time and you know I did not come down the academic highway as a poet not by a long shot.  I am a product of the streets and folk poet if I could venture a category.  Almost everything I have done in and with poetry has been by initiative with major help from poet friends. It’s been incredible. to tell you the truth cuz I know I built what I got and no one did me any favors. But to get this award and it is a beautiful award was beyond my wildest imagination. To be rewarded for what I love to do.  All I can say is wow!  I was pretty speechless tell you the truth.. The producer of the festival Sheila Gaiman told me the day before that I would be getting the award and I must admit I was in tears. To get this award means a lot not just because of the art but because of the cause of human rights I support with every fiber of being.   This is what Sheila said at the presentation:  "Each year an artist is chosen who uses their art to help their town, country, or the world. Larry is the first artist selected to be working for the safety of the entire planet and we very much want to encourage this and are very proud of his work.”

MDG: You were also recently named Poet Laureate for Youth for Human Rights correct?

LGJ: Yes, it has been quite a month of honors.  I have been working with them since their formation because I believe it to be imperative that we educate people on their human rights as per the Human Rights Declaration of 1948 by the United Nations. http://youthforhumanrights.org/index.htm

MDG: Which is a greater honor?

LGJ: Both of them… <grin>

MDG: If you were to give a state of human rights address today what would you say. Given the ongoing war, the trials of the Jena Six and so on?

LGJ: I want to tell you what I do in my human rights workshops because we all know that we have a screwed scene but what we do not know is what our rights actually are and if we were all to demand those rights well I think you would find a different world.  So rather than decry all the b.s. (we know it is there) my approach is proactive rather than being reactive.  I read selections of my work that is human rights oriented.  I explain the universal declaration of human rights as mentioned above (http://youthforhumanrights.org/introduction/udhr_abridged.html). Then I hand out booklets that contain the declaration. I have each person in the room stand up and recite one of the rights. And I tell you when I hear individuals do this it still amazes me. These are very very powerful words.  After we have finished individually reading all the rights I go around the room and get each person to tell me which is their favorite right and why.  I then get them to right poetry about their favorite right. And then the grand culmination a reading of these poems.  It is absolutely incredible to experience this.

MDG: Is there anything you would like to add?

LGJ: I would like to just say that I think it imperative for all artists but poets especially to embrace human rights.  It is important for poetry to be relevant to readers and listeners so that we may have a renaissance of the written and spoken word.  I want to be like Neruda a world citizen using my art to cut through bureaucracy and hate and violence.  I want to drop poems not bombs. I want to hear laughter instead of pain.

EXERTS FROM TEREZIN BLUE

SLEEPING WITH BARBWIRE
 
I sleep with the memory
of barbwire
its grizzled surface
wrapped round
my limbs
spires of pain
erupt from thoughts
retrieved from gallows.
 
I will never forget
forgive you.

I once loved
but you journeyed
with another
left me
an open grave
without choices.

I was once was patriotic
believed in my country
right or wrong
but it smelled funny
like something
the cat left behind
after midnight murder.

The barbwire
curls around
my testicles
suffocating
there is no
dull pain.

Nevertheless
I believe
in the innate
nature of goodness
hope it spreads
like holy butter
on hot toast.

THE CHILDREN OF TEREZIN
 
When I visited Camp Terezin 
the children called to me
they left ethereal homes
dropped blankets
and held out their tiny hands
for me to lift them up
and hold them close.
 
I hugged every one of them
as they told me 
of Terezin  and how
their fairy-tales kept them
alive until story time was over.
 
I hugged every one of them
as they told me how
they painted pictures
with their fingers
dipped in their mothers’ blood.
 
I hugged every one of them
as they sang songs
and told me nursery rhymes
 
            there was an old man
            who lived in a camp
            a place cold and damp
            he never went home
            he gnawed on a bone
            they lived unhappily ever after
 
I hugged every one of them
as they told me about
the playground of graves
how they played hopscotch
over tombstones
and ring around a rosey
was truth
 
            ashes ashes
            all fall down
 
only when they fell down
they never got up.
 
I hugged every one of them
even the lost soul
who crossed himself
like a gentile
when he cried.
 
I hugged every one of them
because the children of Terezin
no longer wait for their mothers
to call them home
 
today they have been set free.

DARKNESS AT DARFUR
 
– never again
– never again
– never again
 
When I was young
this mantra
of never again
never again
never again
was drummed
into my eyes
ears
nose
& throat
 
– never again
never again
keeps happening ever again

They say the never
ending sun in Darfur
never sets yet why
is it always dark?

Bodies carelessly
bent, mislaid
souls displaced
– never again

Publicity spins
brave new words
presidents pompous
finger pointing
dictators dancing
masters of chicanery
feudal frauds
their mouths lying
for public order
only to feed
their arduous ardor.

They fail to remember
that the hangman’s
noose swings both ways

– never again
– never again
– never again

---------------------
EXERTS FROM BUTTERFLY LOGIC

BUTTERFLY ANGEL
 
butterfly angel
soars with infinity
no rest stops
gliding from
blossom to blossom
bringing new flowers
to her fold to bloom
butterfly angel
knows
shifts into winged ecstasy
morphs into woman
touching hearts
without compromise
butterfly angel
flies into infinity

TATTOOS OF DESIRE
 
Your neck
the birthplace
of desire.

A tattooist
looks upon
this canvas
transfers doves
& eccentricity
to its lush bend.

He paints
passion’s evening
and a butterfly
allowing
the nightingale
to arch at the nape. 
He illustrates
– his eyes closed

kisses lingering…

KITE FLIER
 

You are the butterfly
who escaped reason
whirling your colors
in empathy
as your tongue
disdains excuses.

    – the room grows darker
    with your departure
 
I wander relentless
pursuing your silent
wing falls
drinking deeply
at your draught.

     – I follow
     a desert dream

While you dance
to the music
of the wind
I fly kites
in hopes
of distracting you.

I could be blind
and know you
are beautiful.

Last update : 01-10-2007 12:37

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