“Waiting For Jack” Tonight! Sat. Oct. 16th Encore Performance

 

John Densmore producing play Waiting For Jack

  • September 24th, 2010 7:59 pm ET

It looks like Oct 16th is shaping up to be a date for poetic remembrances of literary hero’s. In Nashville on the 16th will be A Night to Remember Jim Morrison In Poetry, Film & Song. Now we have a John Densmore produced (along with Michael C Ford, Eve Brandstein, and Rex Weiner) play, Waiting for Jack.

Waiting For Jack is described as a rough recreation of the famous Gallery Six Reading in 1955 in which Allen Ginsberg first read Howl. The original reading wasn’t a staid polite poetry reading given to sipping tea, maybe smoking of tea*. It was a raucous affair with jugs of wine being passed around with Kerouac exhorting the poets from the audience much as a Jazz fan would encourage a solo.

In Waiting For Jack, John Densmore plays Gary Snyder, and along with the poetry Densmore plays the bongo’s. The play is the brainchild of Rex Weiner and Michael C. Ford and seeks not a literal reenactment of the Gallery Six reading or the poets that were there, but seeks the spirit of the night. The play recreates the raucous atmosphere of the original Gallery Six reading with off stage commentators adding punctuating remarks to the poetry in the form of heckling, flirting, bickering much like a Greek chorus or perhaps a beat “Our Town.”

The 90 minute play also features Eric Trules as Allen Ginsberg, Doug Knott as Charles Bukowski, Eve Brandstein as Diane DiPrima, and a whole host of others who on any given night of the performance may participate. Waiting For Jack has previously been performed in August of this year for a three night stand at The Short Stop Bar in Echo Park. You can see photos of the performance on their website. Producer Rex Weiner is hoping in the future to find the show a permanent residence so the show can be held regularly. Early next year they will take the show to college campuses around the country.

Waiting For Jack is a one night only affair Oct 16th, 2010 at 7 PM, $7.00 donation at the door. It will be presented at Tom Landau’s Studio 1520, 1520 2nd St., Santa Monica, CA, 90403.

*At the time tea was the euphemism for marijuana.

Read previous related articles: Jim Morrison A Night to Remember, Elektra Records 60th Birthday Party, International Jim Morrison Appreciation Day

Thank you for reading The Doors Examiner!

Jim Cherry

Cast includes:

Stephen Kalinich (Jack Micheline), S.A. Griffin (Lawrence Ferlinghetti),

Lisa K. Thayer (Ann Waldman), Elkanah Burns (Frank O’Hara),

Theida Salazar (Bob Kaufman) Herbert T. Schmidt, Jr. (Kenneth Patchen),

Doug Knott (Charles Bukowski), Eve Brandstein (Diane DiPrima),

John Densmore (Gary Snyder), John DiFusco (Lew Welch),

Bill Duke (LeRoi Jones), Eric Trules (Allen Ginsberg)

and  Susan Hayden (Bobbie Louise Hawkins)

with special surprise guests… and your hosts, Michael C. Ford and Rex Weiner.

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“THE MAGIC HAND” by Stephen John Kalinich

Photo by L. K. Thayer

Poems can never make adequate explanations
for man and his many hesitations
and his constant deviation
from what is real.
They love me through wooden eyes
The tree of love in one heart lies.
The bough brushes gently along the ground
For waiting souls long to touch it.
Its mystical and deep
and sorely needing
and cautious and slow to constant heeding
and has been eternally bleeding.
It lies in deserts
and in the sand
In mountains one can sense the hand
The Hand that molded shelf by shelf
the lower and the higher self.
It placed Man somewhere
in between
what is
and what seems to have been
The spark of all
and the machine.
It asks him only to obey
The heart within
The only way.
From ancient histories of the past
through destruction’s   terrorism
and nuclear blast
The only breath that one sees last
is the breath of love.
Through its nostril’s clean it breathe pure air
until man put hate and impurities there
pervading the atmosphere released by thought
separating each from the eternal ought
not ought to be
or ought to do
but the ought of spirit
Which told the secret
There is no woman
no man
no sex
no creed
no race
but only spirit
on a constant chase
towards itself
shelf by shelf
building growing
and forever flowing.
The hour is approaching
the animal is dying
the soul is moving upward
and forever trying.
Dissolving all that came before
the new man speaks as one who knows
Not with words of Brass
Or steel edged lies
or pleading groan or cries
he speaks of all
that there can be
in the  life of eternity
which does not begin
for visitors of the earth
but those that live
in the here and now.
The dead are walking
down the street
Look at them.
Each others eyes
constantly meet
and they know in their heart
that death is necessary for one to grow
they must die to  old thoughts
Old habits
and live what is new
and that    is    man who is a heart
that   flows into   all hearts.
That lifts up
and laughs
and purifies.
On the other side of death
is life
and life is loving
and Zombies who gather together
in Congregations mass strangulation’s
feel the bubble is bursting
because their soul is thirsting
Thirsting for a touch of the hand
the Magic hand
that with fingers
finer than pure gold
fingers not made
if flesh or bone
fingers that are all things
This Magic Hand
echoes as as symbol
in every land
that itself
it is a part of every woman
every child
and every man.

Stephen John Kalinich
All Rights Reserved

© 2007

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010

“Inspiration Follows” by Stephen John Kalinich

Inspiration follows our intention
or can re align our concerns
radical realization
that all is love
all is spirit
can shift ones perspective
and in this world
we must guard our thoughts and expressions
without blocking them
We must first
overcome the rage within ourselves
Every lesson
is a lesson for the self.
limit limitation
yield to the highest within you
The source of music and joy
singing
dance and poetry.
each moment
is a new opportunity
no one stands in your way
but you
walk through the door.

The journey is grand
the yearning to experience
levels and realms
untapped within
glorious resting places
Oasis in hearts and minds
where we can quench our thirst
Where we can touch the mystery.

yesterday is gone
done
finished
see within yourself
the grace
that we are all a living part of
Today tonight this moment
you can  touch the night
turn the tides.
Inspiration is your friend
You need look no further than you
for all the answers
including how
to communication with others
without domination
or an attempt
to control another.
I am that being
that dances
with rainbows
touches stars
crosses Galaxies
I am you
laugher is on the road
kindle relationships
give from your soul
and receive from life
all its blessings
the  fist and the open hand
can join
in the energy
onward it echoes
meet the hour
it says
nothing hinders you
Celebrate the newness
of each breath
loving
each other
from the Heart of love
soaring with the angels
yet
with ones feet on the ground!

Stephen John Kalinich

Photo by L. K. Thayer

© 2010

Last Night!! “Waiting For Jack” A Poetry Theater Event @ The Shortstop Bar

WAITING FOR JACK
A Poetry Theater Event
Produced by and Eve Brandstein, Rex Weiner & Michael C Ford,
Presented by The Shortstop

•    WHAT: Prominent LA Poets reading the works of Beat Era Poets… an homage, an invocation of spirits, and a rousing night of live poetry presented by the legendary Shortstop Bar in Echo Park
•    WHEN: Aug 13, 14, and 15, 7:00 – 9:30 each night
•    WHO: produced by Eve Brandstein, Rex Weiner and  Michael C. Ford,
•    WHERE: The Shortstop, 1455 West Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA 90026
•   CONTACT: (213) 482-4942 (public)… (323) 997 2853 (press only)
•    HOW MUCH: $5 donation

In a loose re-creation of the historic 1955 Six Gallery poetry reading, and other readings of the Beat Era, a group of prominent LA poets read favorite poems by Beat icons. As they read, they take on the personae of the various poets, and a dramatic situation takes shape as two offstage commentators drink, goof, commiserate and conjure up the poet-readers from the audience, one after another: all the while awaiting the arrival of “Jack” (Kerouac), who is always late, and may not show up. Finally, Jack appears (or does he?) and brings the evening to an emotional climax.

The 90-minute piece is partly scripted, partly improvised, not unlike a jazz performance where musicians depart from the sheet music to do their own thing. Poets are invited to choose the poems they prefer to read. The cast changes from night to night. As the evening progresses, the reality of the present shifts back and forth to the past. The effect will be a shamanistic evocation of the Beat Era, an homage to its lost heroes, as well as an entertaining night of live poetry.

POETS (only 8 or 9 will be read each night)

Denise Levertov
Kenneth Rexroth
Charles Bukowski
Philomene Long
PhilipWhalen
Diane DiPrima
Frank Lima
Kenneth Patchen
Barbara Guest
Ray Bremser
Ann Waldman
Jack Micheline
Laurence Ferlinghetti
Gregory Corso
Bob Kaufman
Lew Welch
John Thomas
Jack Kerouac
William Carlos Williams
Allen Ginsberg
Michael McClure
Gary Snyder
Philip Whalen
Brother Antoninus
Henry Miller
Philip Lamantia
LeRoi Jones/Amiri Baraka
Lenore Kandel
William S. Burroughs
Ted Joans

READERS:

Herbert T. Schmidt, Jr., Sarah Maclay, Bill Duke,  L. K. Thayer, Stephen John Kalinich, S.A. Griffin, John Harris, Pegarty Long, Jerry Garcia, Gail Wronsky, Chuck Rosenthal,  Cyril O’Reilly, Michael C Ford, Eve Brandstein,  Rex Weiner

“The Lullaby” by Stephen John Kalinich

Foto by L. K. Thayer


The lullaby of your being

touches me in such a way

that I feel better

when I see you.

I feel like I can face the world

All the pettiness is useless

and it doesn’t lead to goodness

so why do I indulge it anyway.

The wind sweeps right through me

takes my breath away

I feel alive

there’s a mattress on the corner

of the concrete that I sleep on

there are crushed bags

in a shopping cart

That I drag along with me

As I go to every bus stop

The strangers they walk bye me

and drive bye in their autos

They are rushing somewhere

and it must be important.

I can not figure out

why they are in such a hurry.

Never taking time to pick up

cigarette butts from the gutter

or fall down on the concrete

to look at the ants crawling

and forming into cities.

The lullaby of your being

touches me in such a way

that I feel better

when I see you.

I feel like I can face the world

Maybe the start of something

Heart ache broken down

not explainable in words

echoes forever.

Runs through my veins

like a rainbow of dissolving hope.

Eyes of sadness

fill the misty morning madness

see through the never ending circumference

of indifference

The world does not weep for me.

They put me upon a shelf

and I am one of the forgotten

who sleeps upon sidewalks

stands in doorways

The gutter is my ash tray.

Heart ache broken down

not explainable in words

echoes forever.

I am the memory

that does not die-

The feeling of forever

that knows

nothing can be constant

all is change-

All is impermanent.

Stephen John Kalinich

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

All Rights Reserved

© 2010

Stephen John Kalinich

Foto by L. K. Thayer

“Poetry is an ongoing process

it never stops
both the visual poetry
and  the emotional scale of poems
that form into words
after they come out
they need to be  pruned
a garden needs tending and once
on rare  occasion
a blossom erupts
breaks through the soil and
a living plant appears .
If a poem can ever do that
it will touch you.
It will be magic.
Our paintings
are visual poems
that speak in another language
a wordless expression
that speaks to the eyes and senses.
that can awaken all the colors of being.”
Peace,
© 2010

“TUMBLE” by Stephen John Kalinich

I TUMBLED OUT
OF THE SKY
AND STILL
I WAS INSIDE OF YOU.
I EXPLODED IN THE GALAXIES
AND YOU WERE THERE
ALWAYS LARGER
THAN MY PROBLEM
YOU WROTE THE MELODY
WITHIN MY BEING
YOU GRAFTED YOURSELF
TO EVERY VEIN
YOU TRANSFORMED

EVERY JOINT AND CELL
YOU SOOTHED THE SORENESS
OF MY ACHING SOUL.
MIRACULOUS SELF
THAT I CAN NEVER RUN AWAY FROM
MAJESTIC TRUMPETER
OF THE HEAVENS
YOUR HORN
PLAYED IN ME
BEFORE CONCEPTION
THERE IS
NO TIME
THAT YOU ARE NOT
WHEN I SLEEP
YOU COMFORT ME
WHEN I WAKE UP
YOU ARE MY EYES

AND BREATH.
YOU WEAVE ME
OUT
OF YOUR SELF
WITH AN INVISIBLE THREAD
OUT
OF A CELESTIAL
PRAGMATIC FABRIC.
YOU ARE EVERY NOTE
EVERY COMBINATION
OF COLORS.
YOU ARE THE BEFORE
AND THE AFTER.
I FEEL YOU IN MY FINGERS
IN MY TOES.
YOU PUT
YOUR INDELIBLE STAMP
IN EVERY SUNSET
YOU FLOW THROUGH
EVERY RIVER
YOU ARE MY UNDISCOVERED
POSSIBLE SPIRIT
YOU ARE BEYOND

ALL MY TRIBULATIONS
YOU ARE THE PEACE OF THE WORLD
YOU CAN NOT BE ERADICATED
DESTROYED.
WHEN THEY THINK YOU DISSOLVE

WHEN YOU VANISH BEFORE
THE EYES OF THE UNIVERSE
YOU MERELY
CHANGE FORMS
YOU CANNOT BE REDUCED
OR DIMINISHED
YOU ISSUE
OUT OF LOVE
YOU REMAIN IN LOVE
YOU ARE LASTING
ACTIVE LIVING PEACE..

Stephen John Kalinich

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

All Rights Reserved

© 2010

“THE PRICE” by Stephen Kalinich

he picks up his guitar
puts his keys upon the table
starts playing chords he never played before
the mood is right and everyone starts dancing
and he throws down a few beers
before you know
his eyes are blurry
and he stumbles for the door
and never makes it
wakes up at 5 Am
and every body’s gone
and he cant find his keys
so what is he going to tell his mother

who is waiting in the kitchen over
there in Colorado
that he cant hold his liquor
and he is still a boy of 17
that wants to be all grownup
Well he comes home
and his mom says

maybe you should start paying your own bills
in the meantime
milk the cows
and do the dishes
before your dad gets home.
He heads out the door

and turns on the ignition
as he heads for California
and he’s never coming back
His boots are black and shiny
and he has a big tattoo
on his right arm
and his back.
He crashes into someone
and now he’s in a coma
and one second can make
such a difference in a life.
I do not know the answer
or have a quick solution
if there is a morale
make the conclusion for yourself.
Make your decisions wisely

and never drink and drive
he’ll be lucky
if he gets out of this alive.
If this songs a little morbid
it happens every single day
if you want to be a grown up
there a price to pay.

Stephen Kalinich

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010