Tuesday, 3 May 2011

Fuck Bin Laden R.I.P Ira Cohen (3/2/35 - 25/4/11)

So Osama Bin Laden. Dead or alive.  Has he not already been killed once, back in 2001.No chance of him inconveniently turning up alive. I don't know whether to believe this story.even less believable than the London Met. But if he really is dead why has NATO decided to retain 140,000 troops in Afghanistan. Perhaps they  know that a global terrorist network is looking for a new manager.
It's still indiscriminate hypocricy though. Many thousands more are killed and silenced by cluster bombs and bullets, buried under warped truth. History repeats itself like a curse. Do we seek  to stoke the flames of reactionary forces and division.Terrorists kill, Governments kill, what is the difference? Civilisation, oh look at us,  aren't we clever, still playing the old blame game, finding bullshit redemption.Undercover of the night, bodies lost at sea. Evil bogeyman killed, people rejoice and the killing carries on regardless.
Anyway here's a quote

" I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not recognise in the death of one. Not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. "

- Martin Luther King

Anyway,
I'm not going to surrender to hate,  I believe in a future one day soon where love will overtake. Another word is ours for the taking.
Even sadder news with the death of Mr Ira Cohen, freed from the fetters of hope. A poet and universal visionary , filmaker, bookmaker, friend to many,disciple of eclectism, shaman of insight, R.I.P.
and the dust so fine
these are suggestions
wave on wave
reach out
each ring
will be upon the wind
some of us forever invisible
carried on honeyed breeze
far in to oceanic jungle
staring out
as mountains erupt
volcanic storms
sway forever, forever , forever

Link to wiki entry on Ira Cohen.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ira_Cohen


 Ira Cohen in conversation.



Song to Nothing -Ira Cohen

And surely we will die without memory
coming to cold in the shadow of space
& if it isn't too late
for the star to love you
spraying the sky with whispers
attuned to galaxies hungry for flame
And if the togue of night sings
of Albino winos
till the morning light shafts
the doorway
then surely we will die tonight
faceless at the White Gate
sharing the smoke
with ancient shapes in future garb
and you stand somewhere there
on the other side
feeding on the painof dreamlessness
Where from the misty morning of
white shadows
& the unresisting need to destroy?

Samuel, Samuel, I beg it may be forgiven
that they may be driven
out of the black into the white
Only let the dazzle remain
for gamblers to surprise
the stragecic diamond, the throne
of compressed bone
in the unshored dark
where only light can forgive
& your mind is singed
Embers of echoes in the vastness
disguise the yearning to burn blind eyes
in arrogant displays of feeling?
Running wild these beasts will feast
on the newborn kind
for surely we will die tonight
unless we learn to ignore
what the others live for
on the other side of morning
& the skin of Nothing left by the same summer
masks the faceless wanderer

O let it happen
this wierd to discover
the shape of Beauty in everything extreme

for surely we will die tonight
whether we will or whether we
dream
O Samuel, forgive the dreamer
forgive the dream
The Song of Nothing is your lullabye.