kagablog

November 5, 2009

gary cummiskey’s romancing the dead: a sharp cunt dripping honey

Filed under: reviews, pravasan pillay, poetry, dye hard press — ABRAXAS @ 9:00 pm

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pravasan pillay’s tearoom books has published the chapbook of the year.

there’s no escaping it.

the moment you see gary cummiskey’s face you start screaming

because

there is fire in the enema of art

he put it there

poignantly

not yet free of the dream nor of the memory of when you came to me not wearing panties beneath your light summer dress

but the moment you got on top of me and you saw my face you started screaming

As far as South Africa is concerned a reason for Gary Cummiskey’s neglect may stem from the fact that he spent almost 20 years in Randburg, and by the time he returned to settle down in Sandton, the political situation had changed and so Cummiskey’s surrealist work seemed out of place. Thus Gary had become a marginalised figure as a result of poth psychogeographical and cultural factors.

He writes in “European Writers” “Some people became poets after corresponding with European writers. I became a poet after sleeping on a razorblade.”

And this means that Gary is sharp.

He’s busy looking for a magic wand - no strings attached.

Another problem that may account for the relative obscurity of Gary’s work is the difficulty of placing it within the various ‘movement’ categorisations. While Romancing the Dead contains a number of poems dealing with the Colonial City scene in Joburg, the rest of his work does not particularly reflect the social context in which it was created.

In the end it boils down to the “Painting”:

I am hungry and dirty.
My feet stink.
I want to brush my teeth.

However, it can also not be ignored that Cummiskey’s illness sometimes made him an extremely difficult person, and most publishers and editors were reluctant to deal with him. For this reason alone Pravasan Pillay must be commended. Despite there being no physical attraction Pillay liked Cummiskey as a friend.

Gary was aware of his outsider status, and openly declared that he did not wish to fit in with any particular group or category. But there is a difference between being an outside and being marginalised to the point of neglect - and Cummiskey’s work is neglected. (Although Stephen Gray would probably not agree).

Romancing the dead is a funeral ceremony and all Gary’s sleeping relatives sit on the floor of the bathroom around the bath where his corpse is laid. Once the sleepers have been given the pills to swallow when you left you took them out from your handbag and slipped them back on.

Some people become poets after sleeping with European writers. Gary Cummiskey is a razorblade. Very sharp.

Aryan Kaganof
5/11/2009

tearoom books
ISBN 978-0-620-44717-1

writing on the margin from the margin: sinclair beiles

Filed under: literature, poetry, dye hard press — ABRAXAS @ 8:34 pm

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Who was Sinclair Beiles?, a compilation of writings about the South African Beat poet who died in 2000, was recently published by Dye Hard Press.

Co-editors Gary Cummiskey and Eva Kowalska, along with contributor Fred de Vries, will discuss issues about the book, such as:

· Why has Sinclair Beiles’s work been neglected in South Africa?

· Why has there previously been no serious attempt to evaluate his work, and why has it fallen to a small publisher to make the first attempt at doing so?

· What are the challenges involved in trying to evaluate a marginalised writer such as Beiles?

· What is the purpose and relevance now, in 2009, in writing about Beiles?

The panel discussion will take place in the Seminar Room at WISER, 6th Floor, Richard Ward Building, East Campus, Wits University on

Monday, 9 November 2009, at 18:30

Copies of Who was Sinclair Beiles? will be on sale at the event

A Girl Named Rana

Filed under: suchoon mo, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 7:10 pm

I met a pretty girl
she told me
her name was Rana Pipien

I told her
that was a nice french name
a beautiful french name

she smiled and said
she was a frog
I smiled

savage grace

Filed under: jimmy "wordsworth" rage, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 4:05 pm

my desire
is stronger

my resolve
full of love,
blossoming
in head
heart
hands
feet
souls
lips
tongue.
.
..my fire is smiling
like sun
to be
and become

Trust the blank things
we don’t speak

the black be-ings
we make,
destroy
and
become.

November 4, 2009

The Abandoned Cemetery

Filed under: suchoon mo, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 8:21 am

wild flowers bloom
in the abandoned cemetery
wild flower die
in the abandoned cemetery

November 3, 2009

Mots souples

Filed under: dionysos andronis, poetry, dye hard press — ABRAXAS @ 12:33 pm

Couché près de toi
en silence pendant que

le vent frappe
le rideau à côté

traduit par Dionysos Andronis

HAIL THE HEROES OF SOUTH AFRICA!

Filed under: poetry, andile mngxitama, politics — ABRAXAS @ 11:48 am

Our heroes
Mandela, Tutu, and the brave Jansen
The dancing Zuma and pipe smoking Mbeki
Hail our heroes and heroines who brought us freedom
Freedom to live in RDP houses,
Freedom to live in shacks
Freedom to perpetually look for employment with a smile
At least we eat pap and meat everyday
We are not Zimbabwe!

They are starving because Mugabe offended the whites
Whites bring pap and meat
Mugabe is stupid!
The moronic moron

Hail our super intelligent leaders who saved us so that we can be:
Waiters and waitresses
Mine workers
Volunteers
Managers without power
Loaded BEE zombies

Voters every five years!

We are free!

Viva Mdiba we thank you for 2010 soccer world cup
Now the whites can come and play soccer and we shall sing shosholoza!
We shall show them all how good and efficient we are
Together as one simunye grooves

Behold the heroes of our celebrated democracy
Our heroes are those who endured shit and piss at UFS
Our hero is the man cleaning the toilet at O.R. Tambo Airport with a smile
Thank you sir, yes mam, smiling happy toilet cleaner
The black woman who sweeps the street at dead of night hail!

Democracy is a miracle

Free but a slave

Freedom we love you
Our heroes are full of shit!

From Mau Mau’s poetry for a shit country

The Sound of A Door Bell

Filed under: poetry — ABRAXAS @ 8:58 am

ding dong
ding dong
ding?
dong!
made in china

silent snow
white snow
soft snow
snow snow

the cat barked
the mouse farted
miracle!

they burn dead people
by the ganges river
I burn dead wood
in a cast iron stove

I hold a single sock
with two hands
left and right
I have two feet
left or right?

she has huge eye balls
two of them
want to kiss her?

October 23, 2009

post apartheid stress syndrome

Filed under: helge janssen, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 2:20 pm

pass

passed

waiting in the corridors
fighting in the minds of those
identifying with the work of our
fellows

then the strange came

then the swarm swarmed
the beehive money
for the taking

the quondam regime
being so despicable
made it easy to be immune
to assume entitlement
for laws of just settlement
were wavered
in the winds

of course change has come
the change to be like them
they fell into the trap
with arms wide open

had learnt the uncorrected things
to fit into the old flake shoes
also to stomp the path well ridden

they missed an opportunity golden
they thrashed the thing they loved
where money does buy love

is only to be human

nature

they just couldn’t rise above
the dis-ease of euphoria

this is their legacy as it now bends
whether they want to stone it or not

October 15, 2009

pianissimo

Filed under: amy shelver, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 5:33 pm

pointed,

everything you

write pricks

the atmosphere

and plumbs

the poison

well of hell.

torture!

like a bonsai master

papyrus into parabola

paraphrase to paralyse

gifted master

with down-side in

parasol plumbing

phallic reverse

pricking

pay attention.

the patient student

likes to piranha.

lorca

Filed under: anton krueger, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 4:39 am

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October 14, 2009

Stephen Gray and Sinclair Beiles: which is the real literary con man?

Filed under: kaganof, literature, poetry, dye hard press — ABRAXAS @ 9:32 pm

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Stephen Gray, in his review of “Who was Sinclair Beiles”, (Mail & Guardian, 07/09/09) implies that Sinclair was “some sort of impostor? A scam?” Gray’s egregious insinuation is further developed in the article: “In the classic accounts of the period, James Campbell’s The Beat Generation and Barry Miles’s The Beat Hotel, “our boy” merits only a footnote or two, and no listing of his works, if there were any, in the bibliographies.”

In fact Sinclair Beiles was co-author, along with William Burroughs, Brion Gysin and Gregory Corso of the hugely influential “Minutes To Go”, published by Two Cities Editions. Here is some information about this book by Jed Birmingham of Reality Studio: “One book in my collection highlights the important role of the independent bookshop in Burroughs’ social and creative life. Kaddish, Naked Lunch, Soft Machine, and Bomb were all written in part at the Beat Hotel, but the book that most captures the spirit of 9 rue Git-le-Coeur is Minutes To Go. In his editor’s note to Brion Gysin Let the Mice In, Jan Herman describes the Beat Hotel atmosphere as like a “laboratory,” and Minutes To Go is certainly the most representative result of those experiments in lifestyle and literary technique.

I want to focus on the community of bookstores involved with this cut-up collection. In fact independent bookstores made Minutes to Go a pubished reality. Minutes to Go was issued by Two Cities in 1000 copies on April 13, 1960. A limited edition of ten copies included a manuscript page. This reminds me of the limited edition for the C Press Time. I have never seen the limited Time or Minutes to Go for sale on the rare book market. The John Hay Library at Brown possesses a copy of the Minutes to Go and displayed it prominently at their Burroughs exhibition years ago.

Two Cities was a bilingual (French and English) magazine edited by Jean Fanchette, a young doctor. Fanchette published expats like Henry Miller, Alfred Perles, and Lawrence Durrell. The first issue was dedicated to Durrell. Years later, the correspondence between Fanchette and Durrell from this period would be published by Two Cities as well. Anaïs Nin was a correspondent for the magazine. With Gysin designing the covers, Fanchette fashioned Minutes to Go to mirror the magazine.”

“Minutes To Go” is a legendary text; a bible of avant-garde literary cut-up technique. Kathy Acker, J.G. Ballard, Lesego Rampolokeng, Paul Wessels, the list of writers influenced by this work could go on and on… Furthermore the book has exerted influence on a wide range of industrial culture outside of literature, most notably cinema (Peter Whitehead, Derek Jarman, Bruce Conner etc) and music (John Zorn, Throbbing Gristle, Einsturzende Neubauten, Henry Cow, etc). It would not be hyperbolic to describe the entire digital sampling culture of today as being prefigured in this Ur-text of experimentation.

Perhaps Stephen Gray is unaware of these trends and tendencies in the culture of the last fifty years? Then he shouldn’t be exposing his ignorance in the Mail & Guardian. He describes Sinclair Beiles as a “demented con man” but in fact it is Stephen Gray who is the con man, pretending to be a literary connoisseur whilst in fact writing well shy of the facts. Shameful

Aryan Kaganof
14 October 2009

ps. Sinclair Beiles was also the editor of William Burroughs’ “The Naked Lunch”, he organised a lot of the book into its published sequence, even re-typed many of the pages for Burroughs. This is information that can be found in various biographical resources and interviews with Burroughs. The imputation that Gray makes in his scabrous article, namely that Beiles invented, lied about, or exaggerated these facts, is simply disgusting.

the beauty of spoken word: raphael d’abdon interviewed by the guardian

Filed under: literature, poetry, raphael d'Abdon — ABRAXAS @ 6:55 pm

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October 13, 2009

Looking Back

Filed under: a.d. winans, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 11:04 pm

It took me a decade
After his death
Before I could write
A poem about him
It was as if a small part
Of him had entered my heart
And remained behind the
Barbed wire fence
He had constructed over the
Long years
Stayed there all this time
Building an invisible umbilical cord
Reaching out for an unseen
Love connection
Sending signals carried on the
Sealed lips of blackbirds circling
An invisible graveyard
Finding in death
What we had never known in life
Those ghostly white hands
Scratching upward from the grave
Desperately trying to cup the
Tiny flame flickering inside the
Valve of my heart

Editors Gary Cummiskey and Eva Kowalska in conversation with Janet van Eeden

Filed under: literature, poetry, dye hard press — ABRAXAS @ 10:40 pm

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Who Was Sinclair Beiles?

JvE: I found Who Was Sinclair Beiles? a fascinating read. It was so interesting to read about Sinclair Beiles, someone I didn’t know much about, from so many different perspectives. The interviews between Beiles and Gary Cummiskey and Beiles and dawie malan especially throw much light on the nature of the man himself. The essays by Cummiskey, malan, Earle Holmes, Alan Finlay, Eva Kowalska, George Dillon Slater and Fred de Vries serve to delve behind the man’s words and give us a glimpse into a unique character. I’d be grateful if you answered a few of my questions about this enigmatic man.

Beiles’ life is typical of the saying that “a prophet is without honour in his own country.” It is sad that a poet/playwright/writer who worked with iconic Beat poets of the sixties such as Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs and others has remained largely unknown in his own country. Why do you think Sinclair Beiles was not appreciated for who he was in South Africa?

EK: Beiles distanced himself, geographically and ideologically, from South Africa as it was when he first left the country. South African writing during apartheid was to a large extent ideologically loaded and politically driven, and Beiles removed himself and his work from that sort of literary “scene”. Beiles was idiosyncratic and tended towards the antagonistic, on both a personal and political level. Later on in his life he frequently commented, as he does in the interview with Earle Holmes, that he had little desire to “fit into” the South African writing community, an attitude which for some reason clouded popular appreciation of his work. Beiles did draw attention to himself in various ways, but his artistic outlook was not an applause-seeking one; he failed to engage the mainstream because it did not interest him. Possibly he would have wanted more recognition from his contemporaries, but although his writing was known to and highly regarded by a few local writers, for the most part such appreciation was not forthcoming.

GC: There are various reasons for this. Beiles spent almost three decades out of South Africa, coming back only occasionally, and finally returning to settle down only in the late 1970s, early 1980s. Apart from his first titles, the majority of his collections were published in limited editions by small and sometimes short-lived presses, and so it has been extremely difficult to have easy access to his work. His selection of poems, A South African Abroad, was published by Lapis Press in California in 1991, but even then a relatively small number of copies found their way to South Africa. Also, as Eva says, Beiles did not want to fit in, he did not want to be part of the South African literary scene. He wanted to distance himself from it, but at the same time he was also quite angry at being ignored.

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JvE: How did each of you come to hear about him? And what led you to work together on compiling this book of interviews and memoirs about him?

EK: I first came across Beiles while doing research on the American Beat writers. Beiles was part of the group living and writing at what became known as “the Beat Hotel” in Paris, so he is mentioned in literature about that era. I found the presence of a South African writer in such an important moment of Beat literature interesting, and so decided to study Beiles’s poetry for my MA thesis. In doing so I quickly realised how very little material there was about his work. There is basically nothing except for a few reviews of the less obscure titles. This was challenging in terms of my research. It is very exciting to have so fresh and unexplored a topic, but daunting to not have any perspective on Beiles’s writing to judge my own against.

The book was initially Gary’s project; when I heard about it I was very keen to contribute. I was doing all this research and writing about Beiles already, and saw this as a good opportunity to put that work to good use. When Gary asked me to co-edit Who Was Sinclair Beiles? I saw it as a chance to be involved in something really new and interesting - it is literally the first book about Beiles and his writing - and to produce something about that total lack of information and criticism around Beiles’s work.

GC: I first encountered Beiles’s name one night in Yeoville, in 1991. I was wandering down Rockey Street, and I was looking in the window of a bookstore there, and there was this clipping, a review of A South African Abroad that had appeared in Mail & Guardian. I read about Beiles, his link to the Beats, his friendship with Burroughs, and the “helter-skelter surrealism” of his poems, as I think the reviewer put it. I had been a great admirer of the Beats and the surrealists for years, since I was a teenager, and I was astonished that a South African writer had been in that scene.

I met Beiles at his house in Yeoville in 1994 and interviewed him, but the interview wasn’t published until last year, by the literary journal, New Coin. It was a short while after that I thought about putting such a book together. At first I was just going to use a handful of previously published pieces about Beiles, those by dawie malan and Alan Finlay, but that would not have been enough to create a bound book. And so the project expanded slightly. Eva came on board as co-editor, but for financial reasons I still kept a close eye on the size of the book.

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JvE: Could you please sum up the significance of Sinclair Beiles and his work for those who do not know of him at all?

EK: For me Beiles is essentially a Beat writer, and so his significance lies in broadening and enriching Beat literature, which tends, wrongly in my opinion, to be viewed as a “closed” sort of canon, limited to a historical period and a handful of American authors. When Beat literature emerged, when the Beats were writing their first texts, when Beiles was writing, the ideas and ideals they had in common were quite different from what has become the conventional understanding of “Beat”.

GC: Beiles was an outsider, and his work falls outside the mainstream. His voice is unusual for South African poetry. There are elements of surrealism in his work, but it is not orthodox or conventional surrealism, and if one regards Beiles as a Beat poet, then his work is also quite different from that of many of the US Beat poets. Even if the quality of his writing is uneven at times - and it is very uneven - that does not mean that his work should be ignored and deemed unworthy of serious consideration.

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JvE: It seems to me that when Beiles came back to South Africa he was past his best writing days. Do you agree? Do you think that if he’d received the credit and acclaim he was due in South Africa for his unorthodox and yet remarkable achievements in Europe, he would have continued to produce work of note?

EK: I would agree that Beiles’s best work was written in the 1970s before he returned to South Africa, but I don’t think that the reception he and his work got here would have changed what, or how, he wrote when he returned. Certainly critical acclaim, or a lack thereof, does not seem to have influenced his earlier, better writing.

GC: Well, my favourite collection is his first, Ashes of Experience, which was the first winner of the Ingrid Jonker poetry prize in 1969. But there is work from the 1970s that is also quite strong: Sacred Fix and Dowsings, for example. There are also some interesting pieces in 20 Poems, published in 1980, as well as in Khakiweeds, from 1994. I don’t think it is a simple matter of saying his best work was his earlier poetry, though certainly his last few titles, from about 1996 onwards, leave a lot to be desired. I don’t think recognition in South Africa would have made much of a difference. And besides, sometimes recognition has the exact opposite effect, and a writer churns out crap to gain mass market applause.

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JvE: What do you think his most impressive piece of work is, and why?

EK: Deliria, because of its absolute lack of concern for everything but the poet in the act of writing.

GC: Ashes of Experience. There is an intense energy in these poems, a sense of freedom and exploration.

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JvE: Sinclair Beiles suffered from mental illness of some sort. He attributed it to an experimental “art happening”, I suppose you’d call it today. Could you tell the readers more about this event which led to his mental instability?

EK: Beiles had bipolar disorder, an affective disorder characterised by periods of depression and mania. I really don’t think that the “happening” he participated in had anything to do with his mental illness.

GC: The incident of the happening, Space Flight by the Greek sculptor Takis, was one that Beiles himself spread around as the cause of his disorder. But I also doubt his role in the happening had anything to do with his condition. In the introduction to Sacred Fix, Beiles said that most of the works contained in the volume were written while he was under psychiatric care in London, but he could sometimes get quite angry when he found references to his being in psychiatric care. He once maintained he had never been mentally ill, but had simply gone into care on occasions for purposes of relaxation.

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JvE: Do you think this instability led to a decline in his work, or perhaps the opposite? People with bipolar disorder often have periods of extremely creative mania followed by periods of deep depression. Many famous writers, painters and poets suffer from this disorder. Two of them spring to mind: Vincent van Gogh and Stephen Fry. Do you know whether SB did most of his good writing during his manic periods? Or was he able to write when he was depressed?

EK: There is a commonly perceived linked between mental illness, particularly bipolar disorder, and creativity, though it has not really been proven. There is also a sort of “mythology” of the “mad poet”, which Beiles engaged and entertained. Some people, including writers and artists, who are bipolar, do feel that their manias and depressions bring a strong influence to bear on their creativity and productivity. Arguably, however, the increased amount of work produced during a manic phase might not be better than, or even as good as, work produced at other times. Also, having bipolar disorder does not mean that one is either manic or depressed all the time - these “episodes” can be years apart. I could not speculate on Beiles’s state of mind when he wrote, though his poetry reflects aspects of his mental illness.

GC: I agree with Eva. It is impossible to speculate what mood Beiles was in when writing this or that. But he always felt he was writing against time, before the next breakdown occurred, perhaps before the final collapse. In the poem “Terrible Dreams”, in Ashes of Experience, he writes: “All I can think of is writing as much as I can/ While a semblance of sanity and strength/ remains for me …”.

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Sinclair Beiles receveing a medallion from William Plomer for the first Ingrid Jonker Poetry Prize in 1969 for his first collection, Ashes of Experience.

JvE: SB was famous for not rewriting any work. He believed if you had to rewrite it then it wasn’t pure poetry, if I’m correct in interpreting what I’ve read about him. Do you think this is the reason that fellow poets looked down on him for not “crafting” a piece of work for weeks or months?

EK: This “first thought, best thought” philosophy is something of a Beat dictum. In their work it is a statement about form and technique, and the nature of poetry, and, as Beiles’s idea of “pure” poetry suggests, one he believed in and adhered to. It worked for him, although probably the concept of “not rewriting” shouldn’t be taken completely literally. Successive revisions of some of his plays are archived, for instance. All writers have their own techniques, methods and beliefs about writing. I doubt any one would seriously criticise another for their methodology, rather than the finished product.

GC: A criticism that some writers have made about Beiles was that he was unable to be selective about his work, to be self-critical in evaluation. For Beiles, it didn’t seem to matter whether what he was producing was good or bad, as long as he kept writing. Hence the very uneven quality of his work.

The “first thought, best thought” thing of the Beats is, as Eva says, not to be taken literally. Ginsberg’s work was carefully crafted; so was that of Jack Kerouac and Gregory Corso. Gary Snyder said in an interview that nobody really took “first thought, best thought” seriously, “but it was a challenge”. Even the “automatic writing” of the surrealists should not to be taken literally. Andre Breton’s poems were carefully crafted, as were Paul Eluard’s.

But Beiles is not alone in having work that is uneven. The complete works of the Russian poet Vladimir Mayakovsky totals 12 volumes, half of which are now dismissed even by his admirers as doggerel and propagandist hack work, though Mayakovsky himself had a high opinion of it.

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JvE: Could each of you give me a favourite poem or piece of SB’s writing and say why it means a lot to you?

EK: I like Sacred Fix, especially the “Selected Catastrophes” at the end, one of which reads as follows:

that summer
the children who had suffered so much
from the revenge of their parents
discovered in their extreme despair
that they were fire-worshippers
and everywhere in the city they threw off their clothes
and made fires of them
and chanted strange words
hitherto unuttered
and drawn up from the deep wells of their souls.
most of the buildings in the city were gutted
and with them many of the children.

GC : I like “Terrible Dreams” from Ashes of Experience. It was the first poem of his that I read and it says it all:

My condition is lamentable - to me anyway.
I keep a kind of old flying machine stability
On a cupboard full of drugs
And as I fly through the day
I can hear my nerves creaking.
I look over the side of the cockpit
And below I see the horrors of enemy territory
- the mental hospitals.
All I can think of is writing as much as I can
While a semblance of sanity and strengthen
remains for me,
I fear the fate of Artaud
Of Nietzsche
Of Nijinsky.
If some small magazine editor happens to
drop into your office
Or into your soup in the form of a fly when
You eat at
The arts laboratory
Perhaps you can pull out this work for his
consideration.
Tell him I have terrible dreams.

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JvE: Finally, what is the value of SB’s work? Does his work live on in any remarkable way? Did he have a message that future generations could take forward with them? Or was his message more in living his life on the edge rather than in his work?

EK: Some of Beiles’s work is very provocative, very nonconformist, perhaps counter-cultural. He engages the social, cultural and political in innovative ways. It seems a pity that his work should be forgotten before it has been fully discovered just because it is ascribed to a bygone era. Beiles’s satires, social commentaries and anti-establishment rants remain entertaining and relevant beyond their immediate context.

GC: One of the reasons we compiled the book came from the realisation that while many people know of Beiles himself, or at the very least know his name, few know of or have even read his work. And when they have heard of him, it is in connection with Burroughs and the Beat Hotel. It is as if after that period Beiles disappeared off the side of the earth, so we wanted to show that there was more to him than that, and particularly more to his work.

When I first met Beiles, I was very eager to hear about Burroughs, Ginsberg, and so on, as no doubt did just about every other wide-eyed visitor who pitched up at his door. Afterwards I wondered if he ever got annoyed at this, you know, people contacting him to find out about the others, and not so much about him. It was always Sinclair Beiles, “the guy who knew Burroughs”, yet how many people pitching up at his door were interested in his own work, of visiting Belies for the sake of his being Beiles?

Yet some critics feel Beiles used the names of the Beats as a drawcard in order to “market” himself in South Africa, in order to gain recognition for a body of work they regard as highly questionable. In a recent review of Who was Sinclair Beiles? in Mail & Guardian, Stephen Gray poses the question of whether Beiles was not simply a con artist, a failure and a wannabe who used the names of his well-known acquaintances to gain credibility.

For me, the answer lies not so much in Beiles the personality, but in his work. It is a matter of whether his work is of value, of whether he made a contribution to South African literature, and the answer to that lies in his poetry.

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JvE: Thanks to both of you for answering the questions above. Your insights into Sinclair Beiles’s life and works have inspired me to read more of the writings of a somewhat sad character. His contradiction in eschewing public opinion and yet bemoaning the fact that he never received recognition, is compelling too, and the perfect ingredient in creating a fascinating subject. Sinclair Beiles should be remembered not simply for his association with the Beat poets, but also for his eccentric life and his body of work. Well done to both of you for bringing him to our attention.

this interview first appeared on litnet

the guardian interviews natalia molebatsi

Filed under: literature, poetry, natalia molebatsi — ABRAXAS @ 8:27 pm

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October 12, 2009

natalia molebatsi and raphael d’abdon thrill abuja

Filed under: literature, poetry, natalia molebatsi, raphael d'Abdon — ABRAXAS @ 2:57 pm

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October 9, 2009

Going Home

Filed under: suchoon mo, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 8:27 am

Homage to Santoka

I danced with a girl
she had three legs and danced well
I was quite drunk then

when she goes to church
with the red shoes upon her head
a miracle will happen

she undresses
like an onion peeling itself
I have tears in my eyes

earth worms underground
are you happy there?

I spread my arms
she spreads her legs
martial art

saint valentine’s day
two sparrows are not mating

my mind is empty
my bladder is full

oh I am sorry
you were playing a tuba
I didn’t know

I can’t eat bacon
the soprano is screaming
like a dying pig

so many lights on the street
I lost my shadow

the undertaker
he dumped the deceased in the pit
took the casket home

a frog came to the door
it was a jehovah’s witness
reborn

in a dense fog
I drove past an abandoned house
it was my home

October 6, 2009

lefifi tladi: advice from a master

Filed under: 2005 - giant steps, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 7:20 pm

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October 2, 2009

what country is this?

Filed under: jimmy "wordsworth" rage, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 1:38 pm

when all this shit burns down,
and all the last liars eat the glass,
glue & plastic of their mirrors,
i’ll be right there with you—
we’ll want to laugh,
but will probably be
mute with pity.

October 1, 2009

Opera

Filed under: suchoon mo, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 1:08 pm

such a great opera
Don Jose killed Carmen
many times

a soprano in cold shower
is she singing
or screaming?

everyone is going to an opera
I am going to a funeral
everyone will be moved and touched
so shall I
everybody will be clapping hands
so shall I

you are allowed to yell
bravo!
in an opera house
because she died singing
but you are not allowed to yell
bravo!
in a funeral home
just because she died singing

when the soprano sings an aria
do not sing along
because
her voice will climb to the high C note
sooner or later
and you can only croak
like a frog

in this silent holy night
three drunkards sing
a song of silent holy night

in an empty theater
the stage is set
for a mute tragedy
of chorus singers
who are mute
on the stage

September 14, 2009

Secular:

Filed under: poetry, genna gardini — ABRAXAS @ 12:16 pm

My body splits like a fish.

I slipped these facts from my flesh and jerked their glands
out for sex

in the cinema of synapse.

Loss kept you locked, like a tampon. But, look,
so can my tongue.

I’ll pitch you loose from that collar, you’ll strip the clotting
off my gums.

We’ll wave the wombs we worked for arms, press our parts
against our parts,

have the same constant conversation between this crotch
and that heart

instead of talking what flight or movement could make.
I part my dandruff and say

we were the chaff of God’s thigh! When all I hurtle now’s a trunk.
Is this false and testing body.

September 13, 2009

I’m Getting Famous Sort Of by Peter Horn

Filed under: poetry — ABRAXAS @ 1:55 pm

my first poems are published
I am getting famous
sort of

I rehearse dignity
in front of a mirror
I receive visitors
young poets
present to me
their first attempts
I
say : not too bad

no need to do a lot of thinking
from now on success
breeds success in every case
I will say
I am for peace
(naturally, who is not?)
and against the government

soon they will present me
with prizes (academies, juries, professors)
and I will smile
the prescribed smile
what I say
will be reasonable
or appropriately angry
or soothingly shocking

it is time
somebody
kicked me
in the arse

(published in Walking Through Our Sleep and A century of South African Poetry)

September 12, 2009

: VOX CLAMANTIS IN DESERTO (the no-mix)

Filed under: jimmy "wordsworth" rage, poetry — ABRAXAS @ 12:19 pm

“All your goodies are gone…”

-George Clinton, ‘The Golden Goose,’ (1974).

Ten years(!), mon frere, since you be digging-out the waterline & bagging
the clay. Then, roosting in the A.C. in the trailer—dreaming of the those great tits
down by the sea?

Fucking tumbleweeds biting-at the headlights on that string of road.

Don’t smoke in the car.

Everybody’s armed.

Somebody didn’t scrub the oven.

The apocalypse never came; the compound remains.

Fourteen songs stillborn in the sun.

the psychotic bushman

September 10, 2009

gg allin - “why don’t i kill myself sooner?”

Filed under: music, poetry, philosophy — ABRAXAS @ 7:57 am




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