Excited for Saturday’s event. I’m fifth in order to read/perform a five minute set of four to five poems starting at 11:30AM PST https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/ccc?key=0AnzpHegfoo5LdHQtcWZnUkJhM0N2MWZlSVFMN1BiZlE&hl=en_US Will send streaming information when confirmed.
Colors
James Berkowitz
“Colors” was a poem written in 1999 on Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica just before I moved to Pacific Grove, CA. I had the guitar with me and started hearing music in my head while writing. This was the beginning of a new phase where I would apply guitar accompaniment to poetry.
This recording on “Word Beat” was the millennium show hosted by Jesse Rose Derooy. It is a short segment of a two hour interview and poetry reading/performance fusing songs and original poetry as well work inspired by others.
“Colors” was new and I rehearsed in my studio before heading to the radio station. This was the first time I was doing something like this and very excited to explore the fusion of poetry and instrument. This recording is raw with genuine warmth. I’m deeply grateful to my Emerson College alum Greg Weremey who thank goodness I sent a cassette recording of the show to archive digitally because I moved to NYC and survived horrific fire where all writings, the guitar, and everything accept myself were engulfed in flames. The cassette recording ended on side A and continued on side B as you can hear the edit at the end of the piece. Thanks for taking the time to check it out.
~James Berkowitz
©℗ 2011
And the colors show
while the ocean blue flows
into your tender heart
where love never parts
It’s beautiful
the green garden soothes
I love you
More than you want me to
I love you
So tell me now
where are the clowns
with the tears in their eyes
no hiding or disguise
It’s the moon in full
what we’re all going through
I love you
More than you want me to
I love you
The rainbow children glow
in sizzling summer night
down the water slide road
where we take delight
We learn a lesson from you
about the fake golden rules
Her honey blonde hair flows
into the azure sky
under the fire she glows
born in a statue sublime
She’s beautiful
her eyes bloom the world
I love you
The colors of life are in hue
The colors of life are you
James Berkowitz © 2011
Starting to prepare set lists as I will be reading THREE SETS Thursday night at the Venice Art Crawl. This reading will be done Beat/Street Theatre style: man, voice, diaphragm, some by memory, some read from paper, some with a dance, some with audience participation, if a passing musician comes by with an instrument there will be improvisation. Ringolevio meets Fellini’s “La Strada” and Leo Carax’s “Le Amants du Pont Neuf” with amazingly gifted and talented artists and art work from the Venice, CA locale.
Hello everyone,
I’ve received word from radio host Katerina Stoykova-Klemer of “Accents-A Radio Show for Literature, Art, and Culture that my work will be included on today’s show with the theme “Acceptance.”Thank you very much for listening.
Time: 2PM EST(Eastern Standard Time) USA
Station: WRFL 88.1 FM Lexington, Kentucky streaming @ wrfl.fm
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Accents-a-Radio-Show-for-Literature-Art-and-Culture/46849198530
In honor of woman
On trial in America
to withstand a religious blitz
for her choice to be
as life deems fit
The scaffolding of her physique
evolved through her history of development
is now being walked upon
by the evangelical plank of her government
I cry silent tears for the sacrificial years
that you’ve been granted the right to choose
For now
the dark cloud of amnesia
that pervades this great country
will rain the religious belief of one sect
Please know that my unconditional love for you
whether you’ve embraced or rejected me reigns superior
For I love you woman
I’ve danced with your many shapes forms colors and sizes
Our electric footsteps will forever continue
to move light across the dance halls of the Mother Earth
with gentle turns of sweet honey divine
that honor your right to birth
Feel the inner strength of your goddess energy
and let your voices be heard
For you are woman
I love
in honor of the world
Come
let us celebrate your creation
with great honor and respect
For without you dear woman
the male decision makers would not exist
Their lapse of memory for the womb they’ve traveled
has been convoluted with indoctrination
Forgive them……………………
For their eyes have been closed to other paths
They have forgotten how to love you
because they’ve forgotten how to love themselves
I love you woman
I love you very much
I honor you woman
with infinite love and great trust
James Berkowitz © 2010
Rewritten and edited from previously published version in
Downtown LA Art Life Magazine May 1, 2006
I saw a statue of truth in your eyes.
The kennel cage that was set between us, were our last moments together. It took nine months of leaving you food and water to gain your trust. Your knife scarred body and travel worn paws decided to be friends.
Revealing a canine smile you joyfully howled to the sounds of my harmonica playing. We shared a bed during the winter months as your thin black lab coat found warmth within the blanket against my feet.
We ran through the woods and long grass. Natural instincts told you to pick up sticks, chase rabbits, and all things that allured and stimulated the senses.
As I matured and spent time in school, college, and other places you still embraced me with a loyal heart when we would see each other.
I watched your beard turn gray. And with age you would still crawl onto my lap for love and attention, a precious gift of four-legged life aging with grace and beauty.
Then the cataracts came and blurred your vision and judgment. The car that hit you never stopped. I heard your painful cries and picked you up off the blood stained street holding you to my beating chest and aching heart then drove you to the vet.
I saw a statue of truth in your eyes and knew it was time to say goodbye.
James Berkowitz © 2010
“The poetry of the earth is never dead:
when all birds are faint with hot sun,
and hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
from hedge to hedge about the new mown mead.”
John Keats (1795-1821)
From “The Grasshopper and The Cricket” 1816
She came to me in my bed
her voice echoed wall to wall
in a sweet and love drenched whisper
as a rushing current of flowing hair
passed by the window of her reflection
sending a scent of blossoming flowers
that permeated the room with a gentle mist
I saw her
with eyes wide opened and eyes sealed shut
her visit would last different lengths of time
but she was always there
The pen of my heart is my intuitive guide
I will wait for you my darling
for the nectar of your loving presence
I will wait for you my darling
I will wait
James Berkowitz © 2010
For what does it take to reach out to a friend?
A caring voice
The written or typewritten word
An embrace that transcends
All elements of time
Lifting the spirit into a glowing smile
We are fragile as flower petals blown from the strength of a tree
The butterflies that float majestically through the air we breathe
Thinking of you sends a radiant light beam unseen to the human eye but felt in the beating heart
And that thought will be felt throughout your entire being
With honor
With Friendship
With love
James Berkowitz © 2010
Inspired by previously written poem “Birthday Eloquence” published in “Canteen Trumpets At Noon” © 1997
One language called harmony
transcended the borders of native speaking tongues
and carried a melodious tune around the globe
One heart pulsed harmony
carrying a beat in life long rhythm
transcending the drum of the soul
One language called harmony
Harmony called a language of one
A language of one
A language of the heart
The heart of a language called one
James Berkowitz © 2010
Inspired and rewritten from previous poem “Over Joyed” published in “Canteen Trumpets At Noon” © 1997
A new book opened after a painful care taking journey,
releasing misery from the heart and burning paperwork from the past.
The loft space with a moon roof looked upon the sea.
Seagulls cried songs that echoed throughout the shoreline.
This sea of joy sent messages with each embracing wave.
My writer’s pen slowly lifted from deep depression creating words on the journal page.
Windows opened wide, as an aromatic sea salt spray filled the room with a gentle mist.
Oh sea of joy, I love you so, enlighten us with your powerful flow
for the time is now, in each heartbeat, to honor the gift of life
with reason to believe.
James Berkowitz © 2010
Inspired in this moment by previously written poem “Sea of Joy” in “Canteen Trumpets At Noon” published in 1997.
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