Poetry: Metro Times - Arts: Remembering Ron Allen with the poem

An article about my friend, poet, and playwright Ron Allen. The poem that I wrote for him and read at the African World Festival at his tribute is in the article- click the link

Metro Times - Arts: Remembering Ron Allen


On September 26, 2010   Sunday, from 1 p.m.- 4  p.m. at the Cass Cafe on Cass Avenue at Forest in Detroit, another poetry, music, and theatrical tribute will be had. Light snacks will be served, you may bring a potluck dish, and the bar will be open.


Here is the poem that was published. Some of the lines were edited out:
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From Inside the 6
For poet Ron Allen, 1947-2010
by Aurora Harris

I - August 8, 2010 8:24 a.m.
Outside looked summer hazy gray
Reading poem from 1999 poetry workshop
I said she is the snowstorm then
Eight twenty three three tones
I hear three electronic Buddhist tones
Three quick high pitched Buddhist tones
Eeeee eeeee eeeeee
A technological bell warning through ether
Through window into my left ear
Communication of the OneOne tone
I know what time it is
We know what time it is
We were talking about violence peace
The Up From City’s Devastation Here
Coq a vin in moderation man
With his toe-less dancing feet
Craving Temple Bar two-step heat
That you talking tones to me?
Everything you said you don’t want
Virgo to Virgo I’m handlin’ it
Just found list of Buddhist Temples
Just called Peter phone is ringing
Just called Peter it’s only 6
Even the text message is Buddhist
call buddhist temple for ron please
Buddhism - Wilshire Center & Los Angeles Area
I found list of numbers Ron
I’m throat singer saying it Ron

So you can be Laughing Buddah
Remember I told you about books
Books of dead titles not so?
Egyptians, Tibetans, titles have different meanings
Western words changes meanings and understanding
I will break the six now
It was all about ether
It is all about nonviolence
It was all about peace
It is all about peace

II - August 21-22, 2010 9:43 a.m.
Speak to me
Speak through rising chronic tears
Speak through velvet nights awakening sound
Gray, rainy morning haze
Polish my ears with shattering tropes
Speak into a semblance of light
Broken patterns of woven night sky
Speak to me
Speak through uninterrupted street words
Speak inherited heartbeats
Speak into the secret sauce of jazzy dreams
Spit shine planets with stone washed fingers leaking poems
Speak a stack of verbs walking surreal sky
Speak dialogues of twisted friction in frameworks of truth
Speak to me straight like a wall of ocean’s waves
Speak through genies in cactus needles
Rub a peyote trip out of penny in your pocket
Speak into rhythmic grinding of ego into bone dust
Speak a deluded soul into blue streaks of meditation
Taste molecules of your existences
Speak to me, brother
Float past graffiti rainbows talking backwards
Float past the Bhardo of Dharmata into pure Buddhahood
Float on the luminous path of the Wisdom of Discernment
Speak to me, Speak to me
Black birds gather on telephone wires for 11:00 a.m. morning music
Black birds’ bodies dotting the sky/ are simple notes / of this morning’s beauty
You appearing as 4/4 time/ treble clef 8th notes / F B D E with/ rests in between
You speaking vibrational bird song on electric currents of chatter
You speaking through memories of erratic streams
You who milked the nipple of being
You who blows through a thighbone trumpet
You who appears as a swarm of fireflies
Speak to me, brother Speak to me

Note: The Egyptian Book of the Dead is known as the "Spells of Coming (or Going) Forth By Day"
The Tibetan Book of the Dead is known as the "Bardo Thodol" ... a guide for the dead and dying.
Aurora Harris is a Detroit poet and educator who blogs at auroraharris.blogspot.com.