Ariadne’s Notes: An exciting evening with a surprize host! Unfortunately we had phone connection trouble with Mrlei and were not able to hear him at times. Neall wrote a birthday poem in his honour and Anita called out ” Happy Birthday” in Tagalog. Music by Andy Vine. Our second feature was Dr. Diego Bastianutti who shared his upcoming book launch with us. World Poetry Café Radio Show: mrlei: 9:10 9:20 pm CLICK HERE!
Leigh Nelson the writer of Gandhi’s Lament has been writing and performing poetry and music since the age of 14. Hailing from South County in the Berkshire Hills of Western Massachusetts, he is known simply as mrlei (as in mister lee), a name bestowed upon him in the early 80’s by students of his. mrlei has still yet to publish any of his works, but plans on using the slowdown of winter months to complete the process and get it to press. At the same time, he is attempting to complete two plays, one called “Einstein’s Violin” and a one-man show of Walt Whitman. He hopes that his poetry “will inspire people to awaken to their true selves and discover the voice that dwells within all being.”
“My mother was an English teacher (and model/actress) in the late 50’s thru to the early 70’s, so of course it was read read read (albeit TV was also very much our babysitter at times — but never before homework!) By the fourth grade I was reading on a junior-to-high school level and also accompanied my mother to rehearsals for plays she was in and became the one child of three boys who became engrossed with the artistic “process” (really don’t like that word). I dabbled in the theatre/tv/radio/film industry for a time and lost interest for a variety of reasons. But that experience helped me to become a powerful speaker and presenter of ideas (my own and others) and I have continued working in the artistic milieus.”
18jul08 kwatz!
one eternity (18) the seventh month is july (3+4) fool magician writes (08
he sat on a stool and spoke evocatively of love truth beauty freedom
the absolute of all
as if he’d just come from the riverbank with jesus or buddha or don juan matus
and the glow of understanding was the law of the universe
knowing he was the law of the universe and that the wheel of time is only an illusion for those trapped in the fixation of planning wisely for the future
and he gently reminded them that it was only here now that mattered for the moment
that was all it was — a moment and then another to another and another
each of us coming to meet up with another
and express the joy of living and
knowing the other no before and no after
endless universes… all carrying the law
written in invisible ink on a star-coated sky
he ended his poem with a goodbye of sorts
slipped them back into his canvas bag
amidst a polite slapping of palms
but also always knowing that someone had heard…
some had actually listened and taken the words to heart
and then he slipped out into the night disappeared
like a coy dog dark at the edge of the woods
or a carny packin the last railcar a wandering minstrel suddenly out of breath
a thief of restless and misguided dreams dipping silently out the back door
back to the path and all the others
who do not yet know they are still, always, now, and forever indeed
free
mrlei richmond, ma (C)
