BIOGRAPHY
Bob Holman was born at high noon on the quite balmy spring
day of March 10, 1948, in the quaint (the baseball field
was covered with four-leaf clover) Southern town of LaFollette,
Tennessee. He's not dead yet.
He's considered as one of the most active poets from the
United States, where he is known as 'King of New York'.
He has written numerous books. He toured many times through
Europe: he performend at the Crossing Border Festival
in The Hague and in the famous Vera Club in Groningen
(both in 1998), as well at the London LIPS
Festival in 2001.
Even though he wears a hat, this doesn't mean he's bald.
In fact, he's not.
Study also
www.google.com for more about Bob Holman.
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DAVID
AMRAM PRAISE POEM BIRTHDAY #70 KNITTING FACTORY
PARTY
Back in 1957 I was a French horn and little did I
know Id end up being blown by my Man Amram in
the first ever conjoining of poetry and jazz except
of course for those
Other times when lips couldnt be stripped off
frozen in the heat passion of connections
The way the Kora does it in Africa when they all Praise
that Guy hes the one the Selfless one he is
so full de music don stop at all it is a way of seeing
the way of his neck Fetish rattling making rhythm
as he walks nods nonstop the words that roll like
a piano Roll I mean once there was just him the Amram
who he am and then there was Kerouac Did I mention
next a whole gang of ems humans all or at least they
looked that way
On the outside on the inside another story they are
we are sure like Thelonious Sphere They are all a
bunch of aliens artists all aliens and Beings of Otherness
donchaknow but Also mention Lord Buckley Lenny Bruce
Ginsberg and Corso various Beats and Losers Sore and
otherwise winners I doubt it but givers great givers
and maniacs and race car Drivers without race cars
of course but there was still this goddamn piano I
mentioned
I was trying to tell you tell you about piano and
poem stick to the piano it was the Piano that was
rolling the way that Amram the Manram by the damn
dam I mean Maybe the poem will stop long enough for
David Amram to hear his own name like a Rest a spacer
between notes not leave room for but its the
way he is his outgoing on Going way making it happen
on a roll the collaboration of the lungs with the
air get it Why sure it was rilling down the trill
and rolling down the hill with a huge pail a pail
That pales by all comparison horizon X cannot hold
Mr. Amram a message on the piano Roll the holes of
the rolls they are out of control and they are flying
so fast that the cool Words work overtime underdone
The Land of Lingo Lango where you Once begun Upon
an Amram where the Praise Poem solidifies so you can
wear it round your neck And the musician gave birth
to the poet no its the other way round they
were green And they were blue and they were sort of
cannot tell what hue because it seems so
Dark where they live and they got the light that goes
on from the inside and the music Did I mention it
was a song they were playing but it was the words
that were the Melody and the story they were telling
it was a story without words a story that makes
Itself up as it rolls everybody push it everybody
roll the piano down to the man at the Bottom who is
that man at the bottom of the hill yak yakking could
it be it couldnt be it Is the leading figure
of this Praise Poem -- Amram David Mr.! -- and suddenly
piano Crashes into a million notes symphonies
compose as he dances them into place and Hes
singing gravel and snort barks no hes listening
that is us were singing song Praise praises
Amram love gift praise more birthdays to give it all
Amramwise all Praise to sound of music the taste of
the feel sight smell of music that makes itself up
Walking music the piano rolling rocks but not to sleep
rock me to wake the rock the
All together now birthday clock never was before the
French horn tasted lip and what We can say is poem
all that is the name the sound luscious musicality
the life song of David Amram which is name of rolling
piano poet bard of musical art David Amram
All Praise Poem David Amram Birthday Numero Seventy
11/12/00 Knitting Factory
© Bob
Holman, 2000
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