women | The Poesie of Igor Goldkind – Reciting Truth to Power

My Alley Cat

My Alley Cat

I didn’t get her name.
It was a hot and wet Saturday night;
So I left the screen door wide open
Hoping for a change in the weather.

She strolled in like the queen of Sheeba riding a breeze.
Her inspection was on schedule.
She allowed me to imagine that it was my company she was after.
Earnestly engaging my eyes with her face.

Which she put close to mine and stared into my eyes.
As if she were the only soul left on earth who still loved me.
All the while she scanned the kitchen floor out of the corner of her feline eye,
I became fascinated by her calm, steady gaze.

Once having assessed my meagre, modest, means
She walked straight back out the door she had walked through.
And out of my life again.
Leaving me to gaze at the space she had deliberately left behind.

July 27, 2018 | Categories: beat, new poetry, sex | Tags: blues, cat pics, Self, sex, women | 1 Comment

IS SHE AVAILABLE? Get My Book and FIND OUT.

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This is a web-nurtured collaboration with 27 artists, sculptors and musicians from the world of Comics, Fantasy, Fine Art and Jazz, including Bill Sienkiewicz, David Lloyd, Liam Sharp, Glenn Fabry, Shaky Kane, Lars Henkel and the cutting edge sculptural typography of the highly acclaimed book designer Rian Hughes.

This illuminated book is a contemporary Dante’s Divine Comedy; a journey through the confessional landscape of a masculine identity. It uses poetry to construct a narrative that explores themes of death and loss, sex and love, and the modern American and Jewish identity design: by the UK’s eminent graphic designer, typographer, illustrator Rian Hughes.

The music is composed and produced by iconoclast, ex-Israeli, Middle-Eastern jazz virtuoso Gilad Atzmon, along with five other jazz artists.

Written by San Diego native Igor Goldkind, this illuminated book will revolutionize the way you view poetry by meshing comics, art, music and animation in a truly unique way. It uses poetry to construct a narrative that explores themes of death and loss, sex and love, and the modern American and Jewish identity. The book is available for download on the iTunes Store and Google Play, as well as in a 166 page, fully illustrated in colour hardbound edition available ORDER HERE.

The eBook edition pushes the edge of what is possible with present EPUB3 technology. It is not an App, it is a true book that marries pop art, comics, avant-garde, jazz, spoken word poetry, video and animations, and type design in a manner that we have not seen before IS SHE AVAILABLE? has the feel of an artefact from the near future – a seminal work of a new genre-fusing poetry, graphic art, music, and animation.

Sample interior pages:

IS SHE AVAILABLE? RRP is $34.95, SHIPPING INCLUDED
Educational Discount for Students and Teachers: $29.95

Both deluxe hardcover edition PLUS animated and musically scored eBook App edition of Is She Available? bundle: $39.95

Go to http://Paypal.com/issheavailable/ and place your order directly through PayPal with all Pay Pal assurances and protection.

Shipping included in orders within the US and its territories.

If you are in Britain and/or Europe, please contact my European wholesaler Fanfare Productions who will take your order and dispatch to your address the same day: stephen@fanfareuk.demon.co.uk

Advance Review pdf of IS SHE AVAILABLE_Page_35

Reviews ? Sure We Got Reviews. Why You Wanna See Them? Be my guest.

“Igor’s “Illuminated Book” is like a new genre. It is a wonderful ekphrastic expression; a fusion of the arts.” — Poet Mel Takahara

“His collection Is She Available? has the feel of an artefact from the near future – a seminal work of a new genre-fusing poetry, graphic art, music, and animation.” —(San Diego’s) City Beat

“Is SHE Available?” is an experiment, and reading it feels more like an act of discovery… nonetheless there’s a thrill to scrolling through its pages. It’s an ambitious step toward what digital media can (and will) be.”—The Chicago Tribune

You Tube samples: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRnmT_aE0acoowdNBvFtK_VW2OkNN2wWp

SoundCloud samples : https://soundcloud.com/igor-goldkind/sets/is-she-available-spoken-word

The 166 full colour, fully illustrated hard cover deluxe edition is available in discerning and eclectic independent bookstores everywhere. Including Fahrenheit 451 in Carlsbad, Soulscape Bookstore in Encinitas, the Upstart Crow in San Diego, Verbatim Books and Mysterious Galaxy also in San Diego, City Lights and the Cooperfields chain in Marin County and Sonoma County, amongst a growing number of independent book stores.

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October 6, 2017 | Categories: Americana, anarchy, animation, art, beat, Bill Sienkiewicz, book launch, books, comics, David Halliwell, death, Depression, digital insurgency, Emptyness, epublishing, Existentialism, Gilad Atzmon, graphic novels, Igor Goldkind, Illustrated books, jazz, Latino Art, literature, margarita zuniga, Mario Torero, Meditations, mental health, Mindfulness, new poetry, poetry, Poetry as therapy, politics, Self-Therapy, spoken word, story-telling, Transmedia, Transmedia. multimedia, world jazz music | Tags: art, books, death, Graphic Novels, horror, literature, love, Meaning, New Poetry, poetry, Time, Truth, women, Zen | Leave a comment

The Women Inside of Me Are Always Available to Me

Had a good night last night drinking cask barrel wine with Anneke Doty at Solterra Wine Bar in Leucadia, California. We were trying to recall how and when we knew each other 40 years ago at John J Pershing Junior High. We knew all of the same people, some still alive and obviously were on the same general childhood network but for the life of me, I can’t recall any specific interaction with her.

Is that because I didn’t pay much attention to girls in junior high?

Am I gay?

Who knows? Better late than never, I suppose.

Passion is always a matter of imperfect timing.

I’ve always preferred the company of women, on a spectrum quantum levels from physical to mental. I don’t really think that I’m gay (not like there’s anything wrong with that!), because I’ve never appreciated the scent of a man the way a woman might. Instead, I’m stuck in a blind Al Pacino movie.

Nonetheless, Anneke Doty does seem familiar to me as if we’d been friends for years. I think rather than having a submerged feminine nature, my feminine characteristics have alway been in the foreground, especially around other women. Don’t get me wrong, women can be just as troublesome as men but usually in a slightly kinder way.

I am nurturing in the sense that I get a kick out of helping my friends, or even those I don’t know, sometimes just with honest conversation.

I’ve always appreciated the aesthetic of something even before knowing what it was for.

I love to cook and serve a superb meal to the people that I love.

I suppose this is the way I’ve always expressed love to others, alongside my sardonic sarcasms.

I like plants and flowers and those things that grow, peak and then die.

Like me.

Perhaps it is decay and entropy that universalizes us all with common purposelessness.

For what else could this absurdist’s moment be but the peak of experience; the very pinnacle of existence? The infinite in a nutshell in an easy to swallow form.

Never bought into the notion of degrading a man by calling him a woman, even when I was young and being overlooked for sports team choices. To me being called a woman meant being called someone who could birth to a man. And endure the pain of doing so.

What could be more worthy of aspiration?

My feminine side has always been front and center, especially in interaction with other women. It just seems like the human place to go is female. Women define the best of humanity in my mind.

If aliens landed here they’d really only want to talk to our women; don’t you think?

My uncle used to cast bronzes of mountainous women holding a small child to her breast. A universal archetype and the symbol of our species nurturing the relationship to our Earth.

We are merely our planet’s child, no better, no worse than any offspring.

I miss my mother; she taught me so much about the divine experience of our senses reflected in the colours and sounds that curl over us like a crashing wave. I guess I’ll have to cling to her planet, the one she taught me to love, for just a little while longer. All I need is one breast bloated with milk to keep me subsisting . . .

Long enough to see the most beautiful fount of my being reach the sky above me.

goodnight.