Although I met Rene only a few years ago — when John Solt and I presented a poetry project at the Kerouac Centennial at Ruigoord — I felt immediately as if we had been friends for many years. His warmth made being his friend so easy, as did our shared passion for books, literature, and the countercultural characters we both of us knew and admired. Rene’s humility belied his vast literary knowledge and his brilliance. And he was such a “mensch”— a good soul, in Yiddish – who exuded kindness and compassion.
Ian Macfadyen wrote of the “glimmer in Rene’s eyes,” that ever-present playful twinkle of his. Rene was always ready to have fun. And he loved sharing the contents of his amazing archives of books, photos, and cassette tapes, taking an almost childlike glee in doing so.
Rene was so easy to love and didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He often told me he loved my writing, which was music to my ears, as I had always had literary aspirations but had stopped writing for almost half my life after becoming an immigration lawyer. Rene and his longtime partner, Erik Sluijter of Casioli Press, published pieces I had written about Gregory Corso, Lionel Ziprin, Herbert Huncke, and Ira Cohen, as well as a little sea ditty, “Don’t Step Lively, Lads.” By publishing my work, Rene and Erik gave me the confidence to call myself a writer and believe it was so. And, for that, I will forever be grateful.
Last month, I spent nine days in Den Haag and visited with Rene for a few hours each day, during which time he told me much about his full and interesting life, and how he regretted not being able to complete the projects he had planned. His mind was clear, as was his conversation. I will always cherish those hours we spent together. He told me how grateful he was to me for traveling to Den Haag and spending time with him. We expressed the love we felt for each other, and that was very sweet.
I was able to spend his 75th birthday with him, along with his wonderful wife, Sylvia, their daughter, Femke, her husband and children, and a few other friends. The love we all felt for Rene, and his for us, was almost palpable. “To know him is to love him” is an oft-used saying, but it is altogether appropriate in the case of Rene.
In one of our last conversations, he told me that, a few years before, after he, Hans Plomp, and I had spent a joyful afternoon together, Hans had referred to the three of us as “The Three Musketeers,” and I had felt happy and proud to be part of such an esteemed group. Now, I am saddened to be the only remaining “musketeer.” That same afternoon, when Hans had boarded a tram, and, with our faces pressed against the glass, he and I had made strange, goofy faces at each other. And Rene was saying to me quietly — about the dying Hans — “Look at him, Bobby. You may never see him again.”
Now it’s the same with you, dear Rene. There’s a hole in the world without you. I prefer to think of you now with Hans, Simon Vinkenoog, Ira Cohen, and all our celestial friends, making merry with the other angels. Bless you, dear friend. And thank you for enriching my life the way you did.
Masterfully edited by Todd Swindell, I Am Going to Fly Through Glass offers a brilliant introduction to the work of one of the twentieth-century’s foremost poets, designated by William Carlos Williams as “the best poet of [his] generation.”
Harold Norse tumbles out of time and lands on the page once again, a dancing beast, bastard angel, and carnivorous saint, all self-descriptions. He was a poet of extraordinary energy, a master of mindfulness and imaginative power. For those of us fortunate to spend time with Harold, the light sparkled. In conversation we could be on the cobblestones of Paris, the grid of streets that is Manhattan Island, the twisting paths of the island of Hydra in Greece’s Saronic Gulf on the Aegean Sea, or in San Francisco’s Cafe Trieste, where the poet held court in the early 1970s, halcyon days when City Lights Press published his now classic Hotel Nirvana in the Pocket Poets Series edited by Lawrence Ferlinghetti.
Harold would be bundled in wraps, no matter the weather, always with a cappuccino or espresso before him. In those days, he’d rattle off Italian to Yolanda, the sister of the cafe’s owner, Gianni Giotto. It was obvious that Harold had the hand gestures down as well as the language, and many a visitor from Rome or Milan found a willing ear in the dancing beast, who was sure to tell them he had translated the wild and raucous sonnets of G. G. Belli, the 19th-century poet. The cafe was captured in the now classic “At the Trieste,” a poem that begins with Norse’s description of reading Virgil’s Eclogues, and ends in a corner cafe. –Neeli Cherkovski
ISBN: 9781584981107 Publisher: Talisman House Publication Date: 2014 Format: Paperback Pages: 179 Language: English
Photo by Allen Ginsberg, 1988
Buy I Am Going to Fly Through Glass for $22. This price includes postage within the United States. Order with the Buy Now button.
The poems in this book make up Gianni Menichetti’s complete poetic works in English, many of which he originally presented in small chapbook editions printed in Italy.
King of a No-Man’s Land is the first collection of his English language poems to be gathered in a single volume.
John Wisniewski interviews Robert Yarra for CHIRON reviews spring edition:
JOHN: When did you begin writing, and what inspires you?
ROBERT: Books have always been my passion, and most of my heroes were writers. I started writing in Miss Fontana’s 4th grade class – then stopped for half my life when I became an immigration attorney – before taking it up again after selling my law practice.
I write stories from my life, mostly about the extraordinary people I’ve known, as well as the wacky and wonderful adventures and misadventures I’ve had, which are the inspiration for my writing.
— Life, Literature, & Luminaries: An Interview with Robert Yarra, Founder of the Golda Foundation in CHIRON review, issue #140, spring 2026
This review was previously published in Otoliths and is posted here courtesy of Louise Landes Levi.
Independent publishing is an increasing rarity in the corporate dimension in which we are, by the merciless law of the state & the state of affairs in the new millennium, compelled to live and hopefully, despite obstacles, to evolve. Shivastan Press, w. books printed in Katmandu, Nepal & distributed fr. Woodstock, NY, is the rare exception, printing handcrafted finely-illustrated chapbooks by some of the finest poets of our times, both those known & those lesser known.
Ira Cohen has an international reputation as film maker, photographer, story teller & eclectic poet. The treasury of images & the symbolic correspondences to which his mind seems so particularly adapted have found their way into esoteric collections around the globe, but if one is not in the privileged situation of being his friend, his work is not that easy to access. Large collections of his photography are now being published, one, albeit in Germany, Up Close & Personal (Papageien Verlag); but, regrettably, no inclusive collection of his poetry is as yet forthcoming. Each of his chapbooks thus offers a rare glimpse of the poet’s mind, his dedication to the muse & his insight into the mysteries exceeding her.
Whatever You Say May Be Held Against You, handwritten on Nepalese rice paper, is illustrated w. the author’s portrait of Allen Midgette, “the last of the moccasins” (to whom the book is dedicated), several of the poet’s own collages in black & white & a portrait of the poet by Marco Bakker handsomely printed on the black back cover of the rice paper book.
The poems span a broad time cycle, beginning w. Cohen’s seminal work in Katmandu fr. the mid to late seventies, where he also fathered Bardo Matrix Press, in some ways the predecessor to Shivastan, the one in which his work is now represented.
fr. Himalayan Journey
After 15 days/ walking in the Himalayas/we arrive at a strange place (Seta Gompa)/ at nightfall/ my head is empty of all thought/ as I enter the Lama’s room/ filled with great cauldrons/ & charred pots,/ golden ochres,/ Rembrandt browns/ the wood of demon masks/ gleaming under layers of/ smoke & butter/ Outside as the light breaks/ clouds above & below/ like a domed ceiling/ painted by Tiepolo.
Later & more recent poems concern the national & international crisis of 9/ll—(Cohen’s girlfriend is visiting & dreams about the catastrophe the night before it occurs.)
fr. Today’s Headline (May 20 2002)
There’s a sucker born every minute/ is the credo of capitalism/The Age of Reason has come/ & gone/ with the wigs of/ authority & self interest/ It’s not them, it’s US
& the general artistic milieu of NYC, or what’s left of it, when Cohen returns to his mother’s apartment on 106th & Broadway after years of world travel
fr. A Concert of Evening Ragas, in memoriam Pandit Pran
The discovery of poetry as an art of swimming/lucid breath in transparent water/ ...No fear of drowning/ in this ocean of sound.
Many of Cohen’s closest associates—Sheldon Rochlin, Vali & of course Angus MacLise—are given complex & sweet farewell by the poet who eulogizes them. At the same time, he prepares his own mind, w. a warmth that exceeds conjecture, for the inevitable.
fr. Creeley’s Poem
by the time you figure this, that will overtake you/ archaic wonders, my ass, it’s the last inning. Time for some heroics/ Fame is faint in the mirror/ the man in black is my affinity.
Cohen has escaped category & has reason to both rue & celebrate his isolation. I was happy to see a generous selection of his poetry included in Chris Felver’s BEAT & recommend Whatever You Say to those unfamiliar with his work & also, of course, to those who have read his other recent chapbook, Chaos & Glory ( Elik Press). His aggressive script on delicate lokta rice paper will add an additional level of intimacy to the contemplation of his multi cultural & luminous poetic inquiry.
fr. Lost Words
It is the eye of the spirit which opens under water/when you seek you will not find me./ I am already here.
Whatever You Say is a collector’s item.
Shivastan has also published Laynie Browne’s evocation of the perennial philosophy, Original Presence, as part of its wide reaching publication &, in some cases, republication of esoteric works in the context of the late 20th century & the early millennium. Many of its authors—Anne Waldman, Peter Lamborn Wilson, Janine Pommy Vega—spent decades studying & traveling in the Far East, The Middle East & Asia in efforts to comprehend the roots of disaster in the occidental worlds & to first hand, absorb the last traces of the wisdom cultures of the East, even those threatened by consuming winds.
Laynie Browne & her contemporaries, Juliana Spahr, Lee Ann Brown et.al., born in the generation following the above-mentioned, did not take to the road, but stood firm, in their endeavors to create a post-beat sensibility & a new voice with which the greater Feminine might express itself. A generation of women writers emerged in America, 1985 & onward, for whom the Beat generation was NOT a major reference but whose model of collaboration & mutual sustenance nevertheless informed it.
In Original Presence, Laynie travels inward. The book is dedicated to Avram Davis, & the Cabalistic axis upon which the poetic intonation is turning & to which it is tuned is unmistakable. The book is again printed on rice paper & is illustrated w. surreal & poignantly detailed collage by Toni Simon, an illustrator of other works by Brown, Web of Argiope (Phylum Press) & Pollen Memory (Tender Buttons).
Toni Simon: Girls’ Faces
Original Presence is divided into 3 parts: The Girl of Salt, A Quiet Flame & Sudden Inscription. Laynie’s exquisite line, her ability to condense her voice into near crystalline essence is evident through out.
I went to see the girl of salt/ She gave herself to water-/She gave herself to question/ She was nowhere apparent & yet I went to her
Laynie defines, redefines & undefines her search.
The salt girl can reconstitute hersellf and leave the sea/ girl of wax/ girl of paper/ not the watcher/ but the center…
Brown makes indirect reference to hermetic teachings & their language systems but does not depart fr the stylistic innovations that qualify the aesthetic formulations of the century she inhabits. The tensions between the urgency of her meditation, the maintenance of her personal linguistic & the richness of the metaphor she inherits formulate the matrix & mysterious lucidity of this text.
Quiet Flame introduces substance to the seeker’s domain
the candle alone shines of itself and for itself/ practice of the maiden’s chamber/wherever the line is the sand
whereas in Sudden Inscription
Nevertheless, my closed eyelids are encoded with breathing letters/Do you say then language is a garb? A cloth with which to cover the raw head of vowels?
the author reclaims her autonomy.
You write upon my hand as if to say/ Come goblet, come fixture of mind/ Remember the liquid cunning of the sky/Return to my uniform of hands/ pressed upon you/ allowing you to stand.
One reads this book in acrobatic suspension,. sustained in a visionary apparatus, that like all true poetry, is nevertheless tuned to the fundamental of the human harmonic & to its form.
Brown is a master of the postmodern school & sensibility. Those who have followed her work—Rebecca Letters (Kelsey Str.), The Agency of Wind (avec) & Gravity’s Mirror (Primitive Press) et.al.—understand this. In Original Presence we are introduced to an esoteric journey. Brown crosses the divide bringing her study of ancient text to intimate contemporary presence.
Toni Simon: Octopus Woman
Typed script & surreal image, printed on the blankness—at times almost textual—of the rice paper page, bring a third element to the visual field, at times dissolving it completely.
Louise Landes Levi’sThe Deep Diamond, portions of which were included in issue two of Otoliths, is forthcoming as a Shivastan broadside.
Shivastan Press books are craftprinted in limited editons of 333 copies in Kathmandu, Nepal, & are distributed by the publisher, Shiv Mirabito, 54 Tinker Street, Woodstock, NY 12498.
A selection of Ira Cohen’s poetry, On Feet of Gold (poems 1968-87), was reprinted in connection w. a photography retrospective at the OCTOBER GALLERY, London, Nov. 2007 – Feb. 2008, & can be ordered on line from the publisher, Synergetic Press.
Laynie Browne´s latest book is Daily Sonnets, published by Counterpath Press, Denver.
In Where I Stand in Angel, “Louise Landes Levi is ‘on the road.’ Nomadic & hermetic, exiled and initiated, she reveals both uninvited encounter & encounter with the marvelous through the poetics of collage, the cut-up of perceptual process.
Mostly untitled, the poems narrate dissociation but also pleasure, poetry as practice, as purification, itself a vehicle for the re-emergent feminine. (…)”
Vision and Duende in LLL’s Angel
Louise Landes Levi’s Where I Stand in Angel (Coolgrove, 2024) announces itself, in its materiality, as a book of color, vision, and risk. Tadanori Yokoo’s front-cover collage triangulates Jindřich Štyrský’s dark eroticism in Emilie Comes to Me in a Dream with Hindu iconography and Aleister Crowley’s Seal of Babalon. I read Yokoo’s image as doing less to illustrate Louise’s poems than to map a charged field where method, eros, and danger converge. Once seduced into that triple limen, reading Louise comes not as interpretive but participatory.
The title Where I Stand in Angel is itself an out-loud declaration. This book belongs to the same lineage as Allen Ginsberg’s “Kaddish,” where the poet stands at the grave, eye buried, voice calling into Sheol. Like Ginsberg’s cawing cries and black-clouded Eye, Levi’s visions do not console so much as demand presence. The Underworld—announced on the back cover by Yokoo’s collage title, “You Will Definitely Go to Hell” (君も必ず地獄に行く)—appears here less as threat than as passage. A descent that renders knowledge concrete rather than abstract.
These poems insist on juxtaposition for method and exposure for insight. They also invite speculative reversals: What if the collagist were not Štyrský but Emilie herself? What if Kaddish were written from Naomi’s position rather than Allen’s? What if the Scarlet Woman, rather than Crowley, founded the Argenteum Astrum? Such questions are not provocative but structural. Angel re-centers vision from a feminized, embodied position, one dismissed within avant-garde and esoteric traditions. Levi’s stance has less in common with Surrealist urge than with ritual endurance. Where Štyrský’s dream erotics emphasize compulsive return, Levi’s dreamwork, modulated by Chöd practice and tantric descent, induces oblation. Experiences of loss, longing, lament are neither psychologized nor transcended; they are placed into the poem as material to be confronted and, symbolically, devoured. In Angel, the avant-garde and the hermetic are made answerable, but never renounced.
This is where the concept of “duende” becomes difficult to avoid. Federico García Lorca explained that duende does not come from above like an angel. Duende “rises from within, from the soles of the feet.” Levi’s poems are saturated with that energy. Her voice refuses safe distance; it remains in a zone where song entails struggle and vision is inseparable from wound. It is worth clarifying here that documenting injury and romanticizing pain are not one and the same thing. Duende, in this context, names neither aesthetic intensity nor inspiration, but the refusal to leave that struggle and that wound behind. Not just yet, for duende is about danger.
It is perhaps telling that Louise Landes Levi does not appear prominently in many collections of “women Beat writers.” Whether this absence reflects critical oversight or deliberate positioning is difficult to determine. What can be stated with confidence is that Levi’s work operates in direct continuity with Beat commitments to vision and lived practice. Her relative invisibility may be less a failure of recognition than a chosen condition. There is something persuasive in the suspicion that Levi occupies the role of a hidden master, a task that seems to suit both her work and its uncompromising demands. Standing “in Angel” is not elevation but a maintained position at the crossing of worlds, where insight must be earned. Few contemporary poetry books are willing to occupy this space. Fewer still can sustain it without spectacle. Where I Stand in Angel is not, finally, a book to be decoded. It is a rigorous poetic diary—ecstatic, uncompromising, and written with duende.
Antonio J. Bonome, PhD Lecturer at Universidad Carlos III de Madrid and Beat Generation scholar.
About Louise Landes Levi
Poet, performer, translator and traveler, Louise Landes Levi was born in NYC, studied at the University of California and traveled to India, overland, in the late 60s. Her works on India, recognized classics, decades after their accomplishments — RASA by René Daumal and Sweet on My Lips: The Love Poems of Mirabi — are still in print.
An itinerant scholar & iconoclast, Levi continues to publish, self-publish*, write and wander, translating when requested or inspired and performing, in a wide variety of venues in USA, EU & Japan. She participated in the Burroughs Festival in 2010 University of London, Paris, where the booklet upon which her assertions in the introduction (to this book) were first presented.
A student of Namkhai Norbu Rinpoche for the final 4 decades of his life, she expresses deep gratitude to him for his immeasurable kindness to her. Recent publications include Banana Baby (Supernova, 2006), The Book L (Cool Grove, 2010), Love Cantos 1-5 (Jack in Your Box, 2012), From The Ming Oracle (Sloowax, 2014), Crazy Louise or La Conversazione Sacra (Station Hill, 2018), The Orgasmic Nations (Ragged Lion, 2020) and Behind the Buddha’s Mask (Counter Cultural Chronicles, 2021). Single poems, chapbooks, interviews and reviews are online at Otoliths, Big Bridge, Unlikely Stories, The Brooklyn Rail, The Mirror, Wire and at the Cool Grove Press website. Recent spoken word cassettes: Sacred Remains in the Transformation Station, No Further Than the Nightingale, Opacity and Oblivion. Recent LPs: Ikiru, Kami and Mad Song.
* Levi directs Il Bagatto Press, which originally published ANGEL in an edition of 16 copies, 2 of which are in the Tadanori Yokoo Museum, in Kobe, Japan.
This is a reissue of Barbaric Haiku by Irish-born painter, poet, sculptor, and visionary Herbert Kearney: a Japanese accordion-style book of miniature watercolors and verse.
Barbaric Haiku is a collection of poetry and artwork — a journey across pages that fold and unfold like waves. Enter Herbie’s world of poets, dreamers, outcasts, and lovers where, as Baudelaire advised, one must always “get drunk, with wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you please.”
ISBN: 979-8-9851293-5-9 Publisher: Golda Foundation Publication Date: 2025 Format: accordion-style book, color prints Pages: ~ 60 Language: English
Buy Barbaric Haiku for $35. This price includes postage within the United States. Order with the Buy Now button.
George Long: The Jazz Painter is a selection of paintings spanning from the early 1970s to the present by San Francisco painter and saxophonist, George Long. The book is guided by a series of vignettes and interviews, written by Ayla Ginger Burnett, following the trajectory of Long’s life and artwork.
ISBN: 979-8-9851293-4-2 Publisher: Golda Foundation Publication Date: 2025 Format: Softcover, color prints Pages: 92 Language: English
