We'd like to know what you think about our web site. Please leave your comments in this public guest book so we can share your thoughts with other visitors.
We'd like to know what you think about our web site. Please leave your comments in this public guest book so we can share your thoughts with other visitors.
This is a great webpage! Keep up the good work!
Name: Andrew Gettler Email:Samsara1944@aol.com Location: Bronx, NY USA Date: Tuesday, May 16, 2000 at 16:31:10 Comments: I first corresponded with Jack to request a few poems from him for publication in a mag (ALTERNATIVE fiction&poetry) I was editing at the time, this after being turned on in a major way to his work by poetfriend Tony Moffeit, who'd done a piece on jack for Bloomsbury Review, & he sent me a whole bunch of stuff,little paintings, verses, warmned me to steer clear of the "Poetry Scene", Bronx boy as am I, one of the greatest readers I have heard, now maybe some younlings will know & dig him too, true authentic voice of America&poetry&truth
Name: denny j Huber Email:djhuber@eudoramail.com Location: Pittsburgh, pa us Date: Thursday, April 27, 2000 at 21:24:41 Comments: ASCAP: using some poems in adaptation, (G.Nicosia) -stage show "Memory Babe" being produced for Lowell celebrates Keroauc" 2000 13th annual---a beat roadshow
Name: jehanah wedgwood Email:jehanah@webtv.net Location: san francisco, calca usa Date: Wednesday, April 26, 2000 at 01:13:02 Comments: jack was a great poet and painter, an inspiration and mentor to many. At the Sacred Grounds Cafe's weekly poetry readings, we have featured his work many times since before and after his ascension...as well as many of our poems dedicated to his memory. He showed us how. Cheers to Jack !Micheline.
Name: Keira Chassman Email:k_chassman@hotmail.com Location: NY, NY USA Date: Tuesday, April 18, 2000 at 22:02:17 Comments: My dad, Neil Chassman, was also a poet in the late 50's and still remains a wonderful inspiration to me. He was very touched by Jack's work and attended the memorial at the Knitting Factory. As the daughter of a poet and artist myself, I know how awesome it is to be so blessed with the unique, wonderful and wild imagination and expressiveness I grew up with. If anyone out there reads this and knows my dad, or his publication in Five American Poets with Foreward by Lawrence Ferlinghetti please give me a shout.
Name: Carl MURPHY Email:MURPH2@NETCOM.CA Location: Montreal, Québec Canada Date: Sunday, April 9, 2000 at 09:26:53 Comments: I met Jack in my kichen on 24th Street San Francisco in 1974. He was a warm and sympathetic man, not vain, no edges, very supportive of struggling poets who didn't have to be 'beat' for him dig and promote. I gues he's gone where the good poets go.
Name: Judge Date: Tuesday, March 28, 2000 at 10:40:18 Comments: R E A D Vagabond Press's RAGGED LION edited by John Bennett
Name: Mark Fisher Email:we_sing_fire@yahoo.com Location: marblehead,Date: Sunday, March 5, 2000 at 15:46:44 Comments: I remember Jack at the NYU Beat Conference furiously drawing in secret notebook during meditation exercise led by Allen Ginsberg. Boxcar buddha floating free in universal mind
Name: Vicki Betts Email:Vbetts52@cs.com Location: Sugarloaf, CA US Date: Friday, January 21, 2000 at 03:31:52 Comments: Please send me information on your Live and Learn MFCC Examination Study Guide Program. My old address was PO Box 545, Mt. Baldy, CA 91759. My current address is PO Box 5201, Sugarloaf, CA 92386. Thanks, Vicki B.
Name: Eric Lyden Email:livelrn@aol.com Location: Woodland Hills, CA USA Date: Sunday, December 12, 1999 at 21:48:43 Comments: I sent along some three of the poems I wrote for Jack. I Ilook at one of his paintings, "The Balloon Man," on my son's wall (Jack sent it to me 7 years ago when he was born) and I laugh and think about him. He was a regular contributor of poetry and art to my rag, The Moment. I feel grateful to have been touched by sweet and wild guy. - Eric Lyden
Name: Sayr Garik Email:s_garik@hotmail.com American Gen X Date: Monday, November 29, 1999 at 01:13:49 Comments: One is never a poet until someone dedicates there emotional art to yours and labels you a poet. Here's my words to you Jack and it looks as though there are many others' dedications as well---yes, you are a poet and more than a wise man. Afterall, being a freak is a beautiful thing. When I was in doubt and poetically determined, lost, betrayed by skyscrapers, blood stained sheets covered, jazzed in N'Orleans, squating in backseats, piped for the eternal orgasm, fueled by cognition, Charles pushing a 9mm to my chest on Bourbon , hurled by corporate literary satyrs in the scope of starscape's trash bucket, the mic, a god of dogma, kneeling before the audience, seeing poems unfold in every quite stammer, lodging in other poet friends' eyes, being eaten by the metal winged moths of rebellion and the word until you cry when the streets are gone, the people gone, and the poetry is there as a fleeing soul and you hook the soul with a lease, whirl him around till you face its wild eyes and you say, "My god, that's me. this Freak and slave of word is me, neurotic Me." You taught me to think of me as nothing short of beauty. Now I no longer shoot my verbal gun at the ground. I aim them High, like Northern lights, like Northern stars. (Long Live the Freaks who are truley blessed!!!) Thank you, Sayr, son of stars
Name: grandma pat Email:pacme@msn.com Location: Tucson, AZ USA Date: Sunday, November 21, 1999 at 20:43:44 Comments: It's A Boy!! JACK'S grandson, DUSTIN ANDREW SILVAER was born yesterday, November 20, 1999 at 1:58 PM, weighing in at 8lbs.8oz.!!! and 21 inches tall. He is beautiful, healthy and wonderful. Mama is doing fine and Daddy and Nicole can't stop smiling. Congratulations Vince and Sheri - ya did good.
Name:Erin Smith Email:FaerieSong@aol.com Location: Providence, RI USA Date: Thursday, October 21, 1999 at 13:26:29 Comments: Beautiful words.
Name:Andrew Fenton Email:bobmobile@cybertours.com Date: Friday, September 17, 1999 at 01:21:21 Comments: I knew Jack slightly from the Mars Bar and saw him perform once in So Ho -a fine evening which I will always remember; when he was on, he was on!
Name: Scott Daley Email:scott@3dzoo.com Location: Sebastopol, CADate: Monday, September 13, 1999 at 16:39:03 Comments: I was searching for Malcolm Whyte of the Troubadour Press, and then for the 'Press itself. This lead me to your site. My parents were artists, and we lived a block away from the City Lights book store in the '50s. I didn't know Jack but I have a feeling that my father, Roger Daley, may have. Anyway, it's great that you are honoring one of those wonderful beat souls!
Name:Joe Grant Email:jgrant@bookzen.com Location: Madison, WI USA Date: Saturday, August 21, 1999 at 20:04:15 Comments: And now, as we close in on the Millenium, John Bennett (Vagabond Press: vagabond@eburg.com ) edits "RAGGED LION: A Tribute to Jack Micheline." With contributors: Matt Gonzalez, Bruce Issacson, Bob Feldman (Jack's sax man for many a decade), Jack Hirschman, Ira Cohen, Herschel Silverman, Kaye McDonough, Rick Librizzi, Martin Pajeck, ruth weiss, Latif Harris, Janice Blue, Andy Clausen, John Landry, Ed Burn, Steve Dalachinsky, Linda Lerner, Noni Howard, Tony Moffeit, Joel Scherzer, Catfish McDaris, Fred Voss, Michael McClure, Ben Gulyas,Peter Chelnik, Julia Vinograd, Janine Pommy Vega, Vojo Sindolic, Alberto Huerta, Wayne Miller, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Jeff Weinberg, Carl Macki, R.B. Morris, Maj Ragain, Saint Teresa Stone, Rafael Alvarado, Linda King, Jim Lang, S.A. Griffin, Floyd Salas, Charles Plymell, A.D. Winans, Neeli Cherkovski, F.A. Nettlebeck, Charles Potts, Ann Menebroker, Kell Robertson, Al Masarik, Ben Hiatt, Harry Smith,Kent Taylor, Todd Moore, Lynne Savitt, David Plumb, Rich Mangelsdorff, Hubert Selby Jr., Maia Penfold, Albert Huffstickler, Jack Saunders, Art Beck, Hugh Fox, Brenda Schiff (Jack's niece), Vince Silvaer, Alan Kaufman, Dan Shot, Charles Gonzales, Scott Harrison, S.S. Kush.....and three or four photographers.... And the Beat (the Micheline Beat) goes on and on and on and on . . . .
Name: Courtney Blake USA Date: Thursday, August 5, 1999 at 15:10:08 Comments: I liked the page a lot...it was very informative. Keep up the good work!!! :)
Name: Bill Pustarfi Email:stepwolf2@aol.com Location: New York City, NY US Date: Sunday, July 11, 1999 at 00:08:37 Comments: Jack used to stay with us sometimes when he was in New York City. I met him in Woodstock NY in the 60s. We shared some laughs and had some good talks. He wrote some poems for us. He had left us some stuff over the years, drawings he did at "Dr. Generosity's" up on 2nd Avenue, the poem Chicken Lady, Chicken Man. It's all around here somewhere. I remember the painter he introduced me to in a joint on Broadway, the painter who had his stuff in the Whitney and put down Jack's drawings. I remember Jack introducing me to this guy, but I sure as censored don't remember his name. Bill & Kathy Pustarfi
Name: jaf Email:jaf@pacificonline.net Location: waldport, or usa Date: Sunday, July 4, 1999 at 16:22:15 Comments: i was a friend in the village days, we used to do poetry together and hang out in washington sq. fountain and other places....promised never to reveal his real name
Name: Lorri Davidson Email:LLDavid555@aol.com Location: Las Vegas, NV USA Date: Wednesday, June 30, 1999 at 11:28:17 Comments: Dear Vince, I was surfing and found this web site. What a great idea! You have done something very special. I think about you guys and miss you all very much. Hello from Alex and much love from all three of us. Your cuz, Lorri
Name: Harry the Dead Poet Email:cordings@ihug.co.nz New Zealand Date: Friday, May 14, 1999 at 02:26:01 Comments: A lovely tribute to an authentic cultural hero. I never met Jack, but I admire what he did and the way he lived. Thanks
Name: Diana Kyle Email:hollywoodred@hotmail.com Location: Los Angeles, CADate: Wednesday, April 14, 1999 at 17:46:38 Comments: Vince - Please contact me about a show I am producing in Los Angeles written and performed by peter Coca. Peter read a piece about your father he had written at his memorial. The performances will be in May and this piece will be one of four performed. You will get a flyer via "snail-mail" as soon as they are ready. Look forward to hearing from you - Diana Kyle
Name: Lorena Cassady Email:openhand@ix.netcom.com Location: Oakland, CADate: Thursday, March 18, 1999 at 22:36:39 Comments: 2 stories about Jack. In '87 or '88 i bought Jack a dozen tubes of gouach and asked him to teach my 9-year old son to paint. We lived in a big communal house, so lots of people were drawn to the sight of the old man and the young boy sitting across a wooden table from eachother in the sunny kitchen. Jack opened up the tubes and started right in. My son watched him for awhile, listening to his tips (i.e. start with the background color first, just do it, don't worry about it). Finally my son picked up a brush and started painting. A few minutes later Jack (who already had paint spatters all over his face)looked up at my son and grinned at him. "Ya havin' fun, kid? 'Cause if you're not havin' fun, you should go do something else." My son smiled back, and they painted together for the rest of the afternoon. I often remember that comment from Jack when I find myself getting bogged down. 2nd story. Jack lived in another house with us for 6 months in the mid 80's. We used to paint together and read poetry too. One day Jack, my daughter, and my son, were happily painting in a big sunny room and Jack got really exhuberant as he often did while painting. It really made him happy. He suddenly threw a can of gesso on the floor to open it. It exploded, sending thick blobs of white everywhere. Jack helped clean for about 5 minutes, but then lost interest and went in the kitchen to burn up a frying pan cooking lunch. Nearly set the kitchen on fire. It was fun living with Jack, as many of you know.
Name: Lorena Cassady Email:openhand@ix.netcom.com Location: Oakland, CADate: Thursday, March 18, 1999 at 22:22:48 Comments: Oops, I forgot. Does anyone know the whereabouts of Fred Nettelbeck, a mutual friend of Jack and myself?
Name: Lorena Cassady Email:openhand@ix.netcom.com Location: Oakland, CA USA Date: Thursday, March 18, 1999 at 22:17:56 Comments: 2 stories about Jack. In '87 or '88 I got him a dozen tubes of gouach, and asked him to teach my 7-year old son to paint. We lived in a communal house, lots of people around, and they were drawn to the scene; the old man and the young boy seated across a wooden table from eachother in the sunny kitchen. Jack gave him a few tips (start with the background color first) and then started to get into it. My son watched him for awhile, then cautiously started. A few minutes later Jack looked up at him and said, "Ya havin' fun, kid?" My son nodded, startled. "because if you're not havin' fun, it ain't worth doin'" Since then, I often apply that yardstick to my own life when things get out of hand. Second story. Jack lived in another house with me for 6 mos in the mid-80's. We used to paint together, often with my kids. Jack got really exhuberant when he painted. One afternoon while we were all sitting around working on our own paintings, he tried to open a can of jesso by throwing it at the floor. It exploded open and splattered the whole room with big white blobs. Jack helped me clean for while, but then he lost interest. I finished cleaning while he went into the kitchen and burnt up a frying pan cooking dinner. In the midst of the disasters, there was always pure joy. Jack encouraged the artist in everyone when he saw it. And he saw it in the most unexpected places.
Name: Lorena Cassady Email:openhand@ix.netcom.com Location: Oakland, CA U.S.A. Date: Monday, March 8, 1999 at 00:21:39 Comments: Keep me informed about new books, cds, videos, gatherings. Jack's spirit lives in his friends, and through his wonderful son. Thanks for the site.
Name:Joyce Metzger Email:stormey@sunline.net Location: Arcadia, Fl USA Date: Monday, March 1, 1999 at 17:33:59 Comments: Every poet knows joy and sorrow. Every publisher has regrets. I know both worlds; being a joyful recepient of Jack Micheline's insightful words, the sorrow for never for never having had the opportunity to meet him personally on a physical level, and as a publisher, never having had the chance to publish one of his books at JVC. He'll be missed and I hope San Fran has enough sense to rename one of their streets for someone who walked, loved and worked there!
Name: Matt Gonzalez Email:fmsbw@hotmail.com Location: San Francisco, CADate: Sunday, February 28, 1999 at 16:12:36 Comments: The event commemorating the one-year anniversary of Jack Micheline's death and publication party for the new edition of "Sixty-seven Poems for Downtrodden Saints" held at Scott Harrison's bookstore, The Abandoned Planet Bookstore, in San Francisco was a success. The following poets/writers in attendance included: Dave Duboc, Serenity Enriquez, George Evans, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Harold Norse, Michael Price, Irving Rosenthal, and A.D. Winans. Also present were publisher of the Oracle Allen Cohen, publisher of X-ray magazine Johnny Brewton, and publisher of Open City newspaper John Bryan. Translator of the City Lights Goethe volume and director of the Walter Benjamin Research Syndicate Scott Thompson and the host of a new poetry reading program at the S.F. Main Library entitled "On the Page, Off the Page" "Diamond Dave" Whitaker also attended. The artists/painters who dropped by included: John Bovio, Frank Garvey, Felix Macnee, Joe Mangrum, and Tom Schultz. Other friends in attendance included: Barbara Bennett, Kurt Bigenho, Mort Cohn, Katrina Dalton, Julia Frink, Philip Hackett, Rachel Hammerlein, Carin Keating, Frank Kennedy, Kush, Kira Lasher, Jeff McCampbell, Andrew McKinley, Tsring Maya, Ryder Miller, Rebecca Peters, Kenny Phau, Pushkin, Liz Ross, Jeff and Marci Schwartz, Geoff Turner, Steve Wilson, and Wayne Waylon. Chuck Gonzalez performed many of Jack's songs, which they had collaborated on, including: "A Long Long Time," "A Song for Everybody," "Old Maid," "Long Dusty Road," "Sweet Sue, Pennsylvania," "St. Jacob's Hall," and "Traveling On."
Name: innisfree Location: s.f., kalifornia amerikkka Date: Wednesday, February 24, 1999 at 12:58:00 Comments: old poets are like pizza flat and cheesy not even good for leftovers with a glass of ale shalom
Name: multimedia edizioni Email:multimediaed@xcom.it Location: baronissi (sa), italyDate: Saturday, February 13, 1999 at 16:04:31 Comments:
Name: multimedia edizioni Date: Saturday, February 13, 1999 at 16:02:37 Comments:
Name: Scott Harrison Email:abanplanet@earthlink.net Location: San Francisco, CA USA Date: Tuesday, February 9, 1999 at 14:52:42 Comments: Hard to believe he's gone. Hard to belive a year has passed. He always use to say he was ill and wouldn't live long. I didn't believe him. Well. I do recall one interesting episode. A young writer (not me) was anxious to get his opinion about what she had written and in a classic Jack outburst he told her, "What the censored does it matter what I think! If you care what other people think you're lost! Listen sweetheart, don't you see, it's what you think that matters!" Classic Jack.
Name: Matt Gonzalez Email:fmsbw@hotmail.com Location: San Francisco, CA USA Date: Sunday, February 7, 1999 at 22:46:45 Comments: I'll tell you a story about Jack Micheline. On New Years Day 1998, in the evening, Jack came into the Adobe Bookshop were I was talking with Frank Kennedy. He was carrying a big stick, like a broomstick, and was chewing on a huge piece of gum. Actually, he kept adding sticks of gum to what he already had in his mouth. Well, Jack had this idea that he would put the gum on the end of the stick and try to fish out the change from between the cushions on the couch at the bookstore. I guess Jack figured he would get some money and buy a slice of pizza or something. Frank and I couldn't stop laughing and Jack had a big grin on his face. The get rich scheme didn't work out though. He lost the piece of gum and then just laughed with us. He tried reaching his arm between the cushions to retrieve the gum but that didn't work out either. It's probably still there.
Name: mu mu Date: Sunday, February 7, 1999 at 22:26:41 Comments: jack was right poets are idiots with a capital I
Name: mu mu Date: Sunday, February 7, 1999 at 22:20:45 Comments: its been a year since jack met the great pivot the mission will never be the same the yuppies killed jack micheline
Name: Confessiouns Email:confessiouns@egroups Date: Thursday, January 14, 1999 at 10:22:24 Comments: Thanks for the "WORDS"!
Name:Reda Tipton & Vince Balestri Email:vandr@oz.net Location: Seattle, WA USA Date: Saturday, October 17, 1998 at 17:26:31 Comments: Finally signing the guest book. Has been too sad so far. Jack was loved. We miss him. Vince, we never met you, but your father was very dear to us. Thank you for putting up this website.
Name: Dave Weisbrod Email:dw_g2@hotmail.com Location: San Diego, CADate: Sunday, October 11, 1998 at 15:30:18 Comments: Dear Vince, Thank you for putting me on your mailing list. This is a very nice site, Jack would approve. With Respect...Dave
Name: Stephen Mason Email:madjak@worldnet.att.net Location: Austin, Tx U.s. Date: Saturday, October 3, 1998 at 16:02:43 Comments:
Name: Carm Location: San Diego,, CADate: Monday, September 14, 1998 at 19:45:53 Comments: What a wonderful tribute. I'm impressed by the amount of work and love that went into this website. As you know, I never met your dad, but now I feel I know much more about him. I'm certain he'd be so very proud of you and what you're trying to accomplish.Good luck, Vince!
Name:Indy Email:indy@kaliweb.com Location: ny, ny usa Date: Thursday, September 10, 1998 at 00:07:48 Comments: Finally, there is some info to be found on Jack. I am hurt of Jack's death. I met Jack in NY. In a bar call the Mars Bar in Lower Manhattan. He was wearing a crazy white hat with gold embroidery. I complimented him on his hat. He said I am going to tell you a story about his hat. "he saw a line of Arabs on Avenue A, out of plain curiousity he decided to join the line to see what all the fuss was about. well they were selling hats and so he bought one" afterwards he took off the hat and gave it to me....I cherish it and all the memories.
Name: TESTING Date: Tuesday, September 1, 1998 at 15:41:54 Comments: TESTING
Name: Jenna M. Email:jenna96607@aol.com Date: Wednesday, August 12, 1998 at 17:23:42 Comments: poetry saved his life!
Name: Craig W. Hurst Email:churst@uwc.edu Location: Waukesha, WI U.S.A. Date: Friday, July 24, 1998 at 16:26:06 Comments: Enjoy the webpage very much. I regret that I did not become aware of Jack Micheline until I read of his death. I have an avid interest in the Beats and their work. I also regret that much of his work is out of print and not readily available (at least so far). Keep up the good work with the webpage. I look forward to seeing how it develops. Thanks, Craig W. Hurst. C
Name: Mark Schwebke Email:virtuals@europa.com Location: Portland, OregonDate: Friday, July 10, 1998 at 02:37:35 Comments: Ah Jack, I'll never forget Jack at the Hoo Haw in Eugene, Oregon when he recited the Rock song. Then having the distinct pleasure of meeting him many years later, he let me publish one of his poems and then gave me a whole series of his own broadsides that night in a completely unselfish manner. God Bless Ya! Jack You never sold out, you only got better with age. I'm glad he is getting some credit in this crazy space we call the internet. May the electronic waves spin wild in the streets, wail, wail at the electric moon!
Name: Jason Hillenburg Email:wordgod@hotmail.com Location: Bloomington, INDate: Tuesday, June 23, 1998 at 15:55:51 Comments: When men like this die, and I see no suitable replacements, I pray for the future of everyone of us. God Bless Jack Micheline.
Name: Dan Wilcox Email:wilcox23@juno.com Location: Albany, NY USA Date: Tuesday, June 16, 1998 at 22:03:51 Comments: Thanks for putting up Jack's poems. He'll be our muse this month at the open mic at C@fe Web, Madison Ave., Albany, NY -- it's always the third thursday, 7:thirty, if you're in town.
Name:ave jeanne Email:bbreview@aol.com Location: Croydon, PA USA Date: Tuesday, June 9, 1998 at 18:33:18 Comments: Thanks for contacting me regarding your web site for Jack Micheline. My readers too, will appreciate your efforts. ave jeanne
Name: Paul Williams Email:paulrw@btinternet.com Location: Winchester, UK Date: Thursday, June 4, 1998 at 10:46:21 Comments: A wonderful tribute from a son to a father. A lucky man.
Name:joseph grant Email:jgrant@bookzen.com Location: Madison, WI US Date: Sunday, May 31, 1998 at 21:38:36 Comments: Vince, Great site. Wonderful pictures. I'm adding your URL to the Jack Micheline Memorial page at BookZen: . joe
Name:Catfish McDaris Email:Catmex@aol.com Location: West Allis, WI earth Date: Thursday, May 28, 1998 at 17:25:35 Comments: hey Jack, why did you have to leave? Prying is selling, now, I got your painting on the wall. you ran out on me. Nimmo wrote some good words for you. let me know if you this is a trick. i won't tell anyone. later amigo no more wolves at the door! i got your letters a home i think. adios
Name:Jausten Email:jausten@geocities.com Canada Date: Wednesday, May 27, 1998 at 15:49:49 Comments: Wonderful poetry! I'm looking forward to reading more and also reading some short stories. Thank you. Peace & Serenity, Jausten
Name:Kurt Nimmo Email:nimmo@flash.net Location: Chicago, IL USA Date: Monday, May 25, 1998 at 12:28:43 Comments: JACK MICHELINE you were right a poet who thinks he is a poet fools him- self in the hustle and jack i am with you in the street christ curse my balls for the pain they deliver to my head and curse my head for words i want to purge for feel- ings toward women for beauty for the sun- flowers of van gogh for the strings of bela bartok curse love it is a traitor sullen with false joy- ousness i am with you jack in death on the bart in the illusion that is life curse and scream odes of passion for a mountain you in that wooden chair before the tantric eyes of death curse beauty curse life take the illusion for it is real- ity and not this my hands my eyes my cock my tongue split with words broken on the im- possibility that is a woman curse life jack for i am with you in death and illusion
Name:ron androla Email:ronand@webtv.net Location: erie, pa usa Date: Saturday, May 16, 1998 at 14:29:37 Comments: jack micheline was a true poet, & it was an honor to have met him & thrown back beer with him in the early 80's here in erie pa when he came to read.
Name:Tazminx Email:Tazminx@aol.com Location: New York, NY USA Date: Sunday, May 10, 1998 at 19:34:45 Comments: Great introductory site to a man who seems to mean so much to so many. I'm new to his work and this site has furthered my education. Just back from SF - passed by the Mission district (Muddy Waters, Abandoned Planet, Nameless Church, 16th St.) to get a feel for JM's SF. Such great energy. It's all coming together.
Name:Brian Nation Email:nation@ican.net Location: Vancouver,Date: Friday, May 8, 1998 at 20:18:55 Comments: used to see jack at deux magots so many years ago, thirty? forty? - think of him and others often - told myself you've got to get out of canada & go see this man - true spirit ah well, am i too late - age wrinkles up the old time brain thank you for these pages - bye, old maid
Name: Jim Dunn Email:yodahead@msn.com Location: Cambridge, MA USA Date: Friday, May 8, 1998 at 09:19:25 Comments: I was in SF the first week of February for work. i was staying in Union Square and read a great article in the weekly paper about Jack micheline I walked down Sutter Street in the rain looking for the address given in the paper for Jack. He was selling limited number of signed copies of his book and I wanted to meet him. I found the building at 41 Sutter St and was dissap ointed when the guard told me that the address wwas only a PO Box The next night I was in a bar in North Beach across from City lights. I saw Jack Hirschman who I had read with some time ago in Boston. I mistakenly thought him to be Jack Micheline(had my Jacks mixed up) and spent the night with him drinking. I never found Jack Micheline but I new I was so close that the rain fell harder and harder . In the end, we never met and I meant to send in the 15 bucks for his book(which I never did) and nowI am reminded of the guy on the corner of Sutter Strett peddling his poems iin the rain across from my hotel. It wasn't him, but it was as close as I'll ever get to hi spirit. Amen, Jack
Name:Alan Kaufman Email:Akpoem@aol.com Location: San Francisco, CA USA Date: Wednesday, April 29, 1998 at 18:57:17 Comments: May you be blessed with serenity, good health, prosperity and joy for this intelligent labor of love. Jack Micheline went the limit as a man and a poet, did not sell out and his poetry contains the joy and the anguish of his lifelong struggle to remain authentic to himself. May he serve as example to us all, and to future generations of poets.
Name: John Norton Email:jnorton@us.oracle.com Location: San Francisco, CADate: Tuesday, April 28, 1998 at 18:28:34 Comments: I first met Jack in 1975-76 just about the time when I first began to write poetry. "Poetry's not about words," he kept telling me. He led me into seeing it was about rhythm, music, the beat, ecstacy and so on. There was no BS with Jack. If anyone's report on the other side could be trusted, it would be Jack's. I miss him as a good friend and guide. Peace, Jack.
Name: tony seldin vagabond poet Email:lwindrain8@hotmail.com Location: sf, ca usa Date: Sunday, April 26, 1998 at 13:56:23 Comments: thank you for a great home page for jack one of the greatest poets who ever walked the streets america. warm regards tony seldin vagabond poet from
Name: K.B. Nemcosky Email:kabenyc@aol.com Location: NYC, NY USA Date: Tuesday, April 21, 1998 at 01:40:33 Comments: I too was at the Knitting Factory. It was splendid. Healing. Inspiring.
Name: Carl Macki Email:carl_macki@mailcity.com Location: Novato, CA USA Date: Sunday, April 19, 1998 at 17:14:59 Comments: Vince, thanks for clearing up the mystery of Jack's chosen name. I had heard an apochryphal account from a certain Beat biographer that his last name Micheline came about because Jack was trying to spell 'mescaline" and it didn't come out right.
Name: Carl Macki Email:carl_macki@mailcity.com Location: Novato, CA USA Date: Sunday, April 19, 1998 at 17:07:32 Comments:
Name:Levi Asher Email:brooklyn@netcom.com Location: NY, NY USA Date: Sunday, April 19, 1998 at 09:43:27 Comments: Wonderful tribute at the Knitting Factory yesterday ... very inspiring. The Downtrodden Saints foundation for starving poets sounds excellent, hope it works out ... -- Levi
Name:Linda Lerner Email:lerner@mindspring.com Location: New York City, N.Y.Date: Saturday, April 18, 1998 at 22:13:11 Comments: A helleva guy who was poet to the bone.An experience I'll always treasure is the day I spent with him in S.F. in June, 1996.
Name: Eric Mingus Email:emingus@sprintmail.com Location: New York, NY USA Date: Saturday, April 18, 1998 at 18:10:39 Comments: Thanks for the Bright Moments Jack.....
Name:Dan Hayman Email:danhayman@accomplishments.com Location: Denver, CO USA Date: Wednesday, April 15, 1998 at 10:26:21 Comments: WELL DONE!!
Name:Danny Shot Email:dshot@mindspring.com Location: Hoboken, NJ USA Date: Wednesday, April 15, 1998 at
your site sucks nuts
Thank you for this site - there's few publications of Jack available here in Germany, just one book of prose and several poems, so it's great to find all these photos, poems, paintings here. There's not other poet, dead or living, who inspired me like Jack!!
I would like to say that I was a young woman poet in New York City in the late 1950's and read poetry at readings with Jack Micheline and heard his readings and I loved him. H.
I think this is awonderful site dedicated to a truly gifted artist.
I think this is awonderful site dedicated to a truly gifted artist. rernst@vinson.navy.mil
I miss my Godfather... who sang me songs from the middle of the street . paper for me to paint on. and poems for me to pin on my wall... xoxoxxooxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoBB
I loved Jack. He worked in my studio at the San Francisco Art Institute. He would break in before I would get there,and I was getting there real early in the morning. I have a lot of his paintings he gave me and a signed hand made book. I had done a portrait of Jack and it was stolen at the Poetry Convention at Fort Mason. If anyone sees it please let me know. He has a crow on his arm.
I loved Jack. He worked in my studio at the San Francisco Art Institute. He would break in before I would get there,and I was getting there real early in the morning. I have a lot of his paintings he gave me and a signed hand made book. I had done a portrait of Jack and it was stolen at the Poetry Convention at Fort Mason. If anyone sees it please let me know. He has a crow on his arm.Thomasina J. DeMaio
Hi, Vince ! Good to see this site up and about. I can hear your father's voice right now !
all the best, John Landry New Bedford, MA
also
which poem has those lines
"I got a chicken inthe ocean..."
John
john Landry
jlandry@umassd.edu
Great admirer of Jacks - - knew him slightly. I printed a poem of his that was included in Alix Gulardi's book. Wonder if anyone knows what happened to Kaye McDonnough, a poet who was a close friend of his. Sam The Printer Magisterr@Hotmail.com
Great admirer of Jacks - - knew him slightly. I printed a poem of his that was included in Alix Gulardi's book. Wonder if anyone knows what happened to Kaye McDonnough, a poet who was a close friend of his. Sam The Printer Magisterr@Hotmail.com
Hello! Only the fact that there is a jackmicheline.com site is a most marvelous thing. Thank you very much!
I met JM while integrating the Beat Reunion - NYU, '96 I think had been a village kid back in the late 50's/early 60's a reader of sorts, mostly beat stuff also wrote like everybody else took a nose dive into art in the late 60's and still do writing and art but they've taken away all the cheap studios so now I'm restricted to art in the attic Read some potery with Bob Feldman kindly jamming his sound to my words at palces around NY and elsewhere We both liked your father and appreciated him people who knew him were graced to have known him people who know his words have had their lives enhanced. I know his decent soul added red and yellow to my life sometimes when I still walk those old streets in NY I still see the hole in the city his death and other street poet's deaths have left then I hear some other street poet singing and words fill that old hole up again Still, he'll be missed jmcarnright@aol.com
i'm new to the figure of micheline & am only checking him out upon the recommendation of mr f.a. nettelbeck -- who thinks jack a great writer...
what i do know of him i like: he said of nettelbeck's neglect " shame on america" & i couldn't agree more. find a copy of bug death & read it.
good this is up here.
Just searching for your poem, "lessick's kid". Thank you, Rhonda Lessick
GREAT WEB PAGE!
JACK'S DA MAN.
ANY OTHER POETS OUT THERE WISHIN' TO CONNECT, E-MAIL ME AT: THEHOMELESSPOET@HOTMAIL.COM
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GREAT WEB PAGE!
JACK'S DA MAN.
ANY OTHER POETS OUT THERE WISHIN' TO CONNECT, E-MAIL ME AT: THEHOMELESSPOET@HOTMAIL.COM
-
beautiful site vince - keep up the good work! freethought publications
Beautiful website...and thankyou for stirring up so many memories of a very different time and world, that which Jack Micheline inhabited. I knew him, I guess, as well as he knew most people. He was very very gentle...always moving, you could feel his inside racing...too intoxicated responding to the world around him to take any notice of himself. Always plunging in...always drowning in the world around himself. He was very generous...and unselfconsciously needy. He died very young, never left time for himself to heal...moving rapidly carrying the bloody stains of living. goodstein-shapiro
Hi! I don't speak much english, but i want to say: I love beat-poets, REAL beat-poets for their inspiration, fighting, living, giving luck, example. visit me & friends on http://herzgalopp.de.vu
ßänx good feelings
raimund samson
i just have a question...
did he drop out of high school ?
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enjoyed it...well worth doiing..but you dont list his most recent selection of poems, which I saw at Barnes and noble in remote charlottesville, virginia.....it is lovely that he combines art and poetry for a full life...and he is a charmer...but another slightly annoying point...he is referred to as romanian russian in ancestry, which is true as far as it goes but misleading....it is like referring to an afro american of the nineteenth century as simply an american..he was Jewish of course, a group badly treated in romanian and russia and mostrously treated in romania..why be coy about it..but you do good work and should be thanked...stephen margulies, charlottesville, virginia
enjoyed it...well worth doiing..but you dont list his most recent selection of poems, which I saw at Barnes and noble in remote charlottesville, virginia.....it is lovely that he combines art and poetry for a full life...and he is a charmer...but another slightly annoying point...he is referred to as romanian russian in ancestry, which is true as far as it goes but misleading....it is like referring to an afro american of the nineteenth century as simply an american..he was Jewish of course, a group badly treated in romanian and russia and mostrously treated in romania..why be coy about it..but you do good work and should be thanked...stephen margulies, charlottesville, virginia
enjoyed it...well worth doiing..but you dont list his most recent selection of poems, which I saw at Barnes and noble in remote charlottesville, virginia.....it is lovely that he combines art and poetry for a full life...and he is a charmer...but another slightly annoying point...he is referred to as romanian russian in ancestry, which is true as far as it goes but misleading....it is like referring to an afro american of the nineteenth century as simply an american..he was Jewish of course, a group badly treated in romanian and russia and mostrously treated in romania..why be coy about it..but you do good work and should be thanked...stephen margulies, charlottesville, virginia
Great site. It brings back the sights and sounds of Jack from '70s and '80s in San Francisco and Berkeley. It's the dead, it's the dead, it's the gaauuddam dead, it's the dead that rule this world! Jack reigns.
I first learned about Jack Micheline while reading The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry. Liked his poetry and was eager to read more. I just ordered and received Ragged Lion and that's how I learned about your webpage. A valuable resource for all those interested in Jack. Roy McDonald, London, Ontario, Canada Writer/poet/busker
I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED JACK MICHELINE'S WORK, WHEN I CAN FIND IT! NOW I CAN FINALLY OWN A JACK MICHELINE BOOK IN MY HAND!! THIS IS A BEAUTIFUL SITE AND I SO FORTUNATE TO HAVE COME ACROSS IT. BEING A "SOMETIMES" POET, JACK'S WORK HAS ALWAYS INSPIRED ME TO WRITE THE WAY "I" WANT TO WRITE, AND TO NOT FEAR EVER BEING DISCOVERED OR A BECOME A "PUBLIC SUCCESS. WHEN YOU DIE, ALL THERE IS LEFT ARE JUST MEANINGLESS OBJECTS. I WOULD BE PLEASED AS AN OLD MAN SOMEDAY, TO LOOK AT MY RAGGETY BOOKSHELF & SEE MY BOOKS, SITTING UP THERE WITH THE REST OF THE GREAT ONES, AND DIE HONEST W/ PEN & PAPER IN HAND. IT IS NICE TO SEE ALL THE PEOPLE INVOLVED IN POST- WAR POETRY SCENE... IT GIVES PURE HOPE TO THE MONOTONY OF LIFE. KENNETH KBLUEBIRD777@AOL.COM
123 uandme
Enjoyed the Questionaire/interview form posted here-- that Jack M. used to select colors for his portrait paintings--(based on reponses to questions.) Highly original acknowledgement of the importance of color in life/art. I'd heard that Jack Micheline hung out around/under the Roxie Theater marquee on Valencia near 16th selling his chapbooks, when I lived right there in that block 1995-6, but unfortunately I never encountered him. I wanted to get one of his chapbooks FROM HIM. Well I moved to a different part of San Francisco and only after Jack Miceline's death did I learn that he lived in the back of the Abandoned Planet bookstore. This amazed me for I had spent one year right next door at the shabby Crown Hotel writing most of the poetry later published in my book of poems Erratic Sleep in a Cold Hotel. I'm just sorry I never saw him around. I'm not a celebrity hound so seldom seek-out well known people. Marie Kazalia MAKazalia@aol.com
Name: John F. Townsend III. E-mail: ejtownsendiii@cs.com. The legacy of Jack Micheline will endure.
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, parkin in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We musta' walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Bought cheap breakfasts, free, classy events--meeting Philip Levine, Christo. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night, said, "Wanna go in?" He looked in. "Nah, that's all set up for one man. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlingetti's on his picture poster with a scrawl of poets. Never hurt a fly. Loved Vincent Harvey Silver like a son. Drove up on the Delta, drove to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me-- it didn't hurt. I miss him, don't you? of names. house readings, out in the park.
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, parkin in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We musta' walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Bought cheap breakfasts, free, classy events--meeting Philip Levine, Christo. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night, said, "Wanna go in?" He looked in. "Nah, that's all set up for one man. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlingetti's on his picture poster with a scrawl of poets. Never hurt a fly. Loved Vincent Harvey Silver like a son. Drove up on the Delta, drove to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me-- it didn't hurt. I miss him, don't you? of names. house readings, out in the park.
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, sitting in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We musta' walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Always the Bronx, right here at home. Bought cheap breakfasts. Classy free events--Christo, Philip Levine--always introduced me. Two nights teaching art classes: he knew them all. Room full of joy, Jack in his element, teaching, more formal than at the bar or walking, splendid. Gave us new eyes. Hearing his poems at churches, bars, in the park. Never never to tired of them. He never got tired. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night. "Wanna go in?" He peeked. "Nah, that's all set up for one guy. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlinghetti's on painting/poster with a scrawl of poets. Loved Vincent Harvey Silver like a son. Rode up on the Delta, rode to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me-- it didn't hurt. I miss him, don't you?
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, sitting in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We musta' walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Always the Bronx, right here at home. Bought cheap breakfasts. Classy free events--Christo, Philip Levine--always introduced me. Two nights teaching art classes: he knew them all. Room full of joy, Jack in his element, teaching, more formal than at the bar or walking, splendid. Gave us new eyes. Hearing his poems at churches, bars, in the park. Never never to tired of them. He never got tired. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night. "Wanna go in?" He peeked. "Nah, that's all set up for one guy. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlinghetti's on painting/poster with a scrawl of poets. Loved Vincent Harvey Silver like a son. Rode up on the Delta, rode to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me-- it didn't hurt. I miss him, don't you?
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, sitting in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We must-uv walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Always the Bronx, right here at home. Bought cheap breakfasts. Classy free events--Christo, Philip Levine--always introduced me. Two nights teaching art classes: he knew them all. Room full of joy, Jack in his element, talking about friends. teaching, more formal than a bar or walking, splendid. Gave us new eyes. Hearing his poems at churches, bars, in the park. Never never got tired of them. He never got tired. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night. "Wanna go in?" He peeked. "Nah, that's all set up for one guy. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlinghetti's on painting/poster with a scrawl of poets. Loved Harvey Vincent Silver like a son. Rode up on the Delta, rode to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me-- it didn't hurt. I miss him, don't you?
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, sitting in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We must-uv walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Always the Bronx, right here at home. Bought cheap breakfasts. Classy free events--Christo, Philip Levine--always introduced me. Two nights teaching art classes: he knew them all. Room full of joy, Jack in his element, talking about friends, teaching, more formal than a bar or walking, splendid. Gave us new eyes. Heard his poems at churches, bars, in the park. Voice like music, down and dirty, angel on his back. Never never got tired of them. He never got tired. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night. "Wanna go in?" He peeked. "Nah, that's all set up for one guy. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlinghetti's on painting/poster with a scrawl of poets. Loved Harvey Vincent Silver like a son. Rode up on the Delta, rode to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me--it didn't hurt. I miss him, don't you?
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, sitting in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We must-uv walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Always the Bronx, right here at home. Bought cheap breakfasts. Classy free events--Christo, Philip Levine--always introduced me. Two nights teaching art classes: he knew them all. Room full of joy, Jack in his element, talking about friends, teaching, more formal than a bar or walking, splendid. Gave us new eyes. Heard his poems at churches, bars, in the park. Voice like music, down and dirty, angel on his back. Never never got tired of them. He never got tired. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night. "Wanna go in?" He peeked. "Nah, that's all set up for one guy. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlinghetti's on painting/poster with a scrawl of poets. Loved Harvey Vincent Silver like a son. Rode up on the Delta, rode to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me--it didn't hurt. I miss him, don't you?
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, sitting in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We must-uv walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Always the Bronx, right here at home. Bought cheap breakfasts. Classy free events--Christo, Philip Levine--always introduced me. Two nights teaching art classes: he knew them all. Room full of joy, Jack in his element, talking about friends, teaching, more formal than a bar or walking, splendid. Gave us new eyes. Heard his poems at churches, bars, in the park. Voice like music, down and dirty, angel on his back. Never never got tired of them. He never got tired. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night. "Wanna go in?" He peeked. "Nah, that's all set up for one guy. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlinghetti's on painting/poster with a scrawl of poets. Loved Harvey Vincent Silver like a son. Rode up on the Delta, rode to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me--it didn't hurt. I miss him, don't you?
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, sitting in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We must-uv walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Always the Bronx, right here at home. Bought cheap breakfasts. Classy free events--Christo, Philip Levine--always introduced me. Two nights teaching art classes: he knew them all. Room full of joy, Jack in his element, talking about friends, teaching, more formal than a bar or walking, splendid. Gave us new eyes. Heard his poems at churches, bars, in the park. Voice like music, down and dirty, angel on his back. Never never got tired of them. He never got tired. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night. "Wanna go in?" He peeked. "Nah, that's all set up for one guy. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlinghetti's on painting/poster with a scrawl of poets. Loved Harvey Vincent Silver like a son. Rode up on the Delta, rode to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me--it didn't hurt. I miss him, don't you?
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, sitting in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We must-uv walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Always the Bronx, right here at home. Bought cheap breakfasts. Classy free events--Christo, Philip Levine--always introduced me. Two nights teaching art classes: he knew them all. Room full of joy, Jack in his element, talking about friends, teaching, more formal than a bar or walking, splendid. Gave us new eyes. Heard his poems at churches, bars, in the park. Voice like music, down and dirty, angel on his back. Never never got tired of them. He never got tired. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night. "Wanna go in?" He peeked. "Nah, that's all set up for one guy. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlinghetti's on painting/poster with a scrawl of poets. Loved Harvey Vincent Silver like a son. Rode up on the Delta, rode to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me--it didn't hurt. I miss him, don
Jack was simply--and not so simply--the best. Walking down Market Street during the gas shortage yelling, "Get out of your cars and walk. You're fucking fools, sitting in line." Pt. Reyes, on a 12-mile hike, a steep stretch, a growl, "That's enough. We must-uv walked 8 blocks..."--cooked liver and onions at Kay McDonough's instead. Always the Bronx, right here at home. Bought cheap breakfasts. Classy free events--Christo, Philip Levine--always introduced me. Two nights teaching art classes: he knew them all. Room full of joy, Jack in his element, talking about friends, teaching, more formal than a bar or walking, splendid. Gave us new eyes. Heard his poems at churches, bars, in the park. Voice like music, down and dirty, angel on his back. Never never got tired of them. He never got tired. Gave him my Hopi ring first time we met. Seemed right. Passed a Buddhist temple one night. "Wanna go in?" He peeked. "Nah, that's all set up for one guy. Have to make my own temple." Packed lunch one day to eat in minipark downtown. It rained. "Let's go to Jack-in-the-Box," he said. Shouted, "We got real food, see? You gonna eat that crap when you could eat real food?" Benefit for Goodman, he put my name next to Ferlinghetti's on painting/poster with a scrawl of poets. Loved Harvey Vincent Silver like a son. Rode up on the Delta, rode to Half Moon Bay to go to bookstore, laughed at me--it didn't hurt. I miss him, don't you?
Still my question: I GOT A CHICKEN IN THE OCEAN I GOT A TURKEY IN THE SEA from which of Jack's poems do those lines come ? jlandry@umassd.edu
why dont you show his parents names
why dont you show babe ruth parents names
why dont you show babe ruth parents names
how did he die
Thanks to all those who have contributed to this site - it's great! Lorena Cassady, please contact me asap. Love, Alan Massie: create26@hotmail.com
I THINK YOUR POETRY THING WOULD BE GREAT IF YOU INCLUDE MORE INTRESTING GETAILS. CRYSTAL
The dead, the dead, It's the God damn dead who I miss the most.
I was astounded to accidentally find this site, and thrilled because of my love for Jack Micheline(I read/sang songs with him, his last reading) to see him so deservedly (he did not feel that - yet knew how many in the Underground loved him best of all the BEATS) - honored as he is here, to see his poetry!!!! Thank you for this beautiful site which I will immediately get to Frank Moore who has LUVER.com radio and eroplay.com sites (3 times netscape world art awards) - because Frank, a formidable poet, philsopher, writer, performance artist - has so loved the poetry of Jack Micheline and two of his students, also my close friends who were with me when I performed with Jack, so loved his poetry that it took us to the Jan Kerouac benefit which was indeed close to Jack's heart, I wrote a poem about that performance "don't bitch no more keroauc' (publ. Academic Journal- 1994 DISCOURSE) - I read it with some BEATS reading(not a beat myself, I was composing and performing music/songs/shows in the 60's time) for Jack's unveiling at the book store, sf(oh, I DO know the name, on the tip of my tongue) Jack's mural on the wall. He didn't know me that well that, knew me as a "pretty lady to hug" but we only really knew each other's art that last reading at Soma(?) Cafe. So I was the last to read after Allen Cohen and others, when he sort of patted me on the head and said, "now she wants to read a little something for us" - then I let him have it! Belted out the Kerouac poem!!! (as jazz poet) and he leaped into the air after saying "THAT HAS TO BE PUBLISHED!" I would like to think it was a comment on the poem but it was his caring so much that that program finally get publicity!! They could not get any publicity they tried for, though of course Ken Kesey, Babbs, Piri Thomas (superb) and so many others were there. My friends and the poets at my poetry series THE WHOLE NOTE will hear especially on June 25, anniversary reading by contributors for huge HD MOE Anthology (The Beanery, 2925 College Berkeley - 7:00) - I will take announcements of this site and pass them to our popular Black m.c. of many series (simultaneously!) Paradise- excellent poet and knowledgable, he will send it to his lists, his life is poetry!!! It was a beautiful memorial for Jack (I read, more 'down home' more telling a funny story from that reading time/art show in SF with him and people always know, I'm going to say something from the heart, but not one of those speaking magnificently, don't misunderstand me, the speakers that day, had all the love in the wolrd for Jack, I would never forget the intensity of Jack Hirschman who spoke so wonderfully, and q. r. hand who said: When I heard Jack Micheline in New York --- he corrected once on this and said "I don't mean when I heard him, I mean when I HEARD him for the first time, it changed my poetry forever!!!!" Such were the wonderful people speaking who loved Jack Micheline. And knew him well. The walls of timidity were broken down that day in the Abandoned Church, people who were friendly dropped their shyness and hugged closely, all boundaries gone. And in the basement area, the large tv with the large handsome man BELLOWING his poems. Well, as is my way, so many words, but I was more heartwarmingly surprised than I can say, to discover this site this evening, and will call my dear friend (and how she loved Jack!) Eileen Kaufman tomorrow, and will give her info from the site. She has archives of course, she has told me of special gifts - including a painting, from Jack - they had many long talks together when she lived near him in SF. She is living in a nice home with friends of mine in the Richmond Hills, always working with her writing, finishing autobiography (never lazy kicking back - talking to the homeless and all those things I do on my many walks in Berkeley) - if she isn't following her heart listening to Eric Clapton, and opera and all, she's playing the piano, learning new classical music, sharing her songs with me, coming to my Poetry series --- or we just run around like 'two flower children' together, a bit mischievous or go to hear (free!) wonderful Steve Lacy trio here from France! I can't wait to show her this site!!!!!!!! Oh, you didn't say to write a 'book' - I have on the wall, one of the photos of Jack and myself, from that last reading of his, in fact it was a collage of several photos. One of him I like, but then, I've seen (that memorial day) the most amazing photographs - they just came out of the walls for the occasion - of handsome Jack - I gave Eileen the one from the Newspaper story and wish I still had that. What a wonderful life he lived, truly. He was of the underground, as at the Jan Kerouac benefit, none of the artists performing that night, and I know most of them, let their fame interfere with their intersting personalities, or rob them of being someone who would put a hand on your shoulder (as Ken Kesey said, after losing his son so abruptly and still talked at the Benefit of the stranger who comforted him, putting a hand on is shoulder) - rob them from being anyone but themselves. Jesse aka dorothy jesse beagle (510) 549-9093 jessprez@concentric.net
A fine site, a fine way for people who knew Jack, or admired his work, to reenter his world and make connections there. As for the visitor who asked about Kay MacDonough, I noted recently that she had signed a public open letter posted on the internet, and listed herself as "Kaye McDonough, Hamden, CT Mother, poet, student."
Please remove my e-mail address from your website. I do not want this to be available to the public. Thank you. Diana Kyle
whomever was lookin for fred nettelbeck i see him several times a week and am friends with him. your email was apparently old so couldn't send information to you. so if you see this write me museumguy2002@yahoo.com
Name: William Taylor Jr. http://www.geocities.com/bardamu_67 Jack was a true original...may his spirit live on.
fine works! ciao, rinaldo venezia.italia
Wonderful site for a great American poet!
P.S. from Linda Lerner The last word of my poem that I quoted was omited, so I"ll repet the last lines... should be "scaring the shit out of "lord is my shepherd" America" It was the America that was left out. Hope that this isn't confusing. Now with Jack's poems available & this site, maybe the MFA robot clones will see what a real poem is.
Linda Lerner llerner@mindspring.com Sat. Nov. 30, 2002 (Not sure the first one I sent in went through) It was Andrew Gettler, one of the originals like Jack...could cut through to the "it" in anything... who first turned me on to Jack Micheline. I spent an incredible day with him when I was in S.F. in '96. Like Andrew he saw with his own eyes, & wrote "The eye is connected to the heart" in a letter to me. No one I heard before or since could read with such force. I wrote a poem about my experience of meeting jack Micheline that day, and hearing him read, a day when when I also met Jack Hirschman... "Men called Jack." It concludes with "outlaws/madmen fighting/ what straightjackets imagination/refusing to be herded/to green pastures/return its soul to America/and damned for it/men called Jack/colorists/painting red and/green/murals on dullness/scaring the shit/out of/"lord is my sherherd" America." Maybe now with his poems collected & this site the MFA robot clones will know what a real poem is.
bravo b.froidefond@wanadoo.fr
Wonderful sight your site. Loved the few jack micheline i came across, and now this... thank you
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I am from Austria and I hope you will contiue thie page. I like very much, even I am so far away. Elias Schneitter - Tyrol, Austria
I simply don't know why I came back to this site tonight...must be the mole on my right arm, or serendipity, or a love for my search for armour whilst readying for battle against the asshole forces of hypocrisy. I know! I emailed poets back in Berkeley tonight and had them on my mind during the writing of this poem by me, Harry Scott Boggs (hidden from the dark forces under the guise of ;Rhoade). Jack's buddy George Tirado of Road Kill Press might remember me as "Gene Scott".... Like One of the Family You've grown up so much! And the time you spent working on yourself has paid off... you're so hot, and pretty and handsome, with your hair like that and your skin treated like fine pearl surfaces and your threads...just right. Lavish upon us! You're like one of the family and your sign in the crowd stands out with large, bright letters. So ready to join with your brothers and sisters in what matters: dancing and partying and making music and beautiful love. And peace, peace for the rest of your life. You're so talented and beautiful at your age. Welcome to the family, the family of flesh and bone and spirit. Welcome to the struggle to become perfect: welcome to Utopia. A few little things ahead will inspire you with new understanding. The dance party and get-down step down you're used to will be a weapon to save the family, to save your brothers and sisters. For it's a hidden battle, but you have the looks and the figure and the brains to figure it out, baby. You have the balls and the strength. It's all your's and it's free, this party. Get drunk on the victory before it happens, because if you love to party, the Age of Aquarius is just the place you're deserving of. You will walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, laughing and boozing. All bullets, radioactive poisons, and anthrax dust will stop millimeters from your lovely pink flesh. Your firm, wet thighs will cinch and buckle the frame of the monster trying to defrock you. These things will occur because you have been chosen for this family: the Compassionate Humans of Earth. Things will occur that are new to you, but you will feel a familiarity when they approach. Like the chant "We will not let President Bush go through!" Like the darkness in the disco when the police squads knock down the doors and the family all just links arms. All as one, we fall to the floor in a fake episode: Billy, and Sylvia, and Frankie, and mom, and Dr. King, and Rage Against the Machine, and Rosa Parks, and Mahatma, and Tod, and ;Rhoade, and Jesus, and Ralph Bunche, and John Lennon, and Marvin Gaye, and Sylvia Plath, and Kate Millet, and Joan Armatrading, and little Juanita, and Little Shin-Shin, and all the compassionate members of the family whom you may or may not yet have met. So many more. All singing and praying and dancing and feasting and laughing and repeating "We won't let the war go through!" Non-violence will be the answer to truncheons, smiley faces will be deployed against bayonets. This is what being a high-fashion model really is all about: Utopia. The best possible world, under God and under Goddess. So brown bag it to the next party. It may be inside, outside, or in the boardroom where votes are cast. Just don't let the party end until the Fat Guy sings and his ol' lady will pull him off the stage for us. God knows, she's the one to give him the crook. I'll take responsibility for giving the crook to the President to get him off the stage. Nonviolently. Through persistence in telling the truth. I'm a member of the family. With you. Sister. Brother. ;Rhoade 2/8/03 Orlando, FL
Great website, but don't let it rot. Update it with some of Micheline's other writings, please. I'd love to see his short stories!
I remember Jack from my brief time at NYU in 1967/68. I met him at a coffeehouse on Tompkins Square Park called the Blind Justice; I was scribbling poems in my notebook, and he asked to see what I was writing. Jack told me about the open readings at St. Mark's Church in the Bowery, and encouraged me to read my poems there. It was an incredible experience for a 20-year-old poet to read in the presence of, and along with someone like Jack Micheline. I remember one poem he rad there about "Fat Annie". "Annie was fat/She had legs like pillars/Annie wanted a steady lover." Was this poems ever published anywhere? I would love to read it again. He was extremely kind to me, and protective, recognizing that as naive as I was, I was a disaster waiting to happen. He would walk me back to the dorm, hang out in the coffeehouse--making sure I didn't go somewhere dangerous by myself. And he never had an ulterior motive. This was the late 60's, the sexual revolution, everybody was sleeping with everybody--and he never was anything but a gentleman with me. Rare for those days. I seem to remember that his health wasn't great back then, and also that he was working in some kind of factory (or at least that's what he told me.) He seemed incredibly old to me--he must have been at least forty! I still have the poem I wrote abut him, and I still think it's a good poem.
Got here because of looking up Dr.Generosity's bar where I spent a lot of time in the early 70's. Wonder if it still exists? Anyone who remembers that time, please lt me know
Did Jack Micheline hang out with Byron Hunt? I was told that Byron gave Ginsberg a few lines for HOWL when they wandered around the cityscape of San Francisco together. Any truth in that? Kirby at kibs33@yahoo.com
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I'll trade anyone, five BART Trains, and one Caldecott Tunnel, for just one more poem..........
I came to this site from a link that one of my friends gave me. I tried reading Kerouac's On The Road, and really didn't like it. But since my friend went through all the trouble to send me the link and said that Jack Micheline was his favorite author, I decided to check him out. I really enjoyed reading this site. I liked the poem he wrote 'chasing kerouac's shadow'. Normally I don't care about poetry, but this one really struck me. He seemed to be looking for the same thing I am now. Great poem.
i love that potery amd ill tell all of my freind about it thatnk 4-leting me read it.
Idon't know if the poem on the main page is any good or not, but i like it. It sounds a little like Kerouac's prose, but i guess that is no surprise. Right now i need poetry,WE need poetry. Thanks Jack.
Hey I think it is great that the other "Jack" getting his due...Great Site... Cactus
I don't know Jack. And I never met Jack Keroac. But I took care of Neal Cassidy the week before he left for Mexico and died there. I fed him and everyone else in the house and got him and Bukowski and Bryan beer when they asked for it. It was the "summer of love" but I didn't know about love... I was only 17. I didn't really even know about sex. And the Merry Pranksters were just a group of people in the Bay area people around me talked about. I liked the Beatles. It means more now however. Cassidy and Bukowski were both polite people and very appreciative for any attention they got. I was a lot like that. It was refreshing up against the "give it to me now" generation in the music industry which poured out so much money to publishing venues which kept us alive. But I wanted to be a Rock and Roll star so who would've guessed I would've ended up an Art Director and finally a metaphysical teacher. Bukowski said in "notes" that I was either "dead or joined a rock and roll band or something"... yeah... something like that. Buk hid behind his words like so many people. He wasn't rough or crude, he was a gentle loving soul who felt empty except for the pain. I stumbled in here and I am not sure why I wrote this but I hope you find it amusing. Aloha, Derek Lamar
Hi this Gordon Taylor from Infectious Unease Radio www.infectiousunease.com Gordon@infectiousunease.com Australia. I have been looking for a page like this for a long time. I first came across Jack Micheline work when I found a poem of his called "Poet Of The Street" in the book The Portable Beat by Ann Charters. I loved this poem. It hit me hard and i was taken by his words. I knew of him through reading about Kerouac. I then came across a book called The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry. Where in Australia could I find his work. I write my self and have been performing for many years. I always wonderded how Jack Micheline would read "poets of the streets" and other works. Keep up the wonderful work I will be telling all my contacts about your page Kind Regards Gordon Taylor of Infectious Unease Radio
I read poetry on the Village circuit with Jack in the late 50's and early 60's. Remember him well. Hazel Ford
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Hi, I'm very happy to have found this web-site. I will absorb all its information and hope to be in contact with you when I begin my research Micheline and other uncanonized Beat poets. I personally know several people who knew Jack Micheline quite well: Jack Hirschman, who recently read a poem dedicated to Jack Micheline, David Meltzer and David Henderson. All the best for your work! Christine Meilicke
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Time to get back with you guys. How's George Tirado? God bless his soul, he was there on the street in San Francisco this past March, '03 to protest the war. I saw him in the chanting/rousing circle near Market and Larkin. Jack Michelene loves the guy. George doesn't give up or cop out so easily. He's at peace with the People, defends the People--and with not a bunch of dough or publicity. Here in Orlando (where Kerouac lived in '57-'58) a journalist is putting together a book about the Beat influence in Florida (for what it's worth). It'll be out this winter. Find out more by logging onto the Jack Kerouac Project website (same selling for the site), and while you're at it, you radical poets download an application or at least write a letter or call to get in on the Jack Kerouac Project's artist-in-residence program here in Orlando. You'll live in the Kerouac cottage for a few months and just write away. Then there'll be a party and a reading for you. We just gotta have more Bay Area radical influence around here, the Republican nuts are just walking all over me and my allies and I can't go back home just yet to Berkeley. Somebody help us out! Come vidit us and bring the West Coast legacy of kick-ass poetry with you. Just try applying, it's not that hard to get accepted if you've gotten a couple of chapbooks done and can write worth a damn. They kind of cycle around the world and get all kinds of people into the residency program who I didn't know, had never heard of, and will probably never hear of again. Harry Scott Boggs
Jack Micheline gets his own street name. San Francisco, North Beach (Pardee Alley). Celebration @ 11am - SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 2003. See ya there ~jazznoir.
I like the site. The fact that you have a web site for Jack is great. Those of us who admire his work, writing and painting thank you. -earl leclaire
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I think it is beautiful to keep the spirit of Jack alive. We should all have this kind of dedication when we die. I did see him perform once at The Onyx in Los Angeles. It is a crime that he is not looked at as a great american writer, but this just lets me know what is in store for me. Michael Grover/www.museumofpoetry.com
wonderful site. I am writing from Austria, Europe. I would be very glad, to get more informations about the poet Jack Micheline Elias Schneitter
wonderful site. I am writing from Austria, Europe. I would be very glad, to get more informations about the poet Jack Micheline Elias Schneitter
Micheline is a truly incredible, sublime poet. Can't believe I didn't discover him until I was in my late 30s. Poetry magazine should be printing one of his poems on the cover of every single issue, now that they have all that money.
I've always been a fan of Jack Kerouac, but never knew of Jack Micheline unitl today. I accidentally stumbled upon the genius that everyone else has been acquainted with. I am in love with his writing.
i often wondered
I'm with you Jack this ocean morning high in the Mountains of Blue ... jus' west of 'ere, case you're innarested (as old Bull'd say ... did say.) From far over the Tasman Sea comes that pigeon ... pitiful li'l hunka plumage whose wing you kissed ... resurrected now and flying into my eastern window. --- Jack Ames, Sydney (amesjack@hotmail.com)
jack blessed jackie silver rode the kali wave and had the perfect death and full hard big inspired inspiring poets life. he crossed that muddy river and left us much to dream about, be with those painted angels dogs denizens of this kali underworld. I was blessed to hit the sanfrankali in early i980s and be in and around michelines circuit got blessed to hear him rad poesys sing songs at bars and kushs cloud house then on valencia street. a number of jackie-poo memories, a favorite one being at waterfalls flat offa haight street, around dinner time, me there looking for beer herb or something jack there had brought up ice cream for the kids who lived at the flat and while it was being dished out like manna from heaven and the kids squirrely with excite about the yum yuym to come jack sat there with beatific smile saying the mantra over and over kids kids kids kids.... bless you jack you mensch you beauytiful saint of poetry and bellringer of to be fully huyman bless you on your journey
What a lovely and loving site. This is the poetry that made me ineterested in poetry. Poeple's poetry.
My first visit - having met Jack M here in Amsterdam many years ago, I'm sorry to hear he's no more among our Earthlings, though his Pure Spirit will continue to fight the imopurities everywhere. As a poet and anthologist, I included one of his poems in handwriting in the portfolio I made for a dutch printer, called SCHRIJFTAAL (written language)starting 'Everywhere I go is beauty' - I just recently entered the WWW-universe, this discovery I made through the serendipity.li website, linking him to Ganesh Baba, one of the other spiritual minds I've met.egards from Simon Vinkenoog, Amsteredam. My website, recently installed: www.simonvinkenoog.nl.
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what state is has The Jack Micheline Foundation?
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i walked beyond midnight with Jack in Bloomington Indiana in like 1998 or close to that...he ate steak i ate carrots he showed me some fingerpaintings told of the old scene...but really i just remember how close he was to the world...it was a chance encounter but now i know it was like crossing-over into dimension...it was divine...it was real...and it had everything to do with poets-Mat Gould...i am my own ghost
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Name: Teresa Marta Costa, manxcat12491@yahoo.com, Hurley, NY, USA, September 13, 2004,7:58 PM EDT. I first met Jack through the poet George Montgomery. It was back in 1978 at The Cedar Tavern in NYC. Jack Micheline walked in * George introduced me into him, & then the guy who played the detective in the original movie "The Blob" walked in after Jack & George introduced me into him also. But the few words said between me & Jack Micheline, were unforgettable. "So you're a poet too?" " Yes I said. "Good we need more Poets".
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