Shanna Baldwin Moore:

Shanna Baldwin Moore: well. let's see—originally from the tall tree country of Washington state, I surfed the tree tops in the wind... My grandmother was a poet in Greenwich Village and inspired me to write...I am also a painter in oil and this was what connected me to the beat poets—I was the art director of the gas house in Venice—we had poetry readings to jazz and learned this awesome sound of music to poetry... came to Hawaii 36 years ago for a vacation and I'm still vacationing...a lot of my artwork was of Pele the goddess of the volcano and now I write for her...my Hawaiian poetry can be found at "my town".  Hope to have a book out by the end of the year

Tribute to Tony Scibella

Safe In Our Celler

 

Oh soft black night
of unheard prayer
the lady walks
and does not care
she does not know
your path that guides
nor does she hear
what darkness hides
cold and coatless
With windblown hair
The lady walks
her throat is bare
your darkest street
hides her fear
the open doorway
calls her near
enter in the warm lit room
the poets there
warm her bones
with words that care

Venice 1959

 

 

The Lady

 

magic memories
of the Lady
sounds of an alto sax
echoes Billie...Billie...
down the cobblestone breezeway
the cellar lights soft
he snaps his fingers
to the rhythm of the night
the poet in the moonlight
blows another riff
for the lady...softly

 

 

Sound Hits Paper

 

Midnight
on the Gas House Roof
The poets are out
quiet streets
miniatures in the moonlight
the breeze blows
the cobwebs go
below me a poet waits
his pen in hand
a dance of words blowing around him
cosmic dust settles
and stick to his little black book
it was willed
the way the words fall
ah...The fall of the poets ax
as sound hits paper

Shanna Baldwin
The Gas House Roof
1959

 

Shanna Baldwin Moore, US—Photo Haiga

A Gallery of Venice Beach Photos

 

 

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