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From: Larry Kerschner
To: Jampa Dorje (aka Richard Denner)
Sent: Friday, May 25, 2007
Subject: A new poem

Jampa- I hope this finds you well…I have started on a poem about my own conception (I know--weird) and I wonder if there is a standard amount of time between death and rebirth or is it considered indeterminate? Also when we lived in Ketchikan you used to get a cake from your parents that was mostly made of nuts. Do you by chance have the recipe? Peace,
Larry

The task of poetry is to overcome government
                             —Brendan Behan

On May 25, 2007, Richard Denner wrote:

not so weird, writing on the green walls of the womb, actually an interesting foray into consciousness, sure, forty-nine days, usually, between death and rebirth, in tibetan tradition, there are three bardos, or intermediate states, which describe the primary transitions through various experiences of embodiment and reincarnation, however, it is not to be thought that the bardos exist outside, as they are the content of our experience, from the onset of our experience, even now, as we wander in samsara, and here i am paraphrasing khencen palden sherab rinpoche, did you ever live in berkeley?

On May 25, 2007, Larry Kerschner wrote:

Thanks, I lived in Berkeley for about 6 weeks after I left Alaska in 1972 but don't recall writing anything there. Do you by chance have that recipe?

On May 25, 2007, Richard Denner wrote:

i asked my mom, and she says she gave the recipe to my sister in virginia,
i'll get it from her and send it to you
here are some questions
what kind of memories do you have of berkeley
what was the feel of the street, where did you drink coffee,
where did you buy books, what kind of vibes did you experience
what were you writing about during that time
did you connect with the poetry scene in any way

On May 25, 2007 Larry Kerschner wrote:

My memories are fuzzy. There was a couple who lived in Ketchikan and for the life of me I cannot remember either of their names but I borrowed a bass recorder (with delusions of learning to play it) before moving to Fairbanks. They split up and she was living in Berkeley and I stopped to return it. She was living in a communal house on Telegraph Ave. I'm ashamed to say all I remember of her is that she only had an orgasm by nipple suckling and I got head lice from her. I drank coffee at a restaurant (Mediterranean?). I recall Berkeley as being warm and laid back. It was probably late Summer 1972. She took me to see someone who was a meditation teacher of some form. I sat down to meditate with this person and it seemed as though we were jousting on a metaphysical plane...there was lightning and fireworks and we moved upward from plane to plane. It was unlike any other meditative experience I had had up to that time. He wanted me to stay and study with him but it didn't seem to be the place for me at that time. I didn't connect with the poetry scene at all. I remember sitting in the cafe with my notebook trying to write but I don't recall anything specific. I've never been one to be very adventurous in travel or meeting new people. I have always been better at just watching to see what happens and going along for the ride. I was still trying to process what I had learned of philosophy (David Hume et al) . . . that you couldn't know. I had left Fairbanks with a vague plan to head to Guatemala. After I left Berkeley ended up in Del Rio Texas where I ran into my ex-wife and had my Jesus Born Again experience…that ended my trip to Guatemala. I don't know that I have anything to say about Berkeley that would be useful for your project. Thanks for getting the recipe. For some reason the memory of those cakes came back to me recently and I have been wondering how they were made...what binding agent etc. Namaste.

On May 31, 2007, Richard Denner wrote:

mornin' larry
in my mind's eye, i have a image of you sitting in the mediterranean cafe with an open notebook, not writing anything, and it reminded me of how so many of us sat there with that open notebook, writing or not writing anything down . . . . i wonder if you could fill out that picture a bit, some of the backstory, because, in my imagination, you are still really sitting there, and i can add this portrait to my mural of the berkeley daze

and the thing you might well have been writing was the first stanzas of your excellent, long poem "military diplomacy from wounded knee to afghanistan" or the cave drawings of your last trip through the womb to the bardo of berkeley

from the chair in the bader's house in ketchikan to fairbanks, and then down the alcan hwy to berkeley, what kind of car did you drive? what music did you listen to? how did you feel as a vietnam vet being in the hotbed of radical anti-war activity?

sitting in the med at a marble table, the hiss of the espresso machine at a time when there were no more than three espresso machines in the whole town, dadada da da dadada
you write it

On June 1, 2007, Larry Kerschner wrote:

I have been reading the commentary by Khenchen Palden Sherab Rinpoche. The section on chik-khai bardo where he mentions a scintillating mirage moving across the landscape in the springtime reminds me of the meditation incident I mentioned earlier. It makes me wonder if an unenlightened person can accidentally wander into a bardo briefly while meditating. He states that some people refuse to admit that they are dead. I have always had a small feeling way back in my mind that I died in Vietnam and all since has been an illusion (other combat vets I have talked to have had similar feelings) and in one sense the "I" that went to Vietnam did not return. The experience changes you at a core level. Here's a poem about that
http://voicesinwartime.org/Home/Article/DisplayArticle.aspx?
AuthorID=109911&TypeofContent=Article&ArticleType=1#369861.

I've recently started sending out some of my poems for possible publication and am pleased to say that a number have been accepted. Three of them at http://www.outsiderwriters.org/content/view/290/1/ and one at

http://voicesinwartime.org/Home/Article/DisplayArticle.aspx?
AuthorID=109911&TypeofContent=Article&ArticleType=1#369861

Also had "How to perform a war" published in the recent newspaper of the Vietnam Veterans Against the War. "O my God" and "Speechless tongues" and "Vision of Amos" will be in the July issue of Drama Garden.

The science of war leads one to dictatorship pure and simple. The science of nonviolence can alone lead one to pure democracy. —M. Gandhi

Richard Denner wrote:

Here is the recipe you asked for.

1 lb. Walnuts (4 cups)
1 lb. Brazil nuts
1 lb. Chopped dates
1 c. Sugar and yolk of 4 eggs
1 c. Flour
2 tsp. Baking powder sifted with the flour
4 Egg whites - beaten separately - Add stifley beaten
egg whites last.

Bake at 350 for 1 hour.