Ira Cohen 2003, photo taken by Georg Gatsas
“Working at the Buddha factory, I dreamt one day I would be free”. Poet, publisher, photographer, film-maker, legendary “Beat” presence, Ira Cohen died last night in Manhattan. He was 76. For more on his considerable life-time achievement see here. For videos of him reading his poetry see here, here, and here. Nina Zivancevic’s interview with him for Jacket magazine may be read here. R.I.P. Ira.
Ira Cohen’s obituary in The Guardian
Ira Cohen’s obituary in The New York Times
Ira Cohen 2012 memorial in the Jewish Daily Forward
Allan Graubard on Ira Cohen for the European Beat Studies Network
Ira Cohen–In Memoriam
by Valery Oisteanu
What’s next? whispers Ira and becomes invisible
Scream no more, from unquenched fate
We’ll see you on the other side
A Jewish Shaman walks away
While the big flutes are silent,
The extinct cactus remains still
The bells are thunderstruck
Our holy man of the straw mats
Melts benignly into the molecular earth
After an endless battle with himself
A distorted shadow in search of Ganesh Baba
From Chelsea all the way to Kathmandu
365 steps up to the Temple Swayambhu
Kumbha Mella traveler overran by sadhus
Blowing a dijiridou, jazz convulsions
With potent magic mushrooms
Psychedelic carnal lovers evaporating
Disappearing on the magic carpet to the Kasbah
Lamenting in the sub-ground Ethiopian churches
Following the holy wind into the dessert
Eating majoon, riding the sunset
Tormented musicians of joujouka
Helter-skelter from Tangier to Crete
What’s next boychick? What’s hip?
Poetry shrunk down to tiny crumbs
Farfetched nightmares no more!
An avalanche of absurd nothingness
Yisgadal v’yiskadash sh’may rabo
Sufi in Ira’s coffee, Shiva in Ira’s tea
Buddha in his wine, Yahweh in his tap water!
Last chillum for trans-hypnosis
The king of Thunderbolt goes to sleep!