MoroccoPens
Recently,
Morocco Pens had a chance to sit down with the American Language Center
instructor and the host of
the upcoming Spring Aspirations event at Campus Universitaire Ait Melloul,
Iskandar Soekardi, to ask him a few
questions. The newly permanent resident of Agadir met us at a seaside getaway
where he was catching up on some books of Prophetic Narrations, Spiritual Etiquette,
logic, and poetry.
He was at
the door when I arrived, sitting alone on pillow amongst a few others strewn
across the floor, looking certainly foreign: white t-shirt, blue slacks and a
blue jelaba hung over his right shoulder, his face part-Bruce Lee, part-young
Johnny Depp, short, disheveled black hair with an uncertain part. In his fairly
large hands were prayer beads wrapped around a silver pen, his left hand
fondling the beads’ tassle as we spoke.
Soekardi
was welcoming but certainly uncomfortable; we’d negotiated the interview on the
condition of a short
duration. He would have probably been more enthusiastic if he were allowed to speak
of his homeschooled ten year old
daughter or the interests of his young twin girls. But we wanted the lowdown on
the American of Indonesian descent and his activities on the Moroccan coast. We
had him under the bright afternoon sun coming through the room windows.
MP: How would you introduce Iskandar Soekardi as
a poet to our readers?
IS: (laughs) I am reluctant to call
myself a poet. I definitely do write
poetry, but I find myself too in awe of the greats. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why I am
not so prolific.
MP: The greats?
IS: Rumi, shaykh Muhammad ibn al Habib, William
Blake, Robert Frost, Langston Hughes, Dickinson…(nods his head) Wow.
Mountainous. Just so
wondrous. So when I recall these names,
I say ‘Yeah, no, you are not a poet.’ It
is not discouraging to the process, however, rather inspiring. They are part of the drive in everything I
attempt to do.
MP: What does poetry mean to you?
IS: God, it means so much, has meant so
much. When I visited the tomb and mosque
of Rumi in Konya, Turkey, I felt the poetic presence in that place, the way
people lived so gracefully, the green surrounding it, in nature and in the
prophetic metaphor. A constant springing to life. I remember drawing
inspiration from a large turtle slowly making its way through the graves of
those I imagined to be saintly. Everything was so alive. I’m sure
it had a lot to do with the blessings bestowed upon Maulana Rumi. رحمه الله and his poetry.
That experience was life-changing, and it was enhanced even more when I started
to attend majalis (gatherings) of dzikr (invocations) and qasa’id (poetic
chanting). Experiencing the reading of
the Burda and the Diwan of al-Habib with teachers who brought out from the
verses much wisdom was transforming for me. I loved those gardens of
remembrance, and I still do.
MP: When did you start writing poetry?
IS: I don’t remember exactly when. When I was younger, I used to write a lot of
song lyrics. I played around with
various genres of poetry as well, Haiku, slam, some classical structures, but
there’s nothing I’m particularly proud of or worthy of reciting.
MP: Did you have specific themes that you wrote
about?
IS: I think much of my earlier poems had to do
with catharsis, trying to work the words to get out of darker corners in my
life, places I felt oppressive. There
were also the themes of love, heartbreak. I guess more socio-political topics
than political.
MP: You mentioned songs?
IS: I released an album of music and poetry
called “Peace and Puisi” in Jakarta a long time ago. I read some poems with an ambient backdrop. There
were also my attempts at singing in new wave and smooth jazz compositions. It got some radio airplay. I thought that was a definite achievement because
much of what was being played at that time was disposable pop, really
mindless. (laughs) Not much has changed these days either,
right?
MP: Have you thought about publishing a
collection of your poems?
IS: I have two self-published chapbooks, Grove
Green and Gift, that are now out-of-print.
They were offered to audiences who attended my poetry readings. As for a future publication, I have no plans.
It’s not something I aspire to, either.
If it happens, that’s another matter, then great.
MP:
Is the teacher and the poet inside Iskandar one and the same?
IS: I certainly hope that what I do as a teacher
has the ability to inspire. But one and
the same? It’s difficult to say. As a teacher, one of my main goals is to
assist students to clarity in English and to strive for deeper meaning. I’d love that be said about my verses. I don’t know. You tell me.
MP: Does poetry have a future in Morocco?
IS: Poetry has always been a part of the weave of
culture in Morocco. As an example, before I moved here to Morocco, I was
engaged in the classical text, The Helping Guide of sidi Abdul Wahid Ibn Ashir,
the Moroccan scholar. Here is a text of
aqeedah, fiqh and tassawuf (doctrine, jurisprudence and Sufism) all in metered
poetic verses and for centuries, it was on the tongues of most Moroccans. It is still taught but unfortunately not to
the masses. It is extremely beneficial
for understanding religion and spirituality, and I think some of that has to do
with the delightful rhyming experience.
Poetry
and creative expression just need a revival of sorts. That’s what is behind what we are trying to
do with events like Spring Aspirations.
We want to end the “Poetry is boring” statements by bringing together
creative types who will prove otherwise. They can show how they’ve been inspired and hopefully transfer that
spirit to their audiences.
(looks
out the window with wonderment) I’ve
been thinking a lot about Italo Calvino’s chapter title “A Network of Lines
that Enlace” especially that word “enlace.” You get this idea of wrapping
something with lace. And “lace” is something
delicate, delightful to touch and look at, something that is mysterious, elegant,
sultry, just feels good. We want a network of that.
MP: We appreciate your answers. I know you have a busy schedule, so thank you
for your time.
IS: (wipes gently the cover of a book on his lap)
No, I should thank you.
No comments:
Post a Comment