Bagism: Art & Poetry

Exhibit 4


As an artist of many talents, John Lennon has undoubtedly inspired countless numbers of people to explore their own artistic talents. Here then are some of the creations done by John's fans in his honor. If you'd like to contribute something you've created, please read the guidelines for submission.

The Beatles
by Tara Bradford

The Beatles This was a pencil drawing I drew last year [1996]. It has done well in many high school competitions, and also in a local college show. By the time I got to John (I drew one Beatle at a time, starting with George, John was the last) I was very frustrated and doubting my abilities. John is by far the hardest to draw correctly. People would definitely notice if I slacked off on this part. Sort of jokingly I addressed John saying 'I would hate to disrespect your memory by really messing up here...so how about watching over me so I get it right?' And at various times in the development I felt someone looking over my shoulder, but when I turned no one was there. A bit freaky, but true...I swear.


"John" series
by Colin Ryono

John #1 John #2
John #4 John #3
These are four of the nine drawings I have done of John throughout several years. They and the others hang over my bed as my own personal shrine to John and his infinite legacy, a constant welcome reminder of his life and his impact on mine. These were drawn from pictures found in several different books, and pencil and charcoal were used to create them. As for the titles, they are (clockwise from top-left): "John #1", "John #2", "John #3", and "John #4".


Bagism
by Tomi Tervakangas

Bagism I drew this sometime in 1995. I got the idea for this picture after seeing one of John's drawings the net; probably on Sam Choukri's former John Lennon site.


John Lennon
by Bill Safsel

John Lennon This was an acryllic painting, which was scanned and touched up in Photoshop. The painting is actually very long, but I cropped it down. I hope everyone enjoys this.


Lennon
by bill chancellor (bshears)

Lennon I did this on May 29, 1997 on a Macintosh 8500 using Photoshop 3.05. I got the original b/w image from my Beatles Complete Songbook Vol 2.


untitled
by Rain

Just one moment in time -
One moment was all it took.
How sudden our world changed,
Now somber, now foreboding.
What did the Walrus say?
Imagine...Give Peace a Chance...
Never ceding ideals,
Sometimes straight, sometimes silly.
Tantric suggestions with
Oriental straight-woman
Not for us, not for them,
Only both halves of the sky.
Now that silence has lease
Over this troubadour, we
Learn to say good-bye; but
Every morning births new hope -
New ways to play mind games,
New dreamers, not the only
Ones. Maybe we'll listen
Next time, when his soul returns.


The Departure
by Jaina

"The time has come." The Walrus said
And led poor John away,
"Hey!" he said, wriggling in Walrus' grip
"Why can't I stay and play?"
"Because" the thing said paitently
And set a quicker pace
"You're too involved for your own good
lay back, let someone take your place."
And so late that winter night
Against his wish and will
The Lennon-bird took to flight
and is out there flying still.
His perch remains empty.


Hey, Sir (8th of December)
by Anna Carolina Fagundes

lights on -- a person at the middle of the stage

Hey, sir, do you know what day is today? Look at your agenda, you'll see it's december 8th...I am feeling like nothing today. Why should I? The sky is blue, the birds are singing, Christmas is near and everything is OK at my house.

John died today. John will never come back to us. Have you ever listened to him? He was a good singer, a wonderful writer. Oh, don't come and bore me with your pride and your prejudice about rock. He was good. The best of them all. He was the Walrus. Yea, the Walrus. And he died today. 8 of december. Not funny at all.

I was born only a month after. I am unlucky. I listened to all the records, and tried to understand why a person like him were shot down. I guess that nobody will ever know, innit?

It's 8th of December. the skies can be blue, the birds can sing, Christmas is coming but none of these things please me. He is dead. He is with everyone of us but it doesn't help me. I wish I could wake up and hear my mother saying he is coming to give a show in town. I wish I could wake up without hearing the radio saying that the killer is getting out of jail.

You know what, sir? I will stand up again. Like everyday. He sang "starting over", and that's what I have to do. I think he is looking at all of us, and he'd get angry if he sees us moaning and stopping at the middle of the way. We have to carry on, innit, sir? In spite of all the danger, and narrow people like you.

lights off -- someone sings "Starting Over" with musical accompaniment


Small Wire Glasses
by Devin Lennon Sikes

This starts off in Liverpool, England,
In the cold October Rain,
A man named John was born this day,
The world was blessed with his warmth like a day in May,

A harmonica, given by Uncle George,
In which he truly adored,
At fifteen, he headed the Quarrymen,
Knowingly, met Paul, the Walrus,
He kept his emotions not in a bin,
Instead with a toilet seat by his chin,
Gleeing, smiling, far from Dying,
But causing havoc at school,

Chorus:
Your smile gave us all a sense of peace,
Your songs are one for keeps,
You headed the bugs, but you weren't a thug,
You made us calm , from the war in the palms,
Looking thru your small wire glasses,

In came George, along with Best ,
Three years later, Pete was slower than the rest,
John Grew up looking to stars Holly, Cochran and Cliff,
It made him wanna write some really cool riffs,

Now they were John, Paul, George, And Ringo,
Not the Moondogs or Silver any more,
They made girls fall like the calling of "Bingo",
That today I still adore,

Please, Please me, can't you see,
This is only the beginning of the end,
After winning the best new band Grammy,
For John, Cynthia was in,

Chorus:

Come Sixty-four he was working like a dog,
Eight Months after the Kennedy Bomb,
Then came a gift from god,
A son named Julian,
A boy to your name,

In Sixty-seven, after a two year break,
Along came a Marching beat,
They were as high as aroma from a hot cake,
They surpassed the psychedelic feat,
"We are more popular than Jesus",
He went to India, studied Maharishi,
He became a naturalist,
They all became wishy washy,

Chorus

Take a sad song,
And make it better,
In the year of Woodstock,
He married Yoko,
A year later, they refused to talk,

So the English road was released,
And their fans cried,
But John, the furocious beast,
Released "Imagine" , and the world didn't die,

No war, anymore
Lotta peace, so go to sleep

It became Christmas time,
And the war was over,
Everyone gave peace a chance,
Thanks to you,

Chorus

In Seventy-six,
Another gift came,
This time Sean,
Who to you was bright as dawn,

You baked bread,
Nurtured him,
And treated him like a king,
As you watched him play, sitting on the couch in the den,

Along came a bitter December day,
Going to see Julian,
Dear Prudence, saw the sunny skies,
Brightened your day,
An autograph wasn't enough,
Mr. Chapman took a gun,
Which later put him in jail cuffs,

Chorus

That was the day,
Your small wire glasses fell to the ground,
Along with your royal robe and crown,
You taught us Peace, and to stand up,
Too bad you didn't have better luck,

You're where you wanted to be,
Under the sea,
You ask Mr. Chapman was it worth the price?
I think he'd think twice,

In Ninety-four,
You were awarded once more,
You are now at the top of the monarchy,

With no fee,
With your small wire glasses,

Chorus (fading out)


My Tears John
by Robin Sica

It's been 17 years, my tears
How i miss you John
Yes John was just a man
As a child struggling to live
I saw him as much more
You, John, became my escape
You gave me the strength to dream and live on
How sad it is that only my tears come now
My daughter drew a picture of you, my tears
A smile overcame me
She will carry your memory on
Last summer i found a copy of a death certificate at a flea market
The name read John Lennon, my tears
Isn't it sad, my tears
Away from the vendor i walked
sadly sobbing and brushing away, my tears.


Give Peace A Chance For John
by DeraDhun

Give peace a chance
A great man once said.
Becouse someone didn't,
This man is now dead.

Give peace a chance
It is'nt hard to do.
How about some bagism?
And some love to!

Give peace a chance
You will find that it is easy to do.
If you do it,
It just might save you.

Give peace a chance
That means lots of love,
An olive branch,
And the sign of a dove.


Sad Society
by Jason Schmitt

Everlasting is a word which seldom takes a face,
you were a twentieth century man which we can not replace.
>From your brownstone door you perceived
the brighter side of day. You fed us
juicy harmonies in a gutteral sort of way.
Fame has presented nothing, but dim your brightest light.
How did your filament fall out
and collapse ruined to the floor
Why do guns kill the good, and leave the evil for more.


To John
by Supersonic

I caught myself today
wanting to cry
a day late
16 years to short

I stoped myself
Your voice so beautiful
Your love so strong
You'll always play a part in my life

Now your most famous word
So simple and not comples
But it says so much John
Did you know what you were sayin
When you wrote the word on that piece of white paper
Or when you sung it at yer white piano

You've shaped the world Beatle John
You've made it a better place to be
You put it on a record and you made it a hit
That word luv' was 'imagine'

Imagine Lucy in the Sky
The diamonds died with you John on December 8

But your words will live forever
I miss you dear John
Though we never met
I want to say thanx you John Winston Ono Lennon
Thanx you yet.


John Lennon IV
by Jackie Madsen

i think of you
but then it's gone
the things you said
it's been so long

i hear the trees whisper
i know they can see
i spin in circles
why not me?

i start to cry
i can't find you
then you're here
i love you too


The Soul
by Jackie Madsen

The candles flicker in the dead of night
They cast shadows over the mysterious face on the wall
Is it him, or just another lonely soul
Lost without the hope of redemption?

As smoke billows up, curving like mist
Around eyes that have seen the world for what it is
Eyes that pierce you right to the soul

The shadows are dancing, like the demons who have taken you away
The flames go out one by one
Is it you? Finally the victor?
Or just my lonely soul
Looking for an answer?


The After Dark
by Geoff Bartlett

Dear John,
Good day,
How are you up there?,
You are somthing greater now,
like you always wanted.

I looked today at two things at once.
I looked at my first picture,
Then I looked at your last,
I thought about how you must of been,
seeing I was born 3 years after you.
Imagine that.

Well John, do you still remember the phone at Mimi's? The Phone so valued because of the things it has heard. Perhaps you can remember the time when one of your conversations ended with Mimi saying, "Damn you Lennon"!!!...then she slamed the phone down. Can you remember about a miniute later you calling back and saying, "Your still not cross with me Mimi, are you?".

Well John now you are with Stu, Elvis, Morrison, and others. I hope you enjoy it, I will.

Farewell


The Voice
by Teek

In my world of EmptyEye'dSmiles
Haunting Lonely Words
Ordered on me so long ago
That meant nothing to me
I Heard A Sound.

the sound of my generation
the sound of everything important
and brought so much to me
so much to learn and BE
And that sound saved me.

In my world of hate and cynics
Where life was only waiting for death
And everything in between was meaningless
And then was gone
I Heard A Voice.

the voice cried in my language
the voice understood my pain
and the voice knew everything that was to be known
And I learned from that voice.

In my world of change and loss
Where only one thing seems true
And Forever
And that one person has meant more to you than anyone
I Heard A Shot.

that shot killed my truest hope
that shot's blood stained my past
and in one single shot
the answer was lost
And strength was found, but only in memory

To my dearest John. I was too young to ever know you, however much I feel like I have.


Untitled
by Russell D. Ashman

His aura was like no other,
The things he said could make you shudder.

It was true,
He had much to do.

Even at a glance,
You saw give peace a chance.

Forty years of living,
And still he was giving.

What was his contribution?
He fought against the institution,
To say he wanted a revolution.

He was the first to run,
Using a pun,
To have some fun.

He was no coward,
As a figure he always towered.

Some were dissatisfied,
They themselves criticized,
Thought he had something to hide,
But in effect was self pride.

Why did he go so soon?
He showed all of us, even the goon.

Some tried to be dense,
As a whole they knew he made sense.

He left the world numb,
With the blind leading the dumb,
What would it become?

He taught us a great lesson,
The man called JOHN WINSTON LENNON


British Musuem
by Raymond Le Blanc

this poem is in Dutch

in de statige zalen
originele manuscripten
eerste drukken

Malthus
Shakespeare

en achter glas
in speels schrift
een refrein
uit Lennon's
In My Life

II

een enkeling schuift
langs
naoorlogse
prenten
van Japanse
kunstenaars

omringd door
kunst
knapt de suppoost
een uiltje


8 december 1980
by Raymond Le Blanc

this poem is in Dutch

een twintiger doodde
grijnzend
en liet
de jaren zestig
bloedend achter
op straat

weet je wat je net
hebt gedaan ?
vroeg een haastig
toegesnelde
portier

ik heb net
John Lennon
neergeschoten

-alsof daar alles mee is gezegd-


You gotta be strong
by Anna Carolina Fagundes

A friend and I, walking down the street.

- Cold day.
- Like everyday. Why are you on this mood?
- Don't know. It's like...like I was empty.
- Fought with someone? Lost someone?
- I guess...I guess that I lost someone. A long long time ago. Ten years ago.
- And you still feel it? Let it be, folk! Life goes on...for everyone.
- You don't understand. It was ten years ago today. I remember exactly...I was sat down here when I listened...on the radio...and since then everytime I come back here it's just like a gunshot.
- Friend. I know about who you're talking. You have to remember...that if he was here, it was not in wain. You gotta be strong. All the time you gotta be strong... 'Cause, you know, he was strong. He was left alone, you remember?
- ( singing )"Julia...". Yeah I do.
- And even after all, he was strong. And so you must be. Dry your eyes, friend. As I said...life goes on. And we have to lift our heads all the time. 'Cause he taught us to believe. And it's believing that we must go on.


his name
by Briana Eades

his name
his name is simple
common
and short
but one year later it is a word i use lovingly
almost every moment
in my thoughts
in my writing
in my heart
it is the most beautiful name
because it is his name.
it's his heart
purple and fleshy and swollen with blood
that used to beat with such an
insatiable ferver
and his bright moist eyes
that grew small with fear or
passivity
that endears him to me.


untitled
by Briana Eades

John Lennon: the most brilliant, witty, defiant, brash, artistic, clever, original, penetrating, intoxicating, beautiful creature ever created. His face is so expressive, like he possesses some hidden knowledge; he knows the secrets of life. And yet, he could be hurt just like all of us. He needed to be cared for just like all of us. He was weak and selfish just like the best of us. He was human. And I love him for it.


The Case of the Man on the Flaming Pie
by Sir Arthur Codfish Oil

Verily, in times of yore, didst a strange goobnik of a fella appeer to the fledgling Beatles and gave unto them their name. For he sayeth unto them: "You are Beatles with an A", and then he flew off into pie-parts unknown. Lo, and but the Beatles did cavort with rampart alladin, and they didst call many thanks to the departing man on the flaming pie. "Many thanks, Mister Man!" they said, for they called the misterious fellow Mister Man, as no one knew his name, and his origin and abode remained as curious as was his marvelous pie-mobile. Soon everdobby on the aisle was talking about this visitation and giving ever-more fantastic accounts of the man on the flaming pie.

Sometimes later, this odd story did come to the attention of Sir Shetlokk Holes, a distinguished investigator. "What's with this flaming pie beeswax?" he pondulated. Why, if he could discover who this Mister Man really was, maybe they would make a movie about Shetlokk and put his picture on the cover of the "Rolling Stone". And sew, with focus keen, Smedlock Poems did traverse far and wide in search of the noble, mobile pie.

He went to the west, but fount no scent of the burning pastry. He turned and traveled to the east, but he didn't find so much as a crumb that he could use as a klew. Not to be outdone by his bad forturn, Smithlock Combs did then venture the the south, but alas, the story was the same--no one could tell him about the man on the flaming pie.

Smedley pondered some more. "Verily," he spake unto hisself, "I have been to the west, and the east, and even throughout the south, and yet I have fouled no clue to help me unriddle this wravel!" And with two more words (which have gone unrecorded), Shirtlock did head into the frozen northurn regions in his continuing quest to find the man on the flaming pie!

Many weaks later, trudging glumly (oh, so glumly!) threw piles of snow and deserlation, Shetlokk took stock of his situation and said, "Damn, it's cold!" He was hungry and cold and wondered if he wood parish, for he hadn't seed a humble dwelling-place for many daze. What was he to dew? Our nobile inspectator was close to despare when, lo!, he beheld in front of him the strange Mister Man, riding upon the flaming pie!

"I say their fellow," conjectured the shivering defective, "but are you the chap that they call Mister Man, yea, the very personage who appeared to the Beatles (before they were the Beatles, because if you'd come after they were already the Beatles then they wouldn't have needed you at all, now would they have?) and telling them that from hensforth they would be knowed as the Beatles, with an 'A'?"

The curious man opened his curios mouth and spake, "Yeah, it was me!" Then he durst continue, "And what are you doing so far from home yourself, all popsikkled and along in this icy waistland?" Shedlock looked his square in the eye and said, very properly (ufter all, he IS British, you know!), "Sir, I have come to seek you out and to ask your name, that I might become famous and have a movie made about me. The peoples have a write to know!" The flames on the pie-mobile shot higher as the toasty-warm fellow smiled at Snerdlokk and said, "I cannot tell you my name, for it is a secret. But my mission is to be a fiend to all who seek fame and fortune, and so, to reward your devotion in seeking me out, I shall help you as I helped the Beedles--I shall give you a new name."

The floating pie spun about a few tymes as Mister Man chanted in a low voicebox, the wonderful aroma of the pie nearly o'ertaking poor Smirnoff as he stood quivering in his teeth. Then the pie stopped turning and Mister Man spake most gravelly, "From now on you will no longer be Shetlokk Holes, but your new name will be SHERLOCK HOLMES. With this name you will become known far and wide, and your fame will be beyond measure." Shodlock looked with amazedmints at the magical pie-man and asked, "Did you say Sherlock Holmes? Is that to be my new name?"

"Aye," said Mister Man, "that I did say with grate infection!"

"Well, that's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard," grumbled Smedlock, and he turned around and began trudging southward, back the way he had come, leaving the man on the flaming pie looking perplexed and confused...

Inspired by the writings of John Lennon


It Was So Long Ago...
by Anna Carolina Fagundes

Don't ask me where I was when it happened
I wasn't here when it happened
I just rememebr I have opened my eyes...
It was so long ago...

We've lived with the rope around the neck
without guarantees of live a little bit more.
All we had was that faith ( a little bit blind ):
who knows what future brings?
All I want is peace
( is it too much to ask? )
There are saints, and demons, and false diamonds,
How do I believe yet in peace? After all...

It was not so long ago
I saw thta man walking near me
and the strange thing is that he was already gone.
It was in a dream that he said:
"Keep on tryin' - no-one win nothing
stopping to see what was gone.
Only win the one that knows how to start over"
it's to it that you have to go.
Start over...so, here we go, John.
Starting over, thru thick and thin.
When you have a dream - and it is worthwhile


The Day it Happened
by MaryPoppins

It started out a normal day
With everything the same.
He went to work and sang some songs,
Signed his name along the way.
After a long but pleasant day,
He and his wife returned
Home to see their son.
But Johnny never got inside,
For on that winter night,
One of many loyal fans
Took our dear John's life.
A man who barely had his own
Stole him from his child and wife.
Not only them but all of us.
We miss you John, won't you come back?
But we know he never will.
No matter how much we wish it,
He is up there still.


See The Sun Shining Thru The Window
by Mathew LaRoc

See the sun shining thru the window, another day is coming. See the people waiting at the bus stop, just like another day. It makes me remember yesterday - it was 17 years ago today, when I was on my own, and the news came in as fast as wind. A shotgun. Goodbye, mr. Lennon. Goodbye, the Walrus.

I just want to say that I miss John, as all of you. I remember of him as the sun is shining thru my window - as a signal of the gods. For it says to me that, for all the tears there are moments of peace. And I search for this peace. "give peace a chance"...Be the sunlight at the window of all the people that didn't discover it yet.


STAND UP AND GO ( Walls and Bridges )
by Anna Carolina Fagundes

Sat at my usual place,
"Walls and bridges"is on my head.
Yesterday I've read all those poems...
all about his death!...
Hey you! Right here! Listen to me!
There are good things to remember
why do you always remind the pain?
That's what my mother always said:

STAND UP AND GO, CHILD, STAND UP AND GO!
What's gone is gone, we have to carry on!
STAND UP AND GO, CHILD, STAND UP AND GO!
Past may be decided, but future isn't done...

Why do we all look like Poe's crows
singing the "never-more" tune - dusk till dawn?
We can't be always reminding his death.
Thou' sometimes I feel sad,
that's what my mother always said:

STAND UP AND GO, CHILD, STAND UP AND GO!
What's gone is gone, we have to carry on!
STAND UP AND GO, CHILD, STAND UP AND GO!
Past may be decided, but future isn't done...

And I guess he'd better be remembered
by happy things, not sad ones...
Sam Choukri will hang me for that,
but that what my mother always said:

STAND UP AND GO, CHILD, STAND UP AND GO!
What's gone is gone, we have to carry on!
STAND UP AND GO, CHILD, STAND UP AND GO!
Past may be decided, but future isn't done...

Am I telling any lie?
Stand up and go...
I am not asking you to forget him
but stand up and go...

To 1975 and Julie, that gave me the idea


Go to:

Disclaimer: All the items presented in this exhibit (drawings, paintings, poems, etc.) are used with permission. The contributor of each item has claimed that he/she is the legal owner of the item and therefore has the legal right to permit its use. Sam Choukri will not be held liable in the event that the contributor of an item is found not to have the legal right to permit the use of such item. If there is any dispute concerning the ownership of any item, it will be removed until the dispute is resolved.

 

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