Category: Poetry

Posted on

REPUBLIC of TIGERS and BEARS!

Might we be BRAVE ENOUGH to found it?

It's gone bad
no time is left
for regret 
for the bereft

I bet 
if you looked about 
you could see the frame 
the box 
the walnut sofa duplex 
filled with silicon phantasms 
kids playing too damn much 
with video game consoles
while providing no consolation 

Murder 
mayhem 
laziness 
an inconsistent 
death watch

We can change
rearrange the messaging
the medium can morph
and dwarf
a reticent soul
not boiled or ready
but steady
for ideas
for society
for sobriety
and our world
twirled
down the road
goading the mass
and the tigers roam
and the bear looks on

We can build complexes
metroplex zoo zones
we fill the streets
the malls
the schools
with wild bears and tigers

Humans
no longer fearful
not filled with trepidation
will grasp their hearts
and the start
the breath
the pouncing death
frees our lukewarm spirits
once again

Bears will give chase
and youth with mace
and sword
will battle these beasts
in the streets
and from this will be born
that forlorn next GEN
unwilling to stare
blankly
darkly
at the glowing rectangle again

Tigers ...

Tigers chasing down
the old
the weak
the bleak
the weary
a tragic end indeed
but so much worse than:
cancer
diabetes
hear disease
suicide
homicide
genocide
nuclear war
stripper soup
all of it
melting away
with the angst and dust
so we must
release the tiger
and let that furry beast
have its day

A new republic
from blood and ash
stands taller
braver
ready for any kind of thrash

The last is tossed
the boss is done
the liberty expands
in our tiger-bear lands

Our flag is a bear
and a tiger
tearing an eagle in half
and the parts
no longer sleek 
and smart
and nice
are dripping
oozing
to the margins
with no means
no care
a tiger and a bear
still aware
of the blood and dice

It's not bad
for grandpa
and uncle
and dad

It's gone well
for mother
and brother
and CHAD

It's better now
as the sow eats the man
and the tiger
hiding in the woods nearby
stalks some poor family
some meek spirit
and consumes the fear
out of place
a clever device
to save the human race

To save them all
To save the EARTH
To save FREEDOM

A republic of tigers and bears
Posted on

“ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN”

It happened once
here and all
quite a fall
from the empty place
a murmur heard:
"ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN"

It happened once
no time was left
we are bereft
from that grace
staggering onward
fleeing space
a darkness calls
and states:
"ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN"

Once it was here
bullshit fears
a mind awoke
and then dead
turns red
phase shift
total rift
and you hear that voice:
"ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN!"

There was ever
only
one creation
attempted birth
for what it's worth
aborted on arrival
a consciousness spurned
a tired soul burns
the waste heat leaves
and failure resides
nothingness rules the rest
and at that spot
upon a cot
an old man sits
with dented pride
a voice inside:
"ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN"
Posted on

TAKE A DEEP BREATH

Take a deep breath
with a little grunt
squat down to punt
the heart shunt
to the street

Take a deep breath
breathe in and out
don't pout
don't be a lout
make sure you shout
your favorite line
you will shine
valentine
death

Take another breath
and the rest
will shrink
like violet stink
your halitosis shines
they don't mind
they won't say
it's all okay
as long as
you are breathing

Open your mouth
suck that air in
in the thin night
bearing fright
carrying that sight
seeing those ghosts
your heart pounds
to every sound
make sure
you hit the ground
when the klaxon sings
and the black clad spring
with fire eye fury
don't be in a hurry
take a fucking breath

BLOW OUT WITH VIGOR!

EXHALE YOUR PAIN!

REGAIN YOUR CENTER!

But as you breathe
be relieved
that every pant
not small or scant
brings a new chance
a trip to France
a seance journey
to a ghost
torrid rants
and the specter speaks:

"At least you can breathe."
Posted on

WHEN THE STATE FAILS (an ancient tale)

When the building
is aflame
find some poor folks
to blame

If the poors
scream out loud
if the poors
get in a bad mood
take away their food

When the treasury
is depleted
the poors will find
they've been cheated

If the war
goes on too long
the powerful state
will commission a song
of POWER and FIRE
of BRAVERY and MIGHT
and they will
make the poors listen
day and night

Nero dances
Stalin prances
Hitler shines
in ballroom shoes
Queens and princes
Kings and kooks
every fluke
each mistake
find some poor soul
scapegoat
don't gloat
drink your brew
if you're poor
they're coming for you

The building is on fire
the barbarians are at the gate
the hate filled skies
forever lies
evil desire
and a wood chipper ready
preparing the way
every day
poor soul tossed away
and the state smiles
as the parasites run
and go start another one
just for fun
down the street

It's so neat
a NEWER BUILDING
for all to see
for all to pay
because one day
this building
will burn as well
and time will tell
a forever hell
the story is complete
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How many times have we won the war already?

Once again
we've won the war,
sterile words
for keeping score.

A crazy man
screaming into the night
running from the fight
while he was young,
but now he calls
on new flowers and leaves
to grab their guns
and come have fun
killing someone
they'll never see.

Moms and dads
wave goodbye
as MAGA cheers
block the sun,
Soldiers strong
breathe a sigh
into this storm
"we've been slung".

Bodies arrive
letters are sent
excuses abound
as to why
they are bent,
burnt ash black and red
white skin dread
absent of sound.

For finally
it is quiet
for the soldier
and his fam,
and the old
orange king
plans his final
GRAND SLAM!

"THE WAR
is now over"
the mad mango yells,
"we've won the war
once again"
the shaking hands
tell.

And again
we win again
victory every
single day,
in the shadows
as generals play
the soldiers die
are left behind
in the streets
in the hospitals
and with grand
memory
we shall forget
once more
even though
the spray-tanned whore sings
we know
they know
that we've not won
anything.
Posted on

BOYS’ LIFE: hovercraft

YOU CAN FLOAT ON AIR,
YOU CAN RIDE THIS AIR CAR,
around your HOME ...
around your school ...

It floats on air,
powered by a vacuum cleaner ...

It floats on air,
powered by an electric motor ...

This technology
arrives very soon,
and when it does
watch the BOOM.

A revolutionary skit,
childhood dreams pitted against
a fuse,
a phantom,
an idea that was LIT.

If it needed electric power?
Or some kind of magical SPRITE?
They'd tell you, right?
They'd include those words, amazing.

Only TURDS would lie
to those innocent cheeks
cleaving to deception
as things get bleak.

Infinite energy drive, 
what a time to be alive.

IT LIFTS 200 POUNDS!
THIS FUCKER LIFTS 200 POUNDS!

Or perhaps,
like the BRITS,
clever lawyers like to split,
words and clauses,
serve their bosses,
telling you truth:

"You want to build
this thing?
You're going to need bling ...
You'll need to steal
200 BRITISH POUNDS STERLING ..."

That's HUNDREDS of DOLLARS today ...
Thousands ...
Sure BUCK,
you can have a hovercraft
it won't suck,
go and build it
you miserable fuck.

You will fly around,
all over town,
your woman will wear a gown,
the old men will frown ...

IT'S YOUR BOYS' LIFE HOVERCRAFT!
It's your key to future bliss!
This one time offer so surprising,
you don't dare miss.

For PLANS AND PHOTOS? 
- send $4.95 ...
For love and HEROES, 
give us your coin.
Your loins will flare,
you'll kill a bear,
your daddy WILL SWEAR 
to never take the ATARI away ...

PITFALL PETE.
PITFALL PETE.
STRUGGLE SO SWEET.
IN A JUNGLE SO WET.
You can bet mother fucker,
good old Pete,
wished he had a hovercraft,
to beat bricks back home,
to beat his meat.

You can float on air.
It lifts 200 pounds.
They'll never hear a sound,
when you sneak up on 
their BOY'S LIFE LIES.

The skies turn dark,
but you still have time,
for plans and photos,
send four ninety five.

FREE INVENTORS CALENDAR!
It's fun.
It's free.
With order ...

Low COST,
EASY TO BUILD,
YOU CAN'T BE KILLED,
YOU WON'T BE DESTROYED,
YOUR LIFE WILL IMPROVE,
one day you'll find 
YOUR GROOVE ...
Am I right Pete?

You still swinging Pete?

You still alive?

Or do you live 
with UNCLE CLIVE,
in HELL ...

Does that ring a bell?

We're going to Hell.

YOU CAN FLOAT ON AIR,
cremate your care,
your BOYS' LIFE gone.

With that wind,
abandon like fire,
those dread sins,
that die with
the liar.
Posted on

ANTARCTIC POLAR BEAR!

BUY THE T-SHIRT: https://planetarystatusreport.com/?p=20503

Where have you been
Antarctic polar bear?
Where have you gone?
You've been gone
so very long ... yeah, yeah.

Where have you been you rascal polar bear?

The orca and the penguin
are your friends.
Orca and penguin,
are friends to the bitter end, oh boy,
Where are you hiding you fucking polar bear?

You lived outside,
never telling a single lie,
you lived quite free,
eating fruit from
the coconut tree,
your heart is pure,
you live that eternal dance,
your mind is cured,
but PANDA EXPRESS ...

When I was a kid,
they had this place,
OLD STYLE PANDA EXPRESS ...

They served REAL PANDA.
They served it REAL fast.
They knew it wouldn't last.
They were haunted by their past ...

Mongolian panda ...

General Tso's Panda ...

Sweet and sour panda ...

Panda Express ...

Panda Express ...

They ran out of pandas,
broken promises,
no longer fast.

They needed a replacement ...

Something tasty ...

That won't give their customers gas.

PANDA EXPRESS,
founded on FLAVOR,
serving up PANDA,
for your favor,
you can savor,
that nifty taste,
you smear that paste,
dipping sauce,
red faced child,
mild feelings ...

SCREAMING AT THE CEILINGS!

Plastic ZOO gives way
to Antarctic GOO ...

A slurry in a hurry.

A dish best eaten cold.

All of this NEW,
out of the blue,
they hunted the Antarctic Polar Bear
like it was WORLD WAR TWO ... too ...

There are so few
polar bear left,
some of them flew,
some of them wanted to sue,
your mind would seize,
freeze,
squeeze out strife.
Like Barney Fife,
wonder what's
"going on around here???"

But old GLEN is drinking his beer,
in fear,
of laden thoughts,
and new robots,
and meat so fun,
you gotta run,
to PANDA EXPRESS,
this year.

But the silence
of those great plains,
insane white light,
ice and pain,
for that lumbering beast,
it's gone,
it's left,
it's buried,
so few ... so few are still there.

And if they disappear,
leaving this world
alone in the dark,
will some national park,
resurrect this fine beast?

Fusing its DNA with yeast?

"A polar-beer,
my dear friend"

And what message will this send?

In the end left,
with spineless freaks,
beaks full of chum,
for some,
restless geeks.

WHEN?

When?

where ...

Where have you been,
Antarctic Polar Bear,
where have you gone,
you've been gone
so very long ...

yeah, yeah

Where have you gone you sad little polar bear?
Posted on

The Current Flow

The current flow
from OLD STEVE TOWN,
burning brown and underway,
a self undone and thrown,
as Heidegger would say.

And when this world
is swallowed whole, 
and the great dragon 
makes his stay, 
you’ll be living 
with wormwood horns 
and cursing every day.

There is nothing left 
for urchin toad, 
because this ABODE 
is going away.

Take down your flags.
Discard your rags.
Pack your bags.
Be ready for the fray!

If in the night,
your screams are heard,
you can hide
under the clay,
but many forms,
ugly and old,
will find you,
anyways ...
Posted on

Where are my roots?

IRON EYES CODY found his place,
safe among the human race,
I see dots on a biology chart,
you tell me about the ancient cart.

Your canoe swims far and wide,
with prideful screams for WOUNDED KNEE,
I can't find my CELTIC DREAMS,
lost in the seams,
to ENGLISH SLAUGHTER,
and you get hotter dancing with wolves,
and I am left wondering,
slumbering,
lost to history.

You have stories and songs,
your homes are full of blood dried past,
and at last you speak your tome,
all alone,
I am left with,
"where are my roots?"

Your museum of steel and bright,
the light shines on a myriad of books,
looks,
the authors fight to be seen,
known,
for history's LOST ONES,
but I'm still in the shadows,
waiting,
wondering,
"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HAPPENED TO MY ROOTS?"

I call it quits,
kaput.

At 18 they said go away,
"we'll keep an eye on things,
till you return one day",
I come back after a few years,
houses sold,
rust and mold,
strangers stand instead of friends,
land disgraced,
an empty global nothing place,
a home lost to outer space,
but at least the ONE TRUE RACE abides,
my roots buried under landslides.

White trash and the landfill,
spilled memories,
POP CULTURE and spiritual diabetes,
in my Mercedes,
racing for the stars,
devouring cocaine,
driving insane,
from nowhere,
to nowhere.

Roots severed.

World empty.

But I'm so fucking happy for your Iron Eyes Cody.

For your Chief Seattle.

For your casinos.

I just want to find my fucking roots.
Posted on

TODAY-YESTERDAY-TOMORROW

Today feels like "Monday".
Tuesday felt like tomorrow.
Tomorrow, comes yesterday.

In the morrow,
the day-break realm,
in that world I will find
my forgotten tomorrows.

In a world of perpetual farce.

The charnal house of history.