Tag: poetry

Here’s to the deadening of the soul [FaMo Blues]

my voices tell me I should quit
quit what?
it doesn’t matter
my cat looks at me like I’m dying
and she’s 16 so she should know
we look at each other like invalids
I am trans and have fibromyalgia and autism
so I’m the great experiment
there are so many billionaires trying to give me drugs!
And have they!
the voices say what I’m doing isn’t working
but I’m so trapped
My children. Oh my children.
Yes, I’m a disenfranchised transgender FaMo.
The courts have ruled me unworthy of the experience.
But lest I sit inside a Portland tent
I have to kiss the master’s feet.
Oh lords and ladies of the land
sweet owners of stock options and
all yachts and all good graces too
do you?
think that a small and suffering lot
could use a few more trickles yet?
Oh no?

Then we might have to share
your military secrets and
make movies to your sweet demise
the land of former masters
burned

masks

the masks we wear, they wear us out

from when I was a straightish man
to yes, a “sportsman,” I once deigned
and then the mask at once became
a gayish, 19 years of age
sweet Jupiter was wooed I’m sure
the cleverest boy, with boyfriends too
to married father, divorced rage
and this transgender thing they say
I’ve always been quicksilver
darting Mercury through the haze
and so a traveler wearing masks
becomes the masks he at once gazed

and then the deepness tackled out
to bring the truth with Hades’ clout
I’m won because I’m just so sure
Masks are all and nothing more

House of Cards

Some strange miasma
creeps round through our institutions
looming, leering
leaching good
from inside out
The catabolic yin is in our bones
It’s trumped all fight
There goes the light
What’s weak is might
Send fair corona
to the king
Throw down the crown
so we can sing
America is dead
bring swiftness made of lead
to hit the posts
and free the ghosts
so we may build again

Revelation grey

We spend our days
in helpless rage
with pets and gazes
hanging on imagination
wishing for a place beyond the edge
where happy hugs and dancing
camp inside our sated hearts
Oh sky and Earth
our last resorts
I pray we now can leave the past
Walk forward over rubbled ruins
while masked to keep the others out
This now grey world
is our new home
but color will return again

Beyond the tape

She dreams of solace at the door
behind the tape that says
no more
no fighting with the devil now
just call four one
and one for wow
to see your screen go white
that’s all the outside light
we get
in quarantine

but only the flowers on her phone
called men and the dogs who want her bone
can smell the desperation in her sin
of venturing out
beyond the tape one night

she slipped up to an old stone stoop
and buzzed a buzzer busily saying
hey!
it’s me
the door unlocked
she slipped in like a fog

the virus that they don’t test for
is the most contagious one so far
two naked things in love somehow
beyond the tape, inside the now

Some drinks

Alcohol has always
fired me up
opened me up
given me up
the drinks I’ve drunk
the drunks I’ve loved
the feels I’ve felt
in alcohol

we think of words as so innate
even though they’re merely tools
4 thousand years ago they wrote
and forgot before the words were worn

But with a drink
it all goes smooth
I say
two beers before a show
but have one more
and fuck the fools
who don’t deserve
to know

alcohol brings my me out front
and some folks
don’t like
the out-front
show
and so I’ve learned to wear a mask
that I throw off at the twist or pop or
yes, please, another

The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.

Cats | Glow

The propaganda increases
it gets to SHOUTING
and us as mice
just deftly eating
thinking why?
are BIG CATS SHOUTING!
they’re all fat
and boastfully grooming
us the mice
are deftly eating
thinking
why?
are BIG CATS SHOUTING!?
we’re just mice
alone and feeding
just to live
to see the show
so we, the mice
just munch and go

where are the kitties?
please let it go…
this masculinity
bores the show
we are but gods
because cats know
for they have picked us
because we glow 

Illegal

be the illegal you
the one they say you shouldn’t do
see through the rigged and rugged ruse
the crayon box ain’t got your hue
be the illegal you

you’re not a billionaire’s project
you’re not disadvantaged
you’re not small

some Scrooge McDuck
with all his “luck”
has stolen your love
and blamed your color, your gender, your partner
saying “isn’t it so sad, what happened to you”
“here’s a scrap to tide you through”

But, I am the illegal me
the dress-wearing, limp-wristed, faggot tree
that never stopped growing
and now I see
above the jungle
proudly free

I AM the illegal me
let loose by perfect poverty
the losses showed me how to see
come join me here
I’ll share my key

with you

Heaven

I had a vision that I went to heaven
and there were no white people there
well maybe a couple
but mostly just lots and lots of black people
and I don’t know where I really was
I might have been seeing my own subconscious mind
or I might have really been there
but something about it rang true
I would not be shocked if there were only a few white folks
in heaven
not in the least

SCREAM!

I don’t have to be
the spinning cog
or lifeless machine of greed
to be worthy
of love
And yet I’m spinning round
in capitalism’s glove
atop the earth
I am like the moon
debased and gray
and yet although my darkness lives
the light has won
because
the sun it never dies
it only gets obscured
and one day it will come back home
the rising over mountains
a great new sun eruption
Pluto lets Persephone fly
and golden Apollo gets her high
and from the darkness rises
love unfurled
a queen beleaguered
but here to SCREAM!

Equinox Parade of Jaded Hipsters

I feel great fear across the land
and with no gods to hold their hands
they quiver with their lattes
grasping games, like falling sand
looking for another fix
to make reality go nix
the Disney version isn’t true
so their vision is unglued
and with decadence unfurled
we’ve been the luckiest in the world
Bold America is lost
in precious nihilism’s sauce

in order to be strong
you have to recognize
your weakness yes
but also learn to fight with verve
against usurpers, fiends, and cons
not make ironic jokes go on
and on

I think of fair Arjuna
crowing how he couldn’t fight
and Krishna with his cold derision
naming him a feckless child

The promise of America the brave
the land of milk and honey’s ways
is lies
it always was

but now our cynicism swirls around our necks
and good old boys are standing there on deck
Life is beautiful transcendence and some dreck
Get up, stand up, put the fascists into check