Tag: writing

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!

The Current Crazy Will Lead to a New Paradigm

Everything seems crazy right now unless you realize that technology and the internet is shaking the establishment to its core, and the establishment is freaking out as a result. Because the establishment has tendrils into so much of our government-media-military complex, you are witnessing a giant freakout as the clothes of the pseudo-emperors are exposed as non-existent.

What are they doing as a result in real-world terms? Supporting a clown as president even though they know it is wrong and forgoing any semblance of ethical behavior. It is sad to see people exposed so deeply, but they are getting exposed at a very quick rate.

This carnage won’t likely be over until 2024 or so by my estimates based on various methods, but it will end. The old, decrepit growth is being broken down and tilled over. You may not see it now, but the children are shocked by their elders’ behavior. A change is gonna come, and it’s gonna come quick.

So, if you’re supporting the right-wing as it is, you’re the bird who was telling the dinosaurs “it’s just a regular asteroid, no worries. It’s just a permanent winter, no worries. Arby’s will be open in no time!” The old carapace is being shed. We all should welcome this natural death.
This isn’t to say that we should stop fighting and just let them die. No, we are the asteroid. They are the Arby’s loving dinosaurs.

Want

We danced through time
as roses with their petals falling upward
into heaven’s grace
that holy place between our legs
And even though we stopped a while
I always dreamed
and smelled your sting
the acrid devil’s haunting choir
that I can’t replace
I long for the way you felt that day
the moaning soft vibration of you
It resounds in my heart
our city fell in the month of May
but now on the wreckage we dig in our shovels
a photo op, and a ribbon splitting
this is where we now begin
your love is what I want to win

My heart is a homeless camp

My heart is a homeless camp
So let the rain of wine drain down
to douse the pain
of living in your car emotions
uncaring where the crosswalk is
my heart it walks barefoot and beat
staging a coup on the surly traffic in the street
its unkempt hair, the surest vein
of how did I not know it blues
we pray, the other organs, for her health
but hearts beleaguered, anoxic, and still
rarely revive from that attack’s news
Goethe said one ought not resist fate
that bird who sings on street corners
he bade you go and submit to her
and she will guide you pleasantly
so willingly I’ll go to meet her
leaving death and change aside
this pristine goddess dreaming
in my head reveals
that love like that can never die
you’ll hold it past your last lorn sigh