Please forgive and be forewarned the nature and lack of political correctness found in the following...
Christmas MassI sit, in the back
Seat refused fifty years prior A place for backsliders And the late losers Like the unwanted Christ Hid behind the faith full The Orthodox masses Sheep led to slaughter By a hypocrite Church I sit, in the back One pew from Hell From the door to the street Where real people exist Where religion is the quest for bread Where blind men stumble Across dead left to rot In storefront gutters I sit, in the back And pretend to be awake Yet more awake than the Dozing Elders The rich suits The pretty girls looking for boys Secretly to fawn over in the dark pews of Rialto Theatre I sit, in the back Waiting to leave And get back to the living sp.12/24/06 |
At Night in TenleytownAt night in Tenleytown
He emerges on an empty street under an evil moon A figure hunching towards home Cold dinner wrapped in tinfoil Waiting in a dark oven House quiet Children sleeping She waits Her bedside lamp like a beacon Burning for him He sweats from his hurried walk home Wine burns through his pores Eyes glassy staring at his shuffling feet Carrying him towards sanity An empty soul fed by wanton thoughts Perverted stares at girls he knows will never give in Numbed by all the wrong spirits His knees have grown tender again Mouth parched Brow furrowed Lost in streets that no longer feed him In a world that no longer cares for him He crosses in front of me at Wisconsin and Albemarle I go unnoticed And watch as he slumps away His silhouette lost in darkened shadows Gone I strain to see him Wondering if I am not the same Lost in shadows Empty and alone sp.1999/1 |
Last Night I Took A Walk Up 14th StreetLast night I took a walk up 14th street
First past Freedom plaza Then across to Washington Theatre Where Brahmin dressed in evening black Congregated in pairs and groups between acts Jabbering as Brahmin do when gathered About the bestowal of God’s good fortune Turning up 16th street at Willard’s I lingered for a moment at the window Watching young professionals toast success Heads thrown back and full of aspirations Proudly parading their new found status I watched this silent picture from a distance A mount of time and opportunity between us And on past independent shops Closed for the evening and empty Except for the owners at back-corner tables Hunched over their evening receipts Trying hard to keep themselves in the black Light from these dimly lit stages Cast pale shadows at my feet to light my way Then darker places where alleys opened up Emitting a back-alley stench Home to the lower society unfit to live in the light Who were busy digging for their survival Feeding on scraps unfit for the gentry Like rats they silently rummaged Except for an occasional clanking bottle Then out into the light again A busy intersection and another block Yellow cabs hurried by carrying drunken businessmen Couples romancing arm in arm waiting for the signal I mixed with them listening to their conversations Mostly they spoke of love and the stock market As if these two were axis to the world A Green light sent us dispersing in every direction Each winding our way to some cozy place I walk alone For good reason though Wanting to be at this particular time To think and map my puzzled future Hoping the city will lend some clues Up ahead are home, wife, commitment, And responsibility But here I walk alone A momentary chance to think to map to walk… sp.1999/1 |
His Veinhis vein was difficult to find
somewhere there in the crease of a trembling arm, adrenaline blue vein where ancient blood flowed from an ancient garden where the Tigris and Euphrates met, where divinity once planted a young couple who would lie in secret deceit his vein connected to us all becoming our vein hidden beneath a thin vale of nigger flesh our flesh our blood our humanity our sacred promise his vein so difficult to find would tear so easily as any other where sterile needle poked and prodded held by the trembling hand of Pontius Pilate driven like a nail two thousand years old, driven into dark flesh stretched across cedar of Lebanon an example lifted for the entire world to see His vein now collapsed The temple curtain torn open loved ones, victims, and gawkers huddled, witness to the last sacred exhale of God and the death of His mercy a sign above his head reads “There can be no redemption” .sp. |
This One Goes Out to All the Prom QueensThis one goes out to all the prom queens who held onto the back of donated cars while skinny little pimply boys drove you through throngs of football masses guys gawking dreaming of prom night fun as all the girls secretly despised you wanting to pull your hair out and all the lonely boys still virgins dry humped themselves and salivated and fathers; fathers and their deep dark secrets fantasized and jealous mothers remembered their own high school days and jocks busy bashed helmets in some synchronized game of war...
...and to think all of this unfolded on some electric small town Friday night while countless more fell in dusty Baghdad streets .sp. |
Yellow DaisysYellow daisys
Lazy in the sun Fields of many Covering hills forever My blanket presses A perfect square Sunken in yellow I lie, poor daisys bent beneath They sacrifice for me And her As we unfold into each other Youthful blooms Given up so young for love .sp. |
As Dawn AroseAs dawn arose
From primordial slumber Casting light through juniper And simple brush Adam, caught By early sunbeams Woke to find his mate Hair tossed Naked in a mess beside him Trying hard to remember Of the berry juice The tree The snake A jealous reference A six inch scar A vague memory of lust She lay Still dreaming Soft smile swept across her face He gazed upon her naked Form, oh sensual form Of dust Oh tree of knowledge Of which no kinder bird may rest Now they have become like Us! Then fled their shame And hid Among the dew-heavy ferns And made their cloths From leaves of fig To hide the awful lie Six thousand years a lie To bear the pain of mother’s labor To toil on fields of dust To wander Out of garden’s lust A flaming dagger set against Them both A fiery protector of Eternal trust sp.3/01 |
There is Blue in GreenThere is blue in green
There is a little blue in everything In the wind In the trees In the raging seas Deep blue, dark green There is a whole lot of blue in many things. There, in your eyes Emerald as they are Crystal blue tears fall As blue stars fall from night skies There is blue in night In loneliness There is a little blue in everything I guess There is blue in green sp.2/2/01 |