Wednesday, February 16, 2011

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Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Spanish Rose

I waltzed out with my Spanish rose
Amidst the parfum d’bougainvillea,
And the snappish tang
Of the ginger in my nose,
My rose,
We caressed,
We tangoed,
Beneath the tamarindo,
Drunk within ourselves
Obsessed,
As the parrots screamed
And the fireflies glowed.

My dark Spanish rose,
I plucked you then
Like a minstrel caballero
I arpeggioed your stem
Your Spanish thorn pricked my finger,
And my blood ran
Like the Red River
Little bloody soldier,
I buried him in your petals
My perfect Spanish gem
And you shivered
As I crimsoned you
Like the morning dew
You shook,
As you always do
And we tangoed
Beneath the tamarindo
We caressed
Though you said no
I drew breath from your mouth
Obsessed
My hands in your dress
As the parrots screamed
And you begged me,
“yes”.

I sailed out with my dark Spanish rose
Yes, we sailed upon my sloop
As the tropic moon arose
Toward St. Lucia
On a sea that pulsed
Like a beating heart
Off the coast of Aguadilla
The stars were far apart
While the old moon glowed brown
And your Spanish hair
Came tumbling down
Sang gaily in the breeze
As we flew
You hugged your knees
And the playful flying fish
Made fishy silver arcs
All was then
And then was just the start

How the Spanish magic filled the air
My rose,
Amidst the bougainvillea,
And the snappish tang
Of the ginger in my nose,
We caressed,
We tangoed,
Beneath the tamarindo,
Drunk within ourselves
Obsessed,
As the parrots screamed
And the fireflies glowed.

There Ain' No Talent Here


There ain’ no talent here
My dear
No genius
No knack
No gushing spring
No panties sheer
Fo’ sho’
Dat’s clear
No pop da top
Down in th’ shack
Just panic
Angst
Da slack attack
That bloozey muse
Got whacked
Cheap bitch
Dat random sleeze
She tease’
Jus’ like an itch
I know she is
Dead river bed
The ditch is packed wit
Stones an’ grit
No spit
No jizz
You bes’ believe
Cold bitch is stacked
Her hair all
Mousey frizz
She give dull head
Yeah
Cracked
This endless plain
That’s all full up
With bored disdain
Don’ jerk my chain
Or work my pain
This world’s one
Moaning drone
Eternal
Freight-car train
I cain’ turn back
So sorry that I
Came
Insane
There ain’
No talent here,
I fear,
I plod the trod
No verve
To serve
Jus’ stumble
Bumble,
Pavement crumble
Stagger as I swerve
Jus’ one dumb foot
(I lost my nerve)
An’ then the other
Holy Mother
Taste my fear
There ain’ no talent
Here
There ain’ no comfort
Here
My dear
Jus’ shame
Accusing pointing
Blame
Yeah
Dehydrated
Writhing
Craving rain
Your dowdy dancin’
Drunken dress is
Stained
Matriculated
Calculated
Plain
Tin snip cut
You slut
Emasculated
Sand-dune of the
Mind
Echolalia
La-la
Keeping time
Dry mummies stagger
Dirks and gaggers
Scattered ‘cross the floor
They cry
They roar
They scream for more
Jus’ one club foot
An’ then the clumsy other
Holy Mother
Taste my fear
There ain’ no
Talent here
My dear
There ain’ no
Talent
Ain’ no
Here
Ain’ no
Ain’t
Originate
But it’s too late
We diddled
With our fiddles
While the greedy
Masses ate and
As the swollen,
Rollin’
Streamin’ flowed
We glowed
And so
Did all
We know
Evaporate
Got on our bikes
An’ rode
We sissy priests
Pontificate
We consecrate
The dull ingrate
Who sits and counts
This sand
This slate
One grain by stinkin'
Grain
This silicon and glass
This funeral in my
Hand
This swipe
Across my ass
We never planned
This flannel fugue
This cotton ball
We can’t recall
With certitude
The reason
Or the season
Why we came
To here
Unclear
How did we,
Why?
And then,
Like,
Wow,
Can we get out?
And when
Or how?
This non-artistic lie
This mush of shapes
So hot
So dry
Forgotten tomes
White bones
And muted
Earth tones
No ice cream cones
Go home, Jones
Sick gnome
Get off alone
Bitch moans
Attention roams
No focal point
We’re all too stoned
The lizard needs to
Eat its brother
Holy Mother
No quenching silence
All the while
And yet,
No noise,
Just boring,
Aching
Lack of poise
Just artless
Farting slobs
With hackneyed toys
Fratricidal child
Profound
We fall far short
We tumble,
Bumble, stumble
Down
We sail into the port
And drown
Then through the canyon
Full of ire
A prophet came
(And came)
All passion
Vengeance
Fire
Mountains thundered
The living desire
And stones were flesh
And flesh was life
And life was an army
Of soldiers
Slashing knives
Who would fight
All night
And multiply the fright
Divide
And conquer with
Licentious delight
The ascendance of
Their God
The "true" religion
And honor
And the stones became flesh
Engendered slaves
Who wear their collars
Yep
Right here
In this same canyon
For thousands of years
The righteous
The chosen
Were focused and clear
But now
Only now
I taste the
Rising fear
They have their God
I plug and plod
There ain’ no
Talent here
Jus’ one foot
Then the tripping
Other
Holy Mother
Jus’ ain’ no
Talent here.

Monday, January 31, 2011

When the Church Burn'd Down


Hear the bells up in the steeple
See the sparks fly in the air
There’s a hundred people screamin’
Lord,
An’ runnin’
Ev’rywhere
Yeah,
Folks are scared
Faces full of worry an’ despair
There was some evil up on holy ground
When the church burn’d down

Gonna call up all the elders
Someone call the reverend’s son
You can call the fire department
But ya know they’ll never come
They won’ come out
“Nigga wat yew talkin’ about?”
They brought some evil up on holy ground
When the church burn’d down

There was a cross up by the alter
Where the saints could come to pray
Now
There’s a new cross in the churchyard
An’ it’s burnin’ up in flames
A cross of shame
Try to tell us things have changed
There was some evil up on holy ground
When the church burn’d down

Now some men got the wisdom
An’ some men,
They be rich
An’ some men jes’ a shovel
Diggin’
Someone else’s ditch
Oh yeah
This life is such a burden
Got to carry it too long
An’ they push you
‘Til your mind is cracked
An’ your heart is goin’ wrong
Yeah we try to be yo’ people
Let the river wash us clean
But it smells like burnin’ timbers
An’ a trace of kerosine
An’ the saints
They keep on prayin’
For the new day
Full of grace
Lord
Why you keep delayin’
When they burn’d my baby’s face?
They brought some evil up on holy ground
When the church burn’d down
Poured some evil on my holy ground
When they burn’d it down

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Polite Society


Mine is a craft
of conversation
Come spend a few hours with me
It's a gentle art
Two willing hearts
We'll conspire and consort
With perhaps
A snifter of Port
Ou une tasse of jasmin tea
What ever happened to
Polite society
And the era of
Liberal Arts?
The imperative's gone
To be gracious and warm
Well-rounded
Best form
Cosmopolitan
Epicurean
Alert and with curious hearts
To aspire
To that wisdom
That burns like a fire
To desire
Perfect etiquette
Parse the subject
From the predicate
To relish all manner of things
To know
To read
To grow
To need one another
To feel
To heal
To share
This intercourse
On some magic horse
Be well-versed on fair use
Of a salad fork
To recount
Of cabbages and kings
Our options abound
In endless amount
Any topic, please choose
'S all the same to me
The subject is secondary
Let's dance
With the words
Palaver like blackbirds
Social fraternity

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Ten Minutes 'til Twelve


Ten minutes 'til twelve
The hour is late
Sharp sleet plays cadence
Upon the distant courtyard gate
Soon,
Dark midnight looms
Like jubilee
Of new delight
My bed a swampy
Cosmic sea
I lay awake
And wait
For you,
Strange succubus
Forever on the make,
To come again
And set me free
On this voluptuous night

Then we shall fly away?
To start anew?
My glorious strengths returned
Because of you
The lasers of my eyes to burn
We both (with greed) remember
Curse'd secrets that
Must not be learned
Old corpses long dismember'd
To flesh forever
We'll be true
No clever passion spurn'd
You female tramp
Enchanting ragtime hungry vamp
Beguiling slut
I drool to feel your cruelest cut
You bring your sister, too,
With fangs so long
And sexes damp

I prayerfully invoke
Before I drift in sleep
You'll stay
And mingle here with me awhile
Into this bed
Your spell must creep
Then blood
(and other flows) shall seep
(How well you know)
And I,
Erstwhile
Part shy
Decaying Romeo

Scarce moments left
'til midnight, now...
My rum gun poised
For shots across your bow
Leave far behind
All things allowed
Come,
Favorite fiend,
(with sister in between)
Come bite this anxious brow

Lakeside Dreams


In the tranquil calming silence
Of this lake-side weekend house
I loaf in my familiar chair
And watch exhausted sun
Drop finally down
Into a glassy mirrored bath
Of still-life
Amethyst blue
While distant bullfrog chants his prayer
And syncopates
With contrapuntal loon
To-whoo
Who bids the day his comforting adieu
Each note a tonic for my pain
My voltage drained
I grateful sink
And dream my precious dreams of you
Again
As endless fireflies wink

Yes,
It was even here
That I,
It seems,
A fresh-faced bounding boy,
Tin soldiers on the floor,
With boyish jactitations
Created hostile nations
Awful engines
Spoils of war
Imaginary corps
I lived within my toys
And first conceived my early dreams
Of you

My mother read to me
When I was two...
The rhymes of Mother Goose
(I was just new
and instantly seduced)
The best of times for
Little Boy Blue
Come blow my horn
Then one day
I turned three
And fast I learn'd to read
All dusty books and fairy tales
Dragon claws,
Woodsman's saws
And pirate sails
Scarecrows in the corn
The Jacks and Jills
And tumbling pails
My heart beat fast
And I would laugh at these
Canards of gransoise scale
(But some were sad)
I read
And read
'Til my eyes went bad
Upon my bed
A blanket near the fire
My nose book-bound and
Burning with desire
To escape (already)
Break stun-gun run away
Swirling in the eddies
While young fairies play
Fantasnization imaginary
Milk maids weeping near the dairy
And I incurable
Lost romantic
A valiant knight
Whose life was too pedantic
Enchanted armor,
(Gold, of course)
The handsome prince
Upon the wildest,
Brimstone snorting horse
The kindest aged
Wisest king
Who foiled the wicked
Witch's scheme
Who had the best of everything
If the world was milk
I was the cream
It was then I dreamt
My cherished dream
Of you

Real life was strife
And not much splendid
Thus I devised a world for us
Where dreams came true
And poems never ended
And everyone was always happy
And all the mommies loved the daddies
No one ever left alone
It was my perfect sanctuary
My castle and my home
All cock and bull
Perhaps,
But enduring, yes,
Though time elapsed...
I thought someday that you would come
I kept the faith and trusted full
My other half
My princess with a sugar plum
A wand of spells
'Tween finger long
And perfect thumb
Alas, my vision may have been
Another complex faerie trap

And yet, once more,
This one last time
I sit within this chair of mine
And watch exhausted sun
Drop quickly down
Into the glassy mirrored bath
Of still-life
Amethyst blue
While distant bullfrog chants his prayer
And syncopates
With contrapuntal loon
Who bids the day his comforting adieu
Each note a tonic for my pain
My voltage drained
I grateful sink
And dream my precious dreams of you
This final time
Again

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Shake, Shake


Some people
Like eating cherries
Others delight
In fresh strawberries
But my baby,
She better than
All the rest
'Cause she keeps a pair
Inside 'er dress

Shake, shake
Try ta make it break

Now
Mr. Wazoo, he
Hide beside your
Back door
(Yeah),
Ya hear his
Crispy crunchy
On the cardboard floor
While my baby,
She crazy for my
Final surprise
She don' want the box
Unless there's
Somethin' inside

Shake, shake
Try ta make it break
Hesitation is a big
Mistake
Breakfast has always come
After our dreams, so
Won't ya float into my bowl
An' soak up the cream
Shake, shake
Try ta make it break
(C'mon, Jack
Don' be slack...
Come across wit' da
Cracker Jack)

Now ev'ry girl
(it's said, Sugar)
Got her price
If you don' ask enough
Honey
Dat's not nice
Whoa
The latex you been wearin'
Make me wan-na be
Da needle in da GROOVE
In yo' music machine
(I'm sayin')
Shake, shake
Try ta make it break
Hesitation is a big
Mistake
Breakfast has always come
After our dreams, so
Won't ya cum into my bowl
An' soak up the cream
Shake, shake
Try ta make it break
(C'mon, Jack
Don' be slack...
Come across wit' some
Cracker Jack)

Monday, January 24, 2011

We Legion

And when challenged
they chanted out (defiant)

"WE are many...!
WE are Legion...!

Leeeeegion....
Leeeeegion....

We are Legion!

We are...
We ARE...
We ARRRRRE...

We are WEEEE...

We leeegion
We leeegion

Weee
Weee
Weee
We are weee
We are reee

Re RRR Reee
We Re Weee
Re We Reee

Reee
Re Leee
We Re Leee
Re Leee

Reee Leee gion...
Reee Ligion...

Religion..."

Saturday, January 1, 2011

The Hound is Dead, Long Live the Hound


There is nothing quite so effective
as a little down time
to bring things into focus...
when the dust can settle,
the air can clear,
the noise can fade,
and we are permitted
to have a contiguous
series of quiet moments
wherein we can reacquaint
with our true selves.

My time of disconnection
on an exotic island
has served.

Walking,
running,
on a beach strewn with
starfish, hermit crabs
and conches,
I happened upon myself.
I must have known that I'd be there.

A much needed reunion.

New Year's is a meaningless
Hallmark Holiday, like the others,
but it is true that,
if we are truly alive,
we periodically change,
re-invent ourselves,
survive.

Year's End is as good an occasion
as any other.

In this case, however,
I will simply get back to doing
what I had been doing
before I was so rudely interrupted.

Hello Shelley, Keats, Lord B.
Old Scratch, like Mick,
I'll show some sympathy,
Farewell,
all self-made prisons,
conventions
that kept me
under lock and key.
Libertine,
that's who I'll always be.

Come close, lass,
My fire may burn.
But ev'rything that's giv'n
Must yield something in return.

You had better,
It's essential,
You must.
Before our vessels rust.

And all who cannot fly
Shall be left behind.

Goodbye 2010, the old (new?) the Hound is dead.
Hello 2011, the new (old?) Hound has arrived.

Let the passions run wild,
my dark flower,
and our juices flow,
my stinger is ready
so "on with the show".