Thursday, April 20, 2017

See Oh Too?

Global warming is all a
Damn Kaustik LYE!
Frankly, my deer,
what ME worry,
what… me sigh?
Who gives a white-tails butt,
I ask?
The NRA?
The Donald?
The Koched-out Bros?
Anyway,
Since we're all goin' to hades
in an express hand-basket;
I say,
"Push the pedal to the metal!"
All this global climate change hooey
Is all a bunch of liberal brainwashing…
Phooey!
It’s designed to keep the
Trashin' of good old Mama Earth
In the claws of patriotic,
Unconscionable billionaire leaders
(who we all know
care a lot about
their miles underground,
climate & bot controlled
resort city breeders
built by Morlox Inc.
et. al.)
And tightly kept in the mitts of
Namby-pamby,
Conspiracy minded fears.
“Do-gooders”
Who fake their crocodile tears.
(and thank Goodness,
out of the gentle hands of
us, the true salt-of-the-earth.)
Verily,
Those
Self-loving,
Self-wonderful &
Self-awe inspiring
Beyond wealthy
kings,
(mostly mutated
Y chromosome
defectives)
Were BORN to
&
DESERVE
to rule!
In the hell

Of their own makings...

Sunday, May 29, 2016

Saint Marian Havens: A Medley

Intelligence is a dangerous tool
in the hands of an incompetent fool...

...so, I live in a home where
the rough fellows roam
and fear that I cannot cope play.
Where seldom is heard
an encouraging word
and my eyes are all cloudy all day.
Oh, home,
home of deranged,
where the fear and the last hopes do play.
Where seldom is heard,
an encouraging word
and the skies are all cloudy all day...

...while strolling through the dark one day
in the very, scary month of May,
I was taken by surprise,
by a guy with frying eyes,
while strolling through the dark one day...

...nothin' could be finah
than to be in Carolina
in the mor-or-OR-ning.
Nothin' could be finah,
than to eat at
Sixty-Ninah Dinah
in the mor-or-OR-ning...

...someone's in the kitchen
at the Sixty-Ninah Dinah,
someone's in the kitchen, I know.
Someone's in the kitchen with Di-NAH,
justa strummin' on an ol' banjo.
Someone in there 'long side Dinah,
someone's in the kitchen, I say.
Someone's in the kitchen with Di-NAH,
That someone's cookin' up a soufflé.
That someone's in the kitchen with Di-NAH,
And that someone's gonna be there all day ....

...3-6-9, the bets are on the line
and the nags were runnin' wacky,
so the Goose drinks wine.
Then the Monkey spit tobacky
on the Streetcar Lion,
So the Lion broke down,
and the Monkey choked up,
and the Goose started cryin',
when they lost a pretty bundle
on Ol' Butter Cup...

...incompetence is a dangerous tool
in the hands of an intelligent fool.

Friday, May 27, 2016

What Can I Say?

What can I tell you?
I have nothing new to say,
I wasted all my silly words
When I spilled them yesterday.
You didn’t listen then,
You certainly will not now,
So, why even bother?

In truth, I know not how
To get my point across,
Or the way to phrase my mind.
For it’s simply just a coin toss,
More or less,
Whether you think of me in kind.

Forty or more years together
And not once did I hear you say,
What your thinking was,
Or your feelings were
About my poems I pray.

It seems I’ve spent eternity
Inside your mind and soul,
Trying to understand you,
Trying to get to know
Who you truly are,
Deeply where your light does glow.

But, as for you it seems,
What I am you give little thought,
Of what lives within me there
Where dwell my hopes and dreams.
All you seem to have a care,
Is for what is sold or bought.

Mistress Nightmare

Dearest Ms. Night,

I'm sending this little note,
As a follow-up of the one you wrote,
Which expressed your sincere desire,
That I turn my light into darkness and
My sun filled days over to you,
Mistress Night.
But, I aspire that you understand,
That your demand,
Of losing my life of brightness,
My life of summer fine,
And this against my will,
Without a fight,
Is not mine.

Insincerely yours,
And good night.

Recognition

The Old One sat grounded,
His back against a silver ladder
That towered to the stars.


Looking up at me, he said:
“I know who you are, Samael…”
He paused...

He asked:
“Do you know whom I am, as well?”

I looked up from him to the tower soaring.
Its fading end seemed bound tight
Between bright Venus and dull Mars,
The twin powers of the night.

“No, Old One,” shaking my head,
“I know not who you were, may be, or are.”

He nodded...

He asked:
“What DO you know, O Samael?”

In a roaring,
I thought:
If that is Heaven, I’m in hell.

I looked down again into his
Deep and infinite eyes,
Darker than midwinter skies
And deeper than Tantalus’s well.

“Old One, about you, 
I can only guess,
And of you, I can only know…”

I looked up again at 
Venus cool and Mars hot.

“Go on, he urged. “Yes?”

“All I can truly know is; 
What you are not.”

Near Jericho

SCENE:
Desert wilderness, 1,000 feet below sea level. Evening…

CHARACTERS:
A man
A machine

[The Man sits with outstretched legs in the dwindling shade of a cliff, his back against a boulder, his bearded chin touching his clavicles, his long and many braided black hair hangs past his shoulders. The man’s left hand is palm upward in his lap, his right hand rests upon a head sized rock, palm downwards. The man is worn by a monthly progression of daily heat and thirst and cold nights hungering for physical and spiritual nourishment, and is continually bewildered by thunderous truths and constantly amazed by dazzling dreams. 

The Machine stands over the man and experiences none of these things.]

ACT ONE:

THE MACHINE: If you hunger and are the Son of Man, command that stone you hold to become bread. Why suffer so? But, if you are the Son of God, command all of these stones to become loaves of bread and feast to your heart’s content!

THE MAN: You know what is written.

THE MACHINE: I know all that has been revealed.

THE MAN: Then, “you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by the spirit of the breath of YHVH?”

THE MACHINE:  Yes, I am aware of this writing. Also, I am aware of another…

[Before The Man could blink once, The Machine reached down and took The Man’s hand from the rock, pulled him upright and into the air, flying to the holy city, Jerusalem, and settled both of them upon the tallest tower of the temple.]

THE MACHINE: ...writing. Thus: “No evil shall be allowed to befall you, no plague come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.”
Therefore; if you be the Son of God, throw yourself down!


THE MAN: Yet, it is also written: “You shall not test the YHVH, nor put your Elohim to the test, as you tested him at Massah.”

[The Machine grabbed The Man around his waist and flew him straight upwards until The Man had trouble breathing the suddenly cold and rarefied air.]

THE MACHINE: Do you see all the lands and seas below us? All of the kingdoms of mankind? Over all of this I will give to you the authority and glory of Emperor, for it has been given to me to give to whom I will. If you will only fall to your knees and worship me, all of this I will gladly give to you.

THE MAN: Still, isn’t it written: “For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who is not partial and takes no bribe. He executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and loves the foreigner, giving him food and clothing. You should love the foreigner, also, for you were once foreigners in the land of Egypt. You shall revere, serve and hold fast to the YHVH your Elohim, and by this name you shall swear?”

SCENE:
Desert wilderness, 1,000 feet below sea level. Morning…

[The man sits with outstretched legs in the brightening reflections from a cliff face, his back and his long and many braided black hair against a boulder, his radiant face glimmering in the dawn. The man’s left hand is palm upward in his lap, his right hand rests upon a vellum scroll, palm downwards. The man is worn by a monthly progression of daily heat and thirst and cold nights no longer hungering for physical and spiritual nourishment, yet still is continually awed by thunderous dreams and constantly amazed by dazzling truths. 

The machine is gone.]

THE BLACK [a song]

He said

I feel you
I feel your love like
I feel your pain

I need you
I need you like
I need the grape like
I need the grain

Before I die I
Wanna be on acid
I wanna be in the colors
Before I'm in the black

He said

I feel you
I feel your love like
I feel your pain

I need you
I need you like
I need the sun like
I need the rain

Living life was never
Always easy
It's like a wobbly top
Of white and black

He said

I feel you
I feel your love like
I feel your pain

I love you
I love you like
I love the sun like
I love the rain

Before I die I
Wanna hit of hashish
I wanna hit a high note
Before I hit the black

He said

After I die I
Know our love will be
Always with me 
As it lights me through
The black...

He said...


Dedicated to Jason & Steve Wilson-Chism