The Beasts

Petty

My mother was quite petty.

Ridiculous in age!

He dented the spaghetti

Tin. It made her rage.

Goddamnit! Am I like her?

Can I regress and change?

Dig her up and strike her?
Withdraw and just be strange?

2-16-14

 

Mark

Her father is a sh-t. I told her so.

Injuries commencing years ago.

Promises! He makes them in his sleep.

Promises he never means to keep.

Hypnotized – a member of the herd

That loves it's daddies – she believes each word.

Up she comes with hope. Than down she falls.

Such cruelty and disillusion galls.

Instead of recognizing his abuse,

She spit out with the word that Christ would use.

And haughty with religion, knocked me dead,

And didn't hear another word I said.

The memory is distant, and it blurs.

Every man his devil. She has hers.

2-16-14

2000 Years

Christ two thousand years has run

This misbegotten planet,

Drowning witches, burning books,

Arresting folks at orgies.

Ya basta, bastard! That's enough!

Send Jesus home to heaven.

Liberate the minds of men,

And lay the ancient horrors!

Gandhi was a gentle man.

What else will recognize him?

His soul was rife with Jesus,

And they shot him in the dark.

2-15-13

The Beasts

People can be nasty

Regarding what they want.

It makes me wonder

How the beasts were raised.

Completely without talents,

Ability or skills,

It makes me wonder

What their mothers praised.

You cannot best the ogre.

He's vicious and he's mean.

And he calls himself

Humanity.

Nor can you avoid him.

He's legion and he's life,

But pin him to the cork of poetry.

2-15-14

 

Advances

Housman for his form -

Millay her gentle touch -

And Keats for his unbounded

Mad attempt at beauty -

I am going crazy.

Every day I'm older.

My poesy is changing,

Or so it seems to me.

Before when I was younger

And people made advances,

I responded eagerly,

And then they went away.

The ego of the public

Is not to be imagined!

They think I make advances.

When I never do.

2-14-14

 

Respite

Does everybody need

A mother and a god?
Sitting in a cloister

Staring at the night -

Thinking of the moon -

Following the ocean -

In my imagination

I'm sleeping on the sand.

2-14-14