Down in the Dirt has published a number of my poems in 2017 and 2018. Check it out.
Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen
And Other Poems
By Jake Cosmos Aller
Published in Down in the Dirt
Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen
John (“Jake”) Cosmos Aller
While reading Charles Bukowski poetry
On the metro ride home
Listening to Buddha bar music
On my oh too hip IPod
I begin to see myself as I was
Over 30 years ago when I was merely a bit player
A minor character in a Charles Bukowski poem
A wild young underemployed intellectual
Hanging out in dismal bars and dives all over Asia and California
Hanging with disreputable women and drunks and drinkers
And characters out of his kinds of haunts
A mad poet bard of the underground
A drunken poet in a drunken bum show
That nightly played in his head
Then one day I met the women of my dreams
And went down a different path
A long slow path to respectability
And now 30 years later
I am no longer a wild man
I am still a poet at heart
But I am now also a bureaucrat
In a button down suite
Doing the people’s business
Working for the Government
I’ve become the Man
Sometimes I wonder
Would I have been better off
Going down that another path
Would I have ended up
Somewhere else
Doing something else
Would I have been as happy
Would I have been as successful?
There is no answer that satisfies
The longing in my heart
For that wild thing
That still lurks beneath
It’s civilized cover
And I know that I am still
A mad poet at heart
Railing against the injustice of the world
As I work day by day in the belly of the great beast of State
I recall the ancient Chinese saying,
“Confucian during the day while Taoist rebel at night”
Playing out in my head and nightly dreams
In the true American Upper class patrician tradition
I close the book and look out the window
Get off the train, and walk slowly home
And realize I had no choice
But to take the path that I’ve trodden on
And so I put aside my misgivings
And say goodbye to my “Bukowskian”desires
For another night of domestic contentment
Was it worth it all to take the conventional path
And not take the bohemian road to hell and back
I look at my wife and realize
I had no choice, had no choice
But to follow her to the ends of the earth
And beyond by her side as we walked our path
Of shared destiny
Goodbye Charles Bukowski wherever you are
May I meet you in a bar in the next life
And figure out where we should have gone
Until then the drinks are on me.
Order this writing in the book
Negative Space
(the 2017 poetry, flash fiction
& art collection anthology)
natural light2019 Scars Lit Calendar
get the 298 page poem,
flash fiction & art
collection anthology
as a 6″ x 9″ ISBN#
paperback book:
Driving to the end of the world
The end times approach
Driving through the smoke-filled air
North of Mt Shasta
Heart of Bigfoot country
End of the world images
Fill my head with dismal
end of the world visions
the apocalypse is upon us
The wicked evil as hell
blood red sun
Leers at me with an evil grin
Screaming at me
What fools these mortals be
Global climate change
Is as real as the smoky fires
That Burn and burn and burn
As our leaders turn turn turn away
They Can’t handle the truth
They will sacrifice all life on earth
So the oil and coal barons
The so-called masters of the universe
Can make their obscene profits
Sending the rest of us to hell
Tuesday, 2 January 2018
Merry Christmas from your friends at AT&T
Sometimes I wonder
About the morality of the corporate giants
That rule our world
On the day before Christmas
AT and T received a huge Christmas gift
From the President of the United States
The biggest tax cut in U.S. History
And the President proclaimed
That it would unleash jobs jobs jobs
Apparently, ATT never got the memo
And they announced thousands of layoffs
The day before Christmas
A true PR nightmare
That could have been avoided
They could have waited two weeks
And announced their restructuring plan
After the New Years
But no they decided to show the world
Their true colors
Heartless soulless monsters
Who don’t give a damn
About their workers, their customers
Or their employees
And certainly are not Christians
Though I am sure that they think
They are doing what Jesus would
All they care about
Is feathering their own pockets
Is it any wonder
That Americans hate the big corporations
That rule us like ancient emperors?
And will they fade away
Into the dustbin of history
One can only pray
For such a Christmas miracle
It’s a Gun Situation, Mr President
Mr. President
You are wrong once again.
You said that the tragic events in Texas
And Las Vegas were not “gun situations”
But rather, were mental health problems
And that in Texas if there had been gun controls
Perhaps fewer people would have died
Mr. President
I know you a smart man,
The smartest man in the world
According to you
So please contemplate this fact:
According to the latest findings,
It is a gun situation
In fact, the reason the U.S.
Has so many gun deaths
Is because we have so many guns,
45% of the world’s guns in fact
And 33 percent of the world’s shooters
Are Americans killing other Americans
And most of them, the majority of them,
Are White People killing other people
Not murdering terrorists.
Most are in fact,
Out-of-control citizens.
So Mr. President
When will you come to your senses
And do what 90 percent of the public wants,
Enact nationwide effective gun controls?
And tell the NRA
they can take their blood money elsewhere
When Mr. President
When will you act
When will you take charge
And become a President of the people
Instead of the President of the NRA?
When will this Madness end?
Yet again we turn on the TV
And witness horrible scenes
Of unparalleled violence, hatred, and despair
An old man consumed by his own demons
Opens fire from a hotel room
Killing 58 people injuring hundreds
In Las Vegas, Sin City
And the cry goes out throughout the land
Why yet again this tragedy?
The usual suspects are rounded up
It’s the culture, stupid, cry the conservative voices
Guns are the price of our freedom
Guns Don’t Kill People
The only solution is more guns for everyone
The only solution for a bad guy with a gun
Is a good guy with a gun
An armed society is a polite society
No, it’s the guns, cry the liberal pundits
We must confiscate the guns
Ban Assault weapons
And join the rest of the world
Where such carnage does not occur
And we sit around and argue
Knowing that there will be a next time
And another time and time and time again
Until the end of time
What is the sickness in our souls
That allows for this hatred to fester so
Deep within the minds of our killers
Nothing will change
Until we confront the evil
That lurks deep within each of us
There will be another Las Vegas
Soon enough
Donald Trump, Our Great Compassionate Dear Leader
As an elderly man falls
In front of him
During a charity dinner event
Hitting his head bleeding out
Quote the MAGA Donald Trump our future dear leader
“It is disgusting. I mean the guy was bleeding
all over the nice marble floor”
Donald Trump the self-proclaimed
saviour of the nation
Could not be bothered to lift a finger
“Thank God for the marines who took out the garbage
But they left a mess on the nice marble floor
And ruined their nice uniforms”
and disrupted a fine dinner
Did he call the grieving family the next day
Of course not
Quote the Great Leader, the Donald
“I forgot to call.” That is not his thing at all
And still, I wonder
How such a disgusting excuse
For a human being became
The leader of the greatest nation
On earth
And what it means for the future
Is it proof that we are doomed
That America is in the final stage
Of terminal decline?
Or will Americans take
out the garbage
From the white house?
Fake Calls by John (“Jake”) Cosmos Aller
Every day I get woken up
As the sun comes up
By my phone ringing
With a fake call
It seems that the only people
Whoever bother to call me
Are the fake call people
Who all call me
With fake sincerity
Offering me a great deal
On this and that scam
I curse at them
Yell at them
Mutter obscenities in foreign tongues
And block their calls
Yet it does not seem to matter
The next call will be
Yet another fake call
Am I doomed to receive
Fake calls until I day I die
I turn on my computer
And read my fake news accounts
And watch TV for the latest fake news
And the politicians lying
And the criminals scheming
To take my money
The Zappa song comes to mind
You will obey me while I lead you
And eat the garbage that I feed you
Until the day that we don’t need you
Don’t go for help . . . no one will heed you
Your mind is totally controlled
It has been stuffed into my mold
And you will do as you are told
Until the rights to you are sold
the Ugly Writer has published a number of my poems including my poems about “Sleaze” and “Searching for God”
Heading Back to the Past
While the rest of the world
Embraces the energy of the future
Our great denier of the truth
president trump
wants to boldly take America back
To the 19th century era of oil, and coal
Yet perhaps it does not matter in the end
As long as we have one another
We will overcome
The darkness will flee the land
It Has Been Done Before
Before Trump’s Wall
There were many other walls
trump’s wall
The Berlin Wall
The Great Wall
Hadrian’s Wall
All the walls of the ancient world
All failed
To keep the enemies out
The enemies of freedom
The enemies of the state
Still came across the border
To loot, steal, rape and plunder
And nothing could stop
The flood of history
The Grim Reaper Is late
the grim reaper
is late
he is behind his quota
so he unleashes
the ravens of death
the ravens of despair
the ravens of madness
they spread out
all over the world
infecting all
with madness
as the world descends
consumed by hate
the grim reaper
smiles his sardonic grin
thinking of all the souls
he will harvest that day
as he carries out
the mandate
of his satanic majesty
The House of the Damned
deep in the woods
in the swamps of the deepest bayou
lies an old abandoned cabin
few have ever visited
it looks long abandoned
but there are stories
legends
of a creature
from beyond time itself
who lives deep in the swamp
devouring everything he comes across
But he hungers for human flesh
once in a while
he keeps a human slave
who goes into town
and drums up business
for his master
the hunters are recruited
and they are brought to the house
where they are commissioned
to go into the woods
and hunt down prisoners
and shoot them dead
and bring back the bodies
for the bounty
and the hunt is on
and the prisoners are caught
and the monster of the deep swamps
has a feast
and the hunters
are added to the fire
a few are left alive
zombies under his control
and so the house of the dead
continues to haunt
the deep swamps
Searching for God
a homeless man
camped out
on the streets
of any city
just another broken down soul
looking for something
and then I see him
painting the face of God
on the ground
and I know
that God is everywhere
and sometimes
only the down and out
can see and feel God
The rest of us
are blind to the divine
SLEAZE
Sleaze Sleaze Sleaze
Sleaze Sleaze Sleaze Sleaze Sleaze Sleaze Sleaze Sleaze
Nothing but Sleaze
Surrounds me 24/7
S
L
E
A
Z
E
Led by the evil Sleaze King
King Donald Trump
the one true sleaze King
The Sleaze King from TV
Are we doomed to live
In a world run by sleaze kings
And ruled by sleaze values
Are we addicted to sleaze
And need our sleaze fix daily
As we turn on the sleaze TV
And see nothing but sleaze
Oozing out of our TV sets?
SLEAZE 2
Sleaze surrounds us 24/7
Lots of sleaze on the TV
Everywhere we go nothing but sleaze
All the time 24/7 sleaze rules the air
Zappa had it right calling it the slime
Everything is nothing but slime oozing out of our TV’s
They are Next God Says
God is in his cosmic control room
The ultimate situation room
Where here he watches over mankind 24/7
One day he reads
About protesters
Protesting the operation
of Emergency helicopters
Because they’re too noisy
they stir up dust
and damage their properties
And are just inconvenient as hell
just too bloody inconvenient
the protestors are demanding
that the helicopters be grounded
Disregarding the fact
That they save lives
Given the hellish traffic conditions
God is furious at the callous attitude
The casual disregard for human life
And the pettiness of the protesters
He calls up his chief angels
And reads them the recent articles
All of the angels
Are furious at the callous attitudes of the protesters
God calls the grim reaper
His contractor who handles the details of death
God says I have a commission for you
The Grim Reaper had read the article
As he too monitors the world 24/7
He laughs
and says I know what to do
Obviously, they all have to die
In a horrific accident
and can’t get to the hospital in time
Because they are stuck in traffic
Now you’re talking God said
But I want you to break protocol
Just before they die show up
And explain to them why
They are about to die
That would be poetic justice God said
And you know I’m all about that
Everyone laughs
God has a sense of humor after all
The grim reaper mordantly salutes the boss
And goes about his grim task
The idea for the “Poets Facing the Wall” anthology was born right on the U.S. – Mexico border. It has been both the anti-Mexican/immigrant rhetoric and the deafening silence or apathy of most Americans including many living along the border that made the need for such a publication a must. People need to realize what this wall truly represents. At a time when border crossings are down, and many immigrants are actually going back south to their respective homes, why is the wall more needed now than when the influx was higher? Is its true purpose to stop people from coming in? Or could it be that it is meant as a symbol to cast a message broadly and clearly to the world beyond our southern border?
“DON’T STEP IN MY YARD. EVEN IF YOU ARE RUNNING FROM DANGER. I DON’T CARE. STAY OUT!”
The Statue of Liberty stands on an island turning its eyes toward Europe with a soft demeanor, gently posed holding the torch to light the way for the weary traveler seeking refuge from the darkness of the world they have left behind. The Statue of Liberty’s torch is the light that represents the dream of a better future, where the sun shines equally upon all who look to it seeking its warmth. The statue itself is the guardian and guarantor of that promise.
According to the National Park Service’s website,
“The torch is a symbol of enlightenment. The Statue of Liberty’s torch lights the way to freedom showing us the path to Liberty. Even the Statue’s official name represents her most important symbol ‘Liberty Enlightening the World’.”
By contrast, what does a non-human-like and unnecessary barrier say when its faceless and eyeless semblance stares coldly at our neighbors in Latin America? It speaks of a greater problem than illegal immigration. It speaks of an inability to recognize that without immigration, the U.S. would have been impossible. People in our country like and respect those who “tell it like it is”. And in this case, it is a fact that our country was founded by illegal immigrants first, then legal immigration became the preferred institutionalized method of entry. But there are exceptions. Asylum seekers and refugees must be given a chance to be heard and helped. Especially, since data shows that the vast majority of all immigrants actually prop up our economy; they do not drain it.
But then the question of race comes into play. And that is the biggest obstacle to our future. Perhaps, more than anything, the wall will represent not the need for security form evildoers, but the failure to defeat false beliefs of racial superiority. This has been the greatest stain in our past. The cement holding the construction of those false beliefs must not be allowed to solidify, for like all walls that have ever been erected to divide it will not succeed. Only bridges and roads can take humanity onward toward the future. Let this anthology assist in taking a step in that direction.
Below is the list of accepted works and their authors. (Not in order of appearance in the final publication.)
An Inheritance of Fear
By Jill Evans
As We Forgive Those
By Roger Sippl
Ave Blanca
Seres Jaime Magaña
Blue Again
By C. R. Resetarits
BLUES FOR JOSE ANTONIO ELENA RODRIGUEZ
(Traditional 12 Bar Blues Song)
by Laurie Jurs
Construction of First Border Wall Segment to Begin
in a South Texas Wildlife Refuge
By Kristin Barendsen
THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HELD AND HELD
by Catherine Lee
My Exit
By Richard Nester
-The Greatest, Most Beautiful Soliloquy EVER!
-Ten Commandments Updated
By Rick Blum
Guardian of the Mountains
By Michael Garrigan
-I Am Chicano
-You Make the Call
By Sammy Ybarra
Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness
By Miranda Rocha
Myopia of belonging
By Sunayna Pal
Northward Bound
By Ana Maria Fores Tamayo
-Nuestros niños
-Tinta negra
By Xanath Carraza
Oh, Say Can You See
By Wendy Baron
On Day 1, We Will Begin Working
By Natalie D-Napoleon
-Wide Open
-The Fool’s Game
-Blurred Vision
By Teri Garcia-Ruiz
-ok | walk on the way
-yr assignment spend a day here along
By Steven Alvarez
-Blood, Sweat and Tears
-Conflict
-Survival
By Vanessa Caraveo
Hollywood
By Sharon Lundy
Musings
by Sheena Pillai Singh
-Song for America XXIII (the nation’s anthem)
-Song for America XXV
-Song for America XXVIII (for Marvin Gaye)
By Fernando Esteban Flores
-De este lado del muro
-Rima infantil
By Gabriel González Núñez
Ten Feet Higher
By Richard King Perkins II
The Promised Wall
By Kimmy Alan
-Shelter
-This Just In
-Wall
By Sandra Anfang
-Closure
-more harm than good
By Linda M. Crate
-Walls Divide Us
-Mr. Trump Tear Down This Wall
By John “Jake” Cosmos Aller
Walking Around
By John M. Bellinger
“A, Homeboy”
by Johnny Barboza
-The Wall
-Lament for Emma Lazarus
-Ghost Wall
By Robbi Nester
We are Sisters!
By Patty York Raymond
-What I Need Now
-In Concert
By Dorothy Baird
-The Travel North
-Keep my dream Alive
By Jose Rafael Castilleja
-GRETEL
-WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE
-CROSSINGS
By Jude Brigley
Borradores
by Octavio Quintanilla
Thanks to all of the poets who submitted their work for evaluation. The accepted submissions are of great significance and literary quality. The poems along with the introduction by Enclave Magazine’s founder and editor, Hector Luis Alamo, make this anthology one of the most important and well-crafted we have put together. I am proud to have my name associated with this project. It should become required reading for public schools, colleges, and universities. We are looking to a late October or early November publication. We will announce an official publishing date in less than two weeks.
My good friend at Duane’s Poetree has published another one of my poems. here it is. It was written after eating a delicious BLT at the Ashland Oregon Co-Op which has one of the best delis’s on the West Coast. Check it out.
I like to start my day with a hot cup of coffee I pound down the coffee First thing I do every day as the dawning sun Lights up my lonesome room
Yeah, but not just a simple cup of java Joe, but a God damn snarling sarcastic smarmy cup of coffee I mean, – we are talking about an alcoholic, all speed ahead, always hot, always fresh, always there when I need it, angry, attitude talk to the hand Ztude, bad, bad assed, beats breaking, beatnik, bluesy, bitter, bitchy, bombs away, capitalistic, caffeinated up the ass, cinematic, communistic, Colombian grown, Costa Rican inspired, Cowabunga to the max, crazy assed, devilishly angelic, divine, divinely inspired, dyslexic, epic, extreme vetting, evil eye, expensive, erotic vision inducing, Ethiopian coffee house brewed, euphoric, freaky, freazoid, foxy, Frenched kissed, French brewed, funkified, foxy lady, graphic, GOD in my coffee, with Allah, Ganesh, Jesus, Kali, Buddha, Christians, Durga, Hindus, Mohamed, Jesus and Mo and their friend, the cosmic bar maid, Sai Babai, Shiva, Taoists, Zoroastrians, drinking my god damned coffee in Hell; growling, gnarly, happy, hard as ice, Hawaian blessed, high as a kite, hippie, hip, hipster, hip hoppy, hot as hell yet strangely sweet as heaven, jazzy, jealous, Kerouac approved, kick ass, kick my god damn ass to Tuesday, kick down the doors and take no prisoners, grown in the Vietnam highlands by ex-Vietcong, Guatemalan grown, kiss ass, illegal in every state, imported from all over the god damn world, insane, lovely, loony, lonely, lonesome, malodorous mean old rotten, motherfucking, nasty, narcotic, never whatever, never meh, never cold, not approved by the CIA, not approved by DHS, not approved for human consumption by the FDA, not your daddy’s sissified corporate cup of coffee, NOT DECAFE coffee, not your Denny’s truck driver weak as brown water cup of fake coffee, not your establishment friendly cup of coffee, Not your FBI coffee, Not FAKE Herbal coffee substitute, but a real cup of coffee, not your farmer brothers dinner crap, not made in America for Americans, not safe for work, not your Starbucks average expensive overpriced crappy corporate chain cup of coffee, Not pretentious, Not White House approved, not State Department safe, nuclear, Not Patriotic, operatic, Peets’s coffee approved, paranoid, pornographic, psychotic, pontific, politically aware, rapping, rhyming, right here, right now in River city, rock and roll up the Yazoo, sad, sadistic, sarcastic, sassy, satanic, schizoid, shitting, silly, sexy, smarmy, smelly, smooth, snarky, snarling, stupid, stinking, sweet as honey, sweat inducing, symphonic, Trump can’t handle this coffee, vengeful, Wagnerian, wicked, with nutmeg and cinnamon swirls, with a hint of stevia, with a hint of vanilla, with a hint of rum, with a hint of whisky, with a hint of cherry, with a hint of fruit overtones, with a hint of drugs spicing up the coffee, spendific, speeding, splendid, superior accept no substitutes, survived the Vietnam war, the Iraq war, the Afghan war, the first and Second Korean war, World War 11, the war on poverty, the war on drugs, the war on black people, the sexual revolution, Soulful as a summer’s night in MOTOWN- James Brown approved, TOP approved, Berkeley approved, the coffee that Jimmy Hendrix drank before he died, the coffee that Elvis drank on his last breakfast, the coffee that Barry White crooned as he drank his cup of coffee – and the coffee that made the white boy play stand up and play that funky music, the coffee that made Jonny B Goode play his guitar, and made Jonny bet the devil his soul after he drank his morning cup of righteous coffee and the coffee that make the Rolling Stones Rock and Roll, the coffee your mother warned you against drinking, the coffee that Napoleon drank when he became the Emperor of all Europe, the Coffee that Beethoven drank when he wrote the Ninth symphony, the coffee that Mozart drank as he wrote his last symphony, the coffee that Lincoln drank before he was killed, the Hemingway drank before he killed himself, the coffee that started the 60’s, and ended the 20th century, the coffee that Lenin drank as he plotted revolution, the coffee that Hitler and Stalin drank with FDR as they divided up the world after World War 11, the cup that JFK drank before he was blown away, the coffee Jerry drinks while driving in cars with random celebrities and political figures, the coffee that Jon Stewart drinks before he goes on an epic take down of some foolish politico, the cup of Arabic coffee that Sadaam drank the day he was executed, the coffee that GW and Cheney drank when they bombed Baghdad, the Indian cup of coffee that Bid Laden drank before 9-11 and just before the seals blew his ass to hell, the cup of coffee that Tiger Woods drank with his mistresses while playing a 3, 000 dollar round of golf at Sandy Lane golf course in Barbados, the last legal drug that does what drugs should do, the cup of coffee that Obama drank when he became President, Vietnamese, Vienna brew, wacky, whimsical, Whisky Tango Foxtrot, wild, weird, wonderful, WOW, Yabba dabba doo! Yada Yada yada Zappa’s favorite cup of cosmic coffee, and Zorro’s last cup of coffee, Good to the last drop rolled into one simple cup of hot coffee
As I pound down that first cup of coffee And fire up my synaptic nerve endings with endless supplies Of caffeine induced neuron enhancing chemicals
I face the dawning day with trepidation and mind-numbing fear I turn on the TV and watch the smarmy newscasters in their perfect hair Lying through their teeth about the great success the government is having
Following the great leader’s latest pronouncements I want to scream and shoot the TV and run out side Shouting “Stop the world. I want to get off this fucking crazy planet”
The earth does not care a whit about my attitude It merely shrugs and moves around the Sun In its appointed daily run
And I sit down The madness dissipating a bit And enjoy my second cup Of heaven and hell In my morning cup of Joe
Ode to Coffee
Mistress of sacred love Sacred lady of desire You start my day Setting my heart on fire
With your dark delicious flavor And throughout the day Whenever the mean old blues come by You chase them away
With your bitter sweet ambrosial brew Every time I inhale your witches’ brew I am filled with power, light and love And everything is all right Jack
If only for a few fleeting minutes I love you oh coffee goddess In all your magical forms
In the dark coffee of the dawning day In the sizzling coffee in the mid-morning break In the afternoon siesta break
And in the post dinner dessert drink I love you my coffee mistress You are my refuge From this horrid world
And you are my secret lover Never disappoint me, ever I’ve never had a bad cup Of that I can be sure Even the dismal coffee Served at Denny’s at 3 am
Is still sweet loving coffee Even the farmer brother’s diner coffee Excites me and gets me going Asking for another cup of divine delight
Coffee always is there It is always on and piping hot With hidden dark secrets Swirling in its liquid essence
Coffee is my last vice My only legal vice left Coffee does not cheat on me It is always faithful, always true
It does not turn on its friends And all it asks in return Is that you come back Cup after cup after cup
A good cup of coffee Is a little bit of heaven In a cup of dark liquid hell
Coffee is like a drug But a good drug that does what is should And never complains It does not get grouchy It does not hurt you
It does not make you crazy But allows the muse to come out And play with it
Coffee led to the American Revolution As patriots drank coffee To rebel against the aristocratic English tea
Coffee started the London Stock Market And started the gossip mills running Every great invention
Was fed by coffee’s sweet brew sweet allure All the great thinkers All the great leaders All were enslaved to coffee’s magic
Yeah I sing my praises Of the great glorious coffee lady Long may she continue To be my sweet companion
Long may coffee continue To rule my heart And set my heart on fire
I love thee Mistress coffee And sometimes I think You love me too
No More Coffee Blues
I love coffee
Always have
And coffee has loved me back
But lately I have soured on her
Soured on the whole coffee scene
On the harshness of the morning brew
And the promises it makes
As I sip of its nectar
Drawn into its lair
Drinking drop by drop
As the caffeine takes over
Rewriting my every nerve
Turning me into a slave
For its perverted pleasure
Yes, I love coffee
But I am afraid
Coffee is a harsh mistress
Demanding so much of me
Promising the sun
And delivering the Moon
As I drink her swill
Deepening under her influence
I have the coffee blues
Can’t live without her
Can’t live with her
I try
But tea does not cut it
Not really
Booze does not do it
At least not in the morning
Yoga is not enough of a buzz
Nor is the runner’s high
And I am afraid deadly afraid of cocaine
And speed and drugs and energy drinks
And so, I remain a slave to coffee
My only legal drug
As I sip another and fall under her seductive spread
Once more failing in my resolve
To skip coffee for that day
That morning that moment
I shall never be free of her spell
Ever and she knows it
As she beckons me
Every morning with her intoxicating smell
And I come to her and drink her brew
And become her slave again and again
Unhinged Lunatic Howling at the Full Moon
On the night of the blood red super full moon I sat in an evil, depraved godforsaken bar Drinking drams of demented, fermented dream dew
Washed down by endless rounds of whiskey rum, tequila, vodka, soju and of course beer
drinking with my buddies the Jack Daniels Gang Drinking my way to Hell and beyond Just as fast as I could
twenty damn drinks too sober Just an unhinged lunatic Dreaming of howling at the full moon
Watching the world walk by Looking at all the fine-looking babes Walking by the street
Thinking wild, erotic thoughts Of endless wild libertine passions
When into the bar That din of cosmic depravity
Walked the most beautiful women In the Universe
So wild, so free So wonderfully alive
I did not know what to do As this vision of delight Sauntered through the bar
In a skin-tight leather pant Looked so fine That my eyeballs hurt
And finally, I had to say something So, I gathered up my manly courage And walked up to her And she looked at me
And instantly bewitched my soul With a devilish grin
I lost all reason And became a raving lunatic
Unhinged lunatic Howling at the blood red full moon
Foaming at the mouth A wild, free werewolf
Howling at the lunatic light Of the blood red blue full Moon
April 30 In Search of America 1975 – Hitch hiking Tales
When I was young and foolish Broke and stubborn
I hitchhiked across the USA Started in Salt Lake City Where my greyhound bus pass Was stolen
The station manager Could have helped me But refused to do so
Threaten to call the cops When I grabbed my bags Without the stolen tags
I said Go ahead But I am so out of here
Wondered about Salt Lake City Went to a bar Found I had to buy my booze
Next door And they would mix it for me Had to order food too
After a bloody Mary And a burger
I walked about town Saw the Mormon Temple Finally about 3 pm
It was time to hit the road Did not look back
Ended up in Cody Wyoming Got a room shower Steak beer Using my rapidly depleted cash Spent 25 dollars Money really went far Back in those days
A band of professional Communist agitators Gave me a ride
To Des Moines Lots of weed, booze And politics later
Got off the road Slept outside
Next day A beautiful woman Drove me to near Chicago In a red mustang
Might have been The girl in the song Took it easy
Digging her vibe She invited home
But was not sure If her estranged husband Would welcome me
So, I am being foolish And inexperienced with women Did not go to her place
And always regretted That I had lost My chance that day
Then on to Chicago Several rides later Visited friends
Hit the road again A series of uneventful rides With truckers And others
And a week later I ended in New York City
Slept along the way In cars In truck stops In high way rest stops
Always moving Always going
None stop talking And lots of free weed And beer
And conversation One more memorable ride
Occurred outside Albany On my return to Chicago A middle age creepy looking man Picked me up
In a brand-new Cadillac He was he said a dynamite deliverer For the Mafia
Went to various places To blow up shit
He hated a lot of people Particularly hippies from California
And Jewish people Looking at me to confirm That I was both
I told him that I lived in New York And had never been to California
And although I might have looked Jewish As I what was called back in the day A “Jewfro”
I was not Jewish Many years later I discovered That I am indeed part Jewish
But then I did not know And I felt a bit of strategic information Might keep me alive
Then I realized that he was just jiving with me And we relaxed
And he pulled out some weed And beer And we mellowed out
But I believe that he really was with the mob Perhaps not a dynamite dealer A real made Italian made mafia member By Chicago
I had enough I called my Dad Told him what had happened
Wanted a ticket home And he sent me a ticket And 500 dollars
And I went home I told him I would tell him My tales some day
But never did I learned so much About my fellow Americans
And the strange vibe That was 1975 And now it is too late
But I wanted to finally Tell the world Of my hitchhiking tales In search of America 1975
When Will this Darkness End
As the darkness settles down on the land All are consumed with evil Foul deeds and endless darkness
I wonder if it will ever go away Yes I wonder
If our great nightmare will ever end Are we doomed To live out the decline of America?
This is what I pray for 2018 The end of the darkness The unleashed hatred that consumes our land
the Bus – Travels Through America’s Underbelly
I am a bus rider That makes me unusual For a white male
From an upper middle class family Our people are not bus riders Though some are subway riders
Bus riders are other people The poor, minorities, immigrants
People who don’t drive Because they are blind Or have a DUI
And in my case I don’t drive
Because I have bad vision And bad coordination Just never got the hang Of the whole driving thing
Fortunately for me My wife does the driving But I still take the bus From time to time
I rode the AC buses in Berkeley As a child Line 67, line 51, line 43 F bus Rode them long before BART came along
And afterwards as well As an adult seldom rode the bus But when I did so I was always impressed
By the sheer diversity Of the bus riding property Hundreds of languages All sorts of sexual orientation Some were white Most were not
Most of my fellow passengers Were nice enough Some were friendly
And some were lost In their own thoughts
And a few Were scary looking dudes With the look
Of someone who had done time And were capable of more violence
I also rode the bus In Seattle as a graduate student
A lot of fellow UW students And the usual immigrants Minorities etc
And some white people Commuting
And in DC Over the years I rode a lot of buses
Mostly to and from the metro But I got to know
And love the DC buses as well
I also took the greyhound bus Across the country
Several times over the years All over the U.S.
From Bay Area to Stockton From Bay Area to Clear Lake From Bay area to NYC NYC to DC
All over the USA Taking the Greyhound
Was always an an adventure Met a lot of interesting people
As people on long distant bus rides Tend to open up and talk To pass the time away
Overseas I took the bus All over In India, in Barbados In Spain and in Korea
The Korean buses For many years Were difficult for foreign visitors As the signs were all in Korean
Most have signs Now in English, Chinese and Korean And are much more foreigner friendly
Riding the bus In America
Allows one access To the underbelly of American society
The poor, the marginalized The immigrant communities
That many middle-class white people Just never see
And for that reason I am glad That I am a bus rider
Yeah, but not just a simple cup of java Joe, but a God damn snarling sarcastic smarmy cup of coffee
I mean, – we are talking about an alcoholic, all speed ahead, always hot, always fresh, always there when I need it, angry, attitude talk to the hand Ztude, bad, bad assed, beats breaking, beatnik, bluesy, bitter, bitchy, bombs away, capitalistic, caffeinated up the ass, cinematic, communistic, Colombian grown, Costa Rican inspired, Cowabunga to the max, crazy assed, devilishly angelic, divine, divinely inspired, dyslexic, epic, extreme vetting, evil eye, expensive, erotic vision inducing, Ethiopian coffee house brewed, euphoric, freaky, freazoid, foxy, Frenched kissed, French brewed, funkified, foxy lady, graphic, GOD in my coffee, with Allah, Ganesh, Jesus, Kali, Buddha, Christians, Durga, Hindus, Mohamed, Jesus and Mo and their friend, the cosmic bar maid, Sai Babai, Shiva, Taoists, Zoroastrians, drinking my god damned coffee in Hell; growling, gnarly, happy, hard as ice, Hawaian blessed, high as a kite, hippie, hip, hipster, hip hoppy, hot as hell yet strangely sweet as heaven, jazzy, jealous, Kerouac approved, kick ass, kick my god damn ass to Tuesday, kick down the doors and take no prisoners, grown in the Vietnam highlands by ex-Vietcong, Guatemalan grown, kiss ass, illegal in every state, imported from all over the god damn world, insane, lovely, loony, lonely, lonesome, malodorous mean old rotten, motherfucking, nasty, narcotic, never whatever, never meh, never cold, not approved by the CIA, not approved by DHS, not approved for human consumption by the FDA, not your daddy’s sissified corporate cup of coffee, NOT DECAFE coffee, not your Denny’s truck driver weak as brown water cup of fake coffee, not your establishment friendly cup of coffee, Not your FBI coffee, Not FAKE Herbal coffee substitute, but a real cup of coffee, not your farmer brothers dinner crap, not made in America for Americans, not safe for work, not your Starbucks average expensive overpriced crappy corporate chain cup of coffee, Not pretentious, Not White House approved, not State Department safe, nuclear, Not Patriotic, operatic, Peets’s coffee approved, paranoid, pornographic, psychotic, pontific, politically aware, rapping, rhyming, right here, right now in River city, rock and roll up the Yazoo, sad, sadistic, sarcastic, sassy, satanic, schizoid, shitting, silly, sexy, smarmy, smelly, smooth, snarky, snarling, stupid, stinking, sweet as honey, sweat inducing, symphonic, Trump can’t handle this coffee, vengeful, Wagnerian, wicked, with nutmeg and cinnamon swirls, with a hint of stevia, with a hint of vanilla, with a hint of rum, with a hint of whisky, with a hint of cherry, with a hint of fruit overtones, with a hint of drugs spicing up the coffee, spendific, speeding, splendid, superior accept no substitutes, survived the Vietnam war, the Iraq war, the Afghan war, the first and Second Korean war, World War 11, the war on poverty, the war on drugs, the war on black people, the sexual revolution, Soulful as a summer’s night in MOTOWN- James Brown approved, TOP approved, Berkeley approved, the coffee that Jimmy Hendrix drank before he died, the coffee that Elvis drank on his last breakfast, the coffee that Barry White crooned as he drank his cup of coffee – and the coffee that made the white boy play stand up and play that funky music, the coffee that made Jonny B Goode play his guitar, and made Jonny bet the devil his soul after he drank his morning cup of righteous coffee and the coffee that make the Rolling Stones Rock and Roll, the coffee your mother warned you against drinking, the coffee that Napoleon drank when he became the Emperor of all Europe, the Coffee that Beethoven drank when he wrote the Ninth symphony, the coffee that Mozart drank as he wrote his last symphony, the coffee that Lincoln drank before he was killed, the Hemingway drank before he killed himself, the coffee that started the 60’s, and ended the 20th century, the coffee that Lenin drank as he plotted revolution, the coffee that Hitler and Stalin drank with FDR as they divided up the world after World War 11, the cup that JFK drank before he was blown away, the coffee Jerry drinks while driving in cars with random celebrities and political figures, the coffee that Jon Stewart drinks before he goes on an epic take down of some foolish politico, the cup of Arabic coffee that Sadaam drank the day he was executed, the coffee that GW and Cheney drank when they bombed Baghdad, the Indian cup of coffee that Bid Laden drank before 9-11 and just before the seals blew his ass to hell, the cup of coffee that Tiger Woods drank with his mistresses while playing a 3, 000 dollar round of golf at Sandy Lane golf course in Barbados, the last legal drug that does what drugs should do, the cup of coffee that Obama drank when he became President, Vietnamese, Vienna brew, wacky, whimsical, Whisky Tango Foxtrot, wild, weird, wonderful, WOW, Yabba dabba doo! Yada Yada yada Zappa’s favorite cup of cosmic coffee, and Zorro’s last cup of coffee, Good to the last drop rolled into one simple cup of hot coffee
As I pound down that first cup of coffee
And fire up my synaptic nerve endings with endless supplies
Of caffeine induced neuron enhancing chemicals
I face the dawning day with trepidation and mind-numbing fear
I turn on the TV and watch the smarmy newscasters in their perfect hair
Lying through their teeth about the great success the government is having Following the great leader’s latest pronouncements
I want to scream and shoot the TV and run out side Shouting “Stop the world.
I want to get off this fucking crazy planet”
The earth does not care a whit about my attitude
It merely shrugs and moves around the Sun
In its appointed daily run
And I sit down
The madness dissipating a bit
And enjoy my second cup
Of heaven and hell
In my morning cup of Joe
Unhinged Lunatic Howling at the Full Moon
On the night of the blood red super full moon
I sat in an evil, depraved godforsaken bar
Drinking drams of demented, fermented dream dew
Washed down by endless rounds of whiskey
rum, tequila, vodka, soju and of course beer
drinking with my buddies the Jack Daniels Gang
Drinking my way to Hell and beyond
Just as fast as I could
twenty damn drinks too sober
Just an unhinged lunatic
Dreaming of howling at the full moon
Watching the world walk by
Looking at all the fine-looking babes
Walking by the street
Thinking wild, erotic thoughts
Of endless wild libertine passions
When into the bar
That din of cosmic depravity
Walked the most beautiful women
In the Universe
So wild, so free
So wonderfully alive
I did not know what to do
As this vision of delight
Sauntered through the bar
In a skin-tight leather pant
Looked so fine
That my eyeballs hurt
And finally, I had to say something
So, I gathered up my manly courage
And walked up to her
And she looked at me
And instantly bewitched my soul
With a devilish grin
I lost all reason
And became a raving lunatic
Unhinged lunatic
Howling at the blood red full moon
Foaming at the mouth
A wild, free werewolf
Howling at the lunatic light
Of the blood red blue full Moon
April 30 In Search of America 1975 – Hitch hiking Tales
Duane Voorhees published my “decline of America” on his Poetree.
The Decline of America
You see it everywhere
The unmistakable signs
That the decline of America
Is in full swing
As our emperor in waiting
Withdraws the US
From the climate change agreement
Giving the proverbial finger
To 195 world leaders
And ignoring the personal appeal
Of the G7 and the Pope
Making America Great
By making America all alone
In its growing irrelevance
As the world leaders turn away
From dealing with the US
And we have gone past the tipping point
There is nowhere left to go
But downward
As the Empire begins to collapse
Victim of imperial overreach
Like all empires before
The DC metro on a good day
Is a broken-down remnant
Of a once proud system
On a bad day
It is an accident that happens
Over and over again
Killing and maiming people
The future of mass transit
Its proponents said
The interstate highway system
Is falling apart day by day
Our bridges are falling down
Our transit is a world joke
The cost of rebuilding America mounts
And our politicians are afraid
That it will cost trillions of dollars
Just to prevent the US from collapsing
Into third world irrelevance
And our idiot president’s answer
Is to sell our highways and bridges
To the highest foreign bidder
Treating the US as just another failed company
Ready to be stripped for cash and profits
By the vulture capitalists who took over the government
We have the world’s most expensive military
A million dollars per missile
And yet we can’t find the money
To provide decent health care for all
Bombs and tax cuts for the wealthy
Are the only things
That the Republicans care about
And the world looks in amazement
At the clown boy President
As he struts about
Looking more and more
Like some Banana Republic
President for life
With his family grabbing as much loot
As they can
From the federal government
Before the coming revolution
Overthrows them
When did we start this decline?
Some say 1960s started it
Others say Nixon’s to blame
Others claim that it was Carter’s fault
Or Saint Reagan’s fault
Or the other boy President GW Bush
Or Obama the fake American’s fault
Does it really matter
All I know
Is the America I knew
The can do anything country
The country that went to the moon
Is alas no more
And I morn for our lost liberties
Our lost sense of purpose
Our lost sense that America
Was the last great hope of Mankind
And still I wonder
Can America be made great again?
As our President Trump proclaims
The end times approaches
Nuclear war is talked about
Another missile crisis
And instead of JFK leading the country
We have Donald John Trump
The one and only
The greatest con man
To ever get elected
And I fear the end is in sight
As America begins its decline
Will we be one country
Or will we erupt into a civil war
Can we survive
Two nations divided
Into the red and blue camps
The coastal elites and multiethnic cities
And Jesus land in the rural hinterlands
And the deep south remains apart
The right claims that the left has started it
And the left claims that the right has started it
And both sides claim that the civil war
Is inevitable
A fight for the future of our country
Will we go back to the mythical past
When white men ruled the land
And women and minorities knew their place
And gays stayed in the closet?
Or will we embrace a progressive future
With an economy that works for all
And a world in which there is no ethnic majority anymore
And women and men are equal
And the GLBT community has full rights
I have no answer
It seems the end is coming
Sooner than we think
As Emperor Trump leads us
Down a dark, strange dangerous path
And so, it goes
The decline of empires
And I pray
That I may survive
The end of times
Microsoft Found Poetry
I recently installed Microsoft dictation program. I tested it and found that it was filled with bugs. 50 percent of the time it works, and when it works about half the results are what I dictated, the others are nonsensical commands – my favorite being play sly and the family’s summer in city which it did- and the rest is gibberish. Some of the results are funny, some profound. So I wrote five found poems based on the dictation results. there is the first one:
The following is a verbatim copy of the gibberish that Microsoft dictation software spew
forth the first ten times I tried it. First I could not get it to recognize any thing. I called Microsoft tech support who suggested I reformat my hard drive and did not suggest that I buy an external mike. I did at Best Buy and then the program worked after I rebooted the computer six times and went through the set-up microphone procedure three times.
I thought that the results of this experiment were at times ludicrous so thought it would make a fine found poem. I merely broke it into stanzas otherwise the words are the way it typed out on the screen. I found if I spoke really slow the error rate was a bit less, if I spoke too fast it just did nothing.
I sent this to Microsoft but don’t expect a response.
Thanks
Enjoy
Begin Microsoft dictation found poem:
Her and they moved to
a the final inspection went well
with E wall
back to the apartment
and brown
we had left the keys
are in the car
but fortunately
we ran two
are rules that TV does not
ruin were bought
baby by Jews
they’ll be able to see you
and your evening
we win
two Home Depot and Costco
and then who can free pizza
for dinner we want to eastern market
and shot the movie
dress report to the berber
back home
and went to bed
about the nine
the dictation is working up
from 50% of the time
cue-card will keep
the hope that the difference
in win over to
in the meantime
I will keep brokerage
and user to ride
bay from all working
you in this
is Trevor Rowe junior middle school?
Microsoft did tuition
continues two 50%
of the time
one the visual dictation data
his sometimes schuler’s
shall I am sure
even when you shoot a film,
today we’ll meet with Perot’s
to turn over the key
and then paid the porch
and weather permits
and then maybe have dinner
with more drivers
wore see the movie
Mama Mia
should be a good
if I have time
High-level
also do some solutions all
Still having problems with my group
saw fit to Asia
still very strange
each results
it’s well as run
the south: today in that age
When to the house
and your lunch
had a good lunch
when the two D. Meyer
we are only eight at the red cross
to the I had a BLT
center with each 10 home
to ensure came home
at 230 and we walked
back to the house
did was a very hot air
to move the best way
to beat the fencing guy
Go to End
can show them the fencing edition
about $4000 or so
came home to a
Her and then run back home
Had celebrated for dinner
and wash two episodes of a series of unfortunate events
than started reading The two men
To the house
and the DM 2 me
the pay
for its then
Go to End
go to the paint shop
to buy more pain
noses were very first
Go to End
had too old
to be in this meet pizza.
Go to End
Went out at 8 am
to the house to meet
had too old to be in this meet pizza
have peace of for dinner
go to Sly and the Family Stone Yes No?
Play Summer Time in the City Yes
the painters
then walked to the Paint Shop
the in the top of the state intends
the the the the the the the
Pizza
Dinner salad
Say number okay 4444
6666
2222
End Document
Save Changes Journal Yes No
Can’t complete last command
Undo command
Can’t save
Came back from the upper
the painting works great
progress
is how so
in a very hot as hell
bent tonight
will go to trade for Jones
for home to home
Number of records by second baseman from voting
and an batteries for remote control
shown
or just for a number of town hall
The Poetry Super Highway has published their 20th Annual Yom Hashoah Issue featuring 58 poets. This week, 71 poets from all over the world remember the Holocaust in our 20th annual Yom Hashoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day) issue. Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day) was this past Thursday, April 12th.
I am one of the 77 poets chosen. I was inspired to write by the DNA confirmation that i am indeed part Jewish.