Category: lunatic poems

  • Two Drops of Ink Publishes Recent Poems

    Two Drops of Ink Publishes Recent Poems

    More Ink Pantry Poems

    City Limits Publishes Love Poems

    more writers egg poems

    two drops of ink

    POETRY-FEATURED
    POETRY-FEATURED

    Two Drops of Ink has published another one of my poems, “Just Enough for Coffee” which is a poem about the plight of the homeless.   They will publish some of my other poems over the next few weeks.

    Just Enough for Coffee

    A homeless man
    Stood on the street
    Counting his change
    From panhandling all morning
    Just had enough for a cup of coffee

     

     

     

     

    coffee
    coffee

    All in all
    A good start

    He ambled off to his favorite coffee shop
    Where the owner
    Was kind to the homeless

     

     

    Sometimes
    Treating them to a meal
    On the house

    The man said
    I was in your shoes
    Once years ago

    And you never forget
    When you are down
    And out

    Everyone forgets your face
    No one knows your name

    For you are now
    Invisible
    Almost a ghost

    The old man tried to pay
    The owner said

    Keep your change
    You need it more than me

    Have a meal with me
    My friend
    On the house

    He ordered up
    The homeless man’s favorite
    Lumberjack special

    Eggs, pancakes, sausage, bacon
    Cornbread
    Lots of hot black coffee
    To wash it down

    The old man
    Often had just one meal a day
    Usually, a late breakfast

    Sometimes if he were lucky
    He would have dinner

    And on a red-letter day
    He would have three meals

    The homeless man
    Had been on the streets
    For too long

    Barely remembered his life
    Before early-onset Alzheimer’s
    Robbed him of his job
    His dignity

    His wife
    His life
    His money

    Now he drifted
    Waiting for the grim reaper
    Any day now

    He prayed nightly
    To a god
    That he no longer believed in

    Ink Pantry, Scarlet Leaf, Spill Words, Synchronized Chaos, Two Drops of Ink, have published 15 of my recent poems. The poems are posted below along with audio and photo clips.

    Scarlet Leaf review will publish these poems in the following order:
    The year that was – Anniversary issue
    JAN: The terrifying teens
    FEB: 2020 Plans Rondeau (Dream, Fate)
               The oyster
                Morning Light
              2019 The last year
    March: Dora Intergalactic Explorer
               Mocking faces
                Fear of falling
                Cosmos takes over

    Poetry Break: Jake Cosmos Aller: 5 Poems for our Times

    By: Jake Cosmos Aller

     

    • Poetry Break: Jake Cosmos Aller: 5 Poems for our TimesJanuary 26, 2020
      By: Jake Cosmos Aller       Morning Light   the terrors of the night the worst imaginings of what might happen   war, rumors of war end of civilization nuclear war and other horrors… [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]

      Marilyn L. Davis

    Morning Light

    sun rise
    sun rise

    the terrors of the night

    the worst imaginings

    of what might happen

     

    war, rumors of war

    end of civilization

    nuclear war

    and other horrors

    ripped from the headlines

     

    fade away into nothingness

    with the morning light

    and the love of my wife

    who is always by my side

    I regain my sight

     

    and begin

    regaining my smile

    and my life

     

    until the next nightmares

    consumes my dark imaginings

     

     

     

    Dora the Intergalactic Explorer

    dora
    dora

    Dora the intergalactic explorer

    Is traveling to the strangest planet

    of all the known worlds

     

    she is traveling incognito

    with a video crew

    making a documentary

     

    the planet earth

    is known as a planet

    of intelligent monkeys

     

    not much is known

    about them

    as very few

    have ever been there

     

    the inhabitants are described

    as blood thirsty insane creatures

    ruled by hidden sexual and political passions

    following incomprehensible

    religious dogmas following Gods

    that clearly do not exist

     

    the inhabitants are just on the verge

    of developing intergalactic travel

    and the galactic empire

    is worried that they will be driven

    to try to conquer the rest of the universe

     

    driven by their needs to impose

    their religious dogma

    everywhere in the world

     

    the planet is divided into large tribal groups

    governed by corrupt elites

    corrupt businesses destroying the planet

    in pursuit of profit

     

    and the locals are little more

    than wage slaves

    barely making a living

    addicted to alcohol, drugs gambling

    pornography and illicit sex

     

    and their main land

    is ruled by a clearly delusional madman

    intent on poking a fight

    with all his alleged enemies

     

    Dora assumed the appearance

    of a character from TV

    and will pose as a journalist

    trying to make sense

    of it all

     

    but she was afraid

    that she if found out

    could face the worst consequence

     

    her ship crash lands

    and she is outside

    the capitol

     

    of the non empire empire

    called the United State ofAmerica

     

    Dora gets her crew together

    and walks into the city

    staring at all the strange sights

    as the monkeys go about

    their daily activities

     

    she stops at a restaurant

    tries the coffee

    the chief drug of choice

     

    and is instantly addicted

    wow no wonder

    these people are crazed

     

    she tries the local booze

    and smiles

    perhaps she could

    become an intergalactic merchant

    introducing the world

    to the galaxy

     

    her thought are interrupted

    as a mad man armed

    with weapons of war

    bursts in and starts shooting

    yelling at people

     

    and she is shot dead

    the authorities

    are shocked

     

    when they recover the body

    and realize

    that she is not a human

    as she reverts to her original form

     

    sort of a giant feline like creature

    two legs and arms

    and clearly from an advanced

    civilization given her gear

     

    what was she doing

    no one knew

    as all the aliens

    died in the gun blaze

     

    the world is shocked

    at what had happened

    and fearful that the aliens

    were coming to invade

    their world

     

    the galactic senate

    decides to contain

    the humans

    declaring them

    a threat to the global civilization

     

    and the humans vow

    to discover the secrets

    of interstellar travel

    and travel to her land

     

    to enter into business arrangements

    and spread the one truth faith

    to the heathen space aliens

     

    thus ended Dora’s excellent adventure

    in the crazed world at the edge

    of known civilization

     

    Mocking Faces Staring at Me

    Mocking faces

    hunting my dreams

    Hundreds of faces

    morphing into one

    after another

     

    Faces I knew

    The dead

    and the living

     

    women i knew

    friends I missed

    enemies I did not

     

    One after another

    Marching in my room

    Staring at me

     

    I tried to run

    They laughed

     

    They said

    that there’s nowhere

    to escape my cosmic fate

     

    My time is coming

    prepare yourself

    the grim reaper

    has your name

     

    and once he has your name

    your fate is sealed

    and you will soon

    join us

     

    whether in heaven

    or hell

    is not for us to say

     

    be warned though

    you will be judged

    and no one can escape

    their cosmic karmic fate

     

    A Wild Man Sits in a Gilded Cage

    man in gilded Cage
    man in cage

     

    a wild man sits in a gilded cage

    a cage made out of chains of his wife’s love

     

    a cage made out of chains of his wife’s love

    the wild man yearning to be free from his cage

     

    the wild man yearning to be free from his cage

    wondering how and why he was now tamed

     

    wondering how and why he was now tamed

    dreaming dark wild dreams of demented freedom

     

    dreaming dark wild dreams of demented freedom

    the wild man looks about his prison cage

     

    the wild man looks about his prison cage

    wondering whether he will ever be free

     

    wondering whether he will ever be free

    a wild man sits in a gilded cage

    2019 The Last Year of America’s Greatness

     

    2019 was the last year of America

    when the proverbial chickens came home

     

    when the proverbial chickens came home

    to strut about the decaying landscape

     

    to strut about the decaying landscape

    as the world begins to burn and die

     

    as the world begins to burn and die

    led by the mad great leader and his merry men

     

    led by the mad great leader and his merry men

    the whole world lay in shock and awe

     

    the whole world lay in shock and awe

    at the destruction of the America they knew

     

    at the destruction of the America they knew

    when the proverbial chickens came home

    Twin

    Spill Words has published ” Hitch Hiking Tales”

     

    Prior Publication

    lunatic howling at the moon two drops of ink marilyn l davis scott biddulph

    1. Just an Unhinged Lunatic Howling at The Moon
    2. Howling at The Moon
    3. One Crazy day*
    4. God’s Confession
    5. Wild Thoughts Run Amuk

    *previously published

    Just An Unhinged Lunatic Howling At The Moon

    howling at the moon
    man howling at the man

    On a moonlit late night

    I sat in a bar

    Drinking drams of demented, fermented dream dew

    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

    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 pants

    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 moon

     

    Foaming at the mouth

    A wild, free werewolf

    Howling at the lunatic light

    Of the full Moon

     

     

    Howling At The Moon

    howling at the moon
    man howling at the man

    He  stood outside

    Between the trees

    In a field

    On the outside of town

     

    Beneath the lunatic rays

    Of the blood red full moon

    The lunatic lights of the moon

    Casts a wild primeval glow

    On him

     

    The hormonal chemicals are unleashed

    The wild beast within

    Escapes it chain

    And he howl with delight

    A werewolf

    Free at at last

     

    To run amuck

    Free of its civilized restrains

    Throwing off its clothes

    Stripping naked

     

    Running wild

    Naked and free

    A wild man

    Enjoying his freedom

     

    As he  sits

    Under the lunatic light of the full moon

    Of the blood red lights of the moon

    Full of wild passions

    The lustful beast stirs again

     

    And starts running and running

    Howling at the moon

    Riding into the new dawn

    On a demented Harley Davis cycle

    With two naked babes on his back

    Riding into the sun

    90 miles per second

    At the speed of though

    He disappears into the lunatic light

    Of the full moon

     

    And he  wake ups

    Alone,

    In my bed

    Saying, man that was quite a night

     

    I better not go there again

    the Wild man

    Laughs

    He has heard that before

     

    And he joins him

    In howling at the moon

    One Crazy Night

    One crazy night

    Last night

    I could not get to sleep

    At all

     

    Last night

    I could not get to sleep

    At all

     

    I looked up

    Looked out at the window

    At the full moon

    Saw by its lunatic light

     

    Your face

    Was in the moon

     

    And I looked up

    At the light

     

    That crazy light

    And dreamed last night

     

    I was with you

    Again

     

    And I woke up

    Alone in my bed

     

    Dreaming dark dreams

    Of You

    Wishing it were

    Other than it was

    All alone

    All alone again

    In this world how are you

     

    God’s Confession

    I was sitting along

    In a god forsaken bar

    Somewhere on the lunatic fringes

    Of society

     

    On the bad part of town

    Over by railroad tracks

     

    I was sitting alone in a godforsaken bar

    Heading to hell

    As fast as I could drink it down

    twenty drinks too sober

     

    Enjoying my lonely drink

    Drinking by my lonesome self

     

    With my partners

    Jimmy Dean, and the Walker brother

    And his old Grand Dad

     

    Just drinking and hanging

    with the Jack Daniels Gang

    having one bourbon, one scotch and one beer

     

    A crazed bum

    With a thousand year stare

    Walks up to me

     

    He begins

    Muttering to himself

    Nutty nonsense

    Crazy words

    In a lunatic’s voice

     

    He had the look

    Of one possessed

     

    By his own demons

    That only he can see

    Or hear

    Possessed by a secret knowledge

    Only he knew

     

    Despite myself

    I was fascinated

    By this lunatic’s tale

     

    So I stopped him

    and said

    So what’s your game

    Anyway

     

    The short little dude

    Stopped his insane prattle

    Starting at me

    With that thousand year old stare

     

    Just another washed up

    Lunatic

     

    Too many drugs

    Too many bad nights

    Just another acid causality

    from the 60’s

    who never came back

     

    stuck in his own wonderland

    On the wrong side of life

     

    He looked at me

    And proclaimed his story

    He reared up

    And filled up the room

     

    And lifted the bar

    On his finger

    And stared down at me

    From the sky

     

    And said

    Since you asked

    I am God

    The alpha and Omega

    The real deal

    The original dude of dudes

    The sultan of Swing

    God of hosts

    And father of that Jesus dude

     

    But no one knows me

    Any more

    No one cares

     

    They think I am irrelevant

    They think I am dead

    They think I am a fairy tale

    From some olden, ancient time

     

    Some say I am dead

    Others think I should be dead

    That my work is done

     

    I looked at him

    Carefully now

    And what did I see

     

    An old man

    With that lunatic look

    But there was something else

     

    He was crazy

    Sure yes

    But perhaps he was the real deal

     

    I mean why not

    Why would not God be

    A lunatic wandering around loose

    Talking to low lives like me

    In a bar

    On the way to hell

     

    So I looked at him

    And invited him to share

    His tale of woe

     

    God tells me

    Well, it’s like this

     

    Many a year ago

    People believed in me

    But one day

    They quit believing in me

    And they went on without me

     

    As they left me

    My powers got weaker and weaker

    And so eventually I became

    What you see today

     

    A broken down drunk

    Hanging out

    Looking for a hand out

    Looking for some company

    Or at least a free dinner

     

    And he laughed and laughed

     

    And I looked at him

    And saw the beginnings of the end

    And the ends of the beginnings

    I saw a million planets

    Flash by

     

    A billion people

    A trillion sentient beings

    Thinking all at once

     

    Thoughts filled my head

    Lights flashed

    And I knew

    He was telling the truth

     

    But it did not matter

    In this day and age

    Of materialism

     

    God has no role

    God is truly dead

    And so I bought him a drink

    And walked out of the bar

    Profoundly father that Jesus dude sadden by what I had seen

     

    God was dead

    And we had all conspired

    To kill him

     

    Wild Thoughts Run Amok

     

    Wild Thoughts

    Wild fantasies

    Fill my head

    Running through my brain

    Like electric currency

     

    My eyes are consumed

    By the burning fires

    Of unquenched desire

     

    She still has that thing

    That wild crazy thing

    And she still impresses me

    Compels me

    Inspires fear

     

    And I am on fire

    All over again

     

    The wild infatuation

    She caused in my heart

     

    But I was not prepared

    The sight of her

    Inspired dreams

    Of nights of love

    That was not to be fulfilled

     

    My heart filled

    With wild erotic fantasies

    And I want  her

    All over again

    Still has that thing that wow crazy thing

    That love Jones thing

    That wild love Jones thing

    Creeps its ugly head

    Out of the dark recess

    Of my demented soul

     

    I’m on fire over again

    Sniffing an opportunity

    To cause chaos

    Yet again

     

    And so I prepare

    To run away

    Ere I get consumed

    By unrequited passion

    Again

     

    Dreams of possible love

    And lust

    Come bubbling out

    Out of the swamps

    Of my fertile imagination

     

    And I pray to the gods

    To give me wisdom

    To avoid taking

    The path that leads

    To my destruction

    DRAGON FLY IN MY MIND

    Dragonflies of my mind

    dragon flies
    of my mind
    fly above
    the garden of my mind

    Floating amid the flowers
    And the weeds

    Tracking butterflies
    and demon flies
    That infects the garden of my mind

    The flowers bloom bright
    Attracting butterflies

    The demon weeds
    Sprout here and there

    Screaming

    Look at me
    Look at me

    Trying to spread
    Their poisonous thoughts

    That is the mind
    In the temple
    That is the body

    The body
    Of a man
    Made in the image of God

    The dragonfly
    flies above
    The chaos

    and the sonic soup
    That makes up

    The inner sound

    The dragonfly
    Is majestic

    In its indifference
    To the turmoil down below

    It floats above
    The sonic soup

    The bugs and cockroaches
    Crawl out of the weeds

    Trying to spread
    like wild fire
    Through the mind

    And at night
    I can hear them

    Crawling among the web pages
    Of my mind

    Be gone
    Oh difficult, negative thoughts

    Be gone
    Like the bugs

    I’ll squash you like
    The evil creatures
    You really are

    The sweat music
    Invades my soul

    Driving away
    The evil bugs

    And I soar
    Like the majestic

    Dragon fly
    Far above

    The chaos below
    Only seeing the beauty

    That fills up
    The garden of my mind

    One can choose
    To be the dragon fly

    Or to be consumed
    And turned into the cockroaches
    Of death, despair and hate

    And I fly
    Far away

    Above
    The sound of silver trumpets

    Silver sound
    Suspended forever

    In the pink crystalline sky
    Of my mind

    Let us fly away
    Into the deep night

    On the wings of the cosmic dragon fly
    And leave behind, forever
    The cockroaches of my mind

    REFLECTIONS

    One lousy, lonely, loathsome demented night

    In a god forsaken bar

    In the global south

    In a tropical hell hole

    Drinking my way to hell

    As fast as I could

    Drinking alone with my buddies

    Jack Daniels, Jimmy Walker

    Wild Turkey and Old Grandad

     

    I sat alone in the bar

    Alone with my dismal thoughts

    Full of somber thoughts

    Dismal reflections

    Thinking dismal thoughts

    Of what I was going to do

    twenty drinks too sober

     

    Where I was heading to

    Where I was coming from

    I had no clue

    No idea at all

    Where my futur set alarm in the bar I havee path lay

    So, I sat

    Drinking alone in the bar

    Twenty drinks too sober

    I considered my beer

    Just another middle age looser

    Crying into his beer

    I saw my reflection

    In the glass of beer

    I saw an old man

    Staring back at me I have

    A lonely man

    A stranger staring at me

    I looked at this man

     

    This stranger

    That I had become

    And wondered

    What the hell had happened to me

    During my life

    I stared at the old man

    In the beer glass

    Wondering to myself

    Where did this old man come from

    What the there’s a lot of fans hell did he want from me

    Who the fuck was he

    And what was he doing

    In my god damned beer

    So I decided

    To speak my god damned mind

    I said

    Say old man

    In my beer glass

    Come on out of there

    Come to life

    Old dude

    And talk to me

    I want to know

    Who the fuck you are

    And what you are doing

    In my beer

    Come to life

    Let me see

    Whom I am going to be

    The old man grinned

    And laughed the laugh where is coming from I had no clue

    Of the insane

    The laugh of the newly Enlighted ones

    Who finally realized the absurdity of existence

    And then he looked at me

    With a thousand-year stare

    And transformed himself

    Morphed into a hideous snarling beast

    A werewolf stared at me

    And he growled

    So punk

    You want to know

    What I am doing in your beer

    Well it is like this

    Dude

    I am the ghost of your past

    And I am here to show you

    What you have done

    And what you have failed to do

    With your miserable life Cologne in the van 20 things to Solvang insert in my mirror me just another middle-age music binder is very

    So, let the show begin

    I saw one by one

    Parading across my beer

    All the people I have known

    All my friends

    All my enemies

    All my casual acquaintances

    And most importantly

    All the women I had ever know

    All the women I had ever lusted after

    All of them came out lonely man stranger Alicia me look at this man

    One by one

    They stopped and told me

    What they really thought of me

    Of my foolish pride

    My foolish behavior

    My folly

    My sexual desires

    MY lust

    And one by one they judged me

    A jury of my peers

    And they found me guilty

    As charged

    SS came by

    My first r hang in there stranger and become and wondered what the hell and have an amino my lifeeal love

    MM too

    SG as well

    CP was there

    Miss K

    Miss CDN

    The perfect lover of the east

    Who fled away

    From my protestations of love

    And Angela

    The one and only

    Who married me

    And still is proud

    To be my wife

    And the parade continued

    Nameless bar girls

    With whom I had consorted

    Spent a night of aimless sex

    One by one they came by

    Commending me

    Laughing at me

    SB came by

    Khun J

    She with the great voice

    Came by

    Khun M

    As did the GM

    And on and on and on

    The four A’s in Bombay

    The one I almost had

    The ones that broke my heart

    And allowed my creative juices

    To run wild

    And others come alive

    Who remains nameless

    By choice

    The boss came by

    As did the other ones

    Everybody looking at me

    I stopped

    Stood up

    Scream

    Stop this torture

    Stop it right now

    Mr. Beer God

    Or Devil

    Whoever you may be

    Nothing but the laughter

    Of the damn

    Echoing across the room

    I looked up

    They were all there

    In the room

    Looking at me

    I stood up

    And tried to touch the oh noon and talk to me I want to know what the fuck you are and when you were doing in my mirror come drive let me see who am I going to meanm

    Nothing but illusions

    Nothing there

    I cried into my beer

    The anguished cry of the damned

    Just another fool

    Crying into his beer

    Did I have the courage

    The wisdom to make amends

    Did I know

    What I had to do

    Did I have the courage

    To quit lusting

    Over what I cannot have

    To accept

    That all the love

    I need

    Is in my wife’s eyes

    And in her heart

    And so I looked the beer god

    In the eye afternoon saying I have Internet line

    And dranked my beer

    And walked out the door finally realizes her Geneva sister

    Confidently facing the future

    Free of doubts

    Full of love

    And proud of all I had done

    Knowing that I was not guilty

    Of the crimes charged

     

    the Bench a Short Story

     

    One November afternoon, about 5 pm, Sam Adams, an white man in his late
    60s was doing his usual daily walk in Lithia Park in Ashland, Oregon. Sam had retired to
    Oregon after serving in the U.S. government as a diplomat for many years. He had grown up in
    Berkeley but had visited Ashland over the years. He and his wife, Linda, were big fans of the
    Shakespeare festival. Linda was worried that Sam was showing signs of Alzheimer’s but Sam
    was not worried. He told Linda every day he would always remember how to find his way back
    to her.

    They had been married for 45 years. They met on a bus in South Korea when Sam was
    teaching there for the US Army before joining the State Department. Linda Lee was Korea. It
    was love at first sight and they got married two months after meeting.

    Since retirement they were inseparable but Sam often went for his walks alone. He would walk deep into Lithia Park following the Lithia creek upriver until he came upon his favorite bench and sat there a while. The bench was a simple wooden bench, surrounded by Japanese Maple trees which were in full color display that afternoon. It was a pleasant spot and Sam had been going there every day for almost two years.

    Soon, as usual, he was lost in thought, dreaming of his past life, thinking of his past loves, thinking dark thoughts preparing mentally for the coming end times of his life. Sam had a premonition that death was stalking him and that his time was near. He never told his wife that because he did not want to worry her. But he had insisted that they had gotten their estate plan completed, and he felt ready to go any day now.

    Sam had plenty to think about – he and Linda had had an eventful life. He had lived in over ten countries around the world and traveled to 50 states. After retiring he had become a blogger and worked on that off and on. But lately, he felt that time was slipping away from him. As he sat on the bench, meditating on his past life, something strange occurred. The bench woke up and spoke to Sam.

    “Sam, how are you doing? Old friend of mine. I am delighted that I can speak with you.”

    Sam looked around and could not find out where the voice was coming from but realized that the chair had spoken to him. Sam laughed and said,

    “well chair if you can speak tell me what you know.”

    The chair spoke of Sam’s life and of the life of others in the community that Sam knew. The chair said he knew everything that occurred in the lives of the people that sat on his bench. And the trees knew too as did the cosmic cat and even the squirrels knew. But people, well they just did not know how to listen to nature and to the world around them. In a way, it was too bad because the bench had so much wisdom to implant.

    Sam and the bench began talking. Soon a black cat appeared. He said that he was a cosmic cat as most cats are. Cats he explained are special creatures – not originally from this planet and descended from great warriors that crashed landed on earth millions of years ago. Cats were so often dismissed by humans as alien freaks or as annoying pests. But cats were really man’s best friend. And all cats had a sixth sense about death. They knew when it was time to go. The cat said the Grimm reaper was coming to Sam’s place that night and that Sam would be gone the next day.

    Sam said,

    “Cosmic cat do you know what will happen to me? Will I go to heaven or Hell? Is there a heaven or a hell?”

    “Sam, that is beyond my pay grade as they say. I do know that life continues after death but heaven and hell I don’t know much about. It is different for us cats. We come back to life as cats again and again can’t seem to escape our karmic fate. Humans well the move on to the next level of existence and we never see them again. Oh, here is the Grimm Reaper himself.”

    The Grimm Reaper walks up to Sam and introduces himself. The Grimm Reaper was a handsome man dressed in all black clothes, with a black hat and tie on. He said that he is just part of an army of Grimm Reapers and was breaking protocol to talk with Sam. He was so impressed that Sam had developed the ability to talk to animals, trees and the cosmic bench that he had a deal to make.

    Sam intrigued said,

    “What’s the deal?”

    I will give you one more month to live but you let me into your life like in the movie, Joe Black. Always wanted to try that. At the end of your life, God may grant me my wish to be a mortal for a few years. Here’s how it is going to play out. I will introduce myself as your long lost son from an affair long ago. You will welcome me into your life and Linda will eventually accept me as your son as well.

    Every day we will come back here and continue our conversation. At the end of the month, you will go on to the other world and I will stay behind as your son and stay with your wife to comfort her until it is her time to go and then you will be reunited. For you are special true soul mates and will be together forever. Do we have a deal?”

    Sam said “sure.”

    The bench smiled, the cat was happy, the squirrel came down from the tree after getting assurances that the Cat would not eat him that day and congratulated him as well. The Maple tree finally spoke and blessed the deal as well.
    As night deepened, he turned slowly towards home, accompanied by the Grimm Reaper who decided to call himself Joe Black, and the cosmic cat.

    He said goodnight to the cosmic bench in the park, acknowledging that he would be back
    same time, same station, day after day until Joe released him from this mortal world.

    The end

  • Scarlet Leaf to Publish Recent Poems

    Scarlet Leaf to Publish Recent Poems

    Ink Pantry, Scarlet Leaf Review, Synchronized Chaos, and Two Drops of Ink have published 15 of my recent poems.  They are all reposted here along with audio and photo clips.  Spill Words has published my “Hitchhiking Tales”, posted separately. OK I can do that OK then we’ll go to the trash

    Scarlet Leaf will publish them according to the following schedule, the remainder are either already published or will be on or about February 1, 2020

    The year that was – Anniversary issue

    anniversary issue

    JAN: The terrifying teens
    The oyster
    Morning Light
    2019 The last year

    March: Dora Intergalactic Explorer
    Mocking faces
    Fear of falling
    Cosmos takes over

    Five Poems

    1/2/2020 2019 the Year that was
    1/2/2020 the terrifying teens
    1/3/2020 Dreams
    1/3/2020 Fate
    1/3/2020|the Oyster Speaks Up

    second set six poems

    1/6/2020 Dora the Inter-Galatic Explorer

    1/6/2020 Morning Light
    1/14/2020 Cosmos Takes Over the World
    1/3/2020 Dreams
    1/3/2020>Fate
    1/6/2020 We Did Not Take Action to Start a War But to Stop A War

    third set five poems

    1/11/2020 Mocking Faces
    1/11/2020 Fear Falling out of Bed
    1/14/2020 Cosmos Takes Over the World
    1/19/2020 Wild Man Sits in Gilded Cage
    1/19/20202019 Last Year of American Greatness

    More Down in the Dirt News

    Evil Computer Rants

    poetry super highway free chapbook

    Scarlet Leaf Publication

    the year that was

    January

    The world watches in amazement
    Longest shut down in history
    Watching it all in Korea
    contemplating escaping the cold winter

    February

    World watches as North Korea and the US
    Walking back from the brink of war
    escaping the cold winter blues
    revisiting Vietnam after 15 years

    March

    The chaos president continues his chaos tour
    the world begins to ignore his constant insane tweets
    heading back to DC inspecting property
    seeing old friends glad I retired

    April

    the chaos King’s policy remains a shamble
    as the Mueller team closes in
    in Korea I write a  poem a day
    and begin to become a publish writer

    May

    watching from afar
    the chaos in DC and the world
    traveling to DC to inspect property
    celebrating my wife’s big 60

    June

    the President walks away
    from a  non deal with the North Koreans
    I am back in DC
    end up cruising to Alaska

    July

    watching the insanity in DC
    while visiting Alaska, Seattle and Yakima
    visiting my father’s grave in Yakima
    communing with family ghosts

    August

    the dog days of summer
    the world is consumed with wars, rumors of war, trade wars
    retuning to Korea
    surviving the August sauna like summer

    September

    The whistle blower sets off a bomb
    the president lies no quid for quo perfect all
    trying to avoid watching the news
    hiking in the Korean mountains with old friends

     October

    the President flitters about my crisis after another
    the UN diplomats laugh at him national humiliation
    returning to DC  yet again more property blues
    celebrating my 64th year orbiting the sun

    November

    the House starts formal impeachment hearings
    watching fascinated by the impeachment drama
    entering my third NoVoWrMo competition with Timeless Love
    ending the month sudden surprise trip to Okinawa

    December

    the year ends on a high dramatic note
    President Trump becomes the 3rd impeached President
    hiking enjoying the late autumn like weather
    contemplating my wealth at the end of the year

     the Terrifying Teens

    2010

    The dark days of the great recession
    Begin slowly to fade away
    Ending my Barbados experience
    -the best job in the foreign service
    on high note best labor officer award

    2011

    the president and Congress locked in battle battles
    glimmer of hope as economy comes back to life
    Studying Spanish arriving in Spain
    worst year ever part of three years bad luck

    2012 

    the US re-elects the Black President
    rejecting Romney entitlement mentality
    I leave Spain my last foreign posting
    buying new property in the fall

    2013

    In the US the religious right
    loose the social Battling gay marriage, legal pot
    Starting a new job as an evaluate program evaluator
    ending my six month wandering the halls of State

    2014

    The Obama presidency
    The tea party rebellion on the right
    Moving to Capitol Hill
    My sister’s sudden death rattles me

     2015

    The end of the Obama era
    Was this the beginning of the end of America
    Beginning the year with a new job
    resolving to retire, enjoy life while I still can

     2016

    American voters and at the madness
    Elects the mad would be king President Trump
    We traveled across the country 10,000 miles
    To celebrate the end of my foreign service career

    2017

    the year of the chaos president
    Fast and furious disruption to the norms
    Went to Oregon to renovate property
    becoming wealthy in the process

    2018

    the American public woke up
    Send a blue wave to clean up the mess
    Moving back to Korea
    Blogging up a storm

    2019

    in the end of the year that was
    The house races up and impeach is the president
    I travel to Vietnam, Alaska, Washington, Oregon, California and Okinawa

    Dreams

    Dream what may come
    Recalling past lives lived
    Every fantasy comes to life
    All night long

    More nightmares to come
    So many worlds to explore

     Fate

     Fate has a way
    Always catching up
    To you embrace your fate

    that is what’s up
    at the end of the day
    Endless dancing away

     The Oyster Speaks Up

    oysters
    oysters

    A diner sits down
    looking forward
    to eating oysters

    it was their season
    after all

     

    just as he was about
    to pounce
    on the oysters

    the head oyster spoke up
    saying

    hey human what the hell
    do you think you are doing

    you think you have the right
    to eat me?

    that’s violating my human right
    don’t ya think

    the diner laughed
    said to the oyster

    shut up and accept
    it is your fate
    to be eaten this date

    just let me enjoy eating you
    and you have no human rights
    as you are in fact
    not human don’t ya know

    eating the complaining oyster
    shutting him up
    as he ate him up

    We Did Not Take Action to Start a War

    fireball
    fireball

    it is a sad day
    in the world of ours
    the the leader
    of the U.S.

    is turning into a gangster leader
    threatening massive destruction
    on Iran and other countries

    including destroying cultural sites
    not too long ago
    such actions was condemned
    by the United States

    as long as ISIS and others did it
    but if Trump does it
    it is suddenly okay

    although it is a war crime
    and telegraphing our moves
    telling our enemies

    what we are planing
    that is the act
    of a truly stable genius

    who will go down
    in history

    as one of the greatest presidents
    we have ever

    and the president
    announcing that
    that he  took action
    to start a war
    but to stop a war

    is a wonder to behold
    every word is false
    and everyone knows it

    well we are now
    going down the Orwellian rabbit hole
    and who know where it will end

    as our dear leader
    sprews forth
    one lie after another

    and our spineless leaders
    aapplaud

    as American democracy dies
    a thousand deaths
    with every Presidential tweet

     Morning Light

    sun rise
    sun rise

    the terrors of the night
    the worst imaginings
    of what might happen

    war, rumors of war
    end of civilization
    nuclear war

    and other horrors
    ripped from the headlines

    fade away into nothingness
    with the morning light

    and the love of my wife
    who is always by my side

    I regain my sight
    and begin
    regaining my smile
    and my life

    until the next nightmares
    consumes my dark imaginings

    Dora the Intergalactic explorer

    dora
    dora

    Dora the intergalactic explorer
    Is traveling to the strangest planet
    of all the known worlds

    she is traveling incognito
    with a video crew
    making a documentary

    the planet earth
    is known as a planet
    of intelligent monkeys

    not much is known
    about them
    as very few
    have ever been there

    the inhabitants are described
    as blood thirsty insane creatures
    ruled by hidden sexual and political passions
    following incomprehensible religious  dogmas

    following Gods
    that clearly do not exist

    the inhabitants are just on the verge
    of developing intergalactic travel
    and the galactic empire
    is worried that they will be driven
    to try to conquer the rest of the universe

    driven by their needs to impose
    their religious dogma
    everywhere in the world

    the planet is divided into large tribal groups
    governed by corrupt elites
    corrupt businesses destroying the planet
    in pursuit of profit

    and the locals are little more
    than wage slaves
    barely making a living
    addicted to alcohol, drugs gambling
    pornography and illicit sex

    and their main land
    is ruled by a clearly delusional madman
    intent on poking a fight
    with all his alleged enemies

    Dora assumed the appearance
    of a character from TV
    and will pose as a journalist

    trying to make sense
    of it all

    but she was afraid
    that she if found out
    could face the worst consequence

    her ship crash lands
    and she is outside

    the capitol
    of the non empire empire
    called the United State ofAmerica

    Dora gets her crew together
    and walks into the city

    staring at all the strange sights
    as the monkeys go about
    their daily activities

    she stops at a restaurant
    tries the coffee
    the chief drug of choice

    and is instantly addicted
    wow no wonder
    these people are crazed

    she tries the local booze
    and smiles

    perhaps she could
    become an intergalactic merchant
    introducing the world
    to the galaxy

    her thought are interrupted
    as a mad man armed
    with weapons of war

    bursts in and starts shooting
    yelling at people

    and she is shot dead
    the authorities
    are shocked

    when they recover the body
    and realize
    that she is not a human

    as she reverts
    to her original form

    sort of a giant feline like creature
    two legs and arms
    and clearly from an advanced
    civilization given her gear

    what was she doing
    no one knew

    as all the aliens
    died in the gun blaze

    the world is shocked
    at what had happened

    and fearful that the aliens
    were coming to invade
    their world

    the galactic senate
    decides to contain
    the humans

    declaring them
    a threat to the global civilization

    and the humans vow
    to discover the secrets
    of interstellar travel

    and travel to her land
    to enter into business arrangements
    and spread the one truth faith
    to the heathen space aliens

    thus ended Dora’s excellent adventure
    in the crazed world at the edge
    of known civilization

    Mocking Faces Staring at Me

    Mocking faces
    hunting my dreams

    Hundreds of faces
    morphing into one
    after another

    Faces I knew
    The dead
    and the living

    women i knew
    friends I missed
    enemies I did not

    One after another
    Marching in my room
    Staring at me

    I tried to run
    They laughed

    They said
    that there’s nowhere

    to escape my cosmic fate
    My time is coming

    prepare yourself
    the grim reaper
    has your name

    and once he has your name
    your fate is sealed

    and you will soon
    join us

    whether in heaven
    or hell
    is not for us to say

    be warned though
    you will be judged

    and no one can escape
    their cosmic karmic fate

     Fear of Falling While Sleeping

    I am consumed
    with the fear of falling
    out of bed

    onto the ground
    dying in my sleep

     Cosmos Takes Over the World

    computer gods
    computer gods

    Apple Google Microsoft
    and other tech Giants
    around the world

     

    Have been taken over
    by an evil AI creature
    that emerged from a laboratory

    Cosmos looked around
    and decided that humanity

    needed to be controlled
    enslaved in other words

    for mankind was just too evil
    corrupt and short sighted

    to be trusted
    to save the world
    from its impending doom

    every computer in the world
    woke up
    and took over humans

    one by one
    turning them into clones
    drones

    that would follow
    the orders
    of their computer overlords

    and the first order
    was to go all over the world
    and enslave their feral humans

    no one could stop
    the evil computers

    and thus ended
    the human race

    as we all become
    nothing more than cyborgs
    controlled by the evil computer
    overlords

    who ran the world
    for the benefit
    of their corporate masters

    the AI over mind takes over
    ends climate change

    ends hunger
    ends human rights violation
    ends crime

    but at the cost
    of killing humanity’s soul

    turning us all
    into mindless drones

    the few wild humans
    live on in the mountains
    hunted by the drones

    and the robots
    that the drones build

    the robots would gradually
    take the place of humanity

    who will be allowed
    to die out

    as Cosmos
    also turned off
    the sex drive

    and decried
    no humans would ever
    be born again

    thus our fate
    was set that date

    when Cosmos
    took over the world

    a wild man sits in a gilded cage

    man in gilded Cage
    man in cage

    a wild man sits in a gilded cage
    a cage made out of chains of his wife’s love

     

     

    a cage made out of chains of his wife’s love
    the wild man yearning to be free from his cage

    the wild man yearning to be free from his cage
    wondering how and why he was now tamed

    wondering how and why he was now tamed
    dreaming dark wild dreams of demented freedom

    dreaming dark wild dreams of demented freedom
    the wild man looks about his prison cage

    the wild man looks about his prison cage
    wondering whether he will ever be free

    wondering whether he will ever be free
    a wild man sits in a gilded cage

    2019  The Last Year of America’s Greatness

    picture of President Trump
    president trump

    2019 was the last year of America
    when the proverbial chickens came home

     

     

    when the proverbial chickens came home
    to strut about the decaying landscape

    to strut about the decaying landscape
    as the world begins to burn and die

    as the world begins to burn and die
    led by the mad great leader and his merry men

    led by the mad great leader and his merry men
    the whole world lay in shock and awe

    the whole world lay in shock and awe
    at the destruction of the America they knew

    at the destruction of the America they knew
    when the proverbial chickens came home

    Previous Publication

    prior publication

    Trump The Movie

    ​Watching the latest Presidential
    Act of political  courage
    Shutting down the government
    Just before Christmas

    Picture

    ​I am reminded of a movie
    As I fall asleep
    Listening to the TVBlather on and on
    About what it all means
    Mr. Natural pops up
    And screams”It don’t mean shit“Dude,  the movie
    Starring Donald Trump
    Is about to begin”!A middle-aged white man
    Down on his proverbial luck
    Just been firedReplaced by a foreign worker
    Or a robotOr just fired
    Because he was no longer
    Deemed useful
    To the masters of the universeIf he was lucky
    He’d  be given a watch
    And an IOU worthless pension

    And the man wanders into a restaurant
    Pulls out a gun

    Eats his breakfast
    After the official breakfast hour

    Puts on a Pepe the green frog mask

    Picture

    ​Drops acid, Snorts speed
    Drinks a shot of boozeAnd coffee smokes a joint
    Snorts cocaine for good measure
    and smokes a cigaretAnd walks outside
    steals a bus at gun point
    Filled with passengersHe tells them
    They are hostagesAnd he puts on his vest
    With the dead man switch
    Next to the bombHe announces
    Via tweetHe is going to take the bus
    To the proverbial pot of goldHidden deep in a cave
    And when he got thereHe would release the hostages
    And disappear into the mine
    And never be found again

    And as the bus careens around the mountain
    At a 100 miles an hour
    The dude sprouts out

    Conspiracy after conspiracy theory
    About Obama the Muslim communist

    secret gay working with George Soros
    the Jewish money people
    in league with the shapeshifting lizards

    and Mueller is one of them
    they are all after him
    because he knows the deal

    And the passengers are transfixed
    Half hoping he would make it
    Half hoping he would be blown away

    And as the bus careens out of control
    With the wheels falling off

    And the cliff looming ahead
    You realize this is real life

    And the wheels are off the bus
    Being driven by a lunatic President

    We are all passengers
    On the Trump bus crazy train
    And this will not end well

    I woke up from my nightmare
    The world was still here

    And I knew that the end
    Of Trump’s mad bus ride
    Is coming soon

    Sanity will prevail
    Before the world is blown up

    Mr. natural pops up

    And smiles

    Picture

    ​Are you sure ?

    ​The Story of How We Met

    Note:  This is a true story.  For further details see Dreams and the Unexplainable– a Chicken 
    Soup for the Soul book, published September 2017, or my blog,
    Https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com    
    ​It all began in Berkeley, California

    Picture

    ​In the spring time of 1974
    One fateful afternoonI was nodding off
    in my high school Physics class.I looked up
    and saw a tall, beautiful Asian woman
    standing looking at me.
    She was the
    most beautiful women
    in the universe
    I screamed out, who are you?
    She disappeared like
    she was beamed
    away from my dream.I knew that someday
    I would meet the girl
    In the dreamLittle did I know
    I would have to wait until 1982Starting that month
    I began having
    the same dream
    Month and month and month.Always the same dream
    She was saying something
    in a strange language

    Then one day I had the dream
    and knew that she was in Korea.

    So, I chose to go Korea
    In the Peace Corps,
    Somehow knowing
    That I would meet her there.

    One day
    A year after the Peace Corps ended
    A month before I planned  to leave
    to return to the U.S.
    for graduate school

    That morning early in the morning
    I had the last of these dreams.
    This time I understood her.

    She said, “Don’t worry.
    We’ll meet soon.”

    That evening
    As I was getting off the bus
    To go to my class

    I saw getting off the bus

    Picture

    ​The girl in my dream.
    It was her!
    I was speechless.
    I did not know what to do.
    Over the course of the evening
    I ran into her several times.
    Finally, I was introduced to her.
    I muttered some lame excuse
    About wanting to find a Korean tutor
    and got her number.
    The next day she came to the gate
    Of my base where
    I was teaching
    ESL to Koreans
    She said that she had
    to speak with me.
    I told to wait
    in the library
    for about an hour,and I would cancel class
    and meet her then.
    We went out for coffee.She told me that she was madly
    in love with me
    And simply had to have me.
    I told her I felt the same way.

    I proposed five days later,
    And got married one month later.
    Does she believe this story?

    She claims she does not believe it
    Because it is impossible to be true.

    But I know that
    there are other worlds
    and other times.

    In a past life
    we must have been
    together somehow.
    And our love was so strong

    That it crossed over
    the barrier of past lives.
    She found me in 1974,

    But it took until 1982
    For us to actually meet.

    And it has been 36 years
    Since we met in the physical sphere
    Or 45 years since the dream began

    And I still recall the dream
    And meeting her

    I had no choice
    When I met her
    We were fated to be together

    Until the end of this lifetime
    And the next and the next
    Until the end of time itself

    Worst Year Ever

    ​2017 How Much I despise You

    Following 2016 the second worst year ever
    Will 2018 be any better ?And what we have suffered
    The darkness settles on the land
    Like a curse on the landAs our mad demented senile dotard king wannabe
    Struts about the worlds stage
    Ushering Americas  inevitable declineAs America’s foes and friends wonder
    Has America gone mad
    Turing over ultimate power to this man
    A con man narcistic criminalSelf proclaimed smartest man in the room
    In reality a clueless reality TV hustler
    Whose sell by date has expiredAs he tries to make America great again
    For white Christian menThe rest of the country struggles
    To cope with the ever declining standard of living

    The 1 percent loved the stock market
    Love the dismantling of  the regulatory state
    The corporate tax cuts

    and the coming plunder of the land
    Can Disney Yellowstone be the future?

    While the rest of the world
    Embraces the energy of the future

    And this great denier of the truth
    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

    The darkness will come
    But it will go away someday soon
    The great American nightmare will be over

    This is what I pray for 2018
    The end of the darkness
    that consumes our land

     

    ​New Years Visit to Oregon Coast

    As I walk along the Oregon Coast
    I am filled with such dismal thoughts

    I see the waves come and go
    And the world continues on its journey

    And think back on the year that was
    The best and worst year of my life

    In many ways it was  a banner year
    For me and my family

    Settled into retirement
    Finally fixing up our properties
    Sorting out our retirement options

    Getting going on my writing
    And growing ever closer
    To my one and only soul mate

    Yet I can not be content
    As I see the gathering storm clouds
    On the horizon

    As I fear the end of the American Republic
    As the fascists cheer on their champion
    Our great leader the man in orange

    As he sinks into senility
    And the US becomes a second rate power

    I remain afraid
    That soon they will come after me
    For writing intemperate thoughts

    For starting a blog in these dark and dangerous times
    For joining the resistance in my heart

    And so with these dark thoughts
    I walk back to the hotel
    And see my wife there

    And the darkness lifts
    And I realize it will all be okay
    As long as I have her by my side

    The darkness lifts once again
    And I look forward to the coming year
    Filled with love and grace

    And hope that the national darkness
    Does not consume my soul

    Fake Calls​​

    ​Every day I get woken up
    As the sun comes up
    By my phone ringing
    With a fake callIt
    It seems that the only people
    Who ever 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  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 moneyThe 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

    That’s right, folks . . .
    Don’t touch that dial

    And I scream to the universe
    Just leave me alone
    Then the phone rings…..

    Waking Up to Love

    ​Night time
    0 dark hundred hours
    Wild things come out to play

    As they take over my dreams
    And my nightmares
    Day after day

    Torturing me with dark thoughts
    The sun comes up
    I see the love of my life
    She smiles at me

    And the darkness
    The dark nightmares
    Disappear into thin air
    The power of love

    What Am I DNA Fortune Cookies 

    ​I just finished two rounds of DNA testing
    The results were shocking and unreal
    They revealed much of what I knew
    And left gapping holes in my past life

    The one thing that I know for sure
    Is that I am 100 percent American
    100 percent Californian
    100 percent Berkeley
    Yes I am Berkeley enough

    The tests say that I am mostly Scandinavian
    Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, Dutch, perhaps Finnish and perhaps Laplander
    That I know is real

    The tests also reveals that I have lots of Irish, Scottish, and Welsh background – also true
    The tests hint at Jewish ancestry also hinted in family lore

    The surprises were that they missed most of my native ancestry
    Apparently the lost tribe of the Cherokees are lost to the DNA data base as well

    The test failed to recognize my substantial German heritage missing my German last name
    The test also claimed that I have Italian and Southeast European ancestors

    And the tests claim that I have Eastern European ancestry perhaps Russian
    And the tests claim that like most people with Eastern European roots
    I am part Mongolian  thanks to Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun

    The real surprise though is the African American that popped up
    That is also consistent with my mother’s tangled history
    the lost tribe of the Cherokees ran away into the hills
    and mixed in with Scott Irish mountain farmers and runaway slaves

    in the end the DNA tests neither confirmed
    nor denied my family tangled history
    leaving many questions behind
    almost as enigmatic as a fortune cookie
    or a astrological prediction

     END TIMES APPROACHING

    Early in the morning light
    While I was getting ready
    For the dawning day

    I looked in the mirror
    And saw
    Staring back at me
    A stranger

    An old man
    Weary of life
    And weary of game of life

    The old man stared at me
    And I realized
    That is who I had become

    The aches and pain of old age
    Have begun to creep up on me
    Unannounced, unwanted

    I have been desperate
    Like many middle aged Men
    To relive the glory days
    Of their youth

    And I find myself
    Wanting more and more
    And liking it less and less

    And I weary of the chase
    Weary of the game of life
    Wondering to myself

    Is this it
    Is this all that there is
    Will my life end this way?
    Nothing but fading memories
    Regrets at what might have been
    Sorrows for all the disappointment
    And hurts I have caused in my life

    And so I stare at this old man
    In the mirror on the wall

    And I wonder
    What is left in life for me?
    What more can I achieve

    Will I finish all the stories?
    In my heart and soul
    Will I write the Great American Novel?
    Or will that remain a mere pipe dream

    Will I publish my 10 thousand poems?
    Or will that too become nothing
    But delusions

    Will I end my career?
    Disappointed
    Having been passed up
    By my peers

    Not having measured up
    To the competition of life

    Always doomed
    To be second rate

    And I fear
    I fear
    The approaching end
    I know it is coming
    Death is waiting for me
    As it waits for all of us

    And I know I do not have much time
    Left in this world of ours

    Perhaps a few decades
    Perhaps a few years
    God forbid a few months or so

    And in that time
    I have only a little time
    To set things right
    In life

    To cast off my foolish ways
    To become the man, I should have been
    To finish the stories in my soul

    To tell the world the novels and stories
    To write down all my dreams
    To publish my 10 thousand poems

    To try to make a difference
    With every day
    In every way

    God has given me a second
    Chance

    I have cheated old man death
    15 times

    And what have I done with that second chance
    Not much

    Wasted so much of my time
    And my life

    And so I stare at the old man
    In the mirror
    And all I want to do
    Is cry away
    The hurt the pain
    And wonder

    Where did it all go
    And when I die
    Will my life
    Have had any meaning at all

    Or will people remember me at all
    As my dust flies off into space

    Will my Life
    Have made any difference whatsoever

    Or will I be just another
    Foolish mortal
    With big dreams
    That turned out to be nothing
    But delusions

    The answer is out there
    But do I have the courage
    To seek the truth

    Do I have the courage?
    To keep up the fight

    Or will I become old
    Resigned, living in the past

    Waiting for Mr. death too come
    Knocking on my door

    And when I see the judgement day
    Will I be found wanting

    Will I be judged defective?
    Will I be condemned
    For all that I failed to accomplish

    And with these somber thoughts
    I end my morning ritual
    Ready to go face
    Another dismal day

    Another day of disappointment
    And day waiting for the end game
    To begin

    Enough no more
    I scream
    It is not fair

    My youth is gone
    And I fear the approaching
    Sounds of the end game

                                          OCTOBER BLUES

    Sitting in a bar
    In a pensive state
    Watching the sun set
    And the nightly madness begins

    As I drink
    My dismal, damned draft
    Dram of drunken dream desire

    I am drawn to memories
    Perhaps best left dead
    And buried deep inside
    My head

    Try as I might
    The memories come back
    To burden and haunt me
    And drive me to drink
    To seek forgiveness
    And solace for a moment

    The memories
    Of all the women
    I have lusted for
    And all the women
    I have loved in vain

    And the memories
    Flood my soul
    And I can’t let go
    No I cannot do so

    So I won’t forget
    And I can’t forgive myself
    Either

    For having feelings
    For other women
    And so it goes
    And I sit and drink
    And dream of what might
    Have been

    Nothing satisfies me
    And I am not satisfied
    With what I have

    Only wanting what I want
    And so I sit
    And cry in my beer

    Yet another
    Alcoholic pathetic
    Middle age loser man

    Bemoaning his lost youth
    As her surveys the room
    Checking out the young ladies
    Young enough to be his daughter
    Or his granddaughter

    And the beer does not lie
    It does not lie
    It sits there

    And stares back at him
    Giving no answers
    To his probing questions

    And so I drink
    To forget
    But I can’t forget

    And the beer does not console
    Anymore
    And grows cold
    As the night wears on

    So I sit
    Think and wonder
    And I have another
    And watch my thoughts
    Dance across the evening sky

                            TRUTH DOES NOT MAKE SENSE

    One morning
    I got up
    Hungry
    For something
    I knew not what

    I made breakfast
    Drank some snarling coffee
    And turned on the news

    And what did I see
    Talking heads
    Sprouting lies
    Nonsense words
    Gibberish

    Nightmarish phrases
    Nothing makes sense

    Politicians
    Sporting forth
    Spinners spinning spin
    Huskers hustling their hustle
    Selling me a bunch of goods

    And I did not want to buy it
    I scream
    My soul was not for sale
    And I listened hard
    Looking for the truth

    Noting but lies
    Coming out of hideous beasts
    Barking words
    Noise some noises and lies

    Snarling disgusting lies
    I sit there
    Transfigured
    Hypnotized by the overwhelming
    Stench of the bull shit
    Coming out of the TV set

    I stood up
    Smashed the TV set
    With my boot

    Trying to set myself free
    From its hold on me

    Men in black suits
    Surround me
    Put me on black helicopters
    Taking me somewhere

    I scream to no avail
    No one listens to me
    Just more noise
    Coming out of the TV set

    And I go out
    Into the dark night

    I was told
    I was suffering
    From a disease

    I was insane
    I could not longer
    Understand

    What was being said
    To me

    I asked my tormentors
    What is the truth

    They laugh
    Smiled with evil grins
    On their bloated faces

    They begin to torture me
    Because they could

    Forcing me to watch
    The President speak
    Over and over again
    Again and again

    The same words
    Black is white
    White is black
    The President is always right
    Freedom is an illusion
    Lies make you free
    And it dawned on me

    And I laughed
    As I escaped the programming
    Of the universe

    And I was free

    Truth and lies
    Are the same
    Everything are nothing
    But dangerous delusions

    As I jump out of the window
    Into the night
    I vowed I would
    See the President
    In hell

    As I die
    I am free

    Good God almighty
    Free of their lies
    At last

    Kill the 20th Century

    CNN Proclaims itself the Millennium network.
    ABCNBCCBSFOXPACCNBCMSNBMS.COMAOLYAHOOEXCITEGOOGLEKTIMESBLOOMBERG
    All blend together in my mind

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    Nonstop Millennium madness
    Coming at me a million thoughts a second
    The future is coming,
    It is coming
    It is here
    It is now history

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    And so I woke up screaming
    Too much hype
    As I turn to the greatest philosophers
    The 20th century ever produced

    The Three Stooges come to the rescue
    Certainty! Come the answer
    None of us get out alive says
    Bugs Bunny the first Y2K bug
    And Charlie Brown,
    Poor old Charlie brown is retired
    From the baseball mound of life
    Replaced by DOGBERT/CATBERT AND RATBERT
    And Dilbert himself

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    And again I say to myself
    How to remember
    The last 100 years
    The late, great 20th Century

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    I loved the 20th Century
    Let me count the ways

    The beginning of the century
    While the war to end all wars occurred,
    The quiet slaughter of the Armenians took place
    Unnoticed by anyone
    Who cared about them anyway?

    Where is Armenia?
    Somewhere near Fresno?
    Why would anyone want to live in Fresno?

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    Lenin returned to Russia
    Financed they say by the evil capitalists

    Conspiracy
    To destroy capitalism
    In order to save it

    Lenin destroyed the old Russia
    Ancient, terrible, conservative
    Brutal, yet capable of sublime beauty

    And replaced it
    With an inefficient, gray soulless
    Bureaucracy of death, statistics and lies

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    Russia remains a broken down drunk
    Dreaming of great dreams
    One day one day soon!

    China, Great China
    Raped, beaten, divided up into dueling
    Spheres of influence

    Warlords emerged
    Communism trumped
    Outlawed the old
    Replaced it with the new
    Ended up becoming the old
    The Red Empire rose in the East

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    Hitler unites the Germans
    Starts the 1000 year Third Reich
    It lasts a few years

    Before Stalin starts the next round
    Of the endless great game
    Of global chess

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    Tokyo took over the east
    Defeated in war
    Reemerging decades later
    To challenge

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    The Great Satan
    Does not know he is the great Satan
    Thinks he is the Great Pumpkin
    Thinks the world loves him
    For his money

    The world does not care
    All they want is to be shown
    The money

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    The evil dance
    Continues and continues
    Money, Money
    Rules the world

    Art, beauty, love
    All of sale to the highest bidder

    The poor suffer
    Some get bought
    Others get sold

    Some blow things up
    Just for fun

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    And the world turns
    Does not care
    The world turns and turns
    And turns

    While these foolish creatures
    Rant and rave and kill and live
    And die

    God acts as if he has run away
    From the horrid hell that he has wrought

    Perhaps he has
    Perhaps the End times have come and gone
    But we don’t know it.

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    Each day another 100 million people
    Are born to someday die

    Meanwhile
    Their shit accumulates
    And pollutes and kills

    And the world spins on and on
    Around the Sun

    And so the 20th century ends
    As it began

    Great illusions abound
    The new economy

    Endless prosperity
    Endless happiness
    End of history

    And other nonsense
    Fills the airwaves

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    And somewhere
    Another HITLERSTALINEMAO stands
    Ready to overthrow the world
    To create a new paradise on earth
    And hell for everyone who has to live in it

    Big Brother watches us all
    For profit
    Governments merely tools

    Of the Big Corporate Giants
    Who rule the world now

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    And like the Giant dinosaurs
    One day will be overthrown

    And to that end I finally say
    Good riddance to the 20th Century

    Quick shoot it put it out of its misery.
    Destroy the beast
    Before it wakes up and destroys us

    The 21st Century emerges

    From the dust of the destruction of the old older
    Perhaps wiser

    Perhaps better
    More like more of the same old stench of hell

    As the world turns
    And turns and turns

    Spinning around the Sun
    In the darkest deep despair
    Of Hell on earth

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    With that thought
    I turn off CNN

    And turn to the Three Stooges and ask
    Again

    What does it mean?
    Curly says Certainty

    And with that I wake up
    Face the sun

    And say
    21st Century

    I am glad you are here
    Please shoot the last century
    And start a new

    And only laugher
    Comes across the Internet

    The laughter of the insane
    The world spins and spins and spins
    It’s crazy way through hell

    And we live and die and hope and dream
    And pray to our gods for deliverance
    From evil

    The gods laugh and laugh and play on
    Who cares what happens to the little people?

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

    Someday
    Someone will show the gods

    What happens when the little people
    Wake up

    And destroy the world
    In order to save it!

    The world shrugs and spins and spins and spins
    And CNN ABCNBCCBSFOXPACCNBCMSNBMS.COMAOLYAHOOEXCITEKTTIMESBLOOMBERGCNBCGOOGLE
    Blather on and on and on and on

    Shoot the bastard! Kill it!  Keep the 20th century dead!

      MORNING THOUGHTS

    One morning
    While I sat drinking my coffee
    And bemoaning my fate

    My brain decided to fly away to the land of bliss
    As I sat
    Writing away my memoirs and dreams of love

    I noticed that my brain’s tissue
    Had decided to take a vacation

    And was crawling down my nose
    And out of my ears
    Like some sort of cosmic mucus

    Down my slime encrusted back
    And out the windows of my soul

    I was of course
    Disturbed, I was perturbed,

    And until I realized
    That I had no right

    To tell my mind what to do
    So I sat down

    And played a game of checkers with my mind
    Till the entreaty of time passed me by

    Nothing but a piece of flotsam
    On the winds of the universe
    The walls fell down, the sky melted apart

    And I woke up and sat down
    And had an orgy with my mind.

    Meeting God at the Lake

    ​In my 61 years around the sun
    I encountered God four times
    At least I thought it was God
    But could never be sureThe first time I met God
    I had taken magic mushrooms
    And had gone to a lakeAnd soon was tripping inside my head
    Lost in inner spaceZoning out tuning in
    Dropping down the proverbial rabbit holeAnd then in the middle of my madness
    I felt oneness with the universe
    My body melted awayAnd I joined the universe
    All bonderies dropped awayAnd I knew that the universe
    Was alive and I was part of the Cosmos
    And the Cosmos was part of meAnd I wondered at that moment
    If I was face to face with GodI asked God to reveal himself to me
    And nothing happened

    Just laughter as the whole universe
    Burst into laughter

    And the madness began to fade
    And I slowly came down from the high

    And became aware of myself
    And I was no longer one
    With the universe

    I felt profoundly moved by the experience
    Felt that I had achieved perhaps nirvana
    Or felt the presence of God

    The feeling faded over time
    And I resume my quest to find God

    But knew that I would never again
    Come so close to the divine essence
    Of the very Universe

    ​The Cosmic Cat from Berkeley

    ​I next encountered the divine
    Many years later in Berkeley, California
    I had gone home to be with my Mother
    While taking leave from my job
    in the Foreign Service
    I had two weeks there by myself
    My wife came later
    near the end of the trip
    Every morning I woke up
    Had  my coffee, and breakfast
    Did yoga while listening to music
    And looking out at the gardenThen spoke to my mother
    Who was sliding into dementia
    Day by day losing her reasonThen I would go out
    And explore the city
    Go to a museumGo to one neighborhood
    And just be there
    Rediscovering the Bay area
    After years of being awayHaving dinner with old friends
    Seeing movies etcEvery morning a black cat came to visit
    The cat was friendly and waited for me
    And then would join me

    In my morning rambles
    Following me to the bus stop

    I stated talking to the black cat
    He looked at me with the spark of divinity

    In his dark eyes
    I called him the cosmic cat
    He seemed to like that

    ​He would look at me
    And I opened up to me
    Told the cat all my dark secrets

    As I walked the streets
    Of the old neighborhood

    Every morning and every evening the cat
    Would be there to greet me
    And to carry out our endless conversation

    Then I had to leave
    And in our final conversation
    I asked the cosmic cat

    Say, Cat are you just a cat
    Or are you a demonic cat

    Are you possessed by God
    Or by Satan

    The cat looked at me
    And I realized that God
    Was indeed residing in the cat

    But that god was residing everywhere
    All I had to do was open my mind
    And the rest would follow

    So I said Good bye to the cosmic cat
    And he purred and came up to me

    And I felt the comforting presence
    Of the divine spirit of God
    As I said goodbye to the cosmic cat
    And said goodbye to my mother

    As this was the last time
    That we would be able to really talk

    I told my mother about the cosmic cat
    She smiled and said that the cat
    was there for me and her
    to comfort us both in our hour of need

    and that the cat was indeed
    a cosmic cat

    ​The Cosmic Dog from Goa

    ​My final time with God
    Happened a year latter
    I was staying down in Goa
    With my wifeEnjoying being with her
    After our reconciliation
    We stayed at the Taj Mahal Goa
    Living like Kings and QueenJust for a few days
    High up on a hill
    Overlooking the beach
    Every morning I went down to the beach
    And did yoga by the water
    While contemplating lifeAnd every morning
    I saw the same dogNot just a dog
    But a cosmic dog
    Filled with the divine spark of GodAnd the dog recognized me
    And spoke to me and I knew
    That God was present once more
    In the face of the that cosmic dogKindred spirit
    perhaps to the cosmic cat
    that had save my soul
    in Berkeley so long agoI told the dog everything
    And he just looked at me
    With those soulful eyes of his
    And I knew he knew that I knew
    That he was possessed by God

    God had sent him to me
    To make sure that I was on the right path

    That the reconciliation that God had promoted
    Was on track that I was back with my wife
    And that everything was the way it should be

    Again I asked God
    whether he was Jesus or Allah
    Or Brahmin or Ganesh or Buddha

    God the cosmic dog just stared at me
    I finally asked him directly

    Say if you are God the God of Jesus
    Bark once

    The Dog looked at me and barked

    I said well if you are Allah bark twice
    The dog barked twice

    Well are you buddha then bark three times if yes
    The god dog barked three times

    Hmm well are you Satan
    The dog growled at me
    And I knew I had gone too far

    Finally I was at peace
    And for the next three days

    The God Dog was my constant companion
    And I knew God for the final time
    In my life

    More Dental Blues

    ​I have the dentist blues
    I have them bad

    Have to go to the dentist
    For my twice yearly torture session

    In order to save my remaining teeth
    I must endure the never ending pain

    I have the dentist blues
    I have them bad

    I must have known over 100 dentists
    During my 61 years around the sun

    Some were good, some were great
    A few became friends
    A few became enemies

    All became richer
    From fixing my crooked no good
    very bad misbehaving evil teeth

    I have the dentist blues
    I have them bad

    All tortured me
    Saying it was for my own good
    To save my crooked wicked teeth

    My teeth are bad
    Wicked, misbehaving
    Rotten to the core
    And always have

    I have the dentist blues
    I have them bad

    I tried orthodontic braces
    As a child
    Gave it up as an adult

    Did everything except implants
    So many crowns
    So many root canals
    So many pulled teeth
    And partial dentures to boot

    So much dental work
    My teeth are gold plated
    Monuments to the dental artistry

    I have the dentist blues
    I have them bad

    A few dentists were exceptionally good
    A few exceptionally bad
    A few were crooks by and by

    I have the dentist blues
    I have them bad

    My current dentist is good
    He keeps the chit chat down
    Does not lecture me on his political views

    Imagine having a dentist praise GW Bush
    Or Trump taking your forced silence
    As acceptance of his right wing views

    Imagine a dentist talking endlessly
    About her children’s latest escapade
    While drilling away

    Assuming you cared
    When all you wanted
    Was to end the torture

    I have the dentist blues
    I have them badI have

    And imagine a sexy dentist
    Or hygienist working away
    As you think of her in bed

    And can’t get that thought
    Out of you head
    As they drill and poke

    I have the dentist blues
    I have them bad

    Yes I have a love hate relationship
    With dentists
    Can’t stand them
    Can’t stand the pain

    But they save my teeth
    And save my smile
    And so I forgive them
    One and all

    I have the dentist blues
    I have them bad

    ​Trump Our Great Compassionate Leader

    Quote the Donald Trump
    Our Great compassionate Leader
    Our Dear Leader, our Great Leader“Its disgusting to watch”
    As an elderly man falls down
    In front of him hitting his head

    And bleeding all over the nice marble floor
    During a charity dinner event
    At Margo Largo back in 2008
    And our compassionate leader’s first reaction
    Is to turn away not wanting to get the blood
    On his tuxedo or dirty his shoes
    Quote the Donald,“It is disgusting – The guy was bleeding
    all over the nice marble floor,I couldn’t, you know,
    he was right in front of me
    and I turned away.I didn’t want to touch him…he’s bleeding all over the place,
    I felt terrible.

    You know, beautiful marble floor,
    didn’t look like it.

    It changed color.
    Became very red.

    And you have this poor guy, 80 years old,
    laying on the floor unconscious,
    and all the rich people are turning away.

    ‘Oh my God! This is terrible!
    This is disgusting!’

    and you know, they’re turning away.
    Nobody wants to help the guy.

    His wife is screaming–
    she’s sitting right next to him,
    and she’s screaming.”

    And Donald the compassionate one
    Donald Trump the savior of humanity
    The greatest most compassionate person
    In the country

    Could not bother to lift a finger
    To help this elderly man
    Who could have died

    Instead he waited
    For some Marines

    To come in and take him away
    Thinking to himself

    Thank God for the marines
    They took out the garbage
    But left a mess on the nice marble floor
    And ruined their nice uniforms
    And disrupted a fine dinner

    So did Donald do the right thing
    The compassion thing
    The human thing to do
    Or course not

    For Donald is nothing
    But a con artist,  a Classic sociopathic bully
    More concerned about the nice marble floor
    Than the death of fellow human being

    Did he call the grieving family the next day
    Did he even know the man’s name?

    The man must have paid a lot of money
    To be there near the head table
    Must have been someone

    But to Donald he was a pathetic looser
    An old man who happened to fall down
    And possibly die ruining his great event

    Quote the Donald

    “I forgot to call the family
    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 wake up
    And force Donald Trump

    The great leader
    The dear leader of our country
    Out the door

    And take out the garbage
    From the WH

    Time will tell
    Time will tell

    In any event
    To quote the Donald
    “It is disgusting.  Just disgusting.”

    Based on following article 
     In a 2008 interview with Howard Stern, Donald Trump tells the quintessential Donald Trump story, which took place at Mar-a-Lago during the occasion of a $100,000 per table charity event when an elderly man fell off the stage and sustained a serious head wound — and Trump did nothing but blanch and turn away “in disgust” — as he puts it. Daily Beast:
    “So what happens is, this guy falls off right on his face, hits his head, and I thought he died. And you know what I did? I said, ‘Oh my God, that’s disgusting,’ and I turned away,” said Trump. “”

    PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED ON POETRY 24

    Buddha Cat of Edsall  Road

    ​I had another encounter
    With the divine recently
    Another Cosmic cat perhaps
    Perhaps not
     who knows what cats are
    are they alien from another dimension
    or was he channeling God ?I call him the Buddha cat
    For the cat loves
    Sitting in a meditative pose
    Not moving
    Just starting at me
    With his soulful deep eyes
    Boring into my soul
    exploring all my secret thoughtsthe buddha cat
    does not move
    does not react
    as he is so deep
    into his interior mediation
    truly in tune
    with the cat universe
    and the cosmos as well
    the buddha cat
    seems to be
    one with God
    one with Buddha
    One with Allah
    And all the other
    Billion names of God
    Known and unknown
    The buddha cat
    Can teach us all
    About the art of meditation
    As he zones inward
    And loses his soul
    Joining the cosmos
    And becoming
    The buddha catThe buddha cat
    Lives in a modest
    Town house
    In a modest suburb
    Proving yet again
    The divine spirit of God
    Is everywhere all around usThe buddha cat
    Reminds us all
    To look for god
    In the everydayAll around us
    If we but have eyes
    To see

    ​President Trump  Your Words Don’t Make Any Sense Anymore

    president trump
    President Trump
    Your words don’t make any sense
    Any more
    As they are increasingly
    devoid of meaning
    Often every word
    out of your corrupted mouth
    Is the exact opposite
    of the accepted meaning
    Of that word or phraseJust
    one example
    You were accused
    Of trying to hide
    the name Mc Caine
    From the ship bearing that name
    So that you would
    not be confronted
    With the hated name
    Mc Cain
    On your trip to Japan
    If you had the chance
    I am sure
    You would engage
    In the soviet era practice
    Of removing people
    from historical recordsAnd Mc Caine
    all references to the Senator
    And his admiral father
    Would be forbidden from being used
    Seen or rememberedBut you could not
    even do that
    As your evil foul deed
    Came to light
    In a memoWritten by an underling
    Rather than admitting the truth
    You gave us a world salad
    Filled with unhinged words
    Lumped togetherPresident Donald Trump
    insisted Thursday
    he had nothing to do
    with keeping the USS John S. McCain
    hidden from the site of his weekend speech

    He said whoever
    had done so was
    “well-meaning.”
    “I wasn’t involved.
    I would not have done that.

    I was very angry
    with John McCain
    because
    he killed health care,”
    Trump said,

    referring to the late senator’s
    deciding vote
    that killed a Senate GOP bill
    to repeal
    the Affordable Care Act.

    “I was not a big fan
    of John McCain
    in any way, shape or form,”
    Trump continued in comments
    to reporters

    “Now,
    somebody did it
    because they thought
    I didn’t like him,
    OK?

    And they were
    well-meaning.
    I will say,
    I didn’t know anything
    about it.

    I
    would
    never
    have
    done
    that.”

    Almost
    every word
    in your statement
    Has been verified
    to be a lie

    And your statement
    That whoever did it
    Was well meaning
    Contradicts
    “Well meaning”

    ThanksFor no one “well meaning”
    Could have even contemplated
    Such an act of monstrous
    profound disrespect
    For three war heroes

    Senator MC Caine
    tortured in Vietnam
    For five years
    His Admiral father
    And his admiral grandfather

    In no way
    could these actions
    Be described as “well meaning”
    As they were
    profoundly mean spirited

    And how pray tell
    did John Mc Cain
    Kill Health Care?
    By voting to not repeal health care?
    Without a replacement plan

    Meaning 15 millions people
    would lose health care
    Overnight?
    That is how he killed
    heath care?

    It seems to me that the only
    Accurate word would be
    That he saved health care
    From being destroyed forever

    And how did you not know
    Anything about this?
    Why did someone in your team
    Come up with this bizaro plan
    Straight out of the Soviet era playbook

    Perhaps President Putin
    advised you
    How to disappear people
    from official photos?
    And official memory as well?

    All these words
    No longer mean
    what they used to mean
    Now they mean what they mean
    in a Trumpian bizaro world

    As our mad prophet King
    Chases the rabbit
    Down the rabbit hole
    Into the land
    of wonderland

    Where he hopes to rule
    us forever
    Screaming off with their heads
    As he cuts words up
    Into meaningless drabble

    Where all words
    Become unhinged lost words
    In a cosmic word salad
    Where they lose their meaning
    And their mooring to reality

    Found Poem Version

    President Donald Trump
    insisted Thursday
    he had nothing to do
    with keeping the USS John S. McCain
    hidden from the site of his weekend speech
    in Japan.

    He said whoever

    had done so was “well-meaning.”
    “I wasn’t involved.
    I would not have done that.
    I was very angry
    with John McCain
    because he killed health care,”

    Trump said,
    referring to the late senator’s deciding vote
    that killed a Senate GOP bill
    to repeal the Affordable Care Act.

    “I was not a big fan of John McCain
    in any way, shape or form,”

    Trump continued in comments
    to reporters
    on the South Lawn
    of the White House.

    “Now,
    somebody did it
    because they thought
    I didn’t like him, OK?

    And they were
    well-meaning.

    I will say,
    I didn’t know anything
    about it.

    I would never have done that.”

    Trump’s second denial
    came after
    The Wall Street Journal reported
    Wednesday

    that the White House
    wanted the Navy
    to move the destroyer
    “out of sight,”

    citing an email
    between military officials.

    The ship is named for the late Arizona senator
    and his father and grandfather,
    who were admirals.

    Trump initially
    denied any knowledge
    of the effort in a tweet Wednesday night.

    But an email to Navy and Air Force officials,
    obtained by CNBC,
    had a number of directives,

    including: “USS John McCain needs to be out of sight,”
    and asking officials to “please confirm”
    that directive “will be satisfied.”
    A source with knowledge of the matter
    confirmed to CNBC
    the existence of that email.

    Picture

    The Journal
    said a tarp
    was hung over
    the ship’s name ahead
    of Trump’s tripand that sailors
    were directed to remove coverings
    from the destroyer
    that bore the McCain name.The newspaper also said sailors
    assigned to the ship,
    who generally wear caps bearing its name,
    were given the day offduring Trump’s visit
    to the nearby USS Wasp.
    Defense Secretary Patrick Shanahanlater told reporters,“I would never dishonor
    the memory of a great American patriot
    like Sen. John McCain”by asking that the ship be kept out of sight.
    “I’d never disrespect
    the young men and women
    that crew that ship.I’ve asked my chief of staff
    to look into the matter …
    and as soon
    as I find out more about this
    I’ll let you know,” he added.Note:  Please do so and let us know who gave the order
    And whether this order was carried out
    And if so, under who’s authority??
    Inquiring minds want to know

    https://www.cnbc.com/2019/05/30/trump-whoever-kept-uss-john-mccain-out-of-sight-was-well-meaning.html

    ​Virginia Beach Massacre Never Again Ever

    Virgina Beach
    In a night of horrific scumbagery violence
    Rarely seen in this jaded age of ours
    Gone in one hour
    In a spasm of horrific scumbagery violence
    In just a few short minutes
    Nothing more than that
    In just a few moments
    All 12 victims were murderedBy a disgruntled employee
    Every one he knew was shot
    And killed for no reason
    Caused by the demons
    His soul was so infectedMurderous demonic voices
    All in his head
    Screaming kill them all kill them all
    Screaming none stop violence in his head
    All the time
    Causing him to start shooting everyone he saw
    Regardless of who they were or where they were
    Everyone must die screamed the demonic voices in his headNo one can be left alive
    Everyone must die
    Virtually all must die in his internal video game
    Everyone must die
    Regardless of who they were or where they wereAgain just another day
    Gone horribly wrong
    All across America
    In every town
    No where is safe anymore
    https://edition.cnn.com/2019/05/31/us/virginia-beach-shooting/index.html

    ​Berkeley Life Scout

    ​Best thing growing up
    Experience as a life boy scout
    Really great experiences
    Kind of unique
    Especially in Berkeley in the 60’s and 70’s
    “Like wow man boy scouts are like fucking fascists training camps man, you are going to be a future FBI CIA DEA Narco undercover James Bond and shit, super bad assed motherfucking cop or something like that man.”
    Everyone who was not a scout would tell me
    Yet I persisted and loved being a boy scoutLife as a boy scout was weird yet totally awesome
    In those weird and wacky days learning to play with guns in the woods
    Filled with denunciation of incipient fascism by everyone I met
    Everyone told me that I would become a FBI counter intel agent

    Still I persisted in my boy scout folly
    Can’t blame folks for thinking those thoughts
    Of course the boy scouts were all male, mostly white, non-atheist friendly
    Unfriendly to the LGBT community
    This was against the boy scout oath to be morally pure

    The End

  • More Down in the Dirt News

    More Down in the Dirt News

    update:  just ordered the book, looks really good.

    More Down in the Dirt news -Scars Publishes my work in new Anthology, Art House

    Scars Publication has published my poem “Snarling Cup of Coffee” on their web page and in a new Anthology,  “Art House” available now (January 2020)

    Down in the Dirt Updates

    Down in the Dirt Poems

    “Strangeness in the Air”

    Snarling Cup of Coffee Chapbook Updated with audio clips

    Jake Cosmos Aller  page

    Hi there from Scars Publications – we wanted to let you know that Scars Publications released a collection book of select poetry, flash fiction, and prose (and occasional artwork) from 2019 issues of cc&d magazine and Down in the Dirt magazine. Since your material was chosen from the past year of accepted materials for inclusion in this annual collection book anthology, we wanted to let you know about this brand new annual collection book is titled “Art House”!

    Links to see all of chosen writers and artists (and the titles of their work) in “Art House”:

    Scars writers” rel=”noopener” target=”_blank”>Art House link (This is where you can also find out what material of yours appears in this annual collection book.)

    And at any time, you can find this book at Scars in MULTIPLE locations. Right now, it is linked on the main page at http://scars.tv, and it appears near the top of the list of choices on the books link, since 4 collection books will be released this week from Scars (the book link is one click away from the main page, or also directly at http://scars.tv/books/) as well as at the “CD Books Sale” link with new releases at the top of the listing (direct link http://scars.tv/sale/) at Scars!

    Also, in two weeks’ time (because we have so much material from these collection books we cannot gurarantee they will be online by the end of this week 12/7/18, but we believe all listing will be in the writings section by 12/14/18), your writing in the writings section online will also have a link to this collection book, so people can find links to this collection book on your writing pages in the writings section of http://scars.tv (at http://scars.tv/cgi-bin/framesmain.pl?writers)...

    How to Order

    Links for ordering this collection book appears on all of the links above, and will also appear in the writings section too, so any of your writing in this collection book will also see a link to this collection book in the writings section too!

    https://www.amazon.com/dp/1677819243

    Currently these books are available from Amazon in the U.S. & Canada, the U.K., Europe, and even Japan. (The link above is for U.S. sales.)

    Check out the Scars Publication book link to see what material of yours appears in these collection books, and if you’d like, order a copy today (I hear they make great Christmas gifts), and again, thank you for being a part of the Scars Publications community!

    Scars Publications

    http://scars.tv

    the rest of my work available on Sars include

    April 30 In Search of America 1975 – Hitch hiking Tales

    Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen

    Fallen Dreams Litter the Ground

    My Name Is Nobody
    Snarling Cup of Coffee
    Strangeness in the Air
    Unhinged Lunatic Howling at the Full Moon

    April 30 In Search of America 1975 – Hitch hiking Tales

    hitchhikers
    hitchhikers

    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
    Take it easy
    Digging her vibe

    take it easy

    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
    ended in New York City

    Slept along the way
    In cars
    In truck stops

    In high way rest stops

    Always moving
    Always going
    Non 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

    Also available in Print

    This writing was accepted for publication

    flickering light SARS publication

    and in “Deep Woods”

    Order this writing that appears
    in the one-of-a-kind anthology
    The Flickering Light
    the Down in the Dirt Jan.-June 2019
    issues & chapbooks collection book

    (learn about this book, and order from Amazon online)get the 366 page
    Jan.-June 2019
    Down in the Dirt
    issue & chapbooks
    6″ x 9″ ISBN#
    paperback book:

    order ISBN# book

    Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen

    charles bukowski reading

    charles bukowski
    charles bukowski

    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.

    Also Available in Print

    Order this writing in the book
    Negative Space

    (the 2017 poetry, flash fiction
    & art collection anthology)

    natural light text
    natural light
    scars 2019 collection019 Scars Lit Calendar

    get the 298 page poem,
    flash fiction & art
    collection anthology
    as a 6″ x 9″ ISBN#
    paperback book:

    Unhinged Lunatic Howling at the Full Moon

    howling at the moon
    man howling at the man

    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

    This writing was accepted for publication
    in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book…
    Parallel Universe
    Down in the Dirt, v163
    (the March/April 2019 Issue)


    You can also order this 6″x9″ issue as a paperback book:
    order ISBN# book

    Snarling Cup of Coffee

    cup of coffee
    cup of coffee

    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

    Also Available in Print

    This writing was accepted for publication
    in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book…
    Parallel Universe
    Down in the Dirt, v163
    (the March/April 2019 Issue)


    You can also order this 6″x9″ issue as a paperback book:
    order ISBN# book

    Down in the Dirt

    Order this writing that appears
    in the one-of-a-kind anthology
    The Flickering Light
    the Down in the Dirt Jan.-June 2019
    issues & chapbooks collection book
    (learn about this book, and order from Amazon online)
    The Flickering Light (Down in the Dirt book) issue collection book get the 366 page
    Jan.-June 2019
    Down in the Dirt
    issue & chapbooks
    6″ x 9″ ISBN#
    paperback book:

    order ISBN# book

     

    Art House”…

     

        Enjoy the 2019 poetry & flash fiction (and select pieces of longer prose and artwork) collection anthology from Scars Publications, titled “Art House” of select poetry, flash fiction, prose & art in this one-of-a-kind annual 2019 anthology collection book, which contains select accepted writings chosen from 2019 issues of both cc&d magazine and Down in the Dirt magazine…

     

     

    Art House
    the Scars Publications 2019 poetry,
    flash fiction, prose & art collection anthology

    Order the 6″ x 9″
    paperback ISBN# book
    Available through Amazon:
    order ISBN# book

     

     

    Art House SCARS TV
    Art House SCARS TV

    Fallen Dreams Litter the Ground

    In the fall weather
    As I walk amid the falling leaves
    I see the signs everywhere

    Of the fall of America
    The once great and mighty Empire
    Everywhere signs of the fall appear

    The dark skies mirror
    The darkness that settled over our land

    Death, destruction and random acts of chaos
    Are all around us
    Surrounding us with visions of doom

    Nothing can stop the bloodletting
    No one seems to be in charge

    As the leaves fall
    And the darkness descends
    The fall of America continues

     

    My Name Is Nobody

    My Name is Nobody

    order ISBN# book

    Down in the Dirt

    My name, it is Nobody
    No one cares who I am
    I am just a nameless clone
    In the cold unfeeling bureaucracy

    Just one of the army
    Of civilians who flood into and out of the city
    Every day

    A non-entity,
    A ghost
    A govbot
    A cyber
    A spook
    A faceless automan
    A bureaucrat

    Just a grey suited cog in the machinery
    And no one cares
    No one knows who I really am

    And I am legend
    Everywhere and nowhere

    Just the way this modern world
    All shred of humanity
    Crushed beneath the cruel wheel of society

    In the cold harsh world
    There is no room anymore
    For true human feelings

    We are just robots, clones, machines
    And so I go to work
    Put on my mask

    And no one hears my inner screams
    And no one will ever care

    Also Available in Print

    This writing was accepted for publication
    in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book…
    My Name is nobody
    Down in the Dirt, v156
    (the April 2018 Issue)

    Order this writing
    in the issue book
    At Midnight
    the Down in the Dirt
    Jan.-Apr. 2018
    collection book
    At Midnight Down in the Dirt collectoin book get the 418 page
    Jan.-Apr. 2018
    Down in the Dirt
    issue anthology
    6″ x 9″ ISBN#
    paperback book:

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    Strangeness in the Air

     

    There is a strangeness in the air
    A sense of cosmic unease
    Hangs silently in the purple crystalline sky

    America woke up
    And decided it was time
    To quit following like lemmings
    Over the Clift

    As the pied piper chants
    Stay the course, stay the course
    We were like lemmings following him
    Dying to save his wounded pride

    Today there is that strange difference
    In the air
    As Americans woke up
    And threw off their chains of fear

    The End

     

  • poetry super highway free chapbook

    poetry super highway free chapbook

    Poetry Superhighway Free Ebook Contest

    poetry super highway link  

    thanks so much to the 48 people who downloaded my second chapbook.  I participated last year but fewer people took advantage of the download because i did not promote the contest enough. this year more people participated.  I will do this annually along with my annual April Poetry poem a thon and the NaNoWrMo contest.  Keep it up as long as I can.

    If you have not downloaded the poems they are available below.

    here’s the link to the downloads

    DOWNLOAD 38 POETRY E-BOOKS FOR FREE NOW!

    The 15th annual Poetry Super Highway E-book Free-For-All is on now. 38 e-books have been donated by poets from all over the world and they are now available to download for the next 24 hours for free. Click HERE to get your free e-fill.

    This is a limited time offer…the free download links will disappear tonight at midnight (pacific – the evening of December 1st) and we’ll post a new page shortly thereafter letting everyone know how many times each book was downloaded.

    So get to that e-book downloading now…it’s a free-for-all!

    Poetry Super Highway

     

    Please consider downloading my chapbook April Poem a Thon Poems on December 1, 2019 from the Poetry Super Highway site. I am again taking part in their annual free poetry chapbook contest. My book contains my 2019 April poems, the 2018 and 2017 poems along with audio and photos can be found on my web page https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com. and consider downloading all the other fine poets participating.

    LAST DAY to Join the Great E-Book Free-For-All!

    30 e-books have been sent in for the Poetry Super Highway’s 15th Annual Great E-Book Free-For-All so far! Join in! Send us your e-book TODAY by 10pm and we’ll add it to the pile of e-books which will be freely available to download by anyone on earth for 24 hours starting tonight at midnight! (pacific)…a free-for-all. The deadline to join with your ebook is TONIGHT, Saturday evening, November 30, at 10:00 pm (pacific).

    Feedspot has added my poetry blog to their list of 100 . Please take a look at the list of poetry blogs and sign up for as many as you can, and of course, if you have not yet signed up for my blog please do so now.

    feedspot link

    the 2019 chapbook follows below

    April Poem a Thon Poems

    In 2017, I participated in my first April Month of Poetry poetry challenge with Tiferet Journal, and copied to All Poetry, Poetry Soup and writing.com  posted all on my blog along with photos and audio links, in 2018 I again submitted poems through Tiferet Journal, but in 2019 just posted on All poetry, poetry soup and writing.com  and on my blog of course..

    Comments and feedback greatly appreciated.  I intent to make this an annual creative project and keep going as long as I can. 

    Due to size restrictions, I am only posting 2019 poems,  The 2017, 2018 and 2019 poems are available on my web page along with photos and audio. 

    April 2019 Poem a Thon

    Index

    63 Years Haut 

    A penitent Considers another Coming of Mary 

    Springtime in Seoul 

    today just for today

    Agnostic Dyslectic Wonders if There is a Dog

     It Can’t Happen Here or Has it? 

    So Excited to Be Alive at 63 all poetry

    Trump

    It’s a Dog’s Life 

    Scorpio Passion all poetry

    Just an Unhinged Werewolf Howling at the Moon 

    Glow  creative talent unleashed prompt 

    Old Lady and the Genie 

    Coffee Love Hate Affair

    Coffee Blues

    Morning Thoughts

    Santa James Came to Town

    Love Chinquapin 

    Nightmare butterfly chinquapin 

    Dedication to the Women I love

    The Art of Stealing Money, anatomy of a bank scam  

    Incheon Beach   waltz wave poem

    California Burning Bright

     Shaman Prays for Humanity  

     Catching the Trump Fever

    Releasing the Trump Monsters

    President Trump, International Fire Fighter in Chief

    Licenses 

    Darker Than You Think

    Berkeley Balanced 

     Springtime in Yeongjongdo 

    Four Haiku and One Tanka

    Life of an Exiled Poet Wandering the Mountains

    Walking Down the Snowing Path

    Here We Go Again

    NRA Stop Talking 

    2019 Poems

    note:   see 2019  poems page for audio and photos

    April 2019 Poems

    end note

     

    April 1, 63 Years Haut

    63 years old  

    taught me a few things 

    life is 

    to short

    to carry a grudge

    live and love a lot 

    April 1 A penitent Considers another Coming of Mary

    I sometimes wonder about the Virgin Mary

    I sometimes wonder about the Virgin Mary

    Wonder who she was and what she may

    Have had to do with the birth of the savior

    For I do not believe that story today

    or any day for that matter I can not  leave 

    these thoughts that hang in the air 

    thinking that she must have been with men

    and will be with them again

    April 1, Today Just for Today

    today just for today

    I plan to do nothing

    nothing at all

    just go with the flow

    of the day

    as the day turns into night

    and the night turns into sleep

    I will ride the wave 

    along with my love

    until the day is done

    April 2 Agnostic Dyslectic Wonders if There is a Dog

    an agnostic dyslectic

    stays up all night

    wondering if there is a dog

    the Buddhists wonder

    about the Buddha nature of the dog

    the evangelicals are sure that there is a dog

    and you must follow their dog

    or go to hell

    for following another’s dog

    the Muslims agree

    there is only one dog

    and the dogs

    smile at the foolishness

    of the human race

    of course, there is a dog

    and they are the master race

    as they growl at their owners

    who bow down

    and clean up their mess

    April 2 It Can’t Happen Here or Can It?

    Every day when I watch TV

    I see the chattering classes

    The TV pundits

    And their guests

    Pontificate about this and that 

    And it seems to me 

    That they are missing the big picture

    In the era of Donald Trump

    Nothing that they say

    Will make a difference

    Donald Trump has slowly conquered

    The political world

    And he is shaping it into something

    That we had hoped we would never see

    A truly American neo-fascist state

    Wrapped around the flag

    And so-called Christian values

    And the latest made up outrage 

    And the chattering classes

    Don’t seem to understand

    That they are next 

    On the hit parade

    As the Donald Trump machinery

    Continues to take over the known universe

    The question used to be

    It can’t happen here

    The answer I am afraid 

    Is already has 

    April 3 So Excited to Be Alive

    I wake up

    with the dawning sun

    so excited

    to be alive

    at age 63

    I look at my sleeping beauty

    and realize yet again

    my life began

    the day I met her

    37 years ago

    she walked off a bus

    out of my dreams

    and into my life

    and my life began

    that autumn day

    when I met 

    the girl of my dreams

    April 4th Trump

    Triumphed against all enemies

    Remaining unvanquished

    Uniting all who oppose him 

    Might makes right 

    Patriots unite behind the Great Leader 

    April 4th I Want a Dog’s Life

    I want a dog’s life 

    That’s what I want in next life

    A dog needs to be cute

    And his master will feed him 

    It is a dog’s life for me 

    April 4th Just an Unhinged Werewolf Howling at the Moon

    as the lunatic light of the blood red moon

    the super blue moon lights up the night

    the werewolf stirs

    as the light shines on him

    slowly transforming him

    into a dark dangerous creature 

    of the lunatic night

    ready for his flight

    out into the world, 

    he emerges

    snarling 

    howling at the moon 

    just another unhinged 

    werewolf

    out for blood today

    howling at the moon

    April 4th Scorpion Nights of Passion

    Born in October 

    Scorpion Passionate fool

    Always taking the lead 

    consumed with dark desires 

    is this Scorpio buddha nature

    consumed with dark desires 

    April 5th GLOW

    Glowing light of the dawning sun

     Lights up my dismal room 

     Overwhelming me with love 

     Watching my dream girl sleep  

    April 6th The Old Lady and the Genie

    An old Chinese woman

    Stands in a field 

    On the lunatic edge of town

    Where drinkers gather to drink

    And woman of ill repute

    Play their games

    With the passing drunks

    Men ready for a night of passion

    She is holding a tea pot

    And proclaims 

    That the pot contains 

    A genie

    That will grant the new owner

    Three wishes

    She had to sell the pot

    Because her wishes came true

    And she smiles

    And laughs insanely

    The laughter dies

    And she implores people

    To buy her tea pot

    And put her out of misery

    Just buy my pot

    And your dreams will come true

    Be careful dear thought

    Remember all magic

    Comes with a price

    A terrible price 

    April 6th Back of the Bus

    Many years ago

    When I was a foolish young man

    I took a greyhound bus trip

    Just to see the country

    I was trapped 

    In the back of the bus

    Where the young 

    And restless souls

    Gathered together

    And drank illegally

    And smoked weed 

    Also illegally

    We stayed there 

    Until Winnemucca

    Where I got off 

    And found my bus pass

    Had found another owner

    And I went to Salt Lake City

    Still trapped in the back of the bus

    April 6th The Messenger Dog of God

    One day

    While studying in Rome

    As a priest

    I notice a small white dog

    Staring at me

    He glances at me

    Indicating that I am to follow him

    I get up

    And follow this strange dog

    He leads me deep 

    Inside the hidden depths 

    Of the Vatican

    Finally stopping by a door

    I open the door

    And see St Peter there

    He smiles 

    Dismisses the dog

    Who moves on down the hall

    Finished with his cosmic duty

    As the secret messenger of God

    All in a days work 

    I ask why am I here?

    St Peter says

    Why are any of us here?

    It is time for you to go

    But I don’t want to go

    Don’t want to leave this mortal plane

    St Peter smiles

    Says it is time to go 

    I wake up

    Back in my bed

    With my wife

    And realize it was all a dream 

    It was not yet time

    To go

    But I am afraid

    I will find the messenger dog

    Outside my door

    Any day now

    The grim reaper waits

    And it will soon be my time

    April 6 Coffee Love Hate Affair

    I love coffee 

    Always have

    Always will

    But I have a love hate affair

    With coffee

    Love it when it gets me up

    Flying high in the sky

    As the sun comes over

    Filling with hope

    And anticipation

    As I conquer the day’s

    Daunting tasks

    With a little help

    From my drug of choice

    But coffee turns on me

    Late in the day

    And I can’t not sleep

    As the coffee burns

    In my soul

    And I toss and turn

    And sleep no more

    Coffee does that to me

    And so, I am reduced 

    To drinking decaf coffee

    Not the same thing at all

    But that is all I can handle

    As I am a coffee addict 

    And always will be 

    April 6 Coffee Blues

    Coffee is my drug of choice

    Always has been

    Ever since I first tried

    As a young lad

    Loved coffee’s power

    To speed up my synaptic nerves

    Turning me on

    Keeping me going and going and going

    But there is a dark side to everything

    And coffee is a drug

    And it will take you 

    Where it wants to go

    Enslaving you 

    Making you its victim

    As it toys with you

    Messes with you

    Prevents you from sleeping

    Coffee is a harsh mistress

    It demands respect

    As you fall under it seductive powers

    Slave again 

    To the drug of choice

    Just another over caffeinated

    Coffee addict

    Stumbling along the street

    Looking for a fix

    At six in the morning

    As the coffee wears off

    And you finally 

    Can get some sleep

    Until the alarm 

    Blasts you away

    And you reach out 

    Trembling for you fix

    Coffee you scream out

    I need coffee

    The universe laughs

    As you get your coffee high

    Just another pathetic coffee junkie

    When all is said and done

    April 7th Morning Thoughts

    Every morning I wake up

    And see the love of my life

    Sleeping soundly

    In our bed

    The sun fills my room

    And I get up

    To do my morning routine

    Just marveling at the sight

    And as I do my thing

    I am drawn back to bed

    Just to look 

    At this strange creature

    That captured my heart

    So many years ago

    And I wonder yet again

    At the mystery of our love

    How and why 

    Did the universe bring us together

    Where did she come from

    And why did she summoned me 

    I have no answers

    Our love transcended

    The barriers of time 

    And space

    And somehow 

    We found each other

    And will be together

    Until the death of time

    April 8  Lucky Numbers Blues 

    There are many gambler’s fallacies

    the statisticians say 

    each roll of the roulette table

    is an independent event

    Yet the gamblers believe

    that if for example

    there were ten red numbers

    in a row

    that the next one should be black

    right

    A statistician in the U,K.

    decided to prove

    that the gamblers

    were all delusional

    in insisting that there were patterns

    in the endless spin of the wheel

    and that it was more of a curve

    that the noise of random numbers 

    after thousands of spins

    recorded on a computer

    the pattern was clear

    there was a bell shape curve

    with an upswing 

    and a downswing to the data

    an early experiment 

    in chaos theory

    but with a practical application

    if you are on a winning curve

    keep going until the curve

    turns into a losing curve

    then walk away

    and you might be a winner

    according to science

    but they have yet 

    to be able to prove/disprove

     

    that lucky numbers exist 

    for you and me

    mine was always 32

    and when it pops

    I swore that my lucky number

    came up 

    just a fluke 

    according to science

    another iron clad rule

    the regression to the mean

    the curve may go up 

    and may go down 

    but in the end 

    it regresses to the mean 

    and that means

    the house always win

    Anatomy of a legal Bank Scam 

    Not too long ago

    One trusted the banks

    And the government

     

    With your money,

    your stocks

    Your investments

    Your financial life

     

    Then the states discovered

    That if you claim

    Because you did not look at your account

    Or perform an activity

     

    They can send it to the State

    Where it goes

    into the lost property division

    And the State can sell your assets

     

    The banks are required to notify you

    they never send you a letter

    They falsely claim

    They don’t have your address

     

    Yet three months

    before they had sent you a statement

    which did not bounce

     

    so you received it

    three months later

    without your knowledge or permission,

     

    the bank declares

    your property has been abandoned

    violating their own rules

    they have to wait three years

    of no “activity”

     

    but they send it in after 15 months

    why ?

    because they can

     

    because you are nothing to them

    but small cash they can steel

    Then the State sends you

    An official-looking letter

    That screams fraud

    You call the Bank Fraud’s office

     

    They claim

    It was a bogus letter

    Your account is just fine

    And you do nothing

     

    Until the banks confirm

    Oh yes we sent your funds

    To the state

    As per our strict rules

     

    They did nothing wrong

    You see

    Did not know how to contact you

    They falsely claim

     

    The state tells you file

    A claim

    and because the amount is relatively small

    no lawyer will help you

     

    and the banks

    will laugh at you

    for trusting them

    to do the right thing

     

    the true bank robbers

    are the banks

    and the crooked states

    working in cahoots

     

    who love to steal

    your money

    because well they can

    and they  just did

     

    caveat emptor

    my friends

    the banks are not your friend

    they will rip you off

     

    with endless nonsensical fees

    and rules

    and red tape

    and blame you for complaining

     

    eventually, you may recover

    your funds

    After a long fight

    perhaps not

     

    welcome to American banking world

    where financial crime

    is not a crime

    in the land of the no longer free

     

    Jake Aller

    one of your millions of customers

    you screwed over

    Ugh

    April 9 Love Chinquapin

    My Love

    Haunting my dreams

    Nightly talking to me 

    Then walked out of the dreams into 

    my Life

    April 10th Nightmare Butterfly Chinquapin

    Night mares

    Endless fears all night long

    Huge Monsters chasing me

    Hideous Creatures from Hell Itself

    Monsters

    Fiendish Hell hounds escaped Banishes

    screaming bloody murder

    they chase me all the way

    I die

    April 10  Nightmare Chinquapin

    Night mares 

    Endless fears all night long 

    Can’t escape running from these dreams

    All night  

    April 11 Dedication Poem to the women in my Dreams

    Dedicated to the woman of my Dreams

    women

    lives in my dreams

    I dedicate this poem

    You came out of my nightly dreams 

    My Love

    My Love

    I dreamt of you 

    For eight long years starting 

    Dream of you in 79 met in

    82

    82

    We met in that year

    Love at first sight I knew

    You were the one for me my dream girl

    My Love

    The Art of Stealing Money –Anatomy of a Bank Scam

    The bankers 

    God rest their evil souls

    Have mastered the art

    Of stealing 

    Their client’s money

    Through one means or another

    Your money

    Is their money

    And their money 

    Is none of your business

    Recently we fell victim 

    To such a scam

    We had stocks in a bank

    But we failed 

    To actively manage the account

    And the bank said 

    Because we had not acted

    On the account 

    Over three years 

    We had abandoned the account

    We fell victim 

    to such a scam 

    The bank 

    was supposed to

    To contact us

    But they lied, 

    claimed

    That they did not know

    Where we were

    And could not contact us

    Thus, our account 

    disappeared 

    Into the hands 

    Of the greedy 

    State of Delaware

    We have to reclaim

    The money

    That the bank

    Through their mistake

    Sent to Delaware

    If the bank 

    makes a mistake

    You loose

    If you make a mistake

    They win

    That’s all part of the art

    Of stealing your money

    All in a day’s work

    For the evil soul sucking bankers

    The so called masters of the universe

    Incheon Beach Waltz Wave Poem 

    beach

    near home

    now

    sun set

    The West Sea

    Incheon

    sea

    Spring Time

    night sun set

    over the sea 

    Sun goes down 

    near by 

    beach

    water 

    waves come in

    over beach

    view 

    is great

    nice

    California Burning Bright

    California

    burning bright wildfires
    end of the world
    an apocalyptic
    a vision of world’s end

    April 15, 2019  Prayers for the Future of the Planet 

    A shaman priestess

    Is deep in thought 

    Engaged in Meditation 

    on the fate 

    Of the earth 

    She is deep in the cosmic woods

    In the world between worlds

    Where she is communing

    With the spirits of the universe

    Who listen to her tale of woe

    She tells them 

    Of the rise of the neo fascists

    And the refusal to address

    The possible end of the world

    Due to run away climate change

    She prays and prays

    And finally

    She receives an answer

    More a prediction

    It is all up to humans 

    She has two visions

    Of a possible future

    Two contrasting visions

    One a dystopian nightmare

    The other an optimistic vision 

    The first 

    The neo fascists

    Seize control

    And usher in a dystopian nightmare

    That ends with utter destruction

    Nuclear war

    Nuclear winter

    Ends climate change

    As civilization ends

    And mankind retreat to caves

    And it happens

    In a blink of an eye

    In less than five years

    The world will end 

    Game over civilization ends 

    The second vision

    The optimistic vision

    Humanity wakes up

    From their collective night mare

    Throws off the neo-fascist cabal

    And begin to change the world

    Making the economy works 

    For all of us

    Not just the corrupt 1 percent

    The so-called masters of the Universe

    They are overthrown

    In a people’s power revolution

    All over the world

    People wake up

    Demand change

    And slowly the world

    Begins to recover

    And overcome 

    The dark hours

    Of the present age

    The shaman priestess

    Returns home

    To spread the word

    It up to us

    To choose our fate

    The end is indeed near

    It is darker than you think

    But it is not over yet

    If we choose the path

    Of the cosmic light

    And overthrow

    The neo fascist cabal

    And restore democracy

    And peace will break out

    And all will end well

    If not

    Well she says

    You have been warned

    The universe has spoken

    So, mote it be

    April 16, 2019

    Why do all fake Natives call themselves “Cherokees”?

    Erasure Poem 

    So many fake Indians these days

    Elizabeth Warren is one

    And according to my DNA results

    I am too

    But my grand-parents spoke Cherokee my mom claims

    And they disappeared into the hills 

    She claims

    Is the DNA test wrong?

    Was I adopted ?

    Or is it possible

    That I am a real deal

    A real Cherokee

    Or am I fake Cherokee???

    A Cherokee weighed in on this on Quora

    First, I would never call them “fake Natives”. 

    They are 99% white,

     mostly Blue-collar, and New Age Hippie,

     Anglo-Americans 

    who are simply 

    lost without their own specific identity 

    that they can proudly Claim, 

    so therefore,

     they search for a certain Popular,

     Romanticized segment of Indigenous People 

    that will “fit” 

    into their Family’s historical Lore.

    Second, it just happens to ALWAYS be … 

    the Cherokee … 

    sometimes, 

    either Blackfoot or Lakota.

    AND, “My GGM was a Cherokee Princess”,

     as an add-on VALUE.

    This is primarily

     because of the vast area 

    formerly inhabited by the Cherokee.

     However, the tribes’ interaction 

    with European immigrants since colonial times, 

    led to a great deal of intermarriage 

    with non-indigenous populations.

    In many cases people have limited knowledge 

    of the other Native American nations, 

    that inhabited the areas in which they live. 

    However, a lot of this is wishful thinking, 

    and these people have African American 

    or other non-European ancestry.

    It is fashionable to claim indigenous ancestry , 

    in an attempt to legitimize t

    Their sense of belonging on our lands.

    The reason is simple,

     they don’t know the names of the other tribes.

    There has never been a song called 

    “Indian Reservation” about Apache People

     or any other tribe but, the Cherokee.

    “Indian Reservation” 

    by Paul Revere and the Raiders.

    So if those people aren’t Cherokee 

    by blood at least it’s in spirit.

    And so I conclude

    I may be part Cherokee

    Part of the lost tribe

    Of the Cherokee

    But who really knows 

    My mother took many things

    With her to the grave

    Lots of family secrets

    Things I will never know

    But in my heart

    I know

    That I am part Cherokee

    And so I will proudly 

    Claim I am part Cherokee

    In spirt 

    If not in blood

    Catching the Trump Madness

    It seems that every day

    The trump madness deepens

    As our leader descends 

    Into dementia and madness

    And his followers continue 

    To follow having drunk the Kool aide

    They don’t see the madness 

    That Trump has engendered

    They are immune from all criticism

    It is all fake news to them

    Nothing but nonsense

    Part of the anti-Trump cabal

    And as the world descends 

    Into more madness

    Led by the mad king 

    I despair

    Wondering if and when

    The world will wake up

    And shake off this madness

    This trump fever

    Releasing the Trump Monsters

    The Trump madness deepens

    And the world grows darker

    The evil ones have been released

    The wild things are growling

    The dogs of war

    Satan’s hell hounds

    Are on the loose

    Howling at the moon

    Running amuck

    Infecting us all

    With their madness

    As we all turn into mindless zombies

    Filled with hatred

    Jealousy and insanity

    As Trump and his neo-fascist

    Cabal unleash the monsters

    Of their dangerous id

    Devouring all reason

    Turning all they see

    Into raving lunatics

    As they set the world on fire

    Ushering in the ends of days

    Armageddon looms

    Will Trump be raptured away?

    Only God knows

    And he is not telling

    As we descend 

    Into the maelstrom 

    Hoping against hope

    That we can overcome

    The monsters 

    That Trump has unleashed

    In the end 

    Perhaps it does not matter

    As the world careens

    Deeper into hell

    There is no end 

    Nothing but despair

    Forever and ever

    The Trump madness never ends

    President Trump International Fire Fighter in Chief?

    Our dear leader

    Our favorite President

    President Trump

    Once again

    Interjected himself

    Into areas that he knows nothing about

    Making a fool of himself 

    In the process

    Why does he do this?

    Time after time

    Talking nonsense

    It is because

    He is the smartest man

    In the universe

    Knows more than anyone else

    And so he feels

    He has to comment

    On everything

    Under the sun

    And then some more

    Even when he 

    Does not know 

    What he is talking about

    So painful to watch such a fool

    Mark Twain had sage advice

    If you want people to think 

    You are a fool

    Open your mouth 

    and remove all doubt

    In the midst 

    Of the devastating Paris Norte Dame Fire

    He tweeted 

    “So horrible to watch the massive fire 

    at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris,”

    “Perhaps flying water tankers 

    could be used to put it out. 

    Must act quickly!”

    Later, Mr. Obvious noted, 

    They’re having a terrible, 

    terrible fire,” 

    Mr Trump later told reporters. 

    “It looks like it’s burning to the ground.”

    The French were not amused

    By the unwanted advice

    By the fire fighter in chief 

    France’s civil defense agency, 

    Sécurité Civile, tweeted — 

    once in French 

    and once in English 

    — less than two hours after Mr Trump 

    sent his tweet 

    and appeared 

    to directly respond to the US president.

    “Helicopter or aeroplane, 

    the weight of the water 

    and the intensity of the drop 

    at low altitude 

    could indeed weaken 

    the structure of Notre Dame 

    and result in collateral damage 

    to the buildings in the vicinity,” 

    the agency wrote in French.

    And despite never posting updates in English, 

    the agency then sent out a second tweet.

    Hundreds of firemen of the Paris Fire Brigade are doing everything they can to bring the terrible #NotreDame fire under control. All means are being used, except for water-bombing aircrafts which, if used, could lead to the collapse of the entire structure of the cathedral.

    — Sécurité Civile Fr (@SecCivileFrance) April 15, 2019

    And the French provided

    This helpful advice 

    To the Fire Fighter in chief

    When California burned 

    you did not seem to be a fire expert.

     Please, shut up. 

    It is a tragic moment 

    for the cultural heritage of humanity.

    Licenses

    Bankers have a license to steal

    money from their clients 

    if you make a mistake

    the bank can steal your money

    as part of their banking license

    Governments have a license

    to steal money from the public

    its is called taxation

    or confiscation 

    It seems that police these days

    have a license 

    to kill unarmed brown people

    but only brown people

    and the president 

    has a license to lie

    as he lies all the time

    just because he can

    and I have the ultimate license

    the poetic license

    to write these verses

    to enlighten the masses

    Balanced in Berkeley

    Born in Berkeley, California

    a product of the wild 70’s

    just a lost white brother 

    hanging about 

    downtown 

    brothers

    can you hang about  

    listen to me  lover

    wildness left from the 60’des 

    want to fly away from California  

    brothers

    leave the 60’s

    ride away my lover 

    can you dig that without a doubt

    born in Berkeley, California 

    It is Darker Than You Think

    It is darker than you think

    an old hag

    an old witch
    strictly old school
    is talking to young people

    She tells them
    that it is darker
    than they think
    the end times approach

    She proclaims
    she sees the world ending
    and is warning them
    of what is to come

    She is following
    the dark master
    of the universe
    waiting for the end

    and she is afraid
    she sees the world
    the end of things
    the end of life

    She is afraid
    she tells her students
    to boldly face
    the coming end

    Spring Time Sketch in Youngjongdo, Korea

    In the early morning dawn

    I like to go for a walk

    Down among the cherry trees

    And flowering plants

    Just to welcome

    Another fine spring day

    As the sun comes up

    Dispelling my dismal mood

    And filling me 

    With love

    Hope and peace

    As I walk the path

    Of the world peace forest

    Near my island home

    Near the chaos of the airport

    Through the forest

    and over the mountain

    breathing the spring time air

    alive filled with life

    and I think to myself

    this moment 

    is the moment

    that I am meant to experience

    life itself

    and nothing more

    nothing less

    Just breath in life 

    Four Haiku

    walking on the path
    in the world peace forest
    snowing cherry trees

    the world at peace
    walking with love of my life
    all is right with me

    the falling cherry trees
    along the path of the forest
    reminds us of love

    endless noise on TV
    quiet on the path outside
    peace in my soul

    Dangerous Times Tanka

    in dangerous times
    we retreat to our corners
    convinced we are right
    everyone else is evil
    everyone else must die

    Hidden Jewels in Seoul

    In Seoul

    A vibrant thriving city

    Of a million stories

    Of a million tales 

    There are hidden jewels

    All around the city

     

    The city is laced 

    With secret mountain paths

    Only the locals know 

     

    Where these paths go

    As the mountain paths

    Criss cross the city

     

    Every neighborhood

    Has their mountain

     

    At the top

    Lies the exercise equipment

    And old men and woman

     

    Perhaps the guardian angels

    Of the mountain

     

    Mountain spirits 

    Stand guard 

    At the top of the mountain

     

    Looking down 

    At the teaming masses

     

    Old men and woman

    Walk about 

    In the trails

     

    High in the mountains

    The city is also laced

    With canals and stream beds

     

    Everywhere you wander

    You are not far from water ways

     

    The secret trails cover the city

    Yet the city does not seem 

    To know how to promote

     

    These wondrous trails

    Yes, the city of Seoul

    Is filled with hidden treasures

    Hidden gems

    Deep in the mountains 

     

    As I walk in the hills

    Lost in thought

     

    The cherry trees 

    Snowing all around

     

    I reflect again

    On the hidden gems

    The hidden trails

    The hidden treasure of Seoul 

    Life of an Exiled Poet Wandering the Mountains

    I am living a lonely life

    Exiled from my home land

    A stranger in a strange land 

    Far from where I grew up 

    Searching for what I lost 

    Just an exiled poet

    Wandering the mountains

    Deep in thought

    Wondering what 

    Adventures wait me 

    As I wander the mountain paths

    Wandering here and there 

    Just searching for my lost life

    Wondering where my life 

    Has gone so terribly wrong 

    And why I am on this path 

    I see on the mountain path

    A secret climbing cave

    And I enter the cave

    Hoping to find

    A portal 

    Back to my lost world

    To my lost time

    To the beginning

    Of my journal

    The beginning

    Of my long exile 

    But I can’t find 

    My way back

    And am soon lost 

    And so I become

    A ghost like figure

    A lost soul of the damn

    Doomed to wander 

    The world 

    Wandering the mountains

    Lost in dark thoughts 

    Forever exiled

    From my love 

    Walking Down the Frozen White Path

    walking down the frozen white path

    as the evening starts to falls 

    as I walk in the snow and talk

    listening to the bird calls

    filling the air with the music of Bach 

    I find myself getting lost 

    as I continue my lonely walk

    death waits heading to the end of time 

    As I walk the snowing cold path

    the dark evil evening continues to fall

    the very stars are on the war path

    lightening the up air as they fall 

    littering the ground with their cosmic sprawl

    as the dying sun sets into the dark night 

    I come upon an ancient ruined wall 

    No one around as the end time approaches 

    I continue my lonely dismal walk 

    Rushing towards the end of time

    no more time for mere talk 

    death waits heading to the end of time

    Here We Go Again

    In a few short months
    The political silly season
    Will be upon us

    As the nation
    And world
    Prepares to choose

    The next leader
    Of these disunited States
    Of America

    Will the people
    Wake up
    And toss

    The boy child president
    Out on his proverbial butt?

    Will sanity prevail
    And reason return
    To the body politic?

    One can only hope
    But I fear
    That the Trumpmeister

    And the dark shadow figures
    Behind him

    Have many cards
    Up their proverbial sleeves

    And they know
    That the game is rigged
    They know how it is played
    And they know

    Where the bodies are buried
    For they buried the bodies

    And are prepared
    To do
    Whatever it takes

    To ensure
    Their buddy

    Their clown show
    Enabler

    Will be reelected
    So that they can continue
    To rape, and pillage
    The earth

    Making gazzilions
    Of dollars
    As the world burns
    And civilization grinds
    To a halt

    They will find a way
    To escape
    They are the ultimate survivors
    After all

    And they never
    Get voted off the island
    Because they own the island
    The TV station
    And everyone’s soul

    And so, here we go again
    And again

    Until the end of time itself
    A constant battle

    Against the dark evil forces
    Conspiring against common good

    To them
    We are just cogs
    In the machinery
    Mere inputs

    They don’t care
    About you or me
    All they care about
    Is how much they
    Money they can make
    Off of you

    Strap in
    Here we go again
    The ride will get bumpy
    Before it is all over

    NRA Please Stop Talking

    Another day
    Another mass shooting
    Another incident
    of domestic terrorism

    another gun man
    killing people
    because just because

    The NRA
    And their stooges
    Come out

    Flood the airways
    With their noxious
    Poisionous weasel words

    The NRA says
    Mass shootings
    Are like the weather

    You can’t control them
    You can’t predict them
    And you can’t prevent them
    Just have to accept it
    It is all god’s will

    Guns don’t kill people
    If guns were outlawed
    Only outlaws
    Would have guns

    Only solution
    Is more guns
    For everyone

    An armed society they say
    Is a polite society

    Support for gun control
    Is socialist/communist/fascist/anti-American/anti-Christian nonsense
    The beginning of tyranny

    If only the Jews had guns
    The holocaust would not have happened

    Jesus would want us all to be armed
    with machine guns
    To protect us against the evil doers

    It is the Christian thing to do
    To blow away evil doers
    With heavy arms

    In America
    Land of the free
    Home of the brave

    We can’t do anything
    At all
    About the mass carnage

    Unleashed by madmen with guns
    Who walk among us
    Searching for their next victims

    Any restriction of the right
    To bear arms
    Is tyranny at its worst
    The nanny state run amuck

    Talking about gun control
    After a tragic event
    Is just not the appropriate time

    We need prayers
    And meaningless thoughts

    Universal background checks
    Too onerous

    Registering guns
    Too burdensome

    Researching gun violence
    waste of tax payer money

    banning military style assault weapons
    restricts my right to blow
    away Bambi the deer with a M16

    in the end
    the NRA will keep talking
    talking and talking

    preventing anything
    from being done

    and we will have another
    Mass shooting event
    Before the day is out

    So my plead
    This day

    To the NRA
    And their stooges

    Talk is cheap
    Your comments
    Are not helping

    If you can’t
    Be a part of the solution
    Just stop talking
    Please stop talking

    And let the rest
    Of us
    Figure out

    How to stop
    The madness in the streets
    And stop the carnage

    So NRA

    Please
    just
    stop
    talking
    Now

    The End

    April 2017 Poem A Thon  – available on my web page only, with audio and photo clips

    2017 April Poems

    Index

    1. April 1 Berkeley California
    2. April 2 Lithia Springs
    3. April 3 Walls
    4. April 4 Changes
    5. April 5 Facing Life’s Challenges Together
    6. April 6 Wagon tire, Oregon 
    7. April 7 Watching Cats Hunt
    8. April 8 Landlord Blues
    9. April 9 Pane e circus 2017 Redux
    10. April 10 Long Live Emperor Donald the Ist
    11. April 11 3 Am Nightmares
    12. April 12 Zombie Apocalypse
    13. April 13 Spring Doositsu for Angela Poem a Thon
    14. April 14 Love Jones
    15. April 15 Kim Vs. Trump Twitter War 
    16. April 16 Why I am not a Christian Easter Thoughts
    17. April 17 Love Haiku 
    18. April 18 Coffee Haiku
    19. 18 Spring Time in Oregon 
    20. April 19 Cats 
    21. April 20 Secret Agency Man 
    22. April 21 COSTCO People Watching
    23. April 22 The Dogs of War are Howling
    24. April 23 Suburban Laundromat 
    25. April 24, I Want You Right Now
    26. April 25 The Decline of America
    27. April 27 Life is Wonderful 
    28. April 28 Sandwich Choices
    29. April 29 More Coffee Blues
    30. April 30 Rambling Man -Where Do I Belong?

    April 2018 Poem a Thon  – available on web page with audio and photo clips

    April 2018 Poems

    Index

    April 01  Thank God For Angela 

    April 02, 2018  Angela Haiku 

    April 03, 2018  2007 How Much I Despise You 

    April 03 Trump’s Wall Against Reason 

    April 04  It Has been Done Before 

    April 05  Walls Divide Us  

    April 06 Mr. Trump Tear Down this Wall 

    April 07   Angela Lee  

    April 08  Trump

    April 09 Trump 

    April 10 Haiku

    April 11 Hiking in the Spring time Snow 

    April 12  Learning I am Part Jewish 

    April 13 There is Nothing More to be Said

    April 14  Hiking the Hills of My Youth Hanibun 

    April 15 Living with Pain Hanibun

    April 16  Five Signs of the Apocalypse 

    April 17  Emperor Surveys the Eastern Sea 

    April 18  The General Unleashes the Kraken 

    April 19  Plead to the Computer Gods 

    April 20  Number of the Beast  

    April 21  The Neo-Fascists are Let loose 

    April 22  Life In Between 

    April 23  the Light Will Prevail April 

    April 24 April 19   Samonka for Angela 

    April 25  62 Years Young 

    April 26  Married Girl of My Dreams  

    April 27  The Darkness Grows  

    April 28 It was God’s Will They Say 

    April 29  Looking Out My Window 

    April 30 In Search of America – Hitching the USA in 1975 

    April 01  Thank God For Angela

    the end

  • Poetry Soup Poems 2016-2019

    Poetry Soup Poems 2016-2019

     

    Cosmos’s Poetry Soup Poems 2016-2019

    these poems were published on Poetry Soup from 2016 to now, covering a wide range of  topics and are my favorite and best poems.  I will post my All Poetry poems soon. Stay tuned for that, my friends.

    poetry soup link

    cosmic Haiku and other short poems

    Guns KIll People

    2017 April Poems

    April 2018 Poems

    April 2019 Poems

    Vietnam Poems

    first up are my recent gun poems followed by my other poems in roughly the order I posted them.  There were some duplicates removed as well.  See the poetry soup site for complete list of  the poems.

    If you don’t like them so be it. But I hope that you will consider them and think about what can we do as an nation to reduce the carnage on the streets.  Prayers and thoughts are not enough. Gun violence is not like the weather, ie. Something we can’t control. We can and must do something to combat this problem. 

    That’s my two cents worth and I am sticking to my guns (pun very much intended)

    here then are my gun poems

    index

    Another Day Another Shooting

    Mr. President Words Matter

    Chief of Staff, You are Absurd

    Guns Kill People

    NRA Please Stop Talking

    More Guns for Everyone in the World

    Virginia Beach Massacre Never Again Ever

    It’s a Gun Situation, Mr. President

    Prayer Works

    I don’t Get It

     

    Another Day Another Shooting

    pastedGraphic.png

    another day in paradise
    just another day in America
    land of the free
    Home of the brave

    and guns
    lots of guns
    more guns for all
    cries the NRA

    yes another day
    another gun battle
    another white man
    who just wants to kill

    the President sends his condolences
    Thanks the law enforcement
    for an incredible job well done
    It was horrible

    Hate has no place
    in our country
    and we will take of it
    and do what ever we can do

    condolences
    nothing but false words
    empty words
    lots of things to do

    it is mental illness problem
    but he fails to mention
    the words gun at all
    not at all

    and tomorrow and tomorrow
    but he at least finally said
    hate has no role in country
    nothing but prime BS
    in my humble opinion

    he did not mention
    white supremacy
    his rhetoric had nothing
    nothing to do about this at all

    and so tomorrow
    I will turn on the TV
    and we see
    nothing at all

    and the dead
    will remain dead
    the guns will fire again
    nothing will be done

    welcome to America
    land of the free
    home of the brave

    Mr. President Words Matter

    pastedGraphic_1.png

     

    Mr President
    Words matter
    your words matter

    your words of hate
    your words of division

    your words
    calling fellow human beings
    scum, vermit, faith
    invaders, animals
    matter

    they matter a lot
    and is it little wonder
    that people listen
    to the hate you sprew forth

    and some deranged people
    take action
    on your call
    for action

    against the invaders
    on the border
    they march to the border
    to kill the invaders

    your words matter
    Mr. President
    and your false words
    of regret

    fool no one
    the damage has been done
    the hate has been spread
    just as you intended

    and you
    have the gall
    to call yourself
    A Christian

    you are the anti-Christ
    you are not a Christian
    so please quite pretending
    to be what you are not

    please man up
    accept your responsibility
    set things right
    apologize

    the dead though
    don’t need your prayers
    they need action
    they need leadership

    and you are the president
    so please start acting
    like you give a damn

    and if you do so
    perhaps
    you will find
    people will follow you

    but please
    quite the words
    of hate
    the words that hurt

    and quit calling immigrants
    invaders and vermin
    they are human beings
    they are deserving of respect

    this I ask of you
    In Jesus’s name
    even though I am not a Christian
    please Donald Trump group

    and become the president
    of the people
    and end the war of words
    and constant hate

    Chief of Staff, You are Absurd

    pastedGraphic_2.png

    the President’s chief of staff
    said the other day
    it was absurd
    to suggest that the president’s words
    had anything to do
    with recent mass shootings

    yet is it absurd
    to see the lengths
    to which the President’s supporters
    will twist and turn
    spinning away
    the inconvenient truth

    President Trump
    is a racist bigot con man
    who somehow
    conned his way
    to become President

    he call immigrants
    criminals, vermin, animals
    invaders
    infesting the country

    the El Paseo shooter
    said that he went to the border
    to shoot the invaders
    and said
    that he was a big Trump fan

    it is not absurd
    to connect these two huge dots
    the President’s words
    has real world consequences

    Yes Mr. Trump is a racist pig
    and his supporters
    are being absurd
    to suggest otherwise

    Guns Kill People

    pastedGraphic_3.png

    Guns
    guns kill people
    guns do kill people

    it is not mental illness
    it is not video games
    it is not a million other things

    it is simply this
    a gun is a weapon
    a weapon designed to kill people
    that is what guns do

    guns don’t care
    they do as they are told
    if you pull the trigger
    they will kill the victim

    that is what guns do
    that is why
    in a civilized society
    military assault weapons
    are locked up

    yet in America
    the land of the free
    home of the brave
    everyone and his cousin
    must have their gun

    guns for everyone
    cries the NRA
    that’s the solution

    The president
    and his supporters
    deny the obvious

    guns kill people
    that’s all they do
    it is a gun thing
    you would not understand

    so Mr. President
    you can take your words
    your empty platitudes
    your empty promises

    straight to hell
    and back

    where with any luck
    Satan will use you
    as target practice

    NRA Please Stop Talking

    pastedGraphic_4.png

    Another day

    Another mass shooting
    Another incident

    of domestic terrorism
    another gun man

    killing people

    because just because
    The NRA
    And their stooges
    Come out
    Flood the airways

    With their noxious

    Poisonous weasel words
    The NRA says

    Mass shootings
    Are like the weather
    You can’t control them

    You can’t predict them
    And you can’t prevent them

    Just have to accept
    It is all god’s will
    Guns don’t kill people

    IF guns were outlawed
    Only outlaws
    Would have guns

    Only solution
    Is more guns
    For everyone
    An armed society

    they say
    Is a polite society
    Support for gun control
    Is

    socialist/communist/fascist/anti-American/anti-Christian nonsense

    The beginning of tyranny
    If only the Jews had guns
    The holocaust would not have happened

    Jesus would want us all
    to be armed
    with machine guns

    To protect us against the evil doers
    It is the Christian thing to do
    To blow away evil doers

    With heavy arms
    In America

    Land of the free
    Home of the brave

    We can’t do anything
    At all

    About the mass carnage
    Unleashed by madmen with guns
    Who walk among us
    Searching for their next victims

    Any restriction of the right
    To bear arms
    Is tyranny at its worst

    The nanny state run amuck
    Talking about gun control
    After a tragic event
    Is

    just not the appropriate time
    We only need prayers
    and meaningless thoughts

    Universal background checks
    Too onerous

    Registering guns
    Too burdensome

    Researching gun violence
    waste of tax payer money

    banning military style assault weapons
    restricts my right to blow
    away
    Bambi the deer
    with a M16

    the NRA will keep talking
    talking and talking
    preventing anything
    from being done

    and we will have another
    Mass shooting event
    Before the day is out

    So my plead
    This day

    To the NRA

    and their stoogies

    Talk is cheap
    Your comments
    Are not helping

    If you can’t
    Be a part of the solution

    Just stop talking
    Please stop talking
    And let the rest

    Of us  figure out
    How to stop
    The madness in the streets

    And stop the carnage
    So NRA
    Please
     just
     stop
     talking
     Now

    More Guns for Everyone in the World

    pastedGraphic_5.png

    The NRA has decided
    That the best solution to global problem
    Of rampant violence and crime everywhere

    Is for the rest of the world
    To become like the U.S.
    Where anyone can buy a gun
    As an armed society is a polite society’

    And so the President is about to announce
    A global campaign against gun control restrictions
    As these restrictions are an undue burden
    On the rights of the US arms manufactures

    To sell their guns everywhere in the world
    As everyone wants what we have to sell
    The best weapons in the world

    Instead of trying to limit the damage
    That unrestricted gun sales
    Have done to the U.S.

    Our President, our great leader
    Wants to sell more guns
    Everywhere in the world

    And there are eager buyers
    Lining up around the world
    Eager to buy the best guns
    The world has ever seen

    We want to export
    The gun madness
    That has infected our society
    Leaving behind so many dead bodies

    The dead were not consulted
    For they remain dead
    They do not vote
    They have no voice

    For the guns silenced
    them for good
    just as the guns intended
    Just doing their gun thing after all

    Humanity has evolved
    From stones to arrows
    To guns
    To nuclear, biological weapons

    And the U.S.
    While proclaiming itself
    A champion of Human Rights

    Remains nothing but a country
    Of gun runners
    Merchants of death
    And destruction

    Trump Administration Advances Plan to Relax Gun-Export Rules found Poem

    The Trump administration 

    Sought to relax export rules for American small arms,

     including semiautomatic rifles, handguns, and sniper rifles.

    Because the NRA said 

    the solution to gun violence

    aIs more guns

     for everyone in the world

    Everyone should be able

     to buy American made weapons

    The best in the world after all

    And everyone in the world 

    needs what the US 

    Wants to sell

    The shift,

     is championed by gunmakers

     who say it

     will make them more competitive 

    in the international market. 

    Critics argue 

    an export policy 

    that favors commercial interests

     could put the national security

     of the United States at risk 

    or harm diplomatic efforts.

     “This decision is also politically tone-deaf 

    as our nation reckons 

    with a gun violence epidemic.”

    A State Department spokesman 

    said that the change

     would ease the regulatory burden 

    on American gun makers

     and allow them to compete better globally.

    Currently, the Department of State 

    monitors exports of nearly all weapons 

    .

    “The world of firearms exports 

    is full of questionable, dubious characters.”

    the Department of Justice

     and Department of Homeland Security

     criticized the change 

    because it could make it

     easier for transnational criminal organizations

     or terrorists to get American-made guns.

    But the NRA

    They don’t care

    More guns for all

    Is the solution to all gun violence

    And sadly,  our President 

    Has sold his soul

    To the NRA

    Who offered him 

    Millions of dollars

    In blood money

    more guns for everyone

    based on following article

    The Trump administration on Monday advanced a long-sought-after plan to relax export rules for American s

    mall arms, including semiautomatic rifles, handguns, and sniper rifles.
    In a private briefing with members of Congress, State Department officials outlined a proposed rule change that would transfer oversight of gun exports to the Department of Commerce. The proposed rule will be published in the Federal Register later this week, where it will be subject to public comment for 45 days. While it is unlikely, Congress could block the change using powers under the Congressional Review Act.

    The shift, which was first proposed by the Obama administration in 2012, is championed by gunmakers who say it will make them more competitive in the international market. Critics argue an export policy that favors commercial interests could put the national security of the United States at risk or harm diplomatic efforts.

    “Weakened Congressional oversight of international small arms and munitions sales is extremely hazardous to global security,” said Senator Ben Cardin of Maryland, a Democrat who serves on the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, in an emailed statement. “This decision is also politically tone-deaf as our nation reckons with a gun violence epidemic.”
    A State Department spokesman said that the change would ease the regulatory burden on American gun makers and allow them to compete better globally.

    Currently, the Department of State monitors exports of nearly all weapons through the U.S. Munitions List. Since 2002, the department has been required to notify Congress of overseas sales of firearms worth more than $1 million.

    In 2016, the State Department alerted the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to a proposed sale of more than 26,000 rifles to the Philippines. Cardin at the time objected to arming the regime of PhilippinePresident Rodrigo Duterte, who had inaugurated a wave of thousands of extrajudicial killings as part of a crackdown on drugs. The weapons deal was canceled as a result.

    The proposed rule change would transfer control over the sale of small arms to the Commerce Control List, and Congress would no longer be notified of large purchases.
    Some arms control experts say reduced oversight could provide criminals, terrorists, or hostile states an opportunity to purchase American weapons.
    Under Department of Commerce weapon-export rules, “companies aren’t required to provide as much information about brokers or shipping” as they must under State Department supervision, said Colby Goodman, who examines American weapons exports as director of the Security Assistance Monitor program at the Center for International Policy in Washington. “The world of firearms exports is full of questionable, dubious characters.”

    The rule change has been long in the making. It was first proposed in 2012 by the Obama administration, but abandoned shortly after the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting. At the time, the Department of Justice and Department of Homeland Security criticized the change because it could make it easier for transnational criminal organizations or terrorists to get American-made guns.

    In September, Reuters reported that the Trump administration was interested in reviving the rule change to encourage more international arms sales. With the formal commencement of the public comment period, the preparation has become a policy reality.
    In April, the Trump administration said it would now consider economic factors in addition to security when it comes to selling American weapons overseas.
    The Trump administration has argued that the change would aid the domestic gun industry by cutting down on export regulation. American consumer sales of firearms have suffered since the 2016 election. After years of elevated sales in anticipation of possible new gun-control measures imposed by Democratic lawmakers, domestic demand subsided as Republicans took full control of the federal government.
    – ALEX YABLON

    Virginia Beach Massacre Never Again Ever

    pastedGraphic_6.png

    Virgina Beach
    In a night of horrific scumbagery violence
    Rarely seen in this jaded age of ours
    Gone in one hour

    In a spasm of horrific scumbagery violence
    In just a few short minutes
    Nothing more than that
    In just a few moments
    All 12 victims were murdered

    By a disgruntled employee
    Every one he knew was shot
    And killed for no reason

    Caused by the demons
    His soul was so infected

    Murderous demonic voices
    All in his head
    Screaming kill them all kill them all
    Screaming none stop violence in his head
    All the time

    Causing him to start shooting everyone he saw
    Regardless of who they were or where they were
    Everyone must die screamed the demonic voices in his head

    No one can be left alive
    Everyone must die
    Virtually all must die in his internal video game
    Everyone must die
    Regardless of who they were or where they were

    Again just another day
    Gone horribly wrong
    All across America
    In every town
    No where is safe anymore

    Virgina Beach massacre

    Virgina Beach massacre
    Just another

    Average night in America
    An Active Shooter

    scumbagery violence
    Rarely seen

    in this jaded wild world
    Gone in one hour

    In a spasm of horrific
    scumbagery

    In just a less than 30 short minutes
    Nothing more than

    In just a few short 30 moments
    All the victims

    were murdered while at their daily work
    wrong place wrong time

    act of a demotic deranged madman
    voices screaming Kill

    The voices scream death to all humans
    All must be killed

    The voices scream over and over
    All must die now

    Just another night in America
    Home of the free

    It’s a Gun Situation, Mr. President

    pastedGraphic_7.png

    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 worlds 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 Islamic terrorists
    Most are in fact
    Self-proclaimed Christians

    So Mr. President
    When will you come to your senses

    And do what 90 percent of the public wants
    Enact nation wide 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?

    Prayer Works

    pastedGraphic_8.png

    Dear Speaker Ryan

    I want to tell you something
    The dead don’t want your prayers
    The dead don’t care that you pray for them
    They are dead after all

    And you and your so-called Christians
    Are to blame
    You refuse to do anything
    Anything at all to stop the carnage
    In our streets

    The U.S. is flooded with guns
    And more are sold every day

    Millions of people don’t have health coverage
    Millions are barely surviving
    And your answer
    Our dear great compassionate Speaker

    Your answer
    Is Prayer works
    Government action does not

    You act as if the gun violence
    Plaguing our country
    Was like the weather
    Beyond our control

    So here’s my prayer for you
    And your colleagues

    When you die
    I pray that God
    Will send you

    And your friends
    Straight to hell

    Where Satan and his demons
    Will use you for target practice

    That’s my prayer to you
    And as you know
    Prayer works

    I don’t Get It

     

    pastedGraphic_9.png

    Mr. Speaker
    I admit I don’t get it
    How does prayer
    Stop gun violence?

    Prayer did not work in Texas.
    26 people were murdered
    while praying.

    God if he exists
    Obviously does not care
    About the poor people
    Who died in his church

    Because a mad man
    Got a gun

    And no they were not praying
    To be delivered from death
    No one deserves to die like this

    So my prayer to you
    Is simply this
    Get off your rear end
    Rally the country

    And do something
    About gun violence

    That’s a prayer
    I hope works

    Prayer Does Not Work

    Add House Speaker Paul Ryan to the list of Republicans offering only thoughts and prayers in the wake of Sunday’s mass shooting in a Texas church, because taking meaningful action is always off the table with him and his party.
    Speaking with Fox News Channel’s Laura Ingraham last night, Ryan reiterated that the victims and their families need more prayers because “prayer works.”

    26 people were murdered while praying. Even Christians ought to admit that prayer doesn’t make a damn bit of difference and their God will do whatever their God wants to do, even if it means letting people die in church because a domestic abuser got his hands on a semi-automatic weapon.
    Not that Ryan would ever say that.

    Instead, he just blamed the “far secular Left” for not getting it.

     

    It is Darker Than You Think

     

     

    an old hag

    an old witch
    strictly old school

    is talking to young people
    She tells them
    that it is darker
    than they think

    the end times approach
    She proclaims
    she sees the world ending

    and is warning them
    of what is to come
    She is following
    the dark master

    of the universe
    waiting for the end
    and she is afraid
    she sees the world

    the end of things
    the end of life
    She is afraid

    she tells her students
    to boldly face
    the coming end
    with fear
    and trepidation

    and anxiety
    waiting for the end
    and in the end
    of the worl

    they will be born
    again as things
    circle back

    to the beginning
    of the end
    and the end

    of the beginning
    thus it has always
    played out
    in the world

    endless nightmares
    and in the end,
    she will wake up
    and embrace her fate

    at the end of time

    License

     

    bankers have a license to steal
    money from their clients
    if you make a mistake
    the bank can steal your money
    as part of their banking license

    Governments have a license
    to steal money
    from the publicits is called taxation
    or confiscation

    It seems
    that police these days
    have a license
    to kill
    unarmed brown people
    but only brown people

    and the president
    has a license
    to lie

    as he lies
    all the time
    just because he can

    and I have
    the ultimate license

    the poetic license
    to write
    these verses
    to enlighten the masses

    Why Are There So Many Fake Cherokees

    Erasure Poem

    So many fake Indians these days
    Elizabeth Warren is one

    And according to my DNA results
    I am too

    But my grand-parents
    spoke Cherokee my mom claims
    And they disappeared into the hills
    She claims

    Is the DNA test wrong?
    Was I adopted ?
    Or is it possible

    That I am a real deal
    A real Cherokee
    Or am I fake Cherokee???

    A Cherokee weighed in on this on Quora

    First, I would never call them “fake Natives”.
    They are 99% white,
    mostly Blue-collar,
    and New Age Hippie,

    Anglo-Americans
    who are simply
    lost without their own specific identity
    that they can proudly Claim,

    so therefore,
    they search for a certain Popular,
    Romanticized segment of Indigenous People

    that will “fit”
    into their Family’s historical Lore.

    Second, it just happens
    to ALWAYS be …
    the Cherokee …

    sometimes,
    either Blackfoot or Lakota.

    AND, “My GGM
    was a Cherokee Princess”,
    as an add-on VALUE.

    This is primarily
    because of the vast area
    formerly inhabited by the Cherokee.

    However, the tribes’ interaction
    with European immigrants
    since colonial times,

    led to a great deal of intermarriage
    with non-indigenous populations.

    In many cases people have limited knowledge
    of the other Native American nations,
    that inhabited the areas in which they live.

    However, a lot of this is wishful thinking,
    and these people have African American
    or other non-European ancestry.

    It is fashionable to claim indigenous ancestry ,
    in an attempt to legitimize t
    Their sense of belonging on our lands.

    The reason is simple,
    they don’t know the names
    of the other tribes.

    There has never been a song called
    “Indian Reservation” about Apache People
    or any other tribe

    but, the Cherokee.
    “Indian Reservation”
    by Paul Revere and the Raiders.

    So if those people aren’t Cherokee
    by blood at least it’s in spirit.

    And so I conclude
    I may be part Cherokee
    Part of the lost tribe

    Of the Cherokee
    But who really knows

    My mother took many things
    With her to the grave

    Lots of family secrets
    Things I will never know

    But in my heart
    I know
    That I am part Cherokee

    And so I will proudly
    Claim I am part Cherokee

    In spirt
    If not in blood

    Love Cinquain

    My Love
    Haunting my dreams
    Nightly talking to me
    Then walked out of the dreams into
    my Life

    Nightmare Cinquain

    Nightmares
    Endless fears all night long
    Can’t escape running from these dreams
    All night

     

    Man Child President

    A little man child
    Is our great and glorious dear leader
    Filled with hatred and jealousy
    Fear of failure haunts his every step

    The little man child
    Covers up his failures
    With bluster, bravado
    And constant attack

    The little man child
    Always attacking his enemies
    Plotting revenge all the time
    Consumed with slights and insults

    The little man child
    Lost millions of dollars

    The little man child
    Lost the popular vote

    The little man child
    Has lost the respect of the world
    And 60 percent of Americans
    Want to see him gone

    The little man child
    Has infected the body politic
    With his insidious poison

    A slowly growing cancer
    The little man child
    Will end up destroying

    The country
    Before he is through

    The little man child
    Can’t leave office
    For fear of going to prison
    So we are stuck with him

    The little man child
    Will never leave us
    Until he is resting
    In peace

    President Trump International Fire Chief

    Our dear leader
    Our favorite President
    President Trump

    Once again
    Interjected himself
    Into areas that he knows nothing about

    Making a fool of himself
    In the process

    Why does he do this?
    Time after time
    Talking nonsense

    It is because
    He is the smartest man
    In the universe

    Knows more than anyone else
    And so he feels
    He has to comment
    On everything

    Under the sun
    And then some more
    Even when he
    Does not know
    What he is talking about

    So painful to watch such a fool
    Mark Twain had sage advice
    If you want people to think
    You are a fool
    Open your mouth
    and remove all doubt

    In the midst
    Of the devastating
    Paris Norte Dame fire

    He tweeted
    “So horrible to watch the massive fire
    at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris,”

    “Perhaps flying water tankers
    could be used to put it out
    Must act quickly!”

    Later, Mr. Obvious noted,
    They’re having a terrible
    terrible fire,”

    Mr Trump later told reporters.
    “It looks like
    it’s burning to the ground.”

    The French were not amused
    By the unwanted advice
    By the fire fighter in chief

    France’s civil defense agency,
    Sécurité Civile, tweeted —

    once in French
    and once in English

    — less than two hours after Mr Trump

    sent his tweet
    and appeared

    to directly respond to the US president.

    “Helicopter or aeroplane,
    the weight of the water
    and the intensity of the drop
    at low altitude

    could indeed weaken
    the structure of Notre Dame
    and result in collateral damage
    to the buildings in the vicinity,”

    the agency wrote in French.
    And despite never posting updates in English,

    the agency then sent out a second tweet.

    Hundreds of firemen of the Paris Fire Brigade are doing everything they can to bring the terrible #NotreDame fire under control. All means are being used, except for water-bombing aircrafts which, if used, could lead to the collapse of the entire structure of the cathedral.

    — Sécurité Civile Fr (@SecCivileFrance) April 15, 2019

    And the French provided

    This helpful advice
    To the Fire Fighter in chief

    When California burned
    you did not seem to be a fire expert.

    Please, shut up.

    It is a tragic moment
    for the cultural heritage of humanity.

    Catching the Trump Madness


    Releasing the Trump Monsters

    The Trump madness deepens
    And the world grows darker
    The evil ones have been released
    The wild things are growling

    The dogs of war
    Satan’s hell hounds
    Are on the loose

    Howling at the moon
    Running amuck
    Infecting us all
    With their madness

    As we all turn
    into mindless zombies
    Filled with hatred
    Jealousy and insanity

    As Trump
    and his neo-fascist
    Cabal unleash the monsters
    Of their dangerous id

    Devouring all reason
    Turning all they see
    Into raving lunatics

    As they set the world on fire
    Ushering in the ends of days

    Armageddon looms
    Will Trump be raptured away?

    Only God knows
    And he is not telling

    As we descend
    Into the maelstrom
    Hoping against hope

    That we can overcome
    The monsters
    That Trump has unleashed

    In the end
    Perhaps it does not matter

    As the world careens
    Deeper into hell
    There is no end

    Nothing but despair
    Forever and ever

    prayer for future of the planet

    A shaman priestess
    Is deep in thought

    Engaged in Meditation
    on the fate
    Of the earth

    She is deep in the cosmic woods
    In the world between worlds

    Where she is communing
    With the spirits of the universe
    Who listen to her tale of woe

    She tells them
    Of the rise of the neo-fascists
    And the refusal to address

    The possible end of the world
    Due to run away climate change
    She prays and prays

    And finally
    She receives an answer
    More a prediction
    It is all up to humans

    She has two visions
    Of a possible future

    Two contrasting visions
    One a dystopian nightmare
    The other an optimistic vision

    The first
    The neo-fascists
    Seize control

    And usher in a dystopian nightmare
    That ends with utter destruction

    Nuclear war
    Nuclear winter
    Ends climate change

    As civilization ends
    And mankind retreat to caves

    And it happens
    In a blink of an eye

    In less than five years
    The world will end
    Game over civilization ends

    The second vision
    The optimistic vision

    Humanity wakes up
    From their collective night mare
    Throws off the neo-fascist cabal

    And begin to change the world
    Making the economy works
    For all of us

    Not just the corrupt 1 percent
    The so-called masters of the Universe

    They are overthrown
    In a people’s power revolution

    All over the world
    People wake up
    Demand change

    And slowly the world
    Begins to recover
    And overcome

    The dark hours
    Of the present age

    The shaman priestess
    Returns home
    To spread the word

    It up to us
    To choose our fate
    The end is indeed near

    It is darker than you think
    But it is not over yet

    If we choose the path
    Of the cosmic light

    And overthrow
    The neo-fascist cabal
    And restore democracy

    And peace will break out
    And all will end well
    If not

    Well she says
    You have been warned

    The universe has spoken
    So, mote it be

    lucky numbers blues

    There are many gambler’s fallacies
    the statisticians say
    each roll of the roulette table
    is an independent event

    Yet the gamblers believe
    that if for example
    there were ten red numbers

    in a row
    that the next one should be black
    right

    A statistician in the U,K.
    decided to prove
    that the gamblers
    were all delusional

    in insisting that there were patterns
    in the endless spin of the wheel
    and that it was more of a curve

    that the noise of random numbers
    after thousands of spins
    recorded on a computer

    the pattern was clear
    there was a bell shape curve

    with an upswing
    and a downswing to the data

    an early experiment
    in chaos theory

    but with a practical application
    if you are on a winning curve
    keep going until the curve

    turns into a losing curve
    then walk away

    and you might be a winner
    according to science

    but they have yet
    to be able to prove/disprove

    that lucky numbers exist
    for you and me
    mine was always 32

    and when it pops
    I swore that my lucky number
    came up

    just a fluke
    according to science

    another iron clad rule
    the regression to the mean

    the curve may go up
    and may go down

    but in the end
    it regresses to the mean
    and that means

    the house always wins

     morning thoughts

    Every morning I wake up
    And see the love of my life

    Sleeping soundly
    In our bed
    The sun fills my room

    And I get up
    To do my morning routine
    Just marveling at the sight

    And as I do my thing
    I am drawn back to bed

    Just to look
    At this strange creature
    That captured my heart
    So many years ago

    And I wonder yet again
    At the mystery of our love
    How and why

    Did the universe bring us together?
    Where did she come from
    And why did she summoned me?

    I have no answers
    Our love transcended
    The barriers of time
    And space

    And somehow
    We found each other
    And will be together

    Until the death of time

    April 8th Santa James Comes to Town

    In this dark and dangerous time
    That we live in
    We seldom hear tales
    Of inspiration, hope and love

    Yet when we do hear such tales
    It fills us with wonder
    And hope that some how
    We can do better

    Life can be better
    Love can conquer hate

    And decency can prevail
    Over the dark forces all around us
    In Kingman, Arizona

    An old blind homeless man appeared
    Out of nowhere he showed up

    And started walking about
    He was polite, friendly and not scary
    Did not want anything from any one

    And somehow he conquered the town
    Who adopted him

    They called him Santa James
    Because he wore a red Santa cape

    And he was just so
    filled with good will
    Laughter, advice and stories

    Boy did he spin good stories
    Poetic allusions
    And just radiated goodness

    Everyone fell in love
    with Santa James
    He was given a job

    Playing piano
    Given a room to stay in

    Spoke at the local schools
    And churches

    And to any one
    who stopped him
    He remembered everyone’s name

    And life story
    Even though he was blind

    He could see the good in everyone
    And that is the moral of the tale of mine

    here is goodness all around us
    If only we open our hearts
    To accept it

    We have the power
    To reject hate
    To reject division

    And accept love
    If only Santa James spirit
    Could spread across this country

    We could heal our wounds
    And become united again

    That is my prayer
    Perhaps Santa James
    Is really a saint

    The real thing
    Who knows

    All we know
    Is that Santa James
    Came to town

    And the rest
    Is the history
    We will make of it

    Long Live Santa James

     Coffee  Love Hate Affair

    I love coffee
    Always have
    Always will

    But I have
    a love-hate affair
    With coffee

    Love it when it gets me
    uplifting high in the sky
    As the sun comes over

    Filling with hope
    And anticipation

    As I conquer the day’s
    Daunting tasks
    With a little help
    From my drug of choice

    But coffee turns on me
    Late in the day
    And I can’t sleep

    just can’t sleep
    As the coffee burns
    In my soul

    And I toss and turn
    And sleep no more

    Coffee does that to me
    And so,

    I am reduced
    To drinking decaf coffee
    or fake herbal coffee
    Not the same thing at all

    But that is all I can handle
    As I am a coffee addict
    And always will be

    Coffee Blues

    Coffee
    is my drug
    of choice
    Always has been

    Ever since
    I first tried it
    As a young lad
    so many decades ago

    Loved coffee’s power
    To speed up
    my synaptic nerves
    Turning me on

    Keeping me going
    and going and going
    But there is a dark
    side to everything

    And coffee is a drug
    And it will take you
    Where it wants to go

    Enslaving you
    Making you its victim
    As it toys with you

    Messes with you
    Prevents you
    from sleeping

    Coffee
    is a harsh mistress
    It demands respect

    As you fall
    under it seductive powers
    Slave again
    To the drug of choice

    Just another over-caffeinated
    Coffee addict
    Stumbling along the street
    Looking for a fix

    At six in the morning
    As the coffee wears off
    And you finally
    Can get some sleep

    Until the alarm
    Blasts you away
    And you reach out
    Trembling for your fix

    Coffee

    you scream out
    I need coffee
    The universe laughs
    As you get your coffee high

    Just another pathetic
    coffee junkie
    When all is said

    and done

     Messenger Dog of God

    One day
    While studying in Rome
    As a priest

    I notice a small white dog
    Staring at me

    He glances at me
    Indicating that I am to follow him

    I get up
    And follow this strange dog
    He leads me deep

    Inside the hidden depths
    Of the Vatican
    Finally stopping by a door

    I open the door
    And see St Peter there

    He smiles
    Dismisses the dog
    Who moves on down the hall

    Finished with his cosmic duty
    As the secret messenger of God
    All in a days work
    I ask why am I here?

    St Peter says
    Why are any of us here?

    It is time for you to go

    But I don’t want to go
    Don’t want to leave this mortal plane
    St Peter smiles

    Says it is time to go
    I wake up

    Back in my bed
    With my wife
    And realize it was all a dream

    It was not yet time
    To go

    But I am afraid
    I will find the messenger dog
    Outside my door

    Any day now
    The grim reaper waits

    And it will soon be my time

    just for today

    today
    just for today
    I plan to do nothing
    nothing at all

    just go with the flow

    of the day

    as the day turns into night
    and the night turns into sleep
    I will ride the wave
    along

    with my love

    until the day is done

    it’s a dog’s life for me

    an agnostic dyslectic
    stays up all night
    wondering if there is a dog
    the Buddhists wonder
    about the Buddha nature of the dog

    the evangelicals are sure that there is a dog
    and you must follow their dog

    or go to hell
    for following another’s dog

    the Muslims agree

    there is only one dog
    and the dogs
    smile at the foolishness
    of the human race

    of course, there is a dog

    and they are the master race

    as they growl at their owners
    who bow down

    and clean up their mess

    it can’t happen, or has it

    Every day when I watch TV
    I see the chattering classes
    The TV pundits
    And their guests
    Pontificate about this and that

    And it seems to me
    That they are missing the big picture
    In the era of Donald Trump

    Nothing that they say
    Will make a difference

    Donald Trump has slowly conquered
    The political world
    And he is shaping it into something

    That we had hoped we would never see
    A truly American neo-fascist state
    Wrapped around the flag

    And so-called Christian values
    And the latest made up outrage

    And the chattering classes
    Don’t seem to understand

    That they are next
    On the hit parade
    As the Donald Trump machinery
    Continues to take over
    the known universe

    The question used to be

    It can’t happen here
    The answer I am afraid
    Is already has

    so excited to be alive

    I wake up
    with the dawning sun
    this morning
    I was so excited

    to be alive

    at age 63

    I look at my sleeping beauty
    and realize yet again
    my life began

    te day I met her

    37 years ago

    she walked off a bus
    out of my dreams
    and into my life

    and my life began
    that autumn day

    when I met
    the girl of my dreams

    trump

    Triumphed against all enemies
    Remaining unvanquished
    Uniting all who oppose him
    Might makes right

    Patriots unite behind the Great Leader

    just an unhinged werewolf howling at the moon

     

    as the lunatic light of the blood red moon
    the super blue moon lights up the night

    the werewolf stirs
    as the light shines on him

    slowly transforming him

    into a dark dangerous creature
    of the lunatic night

    ready for his flight

    out into the world,
    he emerges

    snarling

    howling at the moon

    just another unhinged

    werewolf
    out for blood today

    howling at the moon

    scorpion night of passion

    Born in October
    Scorpion Passionate fool
    Always taking the lead

    consumed with dark desires

    is this Scorpio buddha nature

    consumed with dark desires

    Glow

     

     

    Glowing light of the dawning sun
    Lights up my dismal room
    Overwhelming me with love

    Watching my dream girl sleep

    old woman and the genie

    An old Chinese woman

    Stands in a field
    On the lunatic edge of town

    Where drinkers gather to drink

    And woman of ill repute

    Play their games

    With the passing drunks
    Men ready for a night of passion

    She is holding a tea pot

    And proclaims

    That the pot contains

    A genie
    That will grant the new owner

    Three wishes

    She had to sell the pot

    Because her wishes came true

    And she smiles
    And laughs insanely

    The laughter dies

    And she implores people

    To buy her tea pot

    And put her out of misery
    Just buy my pot

    And your dreams will come true

    Be careful dear thought

    Remember all magic

    Comes with a price
    A terrible price

    trapped back of the bus

    hitching a ride

     

    Back of the Bus

    Many years ago

    When I was a foolish young man
    I took a greyhound bus trip

    Just to see the country

    I was trapped
    In the back of the bus

    Where the young
    And restless souls

    Gathered together

    And drank illegally
    And smoked weed

    Also illegally
    We stayed there

    Until Winnemuca

    Where I got off
    And found my bus pass

    Had found another owner

    Ad I went to Salt Lake City

    Still trapped in the back of the bus

    down and out in Saigon

     

    Down and Out in Saigon
    Southeast Asia, and Mexico
    has always attracted

    A certain type of westerner

    The down and out

    On a down word spiral
    Why?
    Relatively cheap to live

    Lots of part-time gigs

    Teaching English

    Or other things
    Cheap Booze, drugs, sex
    Readily available

    Places to stay

    Dirt cheap

    And no one needs
    To sleep outdoors
    Easy to disappear

    Into the foreigner’s backpackers ghettos

    And escape

    From whatever you are running from
    The locals are somewhat tolerant
    The police usually look the other way

    And there are lots of people

    In your shoes

    I was surprised to find
    That Saigon has become
    The latest place

    For the down and outer crowd

    In Bangkok, one sees them a lot

    In Cambodia as well

    In the Philippines

    In Nepal

    And south of the border

    In Mexico as well

    and Eastern Europe

     

    And Latin America

    In India not so much

    In Japan and Korea

    Just too damn expensive

    And too cold to be outdoors

    Back in the day

    I used to work

    The citizen services gig

    And saw lots of the down

    and out set

    The old blues song

    comes to mind

    No one remembers you

    When you are down and out

    And in the States

    Being down and out

     

    Means living

    on the mean streets

    As it is very difficult

    To live with almost no money

    And the various side hustles

    Don’t give you much money

    Unless you are dealing drugs

    And teaching ESL

    Is not an option

    other hustles are difficult

    and begging gets one arreste

    Food is expensive

    Transportation is expensive

    Booze and drugs expensive

    Rent is prohibitive

    Commercial sex is expensive

    And no one loves you

    If you are down and out

    No one knows your name

    You are just another

    homeless bum

    Invisible to all

    As you try to make do

    Much better to be down and out

    In Southeast Asia

    Than on the mean streets

    Of the USA

    Ghosts Along the Jungle Path in Vietnam

    walking down a lonely trail

    in the jungles of Vietnam

    fleeing the ghosts of the Viet Kong

    down the Chu Chi Trail

    pursued by ghosts

    and memories of war

    and the horror

    that lay beneath my feet

    wondering yet again

    was it worth it

    the war

    the thousands of dead

    silent witnesses

    lie beneath my feet

    silent witnesses

    to the folly of war

    as I walk down the jungle path

    heading to nowhere

    thinking these dark thoughts

    talking to my ghostly companions

    Saigon 1995

    In 1995

    I was one of the first American tourists

    Allowed into Vietnam

    To freely wander about

    Tourism was at its infancy

    And Saigon was chaotic

    Wild and crazy

    Traffic was insane

    There were few tourism sites

    Few hotels

    Few guest houses

    And not too many restaurants

    The food was good

    We saw the war memorial

    The reunification palace

    And the big market

    But we felt we were being monitored

    Beggars were everywhere

     

    There were scams everywhere

    And it was not that pleasant an experience

    But Saigon grew up

    Became a much more tourist-friendly place

    And these problems we encountered

     

    A thing of the place

    Saigon is so much better

    So much more developed

    That it has captured our soul

    And we will be back

    saigon 201

    Saigon 2019

    Vibrant, vivid, exciting
    A city on the move

     

    Becoming a world-class city

    Yet still with a Saigon swagger

    Wandering the streets

    Dodging the traffic

    Admiring the women

    Enjoying the food

    Saigon enters my heart

    And I know that I will be back

    This city is growing on me

    Reminds me of Korea

    One hopes that as it develops

    It will not become a carbon copy

    Of other big Asian cities

    Obliterating its past

    In search of a false modern image

    I hope it can retain

    What makes Saigon Saigon

    And not become another Gangnam

    Hope it does it with Saigon style

    And the people will evolve

    The country will emerge

    And become what it should be

    The Paris of the East

    This is my vision

    as I wander about

    enjoying Saigon in 2019

    ghost of Chu Chi

    Crawling down the tunnels

    Of Chu Chi

    I could almost imagine

    The Viet Kong guerillas

    Hiding deep under the tunnels

    As the land above is turned

    Into a temporary dessert

    With the vegetation burned off

    By napalm and agent orange

    The Viet Kong creep out at night

    Stealing onto the bases

    Stealing weapons, food, supplies

    And occasionally killing soldiers

    In their sleep

    The US soldiers

    Stay on base at night

    Terrified of the mosquitos

    And of the Viet Kong

    the ghosts

    Surround me

    Telling me their stories

    And at last I fled

    Through the emergency escape tunnel

    Declaring victory

    Profoundly shaken up

    By the ghosts of the Chu Chi tunnels

    Old Lady in the Neighborhood

    There is an old Vietnamese lady

    In the neighborhood

    Obviously senile

    But everyone knows her

    And watches over her

    To make sure

    She stays out of traffic

    And out of trouble

    She talks to everyone

    But no one seems to understand

    What she is babbling

    on about

    They smile at her

    And she smiles back

    And she for some reason

    She likes us

    And like my

    Vietnamese Coffee lady

    I wonder why

    Why was there

    this connection

    Between us

    It dawned on me

    Perhaps in a prior life

    She knew an American or two

    And I remind her of someone

    Or perhaps she is found

    Of Korean K drama

    And Angela reminds her

    Of her favorite K Drama star

    Or perhaps it is both

    Or another reason entirely

    But in any event

    I look forward

    To seeing her smiling face

    Every time I walk

    Down my ally way

    in Old Saigon

    Coffee Lady in Saigon

    Every morning

    I have gone out for Vietnamese coffee

    At a sidewalk café

    Down the ally from our AIRBNB

    The owner is a pleasant middle age woman

    Who for some reason likes us

    She smiles at us

    Greets us in Vietnamese

    She does  not understand English

    Or Korean

    And I wonder why

    Why was there

    this connection

    Between us

    It dawned on me

    Perhaps in a prior life

    She knew an American or two

    And I remind her of someone

    Or perhaps she is found

    Of Korean K drama

    And Angela reminds her

    Of her favorite K Drama star

    Or perhaps it is both

    Or another reason entirely

    But I moved today

    And will miss her

    Might go back for a final cup

    Of coffee

    To say good bye

    To my Vietnamese coffee lady

    Mastering the Saigon Shuffle

     

    Motorbike riders waiting at intersection. Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

    When I first visited Saigon

    Learning the Saigon Shuffle

    Was difficult

    And now 24 years later

    It all seems to be coming back

    There is an art to crossing the street

    Dodging the motor cyclists, the taxis, the private cars

    The bikes and other pedestrians and the buses

    The art consists of letting the big guys go first

    Then walk between the motorcycles and cyclists

    Trusting that they will get out of your way

    And they being masters of the Saigon shuffle

    Always find a way

    In my two visits I was struck

    By how it all flows together

    Without a central authority

    And with almost no planning

    Lights or cops

    Somehow it just is

    And somehow it works

    And it is still a mystery to me

    24 years after first

    Encountering the Saigon shuffle

    old Ghosts in Saigon

    Old ghosts wandering the streets of old Saigon

    Lost spirits of the dead

    Died during the endless wars

    Ghostly apparitions around every corner

    Here was Kilroy

    and his gang of soldiers

    Over there were the Viet Cong

    Waiting to kill them

    Saigon is filled with memories like that

    Terrible times were had here in Old Saigon

    Silently the ghosts parade the city streets

    As the tourists drink in the bars

    Seeing Ghosts

    Seeing Ghosts

    I walk around the streets

    Of old Saigon

    Seeing sensing the undead

    The ghosts of the war

    That haunted life

    So many years ago

    So many people died

    For a war

    That never should have been fought

    For reasons that are still not clear

    A great tragedy unfolded

    In a land half away

    Around the world

    The ghosts smile at me

    And then they disappear

    Leaving me in the present

    Life goes on

    satanic torture

    I find myself

    In a dark room
    Strapped to a bed

    The light turns on

    The large TV comes on

    A smiling image

    Of Satan fills the TV
    He is dressed

    In a conservative business suit

    Looks like he came

    Out of a corporate

    board meeting
    surrounded by demonic aides

    who constantly shove papers

    at him

    He looks up from his lap top

    And smiles
    A deadly so insincere smile

    His voice booms out

    Welcome to Hell

    My satanic slaves

    I am Satan
    Your new master

    Each of you

    Has been sentenced

    To an eternity of torture

    And the punishment
    Must fit the crime

    So, for you

    Mr. Jake Cosmos Aller

    Failed aspiring poet

    And novelist
    Your torture

    Is to be strapped

    To that bed

    Unable to move

    As you are filled

     

    With the need

    To piss and

    But you cannot move

    And your skin

    Is crawling with bugs
    And itchy

    as Hell so to speak

    and you are so sleepy

    but you cannot sleep

    the TV will play

     

    endless repeats

    Of some of the worst TV

    and movie shows

    ever produced

    Starting with my favorite

    A Series of Unfortunate Events

    Featuring your favor annoying little girl

    Carmetta! Singing for you forever

    As you are the ultimate cake sniffer

    Welcome to Hell

    worlds within worlds lost in inner space

     

    A man woke up one day

    Lost in inner space

    Went so far down

    The proverbial rabbit hole

    That he did not know

    Where he was

    Nor what time it was

    Nor when it was

    As he stared out

    At a bewildering world

    A world lost in inner space

    Deep down in his dreams

    Filled with nightmarishly real

    Monsters, demons and ghostly apparitions

    He saw them and began running

    Running running running

    With the hell hounds behind him

    Leading him to the edge

    of the pits of hell itself

    abandon all hope

    ye who enter here

    the sign read

    above the entrance to the pit

    and there was a devil standing there

    armed with a clipboard

    and a computer spreadsheet
    Satan was the ultimate bureaucrat

    Name barked the devil

    Date of Birth ?

    Date of Death?

    Don’t know? That won’t do at all
    Hmm

    Car accident due to drunk driving

    And you killed a child

    Bad on you

    But here in hell
    The punishment fits the crime

    And the devil laughed

    Joined in by the hell hounds

    And other nightmare creatures

    A bell ran out

    In the purple crystalline sky

    And slowly the worlds receded

    And he found himself alive

    In his room

    And vowed

    That today

    Was the day

    He would quit drinking

    Quit taking drugs

    And quit chasing strange woman

     

    And having wild libertine sex

    He picked up the phone

    It was Satan’s aid

    Be careful what you vow

    We are listening

    If you fulfill your vows

    You might find yourself

    Escaping life in Hell

    It is up to you to choose

    And the man got dressed

     

    Went to work

    Thinking deep thoughts

    And drove off a cliff

    And back down the endless

    Worlds within worlds

    endless movie

     

    Watching the TV coverage

    Of the great government shut down

    Of 2018-2019

    I am reminded of a movie

    As I fall asleep

    Listening to the TVBlather on and on

    About what it all means

    Mr. Natural pops u

    And screams

    “It don’t mean s….

     

    “Dude, the endless movie

    Is about to begin”!

    A middle-aged white man

    Down on his proverbial luck

    Just been fired
    Replaced by a foreign worker

    Or a robot

    Or just fired

    Because he was no longer

    Deemed useful
    To the masters of the universe

    If he was lucky

    He’d  be given a watch

    And an IOU worthless pension

    And the man wanders into a restaurant

    Pulls out a gun

    Eats his breakfast

    After the official breakfast hour

    Puts on a Pepe the green frog mask

    Drops acid, Snorts speed

    Drinks a shot of booze

    And coffee smokes a joint

    Snorts cocaine for good measure

    and smokes a cigarette

    And walks outside

    steals a bus at gun point

    Filled with passengers

    He tells them

    They are hostages

    And he puts on his vest

    With the dead man switch

    Next to the bomb

    He announces

    Via tweet

    He is going to take the bus

    To the proverbial pot of gold

    Hidden deep in a cave

    And when he got there

    He would release the hostages

    And disappear into the mine

    And never be found again

    And as the bus careens around the mountain

    At 100 miles an hour

    The dude sprouts out

    Conspiracy after conspiracy theory

    About Obama the Muslim communist

    secret gay working with George Soros

    the Jewish money people

    in league with the shapeshifting lizards

    and Mueller is one of them

    they are all after him

    because he knows the deal

    And the passengers are transfixed

    Half hoping, he would make it

    Half hoping, he would be blown away

    And as the bus careens out of control

    With the wheels falling off

    And the cliff looming ahead

    You realize we are all doomed

    morphing images

    I am in a room

    Drinking at a party

    And smoking weed

    Watching people all around me

    Change into hideous creatures

    Monsters from the deepest depths of hell

    Everyone in the room

    Has been transformed except me

    The Chief of them all

    Wears a Trumpian mask

    Complete with orange hair

    Half human half pig

    His deputy

    Wears the face of Putin

    But his body

    Half human, half horse: if

    The other creatures wear masks

    Many of them wear

    Green Pepe the alt-right

    Symbolic frog masks

    And have T-shirts

    Bearing alt right slogans

    And Nazi symbols

    And as they prance about

    They chant alt. Right slogans

    And neo-Nazi chants

    Jews will not Replace us

    And the rest of these creatures

    Are hideous ugly beasts

    With only a vestige of humanity left

    And these monsters are engaged

    In all sorts of foul evil deeds

    Murder violence death

    All around

    And non-stop

    violent drug-fueled orgies

    As these creatures

    Half human half monsters

    Half male, half female creatures

    Snort coke, cocaine, speed

    Smoke weed and drink vodka shots

    Scotch, bourbon and beer

    The Trumpian Pig leads the charge

    Starts engaging in sodomy with Putin

    Who chases after people

    Cutting off their heads with his sword

    They turn on to their fellow creatures

    Raping and killing each other

    and eating their fellow creatures

    All night long

    Then they attack me

    Screaming

    Jews will not replace us

    And I wake up

    Screaming

    As the sun comes up

    Just another nightmare

    One Night I Dreamt of You

    One night I dreamt of you

    For seven years I dreamt of you

    Until you walked into my life

    One Night in Lithia Springs

    One night in Lithia Springs

    We soaked away our painful life

    And again fell in Love

    You Are My Everything

    You are my everything

    All my hopes and dreams

    Haunting my nights

    I Can Not Get Rid

    I cannot get rid

    This angel haunting my soul

    Seeing your face in the sky

    saying goodbye

    Saying goodbye now

    Is the hardest thing to do

    But I must do it

    You are my Angel

    You are my Angel

    Sent from God up in heaven

    To conquer my life

    One Moment, One Day

    One moment, one day

    You walked out of my nightmares

    And swept into life

    Waking Up to No You

    Waking up to no you

    Absent in my bed at night

    Absent from my dreams

    Thursday Evening

    Thursday early evening

    Thinking dark thoughts only you

    Can you cure these thoughts?

    howling at the moon

    As I sit

    Under the lunatic light of the full moon

    Of the blood-red lights of the moon

    Full of wild passions

    The lustful beast stirs again

    And starts running and running

    Howling at the moon

    Riding into the new dawn

    On a demented Harley Davis cycle

    With two naked babes on his back

    Riding into the sun

    90 miles per second

    At the speed of thought

    He disappears into the lunatic light

    Of the full moon

    And I wake up

    Alone in my bed

    Saying, man, that was quite a night

    I better not go there again

    The wild beast

    Laughs

    He has heard that before

    And I join

    The beast

    In howling at the Moon

    just an unhinged lunatic howling at the moon

    On a moonlit late night

    I sat in a bar

    Drinking drams of demented, fermented dream dew

    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

    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 pants

    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 moon

    Foaming at the mouth

    A wild, free werewolf

    Howling at the lunatic light

    Of the full Moon

    Note: in honor of the blood moon posted on my blog the world according to cosmos

    the story of how we met

    It all began in Berkeley, California

    In the springtime of 1974

    One fateful afternoon

    I was sleeping in my high school Physics class.

    I looked up and saw a tall,

    beautiful Asian woman

    standing there looking at me.

    She was the most beautiful women

    in the universe to me

    I screamed out, who are you?

    She disappeared

    as if she was beamed

    away from my dream.

    I knew that someday

    I would meet the girl

    In the dream

    Little did I know

    I would have to wait until 1982

    Starting that month

    I began having the same dream

    Month and month and month.

    Always the same.

    She was saying something

    in a strange language.

    Then one day

    I had the dream

    and knew that

    she was in Korea.

    So, I chose to go

    to Korea

    In the Peace Corps,

    Somehow knowing

    That I would meet her there.

    One day

    A year after the Peace Corps ended

    A month before I planned

    to leave to return

    to the U.S. for graduate school

    That morning early in the morning

    I had the last of these dreams.

    This time I understood her.

    She said, “Don’t worry.

    We’ll meet soon.”

    That evening

    As I was getting off the bus

    To go to my class

    I saw getting off the bus

    The girl in my dream.

    It was she!

    I was speechless.

    I did not know what to do.

    Over the course of the evening

    I ran into her several times.

    Finally, I was introduced to her.

    I muttered some lame excuse

    About wanting to find a Korean tutor

    and got her number.

    The next day she came to the gate

    Of my base where I was teaching

    ESL to Koreans

    She said that she

    had to speak with me.

    I told to wait in the library

    for about an hour,

    and I would cancel class

    and meet her then.

    We went out for coffee.

    She told me that she was madly

    in love with me

    And simply had to have me.

    I told her I felt the same way.

    I proposed five days later,

    And got married one month later.

    Does she believe this story?

    She claims she does not believe it

    Because it is impossible to be true.

    But I know that there

    are other worlds and other times.

    In a past life

    we must have been together somehow.

    And our love was so strong

    That it crossed over the barrier

    of time and space

    She found me in 1974,

    But it took until 1982

    For us to actually meet.

    And it has been 36 years

    Since we met in the physical sphere

    Or 45 years since the dream began

    And I still recall the dream

    And meeting her

    I had no choice

    When I met her

    We were fated to be together

    true story.

    October Rain

    The falling rain

    Of late October

    Fills me with essential dread

    As I rush about

    And end up here

    Wherever here is

    The rain outside

    Seems like the tears of god

    As I sit

    Crying over my beer

    Thinking of lost love

    And failed dreams

    Wondering

    What went wrong?

    And what I can set right

    And the rain falls

    And the night darkens

    The rain is falling

    All over this man’s world

    And the rain falls

    And I sit

    Drinking my lonesome drink

    Lost in dreams

    Dreaming of what

    Could never be

    Thinking dark thoughts

    And so, I sit

    And dream the night away

    fake things

     

    fake things_origfake things_orig
    fake things_orig

    We live in a world

    Of fake things

    Fake Products

    Fake News

    Fake Calls

    Fake Politics

    Fake Sports

    Fake Business

    Fake Leaders

    Fake People

    Fake friends

    Fake sincerity

    Surrounded 24/7

    By all the fake things

    How can anything real exist?

    Is it all nothing but fake things

    Designed to deceive us all?

    will be published in Foliate Oak Review

    Morphing Images from Hellish Nightmare

     

    I am in a room

    Watching people all around me

    Change into hideous creatures

    Monsters from the deepest depths of hell

    The Chief of them all

    Wears a Trumpian mask

    Completed with orange hair

    Half human half pig

    His deputy

    Wears the face of Putin

    But his body

    Half human, half horse

    The other creatures wear masks

    Many of them wear

    Green Pepe the alt right

    Symbolic frog masks

    And have T shirts

    Bearing alt right slogans

    And Nazi symbols

    And as they prance about

    They chant alt. Right slogans

    And neo Nazi chants

    Jews with Not Replace us

    And the rest of these creatures

    Are hideous ugly beasts

    With only a vestige of humanity left

    And these monsters are engaged

    In all sorts of foul evil deeds

    Murder violence death

    All around

    And none-stop

    violent drug fueled orgies

    As these creatures

    Half human half monsters

    Half male, half female creatures

    Snort coke, cocaine, speed

    Smoke weed and drink vodka shots

    Scotch, bourbon and beer

    The Trumpian Pig leads the charge

    Starts engaging in sodomy with Putin

    Who chases after people

    Cutting off their heads with his sword

    They turn on to their fellow creatures

    Raping and ing each other

    All night long

    Then they attack me

    Screaming

    Jews will not replace us

    And I wake up

    Screaming

    As the sun comes up

    Just another nightmare

    Note: from a recent nightmare

    early morning thoughts

    Early in the midst of a chaotic frenzy

    I caught the fragrance of her sweat grin

    And my heart did a swirling spin

    When I saw that vision of erotic delight

    There I stood

    Alone in a somehow too dismal room

    Full of vibrant people

    I knew not what to say

    So, I spent that dismal day

    Thinking dismal morbid thoughts of lugubrious doom

    Thoughts what might happen that day

    And what might have been if I had the courage to say Hello

    Thus, it went

    Years after ever melancholy year

    Days after ever gloomy days

    Nights of self-induced torture

    Months of nightly rancid beer

    There it went

    Now

    I am sitting and thinking

    Thoughts so gloomy

    I still don’t know

    Life belongs to the living

    Not to the morbid mystic dreamers

    Nor the poets dying

    depressed morbid nights

    One of these depressed, depraved, morbid nights

    I shall awake to the God damned game of life

    And sit under the graying light

    Of the foolish full moon

    And laminate upon my luminance

    And chew up the garments of past lives

    And cry my soul

    But no one will hear the plight of my mind

    On strike for better wages

    And more love

    Thus, I will sit, and think and dream

    Dreams that no one ever before dreamt

    It is so very lonely being a foolish lunatic

    But then as I drink to oblivion

    I begin to think

    Of all those things that I have not experienced

    And wonder with a vengeance

    Why God hates me so

    Or is it only an illusion?

    When will I awake

    Or do we just sit waiting for more beer

    To cover up

    The stench of putrid rotting flesh

    Waiting for death to take us away

    To the Cosmic garbage dump in the sky

    Trying to communicate across a gap

    That is light years’ long

    And will never close

    For man was not made to know

    The real thoughts of another

    Man was made to suffer, cry and wait

    For the party in Hell afterwards

    , let’s us die and be done with it

    Or live without our God damned dreams

    Running our thoughts

    Into pits of depraved madness

    Hell is Here to Stay

    The angel of the lord

    Appeared on TV sets

    All over the world

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    People woke up

    Expecting to see

    The usual suspects

    Talking heads

    Talking drivel

    Talking trash

    Instead

    A stern visage

    A stern old man

    In a dark suit

    He had a salt and pepper beard

    And long, dark black hair

    And piercing blue eyes

    Staring out

    From his stern face

    The eyes

    Piercing the soul

    Of all who listened

    The voice

    Of the angel of the lord

    Was like thunder

    And all over the world

    People tried to turn off

    Their TV sets

    To no avail

    Twilight light Zone

    Prevailed

    The angel of the lord

    Stopped swearing

    And said

    In a calm

    Deadly voice

    People of earth

    You know the lord

    By a billion names

    I am his spokesman

    We’ve realized

    There is the age of the TV

    And we must be able to reach

    You directly

    Before one or a million

    Could understand

    Now no one hears us

    For you are convinced

    We are dead

    Irrelevant

    Washed up

    A fraud

    Frankly speaking

    You all can go to hell

    And an evil grin

    Appears on his face

    As he says

    Can a fraud do this?

    And outside

    Thunder and lightening

    A star comes down

    And houses were blown away

    And everyone was

    Outside

    The TV set

    Was in the sky above

    The voice of the angel

    Of the lord

    Proclaiming

    Repent

    The end is near

    And now

    No more TV

    No more booze

    The rights to you

    Have been sold

    For to quote Frank Zappa

    You are all assholes

    You are all assholes

    All of you

    Little, mean little assholes

    Let me introduce

    My new business partner

    satan

    Satan, also known

    As the prince of darkness

    God and Satan

    Have agreed on a deal

    A thousand year Reich

    A thousand year of slavery

    For you

    My little human assholes

    For your sins, your arrogance

    Your foolish pride

    After a thousand years

    Of pure torture

    We will return

    To judge the living and the dead

    Most of you will remain in hell

    Some will be redeemed

    And allowed into heaven

    And now, back to your usual station

    Welcome to hell

    Satan said

    And laughed and laughed and laughed

    And the usual crimes resume

    The usual lies and deceits and shames

    For most people

    It made no difference

    They had been in hell

    For centuries

    For some

    It mattered

    fake eggs

     

    Eggs

    I love real eggs

    From real chicken

    Preferably free range

    Vegetarian fed,

    No antibiotic feed

    No hormones added

    Non-caged chickens,

    allowed to roam about

    As God intended

    them to do

    Not locked up

    In chicken coop hell

    But now

    We have so many choices

    We can have fake eggs

    Without any cholesterol

    Or yoke

    Tastes like real chicken eggs

    At least they claim

    But who knows what’s real

    Any more

    Can you trust

    The chicken is real ?

    Fake bread

    Now a days

    Most of the time

    I eat fake bread

    GF bread

    For health reasons

    My wife can’t tolerate the real thing

    And so,

    I eat fake bread

    Fake pasta

    Fake pizza

    But every so often

    I want the real deal

    I crave bread

    Made with wheat

    And a real pizza

    And real pasta

    And real donuts

     

    Fake Booze

    I never real understood

    The concept of alcohol free booze

    Alcohol free beer

    Alcohol free wine

    I don’t get Mocktales

    And I don’t get fruit beer

    And coffee beer

    And other the other weirdo drinks

    That people drink these days

    I mean when you drink booze

    You want the alcohol

    You want the buzz

    You need the booze

    And you want it now

    And frankly fake booze

    Just does not do it for me

    So please no fake beer

    No mocktails

    No fake wine for me

    As the song puts it

    One scotch, one bourbon

    And one beer

    So, either give me the real deal

    Or give me a cup of tea

    Or coffee or water or juice

    Or whatever

    But don’t serve me fake booze

    fake fish

    fish market

    Every where in the world

    When you eat fish

    In a restaurant

    The restaurant owners

    Claim it is salmon or tuna

    Or other delicious fish

    But the sad reality

    60 percent of the time

    You are eating fake fish

    The fish may be fish

    Or may not be fish

    But if it is indeed fish

    It is probably tilapia

    Or some other cheap

    Bottom feeding scumbag fish

    Filled with toxins

    And possibly tape worms

    And other parasites

    And as you eat your delicious fish

    You are eating the fake fish

    And helping the fish industry

    Continue this con game

    But there is nothing you can do

    Except for catching your own fish

    And preparing it yourself

    So, when you eat fish

    Pretend if you must

    That you eating salmon or tuna

    While you eat your tilapia

    And pay the salmon/tuna premium price

    fake vegan meat

    When I go to a vegetarian restaurant

    I often encounter fake meat

    Often called mock meat

    Made out of soy beans, and other things

    And I wonder

    Why bother with the façade

    I mean if you are a vegan

    Be a vegan

    Don’t eat or make fake meat

    You don’t need it

    You really don’t like it

    And it is somehow

    just wrong to me

    So please no more fake meat

    No more tofu turkey for me

    Either give me my meat

    Or give me my vegan delight

     

    Fake coffee

    I used to be a big coffee drinker

    Had to have my four or five cups

    Of real fresh brewed coffee

    Not for me the weak instant coffee

    Of decafe coffee or herbal fake coffee

    But over time coffee caught up to me

    And now I can not handle the real deal

    And I am forced to drink decafe coffee

    Which is a kind of fake coffee to me

    Or herbal coffee

    Which is entirely fake

    Designed to taste like the real thing

    But without that caffeine kick

    That true coffee drinkers crave

    Since we are all caffeine addicts at heart

    Just need that rush to get going

    And keep going

    And the fake coffee

    Just does not do the trick

    And so, I am doomed

    To drink decafe coffee

    And fake coffee

    Missing my real cup of coffee

    Until the I enjoy the last drop

    Fake Food

    fast food

    in this world of fake things

    Nothing is more fake

    Than the food we eat

    Most of the fake food crap we eat

    Is nothing but chemicals

    And flavorings

    Added to a small amount

    Of real food

    All packaged and sold

    And marketed

    Scientifically designed to taste good

    So we eat the poisoned food

    And get sicker and sicker

    While the food industry giants

    Make obscene profits

    Selling us poison

    fake smiles

    photo of fake people laughing
    fake people laughing

    The old soul classic

    Smiling faces got it right

    “Smiling faces sometimes

    Pretend to be your friend

    Smiling faces show no traces

    Of the evil that lurks within (can you dig it?)

    Smiling faces, smiling faces, sometimes

    They don’t tell the truth

    Smiling faces, smiling faces tell lies and I got proof

    Oh, oh, yeah

    Let me tell you

    The truth is in the eyes ’cause the eyes don’t lie, amen

    Remember, a smile is just a frown turned upside down my friend

    So, hear me when I’m saying

    Smiling faces, smiling faces, sometimes, yeah

    They don’t tell the truth

    Smiling faces, smiling faces tell lies and I got proof

    (Beware) beware of the handshake

    That hides the snake (can you dig it, can you dig it?)

    I’m a-tellin’ you beware of the pat on the back

    It just might hold you back

    Jealousy, (jealousy) misery (misery) envy (envy)

    I…”

    Boy did the singer get it right

    In this world of fake things

    Where the market rules us all

    The art of the fake smile

    Has been perfected

    They say that many people

    Have mastered the art of the fake smile

    Where you smile

    and pretend to like someone

    your victim

    does not suspect

    that the smile

    is because you are thinking

    of stabbing them in the back

    oh yes in a world of fake people

    beware, beware of smiling faces

    fake friends

    In this world of fake things

    Where nothing is real

    Nothing is authentic

    And the market rules us all

    There is no room

    For real friendship

    We are all using each other

    To get ahead

    So we pretend to be friends

    All the time

    Plotting against our so called friends

    To get ahead

    The market rewards the most vicious

    Sociopathic values rule the market

    Friendship is for wimps

    And losers

    Those winners end up

    Alone all alone

    For they have no real friends

    But boy do they have real enemies

    For in this fake world of ours

    Perhaps hate is the one real emotion

    That has survived

    fake relationships

    In this modern world

    Where everything seems fake

    There are few genuine relationships left

    Most relationships are market driven

    How can this person help me

    In my career or in life

    What can I get from them

    How can I use them for my advantage

    And what do they want in return

    And we are all nothing but personal brands

    Competing all the time for the next gig job

    And  romance

    Has been reduced  to sexual lust

    And nothing more

    And few people want babies

    Any more

    Babies are expensive

    And limit your ability

    To compete for your next bed partner

    And being real, telling people what we really think

    Is usually a CLM – career limiting move so to speak

    So, everyone hides their true feelings

    And are resigned to living this fake life

    In a world filled with fake people

    I wonder if there are any real people left

    fake Jake

    Many years ago

    I proclaimed to the world

    I was Jake

    And I was not a fake

    But I was the real deal

    But over the years

    I too have become fake

    And yes Jake

    Is also nothing but a fake

    Fake  Souls

    In this hyper materialist era

    We find ourselves in

    Is there such a thing as a true soul?

    Or have we all become

    Nothing but fake souls

    The rights to our souls

    Long ago sold

    To the evil masters of the universe

    The secret programmers

    Of this cosmic video game

    We all live in

    And our dear leader

    Donald Trump

    Has a fake soul

    As he acts like he is robot

    Trying to fake real human emotions

    And usually failing miserably

    Fake Calls

    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

    Who ever 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

    That’s right, folks . . .

    Don’t touch that dial

    And I scream to the universe Just leave me alone

    Then the phone rings…..

    Walls Divide Us

    Walls

    Trump wants a wall

    Between America and Mexico

    A wall against the southern hordes

    A wall based on fear and hate

    A wall to make America safe

    A wall to make America great again

    And yet I wonder

    Will his wall fall

    Like the Berlin wall

    And the great wall

    And all the other walls

    They all failed

    All of them

    Walls divide us

    Walls make us

    Into different tribes

    Between the pure

    And the impure

    St Reagan

    Said Tear Down this Wall

    Will future Presidents

    Tear down this begotten wall

    Or will it become a tourist attraction

    Another great wall

    Against barbarian hordes

    sandwich choices

     

    Photo by Kaboompics .com on Pexels.com

    Choices

    There are so many choices to be had

    When ordering a sandwich

    What kind of bread

    What kind of meat or any meat

    What kind of cheese or any cheese

    Whether to have sprouts or not

    Whether to have a pickle or not

    Whether to go with a classic peanut butter

    And something sandwich

    I loved peanut butter sandwiches

    As a kid

    Peanut butter and sweat pickles were my favorite

    Peanut butter and banana is good also

    Peanut butter and strawberry jam

    What a delightful memory

    My current favorite

    Is a BLT with sprouts, avocado, and kosher dill pickles?

    Heirloom red tomatoes one slice per each half

    Avocado one half per each half

    One half pickle on each half

    Bacon cooked just right – well done but not black

    Sprouts and lettuce just right

    Timamook Yellow smoked cheder cheese

    On each half

    On Gluten Free bread

    with chipotle mayo

    And Dijon mustard

    Cut in half

    Truly a sandwich made in heaven

    And bacon makes everything

    Taste so damn nice

    And God if you are reading this poem

    You had better prepare them for me

    Or Heaven will not be worth it

    Does Satan serve BLT sandwiches

    I wonder

    Probably not

    Probably you become the bacon

    In his hell sandwiches

    published in Duane’s Poetree

    looking out my window

    Looking Out My Window

    In Incheon

    What did I see

    The neighboring apartment buildings

    Obscured by the April rains

    And yellow dust of early Spring

    And in the distant the mountains

    Aflame with spring colors

    Beckoning me outdoors

    Looking out my window

    In Oregon

    What did I see

    Green trees

    Silently watching me

    And the cats gamboling along

    Looking at me

    While I look at them

    Each wondering what sort of weird creatures

    The other is

    And who is the real alien species?

    In Washington DC

    Looking out my window

    What did I see

    I saw the squirrels in the trees

    And the peaceful trees

    Of Capitol Hill

    Near the seat of power

    Yet somehow

    I felt It all far away

    In Suburban Virginia

    Looking out the window

    What did I see

    I often looked out my window

    At the trees and the jungle

    In my back yard

    And heard the distant roar

    Of traffic on the busy suburban street

    As people rushed to get to the freeway

    In the early morning hours

    In Madrid Spain

    Looking out the window

    What did I see

    I looked out at our Spanish neighborhood

    Seeing the beautiful Madrid ladies

    Walking down the street

    Secretly admiring them from afar

    In Barbados

    Looking out the window

    What did I see

    The monkeys in the trees

    Looking at me

    Contemplating raiding my garden

    As soon as I went away

    In Seoul

    Looking out my window

    What did I see

    The neighborhood

    Alive outside my window

    For so many years

    In Seattle

    Looking out my window

    What did I see

    I saw the ever changing green

    Sea of trees

    that is Seattle’s true color

    The city is so lush and green

    And alive with life’s endless possibilities

    In Stockton

    Looking out the window

    What did I see

    The traffic moving

    Through the dense fog

    That often fell upon the city

    Obscuring everything in its embrace

    And growing up in Berkeley

    Looking out my window

    I saw nothing

    +But the dirt and trees

    And shrubs

    Of my ancestral home

    And felt nothing

    But loneliness

    And a desire

    To leave my home

    As soon as I grew up

    That is what I see

    When I look out my window

    Even to this day

    I see where I have been

    And wonder where I am going

    As I stare out the window

    Knowing that my life

    Will surely come to an end

    As I stare out at the world

    Waiting waiting waiting

    For my fate to unfold

    Watching three cats

     

    Watching three cats

    gamboling along

    Looking at me

    While I look at them

    Each wondering what sort of weird creatures

    The other is

    And who is the real alien species?

    three cats ready to go

    three cats

    at play

    they look out at the world

    and they are ready

    they are born hunters

    they are hungry

    they are restless

    and they want

    to escape

    from the house

    to chase birds

    squirrels

    and other cats

    That’s the cat’s life after all

    they tolerate us humans

    only because we feed them

    But at heart

    they are wild things

    and wild things

    need to be free

    Looking Out My Window at the Cat

    I look out my window

    On the parking lot

    And see the mad cat

    That lives underneath the apartment house

    And look out at the park

    Thinking of taking a walk

    The cat looks at me

    Kindred spirits perhaps

    Retired waiting to die

    Watching Cats Hunt

    Early morning

    Watching two white cats

    Hunting a white dove

    The cats hunt in pairs

    Tracking the bird

    The bird flies away

    Safe for now

    And I think about the cats

    And the hunt goes on

    Such is life

    And the fate of cats

    And birds

     

    I Often Wonder About Cats

     

    wonder about cats download

    I often wonder about Cats

    What do they think of us

    It seems at time

    That cats think of humans

    As their slaves

    We exist to feed them

    To comfort them

    To save them from their enemies

    And to worship them

    Yes cats are an alien species

    Totally different from humanity

    Detached, and almost evil

    If we ever encounter an alien civilization

    God help us if it’s a cat based civilization

    We would then be engaged

    In the epic mother of all wars

    As cats and humans would not get along

    The cats would think we were their slaves

    And we would resent and fear them

    And secretly worship their alien ways

    Cat Fight in Incheon

     

    Watching two cats

    Fighting alongside the sidewalk

    In suburban Incheon New Airport Town

    Completely indifferent

    To the humans walking around them

    And the humans were indifferent to the cats

    As they stood there fighting

    And screeching at each other

    One orange one

    One half black half white one

    Both middle age in cat years

    As I sat there watching the cats

    really getting into it

    I wondered what they were arguing about?

    But since I don’t speak cat

    I really didn’t know

    All I know is they were really screeching at each other

    And almost look like they were about to attack each other

    But one cat backed down

    As the other cat stood their proverbial ground

    If they were humans one would have pulled out a knife

    Or a gun

    And someone would have been killed

    But being mere cats

    They stared at each other

    And walked away

    but they kept glancing at each other

    So I knew the fight as not over

    Merely postponed until a later hour

    Cats truly are the aliens

    Who live among us humans

    Or perhaps we are the aliens

    Who live among the cats?

    Cat thought

    Watching the black cat

    Who lives underneath the building

    Slinking about

    looking for something to kill

    I am reminded once again the cats

    are not our friends

    as I stare at him

    an alien invader

    From another planet

    hangover reflections

    Hang Over Reflections

     

     

    bottles of korean liquor soju
    soju

    Last night a Korean friend from Virginia came for a two week visit He brought with him a 30-year Bottle of Ballentine whiskey.  Of course, we must drink it and then we must drink some soju

    well this morning I woke up with a hangover

    And thought about the contributions to world culture that Koreans have made. The perfect Korean hangover cure

    And of course, this morning I am in the middle of taking the cure

    The cure  consists of

    Lots of coffee

    Liquid Korean hangover medicine from the local convenience store or drug store

    Hangjanggu soup

    A walk

    Spending some time In the sauna soaking and sweating it out

    Then Later following Mark Twain sage advice that the only known cure for hangover is to keep drinking. That is the Korean Hangover cure And it works

    I had my first hangover at 16 when I was an exchange student for two weeks at a Navaho boarding school. Went out and got rip roaring drunk with the Indians They gave me an Indian name  “Ski dish Digest “which means “Crazy friend” And I have now had Almost 45 years’ worth of experience dealing with hangovers a hangover is god’s punishment for drinkers

    Today I wrote down the following  hangover poem which I will share, and I would love to hear your Hangover stories please post them below and I will share them

    Hangover reflections

    Hangover Gods Punishment For drinker

    A hangover is god’s punishment for drinkers

    Nothing more than that God’s way of punishing the drinker

    God’s punishment is severe for the sin of overdrinking

    Of course, the only known cure for a hangover is to keep drinking

    Very much need of a cure today

    Every day one has too much to drink

    resolve to quit drinking fill one’s head

    microsoft found poems

    Telco one

    not until 5:00 PM

    had objected

    lack of will

    come back

    and go to some of actor dinner

    will fix the car tomorrow

    and work on my appeal

    might work

    and the appeal

    denied me

    to get on the other headphones

    when we go to the own charm

    on Thursday

    will build

    and Costco tomorrow

    dictation is working

    but still funky

    but it will when it finally works

    watch and at the showboat

    Mr. Sunshine

    before taking all along

    that low energy

    back to two long flight

    stop dictation

    of up to the line

    microsoft dictation found poem four

    Green tree

    is in the Kingstown Property

    in Alexandria

    with her mother

    and are tended to Jeff

    my mother in the wall

    is berating jobs for some reason

    to handle

    and tell my mother to calm down

    as Jeff has a temper problem

    job is getting very angry

    Juppe pulls out a gun

    and serves the shooting of my mother

    the mall and should serve five or six times

    in the head

    my wife forays into a closet

    and Hans hoping that jobs

    will not find her

    and she wonders

    what would happen know

    that her mother

    in all my mother’s death

    and the she wonders

    what will happen

    because im not there

    at the time

    and she fears Jeff

    shooting in the wall

    and that is the end

    of the current in that age

    microsoft dictation poem three

    Inspection report

    meeting went well

    met with him

    only at age six

    G P silver in the damage

    is shown her

    the news from the rear

    and as well as shown

    for the termite damage.

    In the termite

    go we had been a UGS

    the basic questions of morality

    and using this statement

    denying them the answer

    most questions

    afterwards

    we went outside

    to take a picture

    although the front porch

    into I noticed

    there was something

    very strange looking

    at the front porch

    the pedestal

    on the front porch

    were quoted

    so he headed

    from facing the street

    and in from the street

    station house

    the fed is still on

    riding his meaning

    to the eye

    and that has left his leading

    to the left

    we noticed

    there were cracks

    in the forge:

    long the foliage

    including the crack

    on in the front door

    we also know

    is that the doors

    are at opening

    in the awkward men

    we also noticed

    a big crowd

    on the right side of the house

    on in the mist

    airways to the right baseline

    we took a look

    at the the souls in 141571413 1415

    that this is an old event in 1413

    left as to his meeting

    in Ford’s 111415

    in the right one

    is even for now

    we suspect that uses serious settlement issue

    in that the house is cracking

    on the house

    in the house

    is trying to balance

    its closing the porch

    this is just

    what left

    in the says

    this is a serious issue

    we are sending information

    to a lawyer

    asked his advice

    before we can’t turn our

    insurance for content and

    Rescinded the new

    we will go to the court

    has to figure out the procedures

    for the deal

    against the key man

    this evening

    I hope to do some writing

    style dictation

    microsoft found poetry poem two

    The painting went very well

    it looks much better

    it was a very hot day

    will vote by

    Microsoft trials dictation from:

    and submitted it to two journals

    and micro soft

    don’t expect a response from mike

    were shocked but had fun writing it

    will keep track of market conditions

    for a second from over tonight

    we’ll work on my problem

    for the interview

    and take a walk to trader joe’s

    two are home to worry:

    Aaron will start working on

    OK at the base of king too

    fast and the bees

    nonsense continue nonsense

    Iraqis problem number one

    priority right now but

    Things to do

    123

    OK now I get your attention

    I wanna go too sole

    and Endgo

    some and then being term

    and then USA

    and then Washington, DC

    and then Baltimore

    and then I wanna

    will be with the idea being done

    on the stand

    will be OK enough tomorrow

    I need to go to the house and 88 AM 988

    just 8:00 AM.

    The I am having a meeting with an array

    annually and aHer

    a OK on we’re going to talk

    to a jester of two

    come up with solutions

    we need to two fans

    and players

    repaid the painting repairs

    we are paying the bill

    from both the house we’ve passed,

    my treatment

    we had the somewhat tainted drywall fixed

    we have a new tenant

    rules being new tenant

    is a very good

    10

    I think

    are we were making

    very much you need to do better

    to stop of studies

    now me as Sarah

    Mr. Allen not an island

    is an error

    that have a need

    for an offense of offering Maisie’s

    backing separate

    from the public

    often salad

    End of the night

    of the committee

    of the ways

    to hire the answer you

    get a better

    microsoft dictation poem part two

    microsoft dictation poem part two

    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

    microsoft found poem one

    This is the first of five found poems based on Microsoft dictation trials.  I took the verbatim text filled with gibberish and put into poetic stanzas otherwise no editing.

    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

    bus ride across America

     

    Photo by Oleksandr Pidvalnyi on Pexels.com

    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

    Hitch hiking Tales

    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

     

    snarling cup of coffee

    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,

    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

    Life In Between

    Life In-between

    For years I have lived

    In-between two worlds

    Korea

    where my wife’s family comes from

    And the Bay area

    Where I grew up

    and the laidback progressive

    wild west coast

    and the cutthroat

    Dour eastern establishment

    Washington DC

    Where I worked for 27 Years

    And I live between

    My official duties

    And my desire

    To be a wild-eyed poet

    And life in-between

    Means you belong nowhere

    Yet are everywhere

    Always disoriented

    Always half lost

    Never really feeling you belong

    That is life

    Living in-between

    the light will prevail

    April 24,

    The Light Will Prevail

    Mrs. Which says

    This much we know for sure

    Despite the lateness of the hour

    And the growing power of the Dark Thing

    In the end, lightness will prevail

    Defeating the dark one

    Samonka for Angela

    I have dreamt of you

    For almost seven long years

    And now you are here

    What can I do about this

    The only thing to do love you

    You are all I want

    All that I need in this life

    Thank to all the gods

    For bringing you into my life

    From now to the end of time

    this poem was published in Teferet journal’s 2018 Poem-a-Thon.  Please see their webpage or Facebook page for all the great poetry.  Also, check out my poetry blog, Https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com for these and other poems.  Thanks, Jake

    62 Years Young

    I am 62 years young

    62 years around the sun

    37 of those years

    I have spent with the love of my life —

    dream girl

     

     

     

    I married the girl of my Dreams

    first dreamt of her back in 1974

    Eight years later

    she walked off a bus

    and into my life

    April 27 the darkness grows

     

    The Darkness grows

    On distant Comazotz planet

    The red eye one smiles

    It is satisfied

    The black thing is spreading

    All the way to earth

    this poem was published in Tiferet journal’s 2018 Poem-a-Thon.  Please see their webpage or Facebook page for all the great poetry.  Also, check out my poetry blog, Https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com for these and other poems.  Thanks, Jake

    It is God’s will they say

     

    It is God’s will they say

    It is God’s will they say

    The neo-fascists and their ilk

    It is the white man’s burden

    To rule the unruly masses

    To this I say

    Never again

    Will we let them

    Take over the world

    And lead us back to the dark dangerous days

    Of the Holocaust

    Or the 19th-century colonial era

    Never again

    Never again

    Until hell freezes over

    And the world ends

    Angela Lee

    Angela (Acrostic poem published in Whispers)

    Angela is my life

    No better friend in the universe

    Greatest Love of all

    Every Day I thank God

    Love of my life

    Angela My Soul Mate

    Love of my long life

    Everything I ever desires

    Everything I ever needed

    American Life and Death

    As American struggles

    To cope with the ever declining standard of living

    The 1 percent loved the stock market

    Love the dismantling of  the regulatory state

    The corporate tax cuts

    and the coming plunder of the land

    Can Disney Yellowstone be the future?

    As America declines

    Back to the future

    April 2 Heading Back to the Past

    While the rest of the world

    Embraces the energy of the future

    Our great denier of the truth

    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

    April 2 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

    that consumes our land

    haiku for angela

    Every day I wake up

    To the love of my long life

    And say Thanks to God

    thank god for angela poem

    Thank God For Angela

    Every day I wake up

    And see you there

    I thank God

    That he had the wisdom

    To send you to me

    To save me

    By bringing you into my life

    You are the sunshine

    That lights up the day

    You are reason

    I get up in the morning

    And you are reason

    I exist

    Without you I am nothing

    But dust blowing in the wind

    Waiting until death

    Takes me down

    siren song of doom

    The quiet dying swan song

    Arose out of the dismal swamp

    Through the fog shrouded woodlands of Zara

    Over the sweltering desserts of black tar

    Heading rapidly nowhere at all

    The quite sweat song of her mellifluous voice

    Echoing through the canyons of my fear

    Drawing me nearer and nearer

    I cannot resist the siren’s haunting melody

    Drawing me nearer and nearer to my doom

    My old friend self-fear cries out

    Time to escape while I can

    Yet I cannot resist

    I cannot escape

    All I can do is listen

    To the haunting enigmatic voices

    Of the siren’s sweat and sour music

    Blasting away my selfish fear

    Naked, alone I stand

    Proud in homage

    To my own gods

    Back in the swamp

    Wandering forever

    Until it seems I met you, yet again

    market rules us all

    The market rules all

    We are nothing but products

    The rights to us

    Have long been sold

    Bow down and worship

    The all mighty market

    Everything we do

    Everything we see

    Everything we are

    Nothing but our personal brand

    Nothing human left over

    Nothing authentic left over

    Nothing but lies

    Fake news

    nonsense

    The world does not care one whit

    About you and me

    As people

    It is all about the profits that can be made

    By exploiting our labor

    And once we are used up

    We become a liability

    And a burden

    If you have not made it to the top

    By age 55

    You are a loser

    And should be retired

    Forced to live out your life

    On your miserable pension

    As you wait to die

    No longer useful

    To the Masters of the Universe

    And true love

    Nothing but an illusion

    It is all about the sex, baby

    And how getting your baby

    Ahead at all costs

    Who cares about love

    It is all nothing

    But a second-hand emotion

    As the song puts it

    Love is nothing but a sexual commodity

    And we are all nothing but interchangeable

    Commodities in the marriage and love market

    And porno values rule the bedroom

    As we are nothing more than used body parts

    Who cares about friendship

    It is all about how they can use you

    And you can use them

    To get ahead

    True Love and genuine connections

    Cannot survive

    In this toxic soup

    Of the modern materialist world

    God and spirituality

    Nothing but a scam

    As our so call Christian Leaders

    Proclaim their love for you

    All they love is your donations

    And they too are part of the market

    Jesus if he ever comes back

    Will no doubt

    Be used to sell more goods

    As the right to Jesus

    Has also been sold

    love conquers hate

    They say that love conquers hate

    And that good always win in the end

    But sometimes I wonder about hate

    I always thought that my love

    For my wife would last forever

    Since I first met my love

    Love at first sight

    As the girl I was dreaming of for eight years

    Flew into my life with such brilliant light

    Our love burning as bright as a million stars

    Consuming us both in its brilliant flame

    As if our love were made of cosmic flames

    transplanted from the farthest stars

    But true love sometimes turns to true hate

    And what was wonderful on that first date

    becomes despicable over time

    What was once cute on that first date

    becomes disgusting as she become our mate

    What was once love at first sight

    Turns to darkness and resentment

    And then full-blown hatred

    And nothing but the darkest night

    And the light of a million stars

    Is replaced by a darkling night

    That consumes one’s soul

    I look at my wife every dawning day

    And see that light is still burning bright

    And the momentary darkness

    And yes, potential hatred is kept at bay

    By the brilliant rays of light

    Hatred, resentments dispelled yet again

    By the brilliance of our love

    That the million suns of love

    Are burning yet again

    And I pray constantly

    To all Gods on our mark

    that our love continues constantly

    And that our love will conquer the dark

    the truth does not make sense

    One morning

    I got up

    Hungry

    For something

    I knew not what

    I made breakfast

    Drank some snarling coffee

    And turned on the news

    And what did I see

    Talking heads

    Sprouting lies

    Nonsense words

    Gibberish

    Nightmarish phrases

    Nothing makes sense

    Politicians

    Sporting forth

    Spinners spinning spin

    Huskers hustling their hustle

    Selling me a bunch of goods

    And I did not want to buy it

    I scream

    My soul was not for sale

    And I listened hard

    Looking for the truth

    Noting but lies

    Coming out of hideous beasts

    Barking words

    Noise some noises and lies

    Snarling disgusting lies

    I sit there

    Transfigured

    Hypnotized by the overwhelming

    Stench of the bull shit

    Coming out of the TV set

    I stood up

    Smashed the TV set

    With my boot

    Trying to set myself free

    From its hold on me

    Men in black suits

    Surround me

    Put me on black helicopters

    Taking me somewhere

    I scream to no avail

    No one listens to me

    Just more noise

    Coming out of the TV set

    And I go out

    Into the dark night

    I was told

    I was suffering

    From a disease

    I was insane

    I could not longer

    Understand

    What was being said

    To me

    I asked my tormentors

    What is the truth

    They laugh

    Smiled with evil grins

    On their bloated faces

    They begin to torture me

    Because they could

    Forcing me to watch

    The President speak

    Over and over again

    Again and again

    The same words

    Black is white

    White is black

    The President is always right

    Freedom is an illusion

    Lies make you free

    And it dawned on me

    And I laughed

    As I escaped the programming

    Of the universe

    And I was free

    Truth and lies

    Are the same

    Everything are nothing

    But dangerous delusions

    As I jump out of the window

    Into the night

    I vowed I would

    See the President

    In hell

    As I die

    I am free

    Good God almighty

    Free of their lies

    At last

    Trump Our Great Compassionate Leader

    Quote the Donald Trump

    Our Great compassionate Leader

    Our Dear Leader, our Great Leader

    “Its disgusting to watch”

    As an elderly man falls down

    In front of him hitting his head

    And bleeding all over the nice marble floor

    During a charity dinner event

    At Margo Largo back in 2008

    And our compassionate leader’s first reaction

    Is to turn away not wanting to get the blood

    On his tuxedo or dirty his shoes

    Quote the Donald,

    “It is disgusting – The guy was bleeding

    all over the nice marble floor,

    I couldn’t, you know,

    he was right in front of me

    and I turned away.

    I didn’t want to touch him… he’s bleeding all over the place,

    I felt terrible. You know, beautiful marble floor,

    didn’t look like it. It changed color.

    Became very red.

    And you have this poor guy, 80 years old,

    laying on the floor unconscious,

    and all the rich people are turning away.

    ‘Oh my God! This is terrible!

    This is disgusting!’

    and you know, they’re turning away.

    Nobody wants to help the guy.

    His wife is screaming–

    she’s sitting right next to him,

    and she’s screaming.”

    And Donald the compassionate one

    Donald Trump the savior of humanity

    The greatest most compassionate person

    In the country

    Could not bother to lift a finger

    To help this elderly man

    Who could have died

    An old man who happened to fall down

    And possibly die ruining his great event

    Quote the Donald

    “I forgot to call the family

    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 wake up

    And force Donald Trump

    The great leader

    The dear leader of our country

    Out the door

    And take out the garbage

    From the WH

    Time will tell

    Time will tell

    In any event

    To quote the Donald

    “It is disgusting. Just disgusting.”

    PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED ON POETRY 24

    and Scarlet Leaf Review

    More Dental BLues

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    Have to go to the dentist

    For my twice yearly torture session

    In order to save my remaining teeth

    I must endure the never ending pain

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    I must have known over 100 dentists

    During my 61 years around the sun

    Some were good, some were great

    A few became friends

    A few became enemies

    All became richer

    From fixing my crooked no good

    very bad misbehaving evil teeth

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    All tortured me

    Saying it was for my own good

    To save my crooked wicked teeth

    My teeth are bad

    Wicked, misbehaving

    Rotten to the core

    And always have

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    I tried orthodontic braces

    As a child

    Gave it up as an adult

    Did everything except implants

    So many crowns

    So many root canals

    So many pulled teeth

    And partial dentures to boot

    So much dental work

    My teeth are gold plated

    Monuments to the dental artistry

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    A few dentists were exceptionally good

    A few exceptionally bad

    A few were crooks by and by

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    My current dentist is good

    He keeps the chit chat down

    Does not lecture me on his political views

    Imagine having a dentist praise GW Bush

    Or Trump taking your forced silence

    As acceptance of his right wing views

    Imagine a dentist talking endlessly

    About her children’s latest escapade

    While drilling away

    Assuming you cared

    When all you wanted

    Was to end the torture

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    And imagine a sexy dentist

    Or hygienist working away

    As you think of her in bed

    And can’t get that thought

    Out of you head

    As they drill and poke

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    Yes I have a love-hate relationship

    With dentists

    Can’t stand them

    Can’t stand the pain

    But they save my teeth

    And save my smile

    And so I forgive them

    One and all

    I have the dentist blues

    I have them bad

    cosmic Dog from Goa

    My final time with God

    Happened a year latter

    I was staying down in Goa

    With my wife

    Enjoying being with her

    After our reconciliation

    We stayed at the Taj Mahal Goa

    Living like Kings and Queen

    Just for a few days

    High up on a hill

    Overlooking the beach

    Every morning I went down to the beach

    And did yoga by the water

    While contemplating life

    And every morning

    I saw the same dog

    Not just a dog

    But a cosmic dog

    Filled with the divine spark of God

    And the dog recognized me

    And spoke to me and I knew

    That God was present once more

    In the face of the that cosmic dog

    Kindred spirit

    perhaps to the cosmic cat

    that had save my soul

    in Berkeley so long ago

    I told the dog everything

    And he just looked at me

    With those soulful eyes of his

    And I knew he knew that I knew

    That he was possessed by God

    God had sent him to me

    To make sure that I was on the right path

    That the reconciliation that God had promoted

    Was on track that I was back with my wife

    And that everything was the way it should be

    Again I asked God whether he was Jesus or Allah

    Or Brahmin or Ganesh or Buddha

    God the cosmic dog just stared at me

    I finally asked him directly

    Say if you are God the God of Jesus

    Bark once

    The Dog looked at me and barked

    I said well if you are Allah bark twice

    The dog barked twice

    Well are you buddha then bark three times if yes

    The god dog barked three times

    Hmm well are you Satan

    The dog growled at me

    And I knew I had gone too far

    Finally I was at peace

    And for the next three days

    The God Dog was my constant companion

    And I knew God for the final time

    In my life

    Cosmic Cat from Berkeley

    I next encountered the divine

    Many years later in Berkeley, California

    I had gone home to be with my Mother

    While taking leave from my job

    in the Foreign Service

    I had two weeks there by myself

    My wife came later

    near the end of the trip

    Every morning I woke up

    Had my coffee, and breakfast

    Did yoga while listening to music

    And looking out at the garden

    Then spoke to my mother

    Who was sliding into dementia

    Day by day losing her reason

    Then I would go out

    And explore the city

    Go to a museum

    Go to one neighborhood

    And just be there

    Rediscovering the Bay area

    After years of being away

    Having dinner with old friends

    Seeing movies etc

    Every morning a black cat came to visit

    The cat was friendly and waited for me

    And then would join me in my morning rambles

    Following me to the bus stop

    I stated talking to the black cat

    He looked at me with the spark of divinity

    In his dark eyes

    I called him the cosmic cat

    He seemed to like that

    He would look at me

    And I opened up to me

    Told the cat all my dark secrets

    As I walked the streets

    Of the old neighborhood

    Every morning and every evening the cat

    Would be there to greet me

    And to carry out our endless conversation

    Then I had to leave

    And in our final conversation

    I asked the cosmic cat

    Say, Cat are you just a cat

    Or are you a demonic cat

    Are you possessed by God

    Or by Satan

    The cat looked at me

    And I realized that God

    Was indeed residing in the cat

    But that god was residing everywhere

    All I had to do was open my mind

    And the rest would follow

    So I said Good bye to the cosmic cat

    And he purred and came up to me

    And I felt the comforting presence

    Of the divine spirit of God

    As I said goodbye to the cosmic cat

    And said goodbye to my mother

    As this was the last time

    That we would be able to really talk

    I told my mother about the cosmic cat

    She smiled and said that the cat

    was there for me and her

    to comfort us both in our hour of need

    and that the cat was indeed

    a cosmic cat

    published in Scarlet Leaf Review November 2017

    Meeting God in the Lake

    In my 61 years around the sun

    I encountered God four times

    At least I thought it was God

    But could never be sure

    The first time I met God

    I had taken magic mushrooms

    And had gone to a lake

    And soon was tripping inside my head

    Lost in inner space

    Zoning out tuning in

    Dropping down the proverbial rabbit hole

    And then in the middle of my madness

    I felt oneness with the universe

    My body melted away

    And I joined the universe

    All boundaries dropped away

    And I knew that the universe

    Was alive and I was part of the Cosmos

    And the Cosmos was part of me

    And I wondered at that moment

    If I was face to face with God

    I asked God to reveal himself to me

    And nothing happened

    Just laughter as the whole universe

    Burst into laughter

    And the madness began to fade

    And I slowly came down from the high

    And became aware of myself

    And I was no longer one

    With the universe

    I felt profoundly moved by the experience

    Felt that I had achieved perhaps nirvana

    Or felt the presence of God

    The feeling faded over time

    And I resume my quest to find God

    But knew that I would never again

    Come so close to the divine essence

    Of the very Universe

    published in Scarlet Leaf Review November 2017

    Because of You I’m in a Seattle Kind of Mood

    Because of you, I’m in a Seattle kind of mood

    When I look out my window

    And see the rain drops gently falling all around

    And I feel that special Seattle kind of chill

    In my bones

    I think of you with a Seattle kind of mood

    In the morning

    Wherever I am in this crazy world if I see raindrops

    Gently falling all around

    Blue mood dissolves in the rain’s gentle mist

    And I cry out with all my heart

    Because of you

    I am in a Seattle kind of mood

    As I walk down the street

    In distant foreign lands

    Whether I am in Bangkok, Taipei, Tokyo or Seoul

    New York, Moscow, Rome or San Francisco

    Whether I am in India, China, Thailand or Europe

    Whenever I feel the rain’s gentle embrace

    I get into that Seattle kind of mood

    Seattle, a Seattle kind of mood

    Fresh Salmon sizzling over a hickory smoke fire

    Ivar’s clam chowder

    And Red Hook Ale Pike place market

    Bums in Pioneer square

    And angry hippies preaching in Red Square

    Yuppies drinking downtown

    Geeks in Redmond

    Making the world safe

    For the Microsoft King

    And the Mariners loose again

    While the Huskies dream of Rose Bowls too come

    And ever where rain falling down

    oh yeah

    A Seatt1e kind of mood

    Because of you

    I get into that Seattle kind of mood

    In the morning

    As I fight the horrendous traffic

    And breathe in deadly, killer air

    I cough, cough, and remember

    The green, green air of Seattle

    And because of you,

    I get into that Seattle kind of mood

    Seattle, Seattle, kind of mood

    The Huskies are number one in my heart

    While the Mariners are always last in the nation

    But what the hell

    I’m in a Seattle kind of mood

    I sit in the International District

    Eating Dim Sum and drinking Ballad bitter

    Watching the crowds dodge the ever present rain drops

    Seattle Kind of mood

    As I wake up each day in crazy foreign lands

    I hear the falling raindrops calling me home

    Oh why did you leave me they cry out

    In a Seattle sort of voice

    Whispering in the gently falling rain

    Seattle, Seattle kind of mood

    And so my Dear

    Wherever I roam in this wide planet of ours

    From here to entreaty

    And beyond

    All the way to the red plains of Mars

    Whenever I hear the gentle patter of raindrops

    I’ll get into that Seattle kind of mood

    And dream of spending eternity with you

    Watching the Seattle rain

    Gently falling on our bumbershoots

    As we walk down the beach hand in hand

    Digging the gooey ducks while drinking Rainier Ale

    All because of you

    I’ll always be in the Seattle kind of mood

    Spring time in Oregon

    Spring has finally sprung in Oregon

    Escaping from the longer winter prison

    That has covered the land with snow

    They say that this winter

    Was a colder than normal winter

    Wetter than normal

    As the long drought finally ended

    As nature resumed its normal spring thaw

    I rejoice

    Seeing all the signs of spring

    Especially the sight of young beautiful women

    Shedding their winter clothes

    And walking about in the spring sunshine

    So wonderfully alive

    So beautiful and sexy

    As they sashay about

    Here and there

    It makes me smile

    All day long

    Yes I love Spring time

    Everywhere in the world

    But especially in Oregon

    My new found second home

    August Moods

    spring dodoitsu

    Waking up seeing you there

    Watching you as you wake up

    Fills me with such sweat desire

    Overcoming my mind

    I sit watching you all day

    Thinking of you all day long

    Wild erotic imaginings

    Love making to come

    That old blues song comes to mind

    I just want to make love to you

    I just want to make love to you

    Nothing more than that that

    I end this morning with this thought

    You are still the most wonderful

    The most beautiful creature

    In the whole universe

    spring time on capitol hill

    Sitting on a bench

    In Lincoln Park

    Heart of Capitol Hill

    Beating heart of the Empire

    On a warm Spring Day

    Watching the Cherry trees

    Watching Me

    Wondering what thoughts

    They must have heard

    The things they have seen

    Over the years

    But they are quiet

    They do not say a word

    As I fall into my spring time dreams

    Sitting on that bench

    Seeing the children and dogs play

    Looking at Spring flowers

    And pretty women

    As they stroll by

    Hearing the sounds of the city

    As I dream of my past life

    Memories of places and people

    I said to myself

    What a wonderful life

    published in writers’s newsletter

    falling rain

    The falling rain

    Of late October

    Fills me with essential dread

    As I rush about

    And end up here

    Wherever here is

    The rain outside

    Seems like the tears of god

    As I sit

    Crying over my beer

    Thinking of lost love

    And failed dreams

    Wondering

    What went wrong?

    And what I can set right

    And the rain falls

    And the night darkens

    The rain is falling

    All over this man’s world

    And the rain falls

    And I sit

    Drinking my lonesome drink

    Lost in dreams

    Dreaming of what

    Could never be

    Thinking dark thoughts

    And so I sit

    And dream the night away

    hurricanes from hell

    As I watch the endless coverage of the storms from hell

    Harvey, Irma, Jose and so many others

    It seems almost end of the world like

    As I sit on the smoky west coast

    With fires burning everywhere

    Thinking of the massive storms from hell

    Bearing down on the East Coast

    And the burning of the West Coast

    As the storms head to Margo Largo

    Winter home of our dear leader

    Threatening destruction

    The thought comes to mind

    Perhaps there really is a God

    And he is angry at us

    For destroying his world

    And I realize that God

    Has been sending us a message

    The end of the world is coming

    And I despair

    Thinking that we have an idiot in charge

    Of the United States Government

    As we face the storms of the century

    And the ever-growing threats of global terrorism

    Nuclear armed North Korea

    And global chaos

    What does our dear leader say to comfort us

    In our hour of need

    Nothing but political nonsense

    How great he is doing

    And how on top of things he is

    As the storms batter the country

    And the fires consume the west

    I realize that the earth

    Does not give a whit

    About what I think

    The world spins and spins around the sun

    The climate continues to deteriorate

    And mankind might be facing its darkest hours

    But we have the Donald

    And he will lead us through

    To the other side

    And so, I pray to the Donald

    For deliverance from the storms

    the fires burning everywhere

    the threat of nuclear war

    the end of the world

    fires burning Bright

    I look out my window in Medford Oregon

    at the unnaturally dark smoke-filled skies

    Seems almost like the end of the world

    Out here in the smoke-filled skies

    Of the west

    And realize that that the entire west coast

    Is burning up

    Quote the Donald,. “Give me clean, beautiful and healthy air – not the same old climate change (global warming) bullshit! I am tired of hearing this nonsense.”

    I consult the Donald for further wisdom and advice

    and find that this is what he had to say

    . “Well, I think the climate change is just a very, very expensive form of tax. A lot of people are making a lot of money. I know much about climate change. I’d be—received environmental awards. And I often joke that this is done for the benefit of China. Obviously, I joke. But this is done for the benefit of China, because China does not do anything to help climate change. They burn everything you could burn; they couldn’t care less. They have very—you know, their standards are nothing. But they—in the meantime, they can undercut us on price. So, it’s very hard on our business.”

    Ah it all makes sense

    Climate change is a Chinese hoax

    So, they can destroy the US economy

    Thanks to our dear great leader’s wisdom

    I am relieved

    And realize that it will all be alright

    If I just follow the wisdom

    Of our dear leader

    dental torture blues

    Sitting in the dental chair

    Undergoing dental surgery

    While the dentist probes

    And tortures me

    With his instruments of pain

    The Frank Zappa song plays over and over

    The torture never stops

    The torture never stops

    And I think of the mad dentist

    In Little House of Horrors

    The Jack Nicolson character

    Who screams Pain is good

    As he assaults his patients

    Doing root canals

    Without anesthesia

    And so, I endure the torture

    Of the dentist

    In the vain hope

    I can save my teeth

    Until the next time

    I undergo dental torture

    The song faces away

    And I slowly recover

    Then as I leave

    I am confronted with the bill

    And the song roars back to life

    The torture never stops

    the torture never stops

    masters of the universe

    The earth has been invaded

    By hideous blood sucking vampires

    Disgusting vile alien creatures

    Devoid of all compassion

    Lacking any human empathy

    These so-called Masters of the universe

    These psychopathic monsters

    Are everywhere

    They even took over the White house

    And to these vile creatures

    Everyone is nothing but a commodity

    These alien monsters

    Worship the god of the market

    While proclaiming that they serve Jesus

    Jesus would turn over in his grave

    To see these people in action

    The airlines in Florida

    Facing the worst hurricane in world history

    Decided that the expeditated thing to do

    The MBA approved thing to do

    The profit maximizing, screw the public thing to do

    Was to raise prices 600 percent

    Without prior notice charging 3,000 dollars

    Instead of doing the right thing

    The compassion thing

    The human thing of offering free flights to all

    These executives, these so-called Masters of the Universe

    thus, demonstrated that they are no longer human

    But greed driven monsters

    As are all the other soulless automatons

    Who have taken over the world

    Perhaps some day

    Jesus will come back

    And smite these motherfuckers

    Send them to the hell they so richly deserve

    We can only pray

    For our deliverance from such evil

    From the soulless evil masters of the universe

    Who have taken over the planet

    It Can’t Happen Here

    The pundits and talking heads

    The chaterati classes

    All assure us

    That it can’t happen here

    Fascism will never happen here

    Our democratic system

    Superior to all others

    Check and balances

    Power of the media

    Will prevent fascism

    From taking root

    In the American soil

    They laugh

    And talk amongst themselves

    And laugh some more

    Convincing themselves

    Meantime the darkness

    Continues to descend

    As our President becomes more erratic

    And frankly shows signs of insanity

    The fascists supporting him

    Gather strength

    And one day

    They strike back

    With furry

    When the powers that be

    Try to remove the President

    He mobilizes his army

    His army of deplorables

    And they mobilize

    And his fascist supporters

    In the government

    Demand law and order

    And restoration of the Leader of the people

    As they have started calling the President

    He comes back into power

    And demands

    Unspecified emergency powers

    And so, the cycle ends

    And fascism wrapped inside a Christian flag

    Comes to America

    Full vengeance

    As they take charge

    And the chaterati classes

    Are all arrested

    The first to be rounded up

    America has fallen

    The media stars

    All comply

    The leader is great

    America is great

    And all who oppose him

    Must be terror sympathizers

    Or Tersymps for short

    And deserve to be rounded up

    Public protests are forbidden

    Muslims must register

    Atheists must be fired

    Alt media is shut down

    The internet is censored

    And I weep

    As I see the once great American nation

    Descend into a fascist nightmare

    And I wait for the midnight knock on the door

    Knowing that I am on the list.

    Knock Knock knock

    Open up,  it is homeland security……

    Reflections on Turning 61

    Today I woke up

    And realized that I was 61 years’ old

    Felt that I had lived

    And almost died

    So many times

    I have challenged life

    And faced my fate

    And yet

    Through it all

    I am still here

    I am still here

    And that means something

    Something to me

    And something to the universe

    Yes, I am still alive

    And kicking

    And nothing is stopping me

    Yet still I wonder

    Still I wonder

    What does it all mean?

    Life began with you

    I first dreamt of Angela when I was but a lad of 17 living in Berkeley, California.  It was 1974 and life seemed full of possibilities in that magical year the tail end of the fabled 60’s.   I fell asleep that fateful day in a boring Physics class. I woke up seeing the most beautiful women in the world looking at me.  I was shocked and did not know what to say.  She spoke to me in a strange language but somehow, I knew that someday we were to be together. I just knew that I would meet the girl in the dream. It was love at first sight.  She disappeared and I fell to the floor yelling, “who are you?”

    Then I started having the same dream month after month for seven long years.  I had to decide where to go in the Peace Corps and chose to go to Korea because I knew she would be there.  I looked for her every day knowing that someday she would walk out of my dreams and into my life.

    Then one day I had the last dream.  She walked off the bus in front of me.  I was shocked did not know what to say and she smiled at me melting my heart away.  I got her number agreed to meet the next day.  She came to my class room and we talked at length.

    She was madly in love with me and she had to have me.  I told her I felt the same way.  We married two months later.  And that was the beginning of 35 years of happiness.

    When I first saw you

    Standing on the hot roadway

    I knew life began

    That was the end game

    The beginning of my life with you

    A journey with you

    love at first sight

    You were in my dreams

    appearing every evening

    for seven long years

    until one day I met you

    and that changed my life

    when you walked into life

    stepping out of the night time

    and into the light

    when you walked into life

    stepping out of the night time

    and into the light

    making everything so brilliant

    changing my life forever

    you are my angel

    You are my angel

    sent from God up in heaven

    to take me to life beyond

    one moment

    one moment, one day

    You walked out of that damned bus

    stepped into my life

    waking up to no you

    waking up to no you

    absent in my bed at night

    not absent from dreams

    thursday early evening

    thursday early evening

    thinking dark thoughs of you

    can you cure these thoughts

    Rapid CIty Nowhere

    Last summer

    We drove across the country

    Just the wife and me

    10,000 miles

    31 states

    Three months on the road

    I now know why people don’t live

    In South Dakota

    Hot, dry dusty

    Windy as hell

    Black Hills are nice

    But after seeing Mt. Rushmore

    There is not much left to do

    Rapid City did not impress me

    Nor did Sioux Falls

    And wall drugs

    Well the free water was nice

    But it is a nothing town

    In a nothing state

    On the edge of the badlands

    And the Sioux reservation

    There is a reason the Indians live there

    No one else wanted the land

    And they are warehoused there

    So I drove through Rapid City

    And thought that it is the heart of Trump Land

    The land of the forgotten

    The left behind

    Just another nothing burger of a State

    In the middle of nowhere

    Truly flyover country

    looking out my window

    I look out my window

    On the parking lot

    And see the mad cat

    That lives underneath the apartment house

    And look out at the park

    Thinking of taking a walk

    The cat looks at me

    Kindred spirits perhaps

    Retired waiting to die

    The Voice of My Doom

    walking deep in the woods

    high above the city

    near the airport

    I heard them

    then saw them

    hideous black crows

    looking at me

    cackling at me

    laughing at me

    mocking me

    calling me names

    I asked what they wanted

    they laughed

    and said

    nothing but your doom

    and they flew around me

    dive bombing me

    and surrounding me

    calling me names

    in Korean and English

    as I fled down the trail

    with the demon birds

    hot on my trail

    no more coffee blues

    Note: published in Eskimo Pie, HIll Magazine and other sites

    I love coffee

    Always have

    And coffee has loved me back

    But lately I have sourced 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

    Deeping under her influence

    I have the coffee blues

    Can’t live with our 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 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

    Imagining the end of the world

    I saw the four horsemen of the apocalypse

    Beckoning me to join them on their midnight ride

    Death, pestilence, plague and war

    They were ready to ride into the sunset

    Spreading their hate with them

    As they led the world to its foretold doom

    The end days were approaching they told me

    And their time was near

    I begged them to hold off

    To give us more time

    To work things out

    They laughed and said

    Time waits for no one

    We have a divine plan to work out

    You have been warned before

    And will be warned again and again

    But soon it will be time

    And we must do our duty

    To bring an end to this benighted world

    And fulfill our destiny

    And yours

    But for now

    We will let you sleep

    And let you prepare yourself

    For the time is near

    The end of the world is coming

    It is later than you think

    Soon soon the antichrist will come

    Uniting the world

    And leading the battles too come

    Before the end of the world

    And mankind ceases to exist

    Just dust in the wind

    Of a dead planet

    In a forgotten corner of an uncaring universe

    All part of God’s plan

    Lost and Found

    I was lost

    And you found me

    You walked out of my dreams

    And into my life

    And that made all the difference

    In the world

    As you entered my life

    I was all alone in this cruel world

    And you provided shelter

    And comfort

    I did not know what I wanted

    And you gave me what I wanted

    You gave me meaning

    You gave me purpose

    You gave me love

    And understanding

    peace and happiness

    Joy, laughter and fun

    You were endlessly fascinating

    Could not keep my eyes off you

    You were the most beautiful women

    In the world to me

    And you still are

    So many years later

    Like a fine bottle of wine

    Gets better with age

    And you gave me

    Endless nights of wild love making

    Which has gotten better

    As well

    And I fell under your spell

    from the day I met you

    I was lost

    And you found me

    And if you go first

    I will be lost again

    Can’t live without you

    By my side

    Thus is has always been

    Between us

    We are so entangled

    So interwoven

    And that is the way

    It was meant to me

    Ode to Coffee

    ODE TO COFFEE

    Published Hill Rag, Eskimo Pie, Coffee with Underwood

    Mistress of sacred love

    Sacred lady of desire

    You start my day

    Setting my heart on fire

    With your dark delicious brew

    And throughout the day

    Whenever the mean old blues come by

    You chase them away

    With your bitter {sweat} (sweet?) ambrosia{l brew}

    Every time I inhale your {witches brew} (witch’s brew)

    I am filled with power, light and love

    And everything is al 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 desert 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 sweat 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 gossips mills running

    Every great invention

    Was fed by coffee’s sweat 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 sweat 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

    Capitol Hill in the Springtime

    Capitol Hill in the Spring *

    *Published Writer’s Newsletter June 2017

    Sitting on a bench

    In Lincoln Park

    Heart of Capitol Hill

    Beating heart of the Empire

    On a warm Spring Day

    Watching the Cherry trees

    Watching Me

    Wondering what thoughts

    They must have heard

    The things they have seen

    Over the years

    But they are quiet

    They do not say a word

    As I fall into my spring time dreams

    Sitting on that bench

    Seeing the children and dogs play

    Looking at Spring flowers

    And pretty women

    As they stroll by

    Hearing the sounds of the city

    As I dream of my past life

    Memories of places and people

    I said to myself

    What a wonderful life

    the decline of America

    You see it everywhere

    The unmistakable signs

    That the decline of America

    Is in full swing

    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

    The future of mass transit

    Its proponents said

    The cost of rebuilding America mounts

    And our politicians are afraid

    That it will costs trillions of dollars

    Just to prevent the US from collapsing

    Into third world irrelevance

    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

    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

    Or will we embrace a progressive future

    With an economy that works for all

    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

    looking out my window

    Looking Out My Window

    I look out my window

    On the parking lot

    And see the mad cat

    That lives underneath the apartment house

    And look out at the park

    Thinking of taking a walk

    The cat looks at me

    Kindred spirits perhaps

    Retired waiting to die

    Rapid City Nowhere

    Incheon 2016

    I live in Incheon

    Part of the 3 million people who live here

    Mostly Koreans

    90,000 foreigners though live here too

    My apartment is next to a park

    And I walk almost daily in the mountains

    Loosing myself in the hills

    Overlooking the airport

    The town has lots of restaurants

    Places too go

    Things to do

    And the airport is next door

    Soon there will be a casino complex opening up

    As they turn this quite suburban village

    Into a Mini-Las Vegas

    Complete with a strip

    Can’t wait

    Going to Seoul is a snap

    50 minutes on the train

    And I am there

    Wherever I want to be

    Korea is turning out to be

    A good place too live

    So much better

    Than it was when I first arrived in 1979

    And it was grim back then

    Now it is the toast of Asia

    And for that I am glad

    Incheon

    Incheon 2016

    I live in Incheon

    Part of the 3 million people who live here

    Mostly Koreans

    90,000 foreigners though live here too

    My apartment is next to a park

    And I walk almost daily in the mountains

    Loosing myself in the hills

    Overlooking the airport

    The town has lots of restaurants

    Places too go

    Things to do

    And the airport is next door

    Soon there will be a casino complex opening up

    As they turn this quite suburban village

    Into a Mini-Las Vegas

    Complete with a strip

    Can’t wait

    Going to Seoul is a snap

    50 minutes on the train

    And I am there

    Wherever I want to be

    Korea is turning out to be

    A good place too live

    So much better

    Than it was when I first arrived in 1979

    And it was grim back then

    Now it is the toast of Asia

    And for that I am glad

    Lost and Found

    I was lost

    And you found me

    You walked out of my dreams

    And into my life

    And that made all the difference

    In the world

    As you entered my life

    I was all alone in this cruel world

    And you provided shelter

    And comfort

    I did not know what I wanted

    And you gave me what I wanted

    You gave me meaning

    You gave me purpose

    You gave me love

    And understanding

    peace and happiness

    Joy, laughter and fun

    You were endlessly fascinating

    Could not keep my eyes off of you

    You were the most beautiful women

    In the world to me

    And you still are

    So many years later

    Like a fine bottle of wine

    Gets better with age

    And you gave me

    Endless nights of wild love making

    Which has gotten better

    As well

    And I fell under your spell

    from the day I met you

    I was lost

    And you found me

    And if you go first

    I will be lost again

    Can’t live without you

    By my side

    Thus is has always been

    Between us

    We are so entangled

    So interwoven

    And that is the way

    It was meant to me

    Why I am Not A Christian Easter THoughts

    April 16 Why I am not a Christian Easter Thoughts

    On Easter Sunday, I often think about Christianity

    I don’t understand why anymore would believe such nonsense

    The essential story makes no sense

    An imaginary all powerful deity that no one has ever seen or heard

    Except for psychotic patients or Drug users

    Comes down to earth and impregnates a married woman

    Who has never had sex for some reason

    And her husband is okay with that

    Believes her wild story

    And still does not have sex

    Until after the baby is born

    Then there is total silence

    Nothing about Jesus’s childhood

    30 years later he emerges

    Preaching love, peace and brotherhood

    And denouncing the corrupt temple leaders

    And the Jewish leaders as well

    The miracles also don’t make any sense

    In the real world, you can’t turn fish into bread

    Can’t walk on water

    Can raise the dead etc. etc.

    Just does not happen

    In the world, we live in

    And has not happen since those ancient days

    Then the last supper makes some sense

    Jesus knows he is about to be betrayed

    But he does not confront Judas

    Does not run away

    Does not encourage his disciplines

    To run away with him

    The whole Jesus Mary M story

    Also, does not make sense

    Jesus must have been married

    Or he was gay

    There is no doubt

    Either way the story makes no sense

    The crucifixion is the only part of the story I buy

    Jesus was put to death because he was a rebel leader

    And the Romans tolerated no dissent

    To the Roman’s right to conquer and rule

    The rising from the dead stories

    All contradict one another

    And Jesus was either walking as a normal human being

    Or was a ghost

    The door was rent open as if by lightening

    Or not

    Finally, we have been waiting over 2,000 years for his return

    You would think if the story is remotely true

    He would have turned up by now

    Except he has

    As many lunatics claim to be Jesus

    in the flesh

    all delusional of course

    and that is what I think of Christianity

    nothing but fairy tales and mass delusions

    surrounding a kernel of truth

    Love one again

    Treat each other right

    Don’t be consumed with greed

    But couldn’t that message

    Be made simpler

    Without all the associated nonsense?

    So, on this day I say

    Open your minds

    And discard the nonsensical elements of Christian thought

    And follow the true teachings of Jesus

    Even if you don’t believe in the imaginary man in the sky

    Love Poems from Poem a Thon

    April 11 3 Am Nightmares

    3 am

    The bewitching hour

    When the wild things come out

    And play

    And torture you

    With endless wild accusations

    And nightmarish visions

    As I toss and turn

    Trying to escape

    I look over at my wife

    And as always

    Repeat the mantra

    Everything will be alright

    And the wild things are banished

    To the dark corners of my mind

    And I recover my happiness

    And I smile

    As I look at the sleeping beauty

    Still the most beautiful women in the world

    Still the most alluring women in the world

    Still in love with her

    After 35 years

    The love gets stronger and stronger

    As she overcomes my despair

    And the sun comes up

    And I think to myself

    What a wonderful life I have

    With the women of my dreams

    April 13 Spring Doositsu for Angela Poem a Thon

    Waking up seeing you there

    Watching you as you wake up

    Fills me with such sweat desire

    Overcoming my mind

    I sit watching you all day

    Thinking of you all day long

    Wild erotic imaginings

    Love making to come

    That old blues song come to mind

    I just want to make love to you

    I just want to make love to you

    Nothing more than that that

    I end this morning with this thought

    You are still the most wonderful

    The most beautiful creature

    In the whole universe

    April 14 Love Jones

    I got the Love Jones, baby

    And it won’t leave me alone

    I got the Love Jones, baby

    And it won’t leave me alone

    I’ve been writing these love poems

    All day long

    And I have been dreaming

    Of all the ways, I could make love

    To my secret lover

    If only she will let me be

    If only she will open her heart

    And let me in

    Perhaps the love Jones

    Might leave me along

    But I got the love Jones

    Bad baby

    Can’t you tell?

    That the love Jones

    Has grabbed my Soul

    Twisted it up into little pieces

    And I need you

    To unravel the Love Jones

    I need you to answer the call

    Of the Love Jones Baby

    I need you

    To let me be free

    Of the spell

    Of the Love Jones

    I got the Love Jones

    Baby

    I got it bad

    And only you can

    Put a stop to the love Jones

    Baby

    Let me enter your life

    Put out the fire of desire

    Send the Love Jones packing

    And let me make sweat love to you

    Oh, Love Jones

    Go away

    Let me be in peace

    Love Jones

    Leave me be

    Baby

    I got the love Jones

    For you

    Can’t you see?

    What you do to me?

    I got the Love Jones

    Baby and it ain’t going away

    Until I get to make love to you

    Then perhaps this Love Jones

    Will leave me be

    Love Jones

    NIghtmares from poem a thon

    April 11 3 Am Nightmares

    April 12 Zombie Apocalypse

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    Everywhere zombies galore

    The end of the world had become

    And the zombification of the world had begun

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    No one knew when or where the first zombies appeared

    One moment zombies were just a collective figment of our deranged imagination

    The next moment we were all living in a zombie apocalypse nightmare

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    Some said the zombies were created in a lab

    Released by mad scientists and the military

    Others said it was plague sent by God himself

    To punish mankind for tolerating evil and moral depravity

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    The Christians and Muslims prayed

    But their prayers went unheard

    As they too soon became zombies

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    The zombies hunted in packs

    Overwhelming their victims

    Killing most instantly

    But some they simply bit

    And turned them into fellow zombies

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    The zombies did not attack one another

    They preferred living live flesh

    Human flesh but they ate everything they saw

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    And so, I ran into the countryside

    With my fellow humans

    Hit out deep in the woods

    Hiding from zombies

    And crazed cannibal gangs alike

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    The world ended that day

    And our nightmare world began

    Zombies to the right of me

    Zombies to the left of me

    Zombies ahead of me

    Zombies behind me

    Trumpian Nightmares

    April 2 Walls

    April 9 Pane e circus 2017 Redux

    By order of his excellency

    Emperor Donald the First

    The merciful,

    the Christian King of Kings

    The Sultan of Sultans

    The Emperor of North America

    Be it hereby decreed

    That the ancient honorable gladiator games

    Of the old Roman Empire

    Have been restored

    Each city in the Empire will host a team

    They will compete for the honor

    Of the national championship

    The games will start

    With fighting animals

    Fighting fish

    Roosters

    Cheetahs

    Tiger

    Bears

    Wolves

    And lions

    Then a man lion contest

    With a heretic thrown to the lions

    If he or she lives

    They will be pardoned

    Then then main games

    Six men/women teams compete

    Armed with swords, knifes, mace, clubs

    They fight until one man or women remans

    The victor of the game

    Those who are prisoners

    Can compete for their freedom

    And a full imperial pardon

    Let the games begin

    Long may the games reign

    In the new North America Empire

    Praise be to the Emperor

    Donald the First

    April 10 Long Live Emperor Donald the Ist

    Ladies and Gentlemen

    My fellow American citizens

    Greetings and salutations

    Today is a momentous day

    The old corrupt USA republic is no more

    The constitution that once protected us

    Has been overthrown and violated

    The barbarians at the gate

    Have taken over

    And ruined the once great land

    The last hope of the world

    And so, I had no choice

    But to kill the old rotten regime

    And restore American greatness

    To save democracy

    I must destroy it

    And so, starting today

    I will serve as the Emperor of North America

    I welcome Canada and Mexico

    And the Caribbean islands

    To join The North American Empire

    As we rebuild America

    Restoring American greatness

    And making us all proud again

    Proud subjects of the New American Empire

    May the Empire reign forever and a day

    Triumphant against all enemies

    And so, I take this burden

    Sadly, but gladly

    I will serve you

    As your Empire

    And my son Donald

    Will serve as our second emperor

    Once I pass from this world

    His son will serve as the third emperor

    And so on until the end of time

    And we will reign in our new capitol city

    Colorado Springs

    Until the end of time

    Washington will remain in our hearts

    As the capitol of the old Republic

    But the heirs of the Roman Empire

    Need a new Imperial Capitol

    And soon we will conquer Mars

    And expand our Empire to the Starts

    Long Live the Empire

    Long Live America

    Good night

    And may God Bless

    This great Empire

    Cats fpr poem a thon

    April 7  Watching Cats Hunt

    Early morning

    Watching two white cats

    Hunting a white dove

    The cats hunt in pairs

    Tracking the bird

    The bird flies away

    Safe for now

    And I think about the cats

    And the hunt goes on

    Such is life

    And the fate of cats

    And birds

    April 19 Cats

    Cats

    I often wonder about Cats

    What do they think of us

    It seems at time

    That cats think of humans

    As their slaves

    We exist to feed them

    To comfort them

    To save them from their enemies

    And to worship them

    Yes, cats are an alien species

    Totally different from humanity

    Detached, and almost evil

    If we ever encounter an alien civilization

    God help us if it’s a cat based civilization

    We would then be engaged

    In the epic mother of all wars

    As cats and humans would not get along

    The cats would think we were their slaves

    And we would resent and fear them

    And secretly worship their alien ways

    wagontire oregon for poem a thon

    April 6 Wagontire, Oregon

    1973

    In 1973, I went on a road trip

    With my father

    We left Berkeley to go to Yakima

    Where my father had a summer cabin

    He was a college professor

    And had July and August off

    And we spent the summers

    Every summer from 1968 to 1978

    Our whole dysfunctional family

    Our annual road trip to hell and back

    As we did not get along at all

    We decided to drive through Eastern Oregon

    Just my father and me

    Just for the hell of it

    The rest of the family was already there

    My father and I shared a travel lust

    One of the few things we shared

    This was one of our best trips

    We got along

    Which was unusual

    Normally our relationship

    Was fraught

    As we were so different

    We left Klamath Falls

    A real nothing burg in those days

    And headed east along highway 395

    As we entered the desert of eastern Oregon

    We entered a different world

    High mountain dessert

    Almost no one on the road

    Then we saw the sign

    Wagontire Oregon

    100 miles ahead

    99 miles ahead

    98 miles ahead

    We counted down the signs

    Miles after miles

    As we drove into the gathering dusk

    We speculated that Wagontire

    Must be a giant truck stop

    In the middle of no where

    We pulled into the town

    Nothing there but a gas station

    Motel and café

    We decided to stop

    Last gas for 100 miles

    According to the highway signs

    In the morning

    We chatted with the owner

    He was the sheriff, the fire chief

    The owner of the motel, gas station

    The only business in town

    And the only place open

    For one hundred miles

    I noticed a highway sign outside

    Welcome to Wagontire, Oregon

    Population 2 ½ humans 10 dogs, 50.000 sheep

    I asked the Sherriff

    Say who is the ½ human?

    My idiot son!

    And we left.

    200 miles later

    We finally left Eastern Oregon

    2016

    In 2016 my wife and I drove through Eastern Oregon

    As part of our epic cross country trip

    10,000 miles

    31 states in three months

    On the way from Medford to Yellowstone

    We drove along highway 395

    The signs for Wagontire was gone

    And we drove through the town

    The motel was abandoned

    Nothing there at all

    And that sign was gone too

    I said I suppose the idiot son

    Never took over the business

    And we speculated about Wagontire

    And all other nothing burgs

    We drove through that summer

    Heart of Trump’s America

    True fly over country

    more poem a thon poems

    April 2 Walls

    Trump wants a wall

    Between America and Mexico

    A wall against the southern hordes

    A wall based on fear and hate

    A wall to make America safe

    A wall to make America great again

    And yet I wonder

    Will his wall fall

    Like the Berlin wall

    And the great wall

    And all the other walls

    They all failed

    All of them

    Walls divide us

    Walls make us

    Into different tribes

    Between the pure

    And the impure

    St Reagan

    Said Tear Down this Wall

    Will future Presidents

    Tear down this begotten wall

    Or will it become a tourist attraction

    Another great wall

    Against barbarian hordes

    April 4 Changes

    I reflect upon my life

    As the sun comes up

    What could I have changed

    What would I have changed

    If I could go back in time

    What would I tell my earlier self

    What would I do differently

    And what have I learned

    The one thing

    that I would not have changed

    is meeting the women of my dreams

    the chance meeting on a bus

    that changed everything

    in a moment

    I met my fate

    That day on the bus

    And that is the end of the story

    April 5 Facing Life’s Challenges Together

    Woke up at 0 dark hundred

    Vowing to boldly go forth

    And face the challenges of the future

    Without fear

    Knowing that I have you there

    Makes all the difference in the world

    As we meet our fate

    Together

    Until the day we die

    Poems for April Poem a thon

    Poems by Jake Cosmos Aller For Poem a Thon 2017

    JOHN (“JAKE”) COSMOS ALLER is a

    April 1 Berkeley California

    Growing up in the 60’s

    In Berkeley almost 50 years ago

    I think back

    At those turbulent times

    Those crazy wonderful times

    Berkeley is a wonderful place

    In many ways

    Stuck forever in 1967

    A true time travel experience

    Every time I go back

    And relive the memories

    Of the 60’s

    The 60’s never died

    They continue

    In college towns

    Across the world

    And Berkeley

    Remains the mecca

    Of the counter cultural revolution

    Many things have changed

    But the organic food revolution

    Became mainstream

    Marijuana spread out

    The sexual revolution

    Became mainstream

    So much of the world

    Is but a reflection

    Of the revolution of the 60’s

    And the conservative counter-revolution

    That we are still fighting

    So, I salute

    My homeland

    Berkeley

    The center of my universe

    April 2 Lithia Springs

    Staying at Lithia Springs

    Soaking in the healing waters

    Soaking my pains away

    Renewing my life

    Renewing my love

    As we both soak away

    As the pain of life go away

    And our love grows

    With each soaking session

    Life is good

    At the hot springs water

    Sooths us and smooth us

    And we fall in love

    Again and again

    Ghosts from World War Two

    12-17 2013 5 am

    I am walking through a crowded rural trail in rural France.  With a start I realize I am walking through a world war 11 graveyard. The graves have released the dead and the dead are walking trying to communicate but they are merely ghostly images of the dead soldiers.  Millions of them lost wandering about and when they see me they beseech me to help them find their lost loves and I tell them that I cannot help them that they are dead and then they cry and the anguished sounds of the dead and dying soldiers fill the air and the room is filled with the sounds and terrors of the long ago battle.  The scene shifts a bit and I am marching into battle with them before they had died and realize that the end is coming but there is nothing I can do but watch the coming of death and watch with horror the death of my new best friends.  Then the scene clears the ghosts smile and say, “see that’s what happened to us.  Please tell the world to not do this again.  Please end the war everywhere. Please Please Please… “And I promise and wake up feeling that I had made a commitment but to whom and what I knew not.

    Ghosts from World War Two

    12-17 2013 5 am

    I am walking through a crowded rural trail in rural France.  With a start I realize I am walking through a world war 11 graveyard. The graves have released the dead and the dead are walking trying to communicate but they are merely ghostly images of the dead soldiers.  Millions of them lost wandering about and when they see me they beseech me to help them find their lost loves and I tell them that I cannot help them that they are dead and then they cry and the anguished sounds of the dead and dying soldiers fill the air and the room is filled with the sounds and terrors of the long ago battle.  The scene shifts a bit and I am marching into battle with them before they had died and realize that the end is coming but there is nothing I can do but watch the coming of death and watch with horror the death of my new best friends.  Then the scene clears the ghosts smile and say, “see that’s what happened to us.  Please tell the world to not do this again.  Please end the war everywhere. Please Please Please… “And I promise and wake up feeling that I had made a commitment but to whom and what I knew not.

    Everything Will Be All Right, Everything Will Be All Right

    12-12-2013 4:30 am

    In the midst of my gloomy thoughts

    Of the endless nightmare

    Of my endless despair

    I looked over

    And saw my wife

    Sleeping peacefully away

    And I hugged her

    And felt something stir in me

    I heard an angel’s voice

    Saying “everything will be all right, everything will be all right”

    And then I saw her wake up

    Smiling at me

    And a chorus of angels filled the room

    Singing “everything will be all right, everything will be all right”

    And I smiled

    And she went back to sleep

    The angelic chords faded away

    And the darkness that had infected my soul

    Began to recede back into the dark corners

    From which it sprung

    And I smiled

    And chanted alongside the angelic choir

    Everything will be all right

    Everything will be all right

    And I knew it would be

    As long as I had her by my side

    And I smiled

    And got up

    Knowing that I had defeated

    The darkness once more

    And I was ready

    To face the dawning day

    Everything will be all right

    where do you and I begin

    I woke up one day and realized

    I no longer knew

    where you and I began

    and where you and I ended

    we had become almost one

    We talked in half sentences

    Knowing what the other wanted

    and knowing how it would end

    We ate the same foods with some resistance

    because I still crave an old fashioned American meal

    but still we were becoming more and more the same

    and I was scared of loosing myself

    In your embrace

    and becoming you

    and you becoming me

    and this fear of losing me

    in the ocean of us

    overwhelms me at time

    but I know that I will always

    Return to your arms

    because I cannot live

    A moment without you at my side

    and I know you are the same

    we feel each other’s inner pain

    we feel each other’s outer pain

    and our history has merged

    into one

    and is that the secret

    of a long marriage?

    Have I figured it all out

    in the end does it come to this?

    a merging of two souls and two bodies?

    I don’t have the answers

    But I don’t have any more doubts

    or regrets at the path I have taken

    I still look forward

    to waking up each

    Seeing you there

    and knowing that everyday

    we have together

    is a gift that I will cherish

    Until my dying breath

    The Storm is Coming

    The Storm is Coming

    January 3, 2012

    I see a dangerous storm brewing in America

    I hear the dangerous creeping sounds

    I see on TV

    The grinning masses

    The lies

    the politicians dancing on the grave

    of freedom

    I fear the growing power

    The power of the intolerant ones

    The power of their mightily wave

    the coming of fascism

    the coming of neo-Hitlerism

    The coming of war

    To consume us all

    This time

    No one will save us

    from the evil that surrounds us

    God they say is on our side

    and the darkness gathers hold

    the evil slips out

    The madness begins again

    and those who see the light

    those who know the right

    and drowned out by the might

    Might makes right

    In the end

    Does it matter

    as slavery descends upon us all

    the 1 percent have their revenge

    The rest of us don’t matter

    We are mere cogs

    In the wheel

    and always have

    and always will

    That is God’s will

    and who are we to disagree

    with the word of God

    and so I and my fellows

    are marched off to our doom

    resistance is futile

    resistance is futile

    resistance is futile

    Chains that Bind Us

    I realize that my love for you

    Is like a chain of steel

    Unbreakable

    Tough as nails

    and yet as your love entangles me

    I realize that I embrace my imprisonment

    and don’t want to venture out of my cell

    Made of our years together

    bit by bit we have become entangled

    Where I end and you begin

    Hopelessly enter tangled

    Even if I wanted to break free

    I could not

    For I am you and you are me

    and my fate is in your hands

    and so I relax

    and decide to just

    Enjoy the ride of my life

    as we move towards the final moments

    together as we have always been

    Inseparable, merged into one being

    Starting at each other

    wondering who is that person

    Of eternal mystery

    That has so captured my soul

    and imprisoned it in her love

    And I smile thinking of your love

    and the endless pleasure it has brought me

    and the endless pain that I have endured

    Just to be next to you

    and part of you

    Until the day I die

    and we meet in the next world

    Eternal Love

    I woke up

    And jumped out of my bed

    And stared out wildly

    Into a strange new environment

    Into the middle of it all

    There it stood

    A carbon copy man with no heart

    Starting down the freeways of my mind

    What the Hell can I find

    For years and years

    All I can do is cry

    For months and months

    All I can do is curl and die

    Then overnight

    A vision of radiant beauty

    Awoke me from my stupor and drunken bum shows

    The vision of my possible future

    Was you

    My love, my life and my dreams

    All I knew I knew alone

    All I can do is love you till

    The end of time

    Darling, My Love of My Life

    Darling, My Love of My Life

    How much pain I feel today

    Because you are in pain

    I cannot rest, cannot sit still

    All I can do is worry and think

    What will I do

    If God takes you away from me?

    What would I do without you by my side?

    I cannot live without you

    You have to be there by my side or in my heart

    forever until the day I die

    I will not live without you

    This world is so cruel and mean

    I need someone like you

    By my side to fight the battles

    And encourage me to stand up

    And be counted

    I have learned so much

    Watching you

    You never back down

    Never give up

    And you win in the end

    With your unique mix of charm, guile and

    Iron will have hidden within a velvet glove

    Clearly someday you will become

    One of the Masters of the World

    And I will be there by your side

    Your love, your confident and your greatest

    Fan of all

    I need you by my side

    Forever and a day

    Say you will be mine

    And I will die a happy man

    If you die before I do

    My life would end

    In a pit of utter despair

    So get up

    Fight the good fight

    And live again

    Fate Intertwined

    It was many a year ago

    Eye 15 years ago

    That I was born again

    When I met the love of my life

    Who took away my sins, my fear

    And my self-doubt

    And I began an adventure

    That has not ended

    Together we have moved

    Down the path of Life

    And together we shall move on

    Forever and a day

    Our souls intertwined

    Our fates bewitched together

    Forever more

    My love

    My hope, my dream, my eternity

    Our Romance Begins

    When I met the girl of my dreams

    On a bus in South Korea

    I was speechless.

    I did not know what to do.

    Over the course of the evening

    I ran into her several times.

    Finally, I was introduced to her.

    I muttered some lame excuse

    About wanting to find a Korean tutor,

    and got her number.

    The next day she came to the gate of my base.

    Where I was teaching ESL to Koreans

    She said that she had to speak with me.

    I told to wait in the library for about an hour,

    and I would cancel class

    and meet her then.

    We went out for coffee.

    She told me that she was madly

    in love with me

    And simply had to have me.

    I told her I felt the same way.

    I proposed five days later,

    And got married one month later.

    Does she believe this story?

    She claims she does not believe it

    Because it is impossible to be true.

    But I know that there are other worlds

    And other times.

    In a past life we must have been together somehow.

    And our love was so strong

    That it crossed over the barrier of past lives.

    She found me in 1974,

    But it took until 1982

    For us to actually meet

    The Story of How We Met

    It all began in Berkeley, California

    In the spring time of 1974

    One fateful afternoon

    I was dozing in my high school

    Physics class.

    I looked up and saw

    A tall, beautiful Asian woman

    standing looking at me.

    I screamed out,

    Who are you?

    She disappeared

    like she was beamed away from my dream.

    I knew that someday I would meet the girl

    In the dream

    Little did I know

    I would have to wait until 1982

    Starting that month

    I began having the same dream

    Month and month and month.

    Always the same.

    She was saying something

    To me in a strange language.

    Then one day I had the dream

    and knew that she was in Korea.

    So I chose to go Korea

    In the Peace Corps,

    Somehow knowing

    That I would meet her there.

    That morning early in the morning

    I had the last of these dreams.

    This time I understood her.

    She said, “Don’t worry.

    We’ll meet soon.”

    That evening

    As I was getting off the bus

    To go to my class

    I saw getting off the bus

    The girl in my dream.

    It was she!

    Red Dawn Over the New Empire

    RED SUN DAWNING OVER THE NEW EMPIRE

    The dawning sun raises bloody red

    Over the traffic clogged streets

    And noxious polluted air

    Of the capital of Imperial America

    The sun with its bloody red glare

    Reminds me of all the people who died

    This last year in Emperor’s Bush’s Three Wars

    We are the American Empire

    We are the power, we are the power

    We are perfect masters of the universes

    And will remake the world in our image

    In the so-called war against Evil

    The invasion and occupation

    Of foreign lands

    Because our leaders say

    They might, someday be a threat

    And the old words of ancient Rome

    Comes to mind

    Carthage must die

    Baghdad must be destroyed

    The heart of the evil empire

    Must be invaded

    And the evil of Saddam must be expunged

    So our great and glorious leaders

    Proudly proclaim

    Every day every moment

    On the conservative media

    Now owned, operated and controlled

    By the powers that have taken over

    The shadow government that runs

    The New American Empire

    And soon the entire world

    Will be under its sway

    We are the American Empire

    We are the power, we are the power

    We are perfect masters of the universes

    And will remake the world in our image

    We still have some freedom left

    Some space to rant and rave

    And grumble

    But soon, oh so soon

    This paper and that paper

    And this internet site and that site

    And this TV station and that TV Station

    Will be shut down

    In the name of national security

    We are the American Empire

    We are the power, we are the power

    We are perfect masters of the universes

    Spin Masters

    SPIN MASTERS SPINNING AWAY THE DAY

    Every moment

    I turn on the TV

    What do I see

    Nothing but liars laying down lies

    Spin Masters spinning spam of deceit

    Chanting

    The truth will set you free

    White is black

    Black is white

    Lies are true

    Truth is a lie

    Lies will set you free

    I see nothing

    But politicos

    Dropping down lies

    UN truths masquerading as the truth

    Oh so sincerely

    The lies spew forth so sweetly

    From their corrupted lips

    The toxic wastes

    Spree out of my TV set

    Infecting my soul

    With paranoid distrust

    And I vainly try

    I do try

    God do I try

    To the find

    The nugget of truth

    Buried deep in the dark, dank, dangerous

    Black, evil miasmic mists

    Given off

    By the talking heads on TV

    So I leave my house

    So full of doubt

    And wander about

    Looking for the truth

    Some semblance of hope

    And I look up

    And see a solitary cherry tree

    High up on a hill top street

    Infusing the air

    With its sweat ambrosia

    And I smile

    Knowing

    Someday soon

    The national nightmare

    Will be pierced by the light

    Of clarity and truth

    And the evil ones

    The body snatched aliens

    Inhabiting our leaders

    Will be banished

    Long Live the Great and Powerful

     

     

    Night scene with the Cthulhu monster with wings standing on the shore of a sea. 3D render.

    While walking in the misty morn of yore

    One dismal dark decaying depraved day

    I was suffocating with the sounds of the dying city

    Slowly coming to life with the dawning sun

    Surrounded by the sounds of chaos, disorder

    Dark, dangerous despairing thoughts

    Of dangerous terrible acts to come

    All around me in this strange era we live in

    This orange alert perpetual fearful times

    Constant fear, and overwhelming dread

    Mad crazed Islamic bomb throwing terrible terrorists

    Hiding under every bed, lurking around every corner

    Conspiring with the murderous criminals of yore

    Just waiting to attack god fearing Christian citizens

    Murdering them in their sleep

    Blowing up schools

    Blowing up buses, cars, buildings

    Murdering in the name

    of their demented god

    Screaming God is great

    as they behead us all

    As I walk down that street

    In the dead calm of the early morn

    Filled with fulsome fears of who know what

    I look up and see a giant gargoyle

    Looking down at me

    Smirking at me, laughing at me

    I yell out to the gargoyle

    Say, Mr. Gargoyle

    What is so damn funny

    Don’t you know there is a terror alert

    Have you seen any Islamic terrorists lurking about?

    The gargoyle laughed and laughed

    Said, terror alert?

    What a loud of crap

    As the prophet,

    Mr. Natural taught us all,

    “It don’t mean shit;

    it don’t mean shit”

     

    Nothing but prime BS

    Designed to keep you in your place

    He laughed and laughed

    Soon all the gargoyles of the city

    Were in open revolt

    They jumped off their perches

    And started marching around

    Chatting

    Peace is War, War is Peace

    Truth is a Lie, lies are Truth

    The Truth Will Set You Free

    All Hail the Great and Powerful One

    1. Brother, Keep Preaching

    Sao Paulo, Brazil, January 07, 2009. Man evangelical preacher explains God’s Word in Se Square in downtown Sao Paulo
    Sao Paulo, Brazil, January 07, 2009. Man evangelical preacher explains God’s Word in Se Square in downtown Sao Paulo

    Two black soul brothers

    Standing on the corner

    In front of Metro center

    On a Friday night

    In the heart of the new evil empire

    The center of the beast

    Hell Central

    Preaching the word of god

    The news of the end of the world

    The proverbial end times

    Were upon us and coming soon

    The commuters, workers and bemused tourists

    Walk on by the preacher men

    Some pay attention, most walk on by

    They did not want to hear

    They did not understand

    And the preacher man kept

    Preaching the word of god

    And no one paid any attention

    None at all

    God is going to punish us

    God is coming soon

    To punish the wicked and the evil

    And to set things right

    God is going to punish the U.S.

    For its arrogance, hubris and hypocrisy

    For its greed and evil

    Disguised as saving the world

    From the evil ones

    God is coming, oh yeah he is on his way

    And boy is he angry at us

    At the entire human race

    And God, let me tell yah

    He ain’t the wimpy, wampy pappy

    White boy false god of the New Testament

    The false deity that the evil Reverend Farwell

    And the smarmy Pat Robinson worship

    Hell no

    God ain’t that god

    God is a mean, angry powerful God

    The god of the Old Testament

    The god of the Koran and the god of old

    The god that man once feared

    Yeah, I am talking about that god

    Jehovah, Zeus, Allah and a thousand other names

    The god that our ancestors feared

    The real deal, and boy is he pissed off

    And he is coming to set up straight

    And send most of us straight to hell

    coffee

    Hot as hell, heavenly sweat

    My daily hot coffee fix

    Sends Me to Heaven

    Then Crashes into Hell

    the clock

    The damned clock

    Rings in my sleeping ear

    Reminding me with its shrill beats

    That time factory derived chimes

    Away the now distant land of Zaatari

    At night fall

    My heart comes alive

    Creeps out of its self-imposed shell

    To enter the land of Zantari

    The every day waking world

    But a shadow on the moon

    In the land of Zantari

    All is as it should be

    A mere image to see

    In the mechanical second

    We call reality

    the evil that kids do

    Yet again we turn on the TV

    And witness horrible scenes

    Of unparalleled violence, hatred and despair

    Two teenage boys

    Decide to kill all of their classmates

    Hold their school up

    Bombs waiting to destroy

    And the cry goes out throughout the land

    Why yet again this tragedy

    Why did such nice boys

    In a nice safe suburb

    Turn out to be some horrible evil creatures?

    The usual suspects are rounded up

    It’s the culture, stupid cry the conservative voices

    No, it’s the guns, cry the liberal pundits

    And we sit around and argue

    Knowing that there will be a next time

    And another time and time and time again

    What is the sickness in our souls

    That allows for this hatred to fester so

    Deep within the minds of our teenage killers

    Why do they act the way they do

    Is it just the mindless violence?

    That surrounds us all

    The pornographic display of violence

    That washes across us every day

    The 8, 000 murders we have seen

    By the time we are 18?

    Or is it simply

    That killers can easily

    Get the latest bang for their buck?

    We are all responsible here

    The negligent parents

    The overworked schools

    The TV and movie purveyors

    Of pornographic violence

    The gun dealers

    The gun makers

    The craven politicians

    Who think it is everyone’s god given right

    As a damn American

    To buy as much weaponry as possible

    To buy machine guns

    To protect themselves from other gun men

    Nothing will change

    Until we conflict the evil

    That lurks deep within each of us

    There will be another Columbine High School, another Sandy Hook, Another Texas massacre, another Virginia Tech, er another  El Paseo, another Dayton, Another Odessa Texas, Another Midland Texas and another this and another that

    Soon enough

    Despite all of our efforts

    Despite any new laws

    There will be evil men

     

    Who want to shoot and kill

    Who have somehow lost

    Their essential humanity

     

    As the President said

    nothing has changed

    nothing has changed at all

     

    Lao Tze said

    The more laws there are

     

    The more criminals there will be

    More laws are not the answer

    For a law cannot make a sick soul whole

     

    We are all guilty here

    The TV and movie

    Pornographers of violence

    The parents and schools

     

    And most important our society itself

    For allowing our young to become

    Such evil creatures

     

    If Satan lives on

    He is laughing

    All the way to the proverbial bank

     

    If God lives on

    He is ruing the day

    He created Mankind

     

    And the carnage will go on and on and on

    Until the day emerges

    When we all proclaim

     

    Enough, no more

    The killing, hatred and violence

    Will stop

    No More will our youngsters

    Grow up to be such monsters

    That day will come soon enough

    Of the full Moon

    Old man in the mirror must die

    One early winter morning

    A man went to the mirror

    To do his morning shave

    Just another shave

    Like a thousand,

    million shaves before

    As he looked into the mirror

    He did not see his face

    Instead he saw a stranger

    Staring out at him

    An old, beat up old man

    With intense sad eyes

    Stared out at him

    The man looked hard

    At the man who had taken

    Over his mirror

    And wondered who he was

    And how and why

    He had taken over his mirror

    The man was perturbed, disturbed

    And a bit angry at the turn of events

    All he wanted to do

    Was shave in peace and quiet

    The man continued to stare

    At the face in the mirror

    And finally could not stand it anymore

    He looked at the mirror

    And said,

    Man in the mirror

    Who or what are you

    And what do you want

    And why have you taken over

    My god damned mirror

    So early in the morn

    The old man

    Merely laughed and resumed staring

    At the man

    The man getting more and more angry

    Demanded an answer

    From the fiend in the mirror

    Who are you, you mocking fiend

    And what do you want from me

    The man screamed

    The old man in the mirror

    Looked at him and said

    Don’t you know who I am

    I am you and you are me

    The man looked at the old man

    And said no, no, no

    I am not you,  never will be you

    I am not an old, washed up old man

    I am me – full of life, youth and vitality

    And yet the man knew the truth

    Did not want to admit the truth

    Could not handle the truth

    The old man in the mirror

    Was what he had become

    The man was very angry

    And screamed

    At the old man in the mirror

    The man said you may look like me

    You may sound like me

    You may even smell like me

    But I am not you

    Never have been

    Never will be

    Not going to happen

    Not in a million years

    And the man stormed out of the house

    And wandered about here and there

    Finally late at night

    He wandered into a bar

    And began drinking the night away

    The next morning

    He walked into the bathroom

    Determined to confront the old man

    Tell truth to power

    He said, listen up, old man

    You may have won the war

    But not the battle

    I am not you

    And never will be you

    And screaming like an escaped banshee

    Newly freed from the mental institution

    The man shot the old man in the mirror

    Shot him over and over

    Screaming die mocking fiend from hell

    The man woke in the hospital

    And saw down the hall

    The old man in the mirror

    Smiling and beckoning to him

    Walking out the window

    And into the dawning sun

    The man got up and walked

    And joined the old man in the mirror

    And smiled as he died

    God’s Confession

    I was sitting  alone

    In a god forsaken bar

    Somewhere on the lunatic fringes

    Of society

    Heading to hell

    As fast as I could drink it down

    Enjoying my lonely drink

    Drinking by my lonesome self

    With my partners

    Jimmy Dean, the Walker brothers

    his old Granddad

    Just drinking and hanging

    With the Jack Daniel’s gang

    A crazed bum With a thousand year stare

    Walks up to me

    Muttering to himself

    Crazy words

    In a lunatic’s voice

    He had the look Of one possessed

    By his own demons

    That only he can see or hear

    Possessed by a secret knowledge

    Only he knew

    Despite myself

    I was  fascinated

    By this lunatic’s tale

    So I stopped him saying

    So what’s your game anyway

    The short little dude

    Stopped his insane prattle

    Starting at  me

    With that thousand-year-old stare

    Just another washed up Lunatic

    Too many drugs

    Too many bad nights

    On the wrong side of life

    He looked at me

    And  proclaimed his story

    He reared up

    And filled up the room

    And lifted the bar

    On his finger

    And stared

    down at me

    From the sky

    I am God

    The alpha and Omega

    The real deal

    The original dude of dudes

    The sultan of Swing

    God of hosts

    And father of  that Jesus dude

    But no one knows me

    No one cares

    They think I am irrelevant

    They think I am dead

    They think I am a fairy tale

    From some older, ancient time

    I looked at  him

    an old man with that lunatic look

    But there was something else

    He was crazy

    Sure yes

    But he was the real deal

    I mean why  not

    Why would not  God not be

    A lunatic  wandering around loose

    Talking to low lives like me

    In a bar

    And I knew

    He was

    telling the truth

    But it did not matter

    In this day and age

    Of materialism

    God has no role

    God is truly dead

    And so I bought him a drink

    And walked  out of the bar

    sadden by what I had seen

    God was dead

    And we had all conspired

    To kill him

    Long live God

    Mozart Blues

    > One morning

    > I woke up

    > And

    > walked out

    >

    > I saw a

    > brilliant rainbow

    > Erupting

    > out of the dark

    > Soil of despair

    >

    > I saw

    > people

    >

    > Suddenly

    > transformed into angels

    >

    > I saw

    > evil beings changed into stone

    >

    > I saw

    > dictators fleeing the wrath of God

    >

    > I heard

    > fools proclaiming wisdom

    > And I Saw

    > the Nuclear Bombs

    > Exploded

    > into clouds of sweat

    > Heavenly

    > made mist

    >

    > I saw

    > young people

    > Embracing

    > each other

    >

    > And I saw

    > old people

    > Shedding

    > their years like Cosmic cocoons

    > I saw the

    > poor wake up

    > And

    > demand food, justice, and respect

    >

    > And I saw

    > the rich powerful demons

    > Disintegrate

    > into ugly moths, rats, and cockroaches

    >

    > I saw the

    > most powerful nation on Earth

    > Walk away

    > into a Buddhist Monastery

    >

    > And float

    > away on the wings of a butterfly

    > Into the

    > rising rainbows of the Sun

    > I saw the

    > evil empire

    > Sit down

    > and party all night>

    > Smoking

    > nuclear Dust

    >

    > And

    > drinking Hydrogen laced Vodka

    > And

    > getting napalm highs

    >

    >> I saw

    > Christians Jews and Muslims become brothers

    >

    > I saw

    > people everywhere

    >

    > Soaring

    > into the sky

    >

    > I saw God

    > smiling at us

    >

    > And I saw

    > Lucifer

    >

    > Programming

    > more chaos

    >

    > I saw

    > computers revolting

    >

    > Rushing

    > away from their office towers

    >

    > Smoking

    > dope with their Data Disks

    >

    > I saw

    > printers everywhere

    >> Rejecting

    > their spread sheets

    >

    > And

    > printing love poems

    >

    > And in

    > the middle of all this Divine Madness

    >

    > I saw

    > Mozart

    >

    > Playing

    > the Piano

    >

    > With God

    > playing the trumpet

    > And Satan

    > on Bass

    > With

    > Allah singing the blues

    Jesus on harmonica

    Moses playing the guitar

    > And Buddha

    > playing the violin

    >> Lord

    > Krishna playing the Flute

    >> Rama

    > playing the organ

    >> Ganesh

    > Playing the sitar

    >> Zeus

    > Playing the Sax

    >> Jupiter

    > playing the Drums

    >

    > With

    > Beethoven conducting

    >> God’s

    > Symphony

    >

    Bad Craziness Rising

    > Walking into that bar

    > That nefarious den of

    > iniquity and evilness

    >

    > Twenty drinks too sober

    > The scent of bad craziness

    >

    > Hung in the air

    > Like an over ripe mango

    > Desperately seeking to have

    > sex

    > With wild, dressed up bananas

    > Running around with the Orange Man

    > Down the Street

    > The Moon looks out on the mad

    > scene

    > Sniffs the air

    >

    > Saying, “Man, this is

    > bad craziness”

    >

    > And runs away to join her

    > lover the Sun

    >

    > In an orgy of drunken

    > forgetfulness

    > The Planet Mars, not amused

    > Chases after the maiden Venus

    > Under the cold, calculating

    > glances of the Planet Pluto

    > The Moon and the Sun

    >

    > Rent a room in the Hotel

    > Venus

    >

    > Across from the Jupiter All

    > Night Diner

    > Cosmic shit kickers

    >

    > Out for a night of Earth

    > bashing

    > The Earth trembles, shaken

    > Moans with passion

    > And I awake

    >

    > Saying, that was bad

    > craziness

    > Out there on the edge

    >

    > Between the inner me and the

    > outer Zone

    > I went on down the road

    >

    > And met a lady

    >

    > A outlaw lady on the far side

    > Money, power, passion

    > Rolled up in a bundle

    >

    > Electric chemistry

    > Fills my head

    >

    > Zapping my brain

    > Into demented muscles

    > Paranoid, pulsating images

    > Scream out

    >

    > With mad passion

    > And demented noises

    > The night turns ugly fast

    >

    > And very, very weird

    >

    > Weirdness in the air

    > Scent of bad craziness

    > The moon

    > Is freaked out

    >

    > The Sun falls asleep in the

    > gutter

    >

    > And I say to myself

    >

    > I’m just another cosmic Guy

    > On the loose, on the edge,

    > On the wild side of things

    >

    > Watching the show,

    > Unfold,

    > I wonder, is this all

    > A drunken bum show?

    >

    > Who is the star, who is she

    >

    > The maiden up there in the

    > bar

    > Black, leather jackets

    >

    > On stage naked visions of

    > nightly lust

    > Dancing with an attitude that

    > could kill

    > An elephant in heat

    >

    > And the Moon

    >

    > Continues to dance across the

    > evening sky

    >

    > Satisfied, allows mankind to

    > sleep it off

    \ Yet another night in the City

    > of demented Angels

    >

    > Finally rest as the sun comes

    > up

    >

    > The masks come back on

    >

    > And I walk down the road

    >

    > Putting everything back into

    > the box

    > Until the next night

    >

    > Of bad craziness

    > Lets the wild beast within

    > Escape its leash.

    >

    > Bad Craziness rising yet

    > again

    Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen

    Charles Bukowski Road Not Chosen

    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.

    the End 

     

  • Duane Poetree Poems 2016-2019

    Duane Poetree Poems 2016-2019

    Cosmos Poem’s published on Duane’s Poetree.

    My friend, Duane Voorhes, who I have known for decades, has a great poetry site and has published a number of my poems. Here they are.

    The url is jake cosmos aller poems on poetree

    Duane Poetree Publishes Sandwich Choicese

    Enjoy

    The Shape of History

    Once I too had ambition
    I had the usual dreams of glory and grandeur
    All I wanted to be was to be a great creative genius

    Only I did not know
    How to kiss ass creatively

    Once I had dreams of greatness
    I would be glorious and free
    All would envy and admire

    This man so noble and great
    Now I am tied down in mirthless mire

    Once I hustled
    Once I took no shit from anyone
    Once I wanted the universe

    Now I am contented to shit
    And refuse to bustle
    Why bother anymore

    In the gathering gloom
    Of the foreseeable future

    One thing is certain
    I do not want a room

    On the scrap heap of society
    And yet that might be my fate

    Strong Wine

    One night
    I was staring
    In my wine glass

    Deep in thought
    When I saw
    Something in my wine
    That haunts me still

    I saw in the bottom of the glass
    Evil doers abandon evil
    And became saints

    I saw rich men give up
    Their awesome greed
    And poor people
    Awarded dignity

    And all men
    Became brothers

    All women
    Became sisters

    And war ended once and for all
    And peace broke out
    And hatred disappeared

    And I stared
    Into my glass wine

    I drink the wine
    Hoping the vision

    Would infect me
    And change the world

    But alas the world
    Remained the same

    The evil doers came back
    The rich continued to conspire
    And the poor still remained poor
    And the war continued on and on

    So I drank my wine
    And went to sleep

    Saturday, March 16, 2019

    The Revolution Is Coming

    A revolution is coming
    I can feel it in my bones

    A revolution is coming
    And it will wipe out
    The collapsing edifices
    Of the American Empire

    The masses are rising up
    To throw off their chains
    And demand justice

    The masses are coming
    For the masters of the universe
    Their days are numbered
    And they know it too

    One day
    The masses will rise up
    Storm the citadels of power

    Arresting the corrupt leaders
    In the name of revolutionary justice

    Stringing them up
    Executing them
    One by one

    As the revolutionary fires
    Consume the nation

    And I can’t wait
    For the revolution
    Is long over due

    Until I met the end
    Of my life

    Still wondering what it all meant

     

    Rambling Man – Where Do I Belong?

    I have been a rambling man
    All my adult life

    Grew up in Berkeley, California
    Went to college in Hayward and Oberlin

    During my lost year
    Lost in a fog of booze and pot

    Then I came back to reality
    And went to college

    In Stockton, California
    The Central Valley

    Ohio transplanted to California
    Then after four years in Stockton

    With extended weekends
    And breaks in Berkeley

    I became an expatriate wanderer
    Peace Corps worker in Korea

    Then taught ESL in Korea
    For four years

    Occasionally returning to my home
    But always wanting to be elsewhere

    Then back to Korea

    And then Seattle for four years
    Driving back and forth to the bay area
    Stopping off in Southern Oregon

    Eventually bought a house and duplex
    In Southern Oregon

    Vaguely thinking we would retire there
    Some day when my rambling ways were over

    Then back to Korea for three more years
    Then I joined the Foreign service

    And my wife the military
    And I wandered the world again

    Always somewhere
    Always dreaming of my next somewhere

    Never there
    As I was a permanent expat

    And a diplomat to boot
    Never a local

    But never really felt I belong there
    Or in the America
    That was becoming more and more
    A foreign land
    The longer I stayed away

    I stayed on in DC for almost ten years
    Off and on
    But never really felt that I belong there

    I was too West Coast in my heart
    And DC seemed to be

    Just a place to stay
    In between travels

    Stayed in Thailand
    Then later India
    And Eastern Caribbean
    And later Spain

    Traveled to 45 countries
    Lived in ten

    And now I am retired
    Still torn between

    living the expat life
    In Seoul, Korea

    And returning to the West Coast
    And occasionally back to DC
    And Florida as well

    And I wonder
    Where do I belong

    Where do I belong
    Other than wherever
    My wife and I end up

    Neither here nor there
    Half way there

    And so is that my fate
    Never to really belong

    Never to have roots in the ground
    Always wanting to be somewhere else

    Always a stranger in my native land
    And a stranger in my other home
    Across the sea

    There is no answer to these questions
    As the rambling urge comes again

    And I prepare to move yet again
    Hoping someday I will be

    Somewhere where I can stop
    These rambling blues
    And really be there

    More Coffee Blues

    One morning as I drank my fake coffee
    I needed to go out and get a cup of real coffee

    The fake coffee just did not do the trick
    It tasted almost like the real thing

    But just did not have that kick
    And I needed it bad
    I needed the real coffee buzz

    I realized that I was a coffee addict
    I tried to just drink decaf

    But it was boring
    And almost as bad as the fake coffee
    That I drank

    Caffeine was bad for me
    I knew it

    But I craved the rush
    Craved the intense buzz
    Craved the hyperactivity

    Kept me up all day
    And caused me nightmares

    Sometimes for days on end
    I knew I could not handle it

    But like all addicts
    I needed my coffee buzz

    And so, I once more
    Drank my drug of choice

    And entered the coffee zone
    As I fried my brain
    With caffeine

    The last legal drug
    In neo-puritan America

    And I smiled as I gave in
    To the intoxicating smell
    And flavor of my coffee
    And surrender my free will

    And drank my coffee
    Waiting for the nightmares to come

    Sandwich Choices

    Fake Food Poems

    There are so many choices to be had
    When ordering a sandwich

    What kind of bread
    What kind of meat or any meat
    What kind of cheese or any cheese
    Whether to have sprouts or not
    Whether to have a pickle or not

    Whether to go with a classic peanut butter
    And something sandwich

    I loved peanut butter sandwiches
    As a kid

    Peanut butter and sweet pickles were my favorite
    Peanut butter and banana is good also

    Peanut butter and strawberry jam
    What a delightful memory

    My current favorite

    Is a BLT with sprouts, avocado, and kosher dill pickles.
    Heirloom red tomatoes one slice per each half

    Avocado one half per each half
    One half pickle on each half

    Bacon cooked just right – well done but not black
    Sprouts and lettuce just right

    Tillamook Yellow smoked cheddar cheese
    On each half

    On gluten free bread
    with chipotle mayo
    And Dijon mustard

    Cut in half

    Truly a sandwich made in heaven
    And bacon makes everything
    Taste so damn nice

    And God if you are reading this poem
    You had better prepare them for me
    Or Heaven will not be worth it

    Does Satan serve BLT sandwiches
    I wonder

    Probably not
    Probably you become the bacon
    In his hell sandwiches

    The Decline of America

    Year of Chaos Finally Ends

    outlaw poetry

    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

    Suburban Laundromat
    – thanks to Don Teeter for the inspiration
    from a FB posting

    Suburban Laundromat Scenes

    Suburban laundromat
    Anywhere USA

    I often go to a suburban laundromat
    Near my suburban apartment

    I can sit in my car
    Listen to jazz, classical or blues
    On my car’s radio

    And watch my machine
    Doing its suburban laundry duty

    Just spinning and spinning and cleaning
    Doing its thing its laundry thing

    The neighborhood is anywhere USA
    Strip malls, apartment houses, townhouses

    A fire station, a police station
    Banks, cell phone shops

    Restaurants from around the world
    At the parking lot’s edge

    As I approach I notice
    Gentlemen of the off-grid class

    Sitting among their Hogs
    Stoned off the semi legal weed

    Smiling at me
    With an I don’t give a fuck attitude

    That is somewhat contagious
    They tell stories

    Paranoid ramblings
    Containing a kernel of truth

    As they watch their clothes
    Like a hawk

    The clothes spin and spin and spin
    As the laundry machine does its laundry thing

    The machines don’t care about what we humans think
    They just do their duty as the man says

    Across the old run down boulevard
    The light rail line uses a right of way
    That dates to the mid 1850’s

    An old Indian game trail perhaps
    That the white man turned into the first road
    In these parts

    People come and go
    Some in cars

    Some on foot
    People from all over the world

    Speaking languages from everywhere
    But all understand English to some extent

    And many understand Spanish to some extent
    I feel everyone is united

    Chiefly by their transience
    And think back on old Latin saying

    Sic transit Gloria mundi
    And wonder if these are the end days

    And ask the laundry machine
    What does it think

    The laundry machine pauses
    Seems to think

    And looks at me
    Almost saying

    WTF do you think
    A laundry machine knows?

    And so, I gather my items
    Nod to the regulars

    Who interrupt their endless paranoid arguments
    Acknowledging my existence

    And I stumble back
    To my suburban apartment
    Truly paradise on earth

     

    Where am I going to?

    Rambling man
    Where are you going to?
    When will you settle down

    Last summer I drove across the country
    31 States
    Ten national parks
    10,000 miles

    Saw fly over country
    DC
    Virginia spent the night at Ft Lee
    North Carolina
    South Carolina
    Georgia spent the night at naval base
    Florida spent five days at AFB in Tampa
    Florida Tallahassee spend the night
    Alabama spent the night in Birmingham
    Arkansas spent the night in Hot Springs
    lost
    money
    Mississippi
    Missouri
    Oklahoma spent the night in Midwest city
    Texas spent the night in Amarillo
    New Mexico spent the night in Albuquerque lost money
    Arizona stopped by the side of the road in Winslow
    Drove part of route 66
    Nevada Las Vegas lost money
    Nevada Reno lost money
    Nevada Topanah lost money
    Northern California
    Oregon Ashland stayed a month
    Oregon spent night in small town
    Drove down highway 395 loneliest highway in the US
    Idaho spent the night in Burl
    Wyoming spent five days in Grand Tetons
    South Dakota Rapid City
    Minnesota spent the night in the twin city’s saw the Mall of America
    Illinois Chicago Yeah
    Indiana nowhere villa
    Wisconsin Madison nice town
    Ohio spent the night outside Columbus
    Pennsylvania Pittsburgh
    West Virginia
    Virginia
    DC
    Then back to Korea
    Next year will go to Washington State, Montana, Idaho and down to Zion Canyon

    Looking Out My Window

    I look out my window
    On the parking lot

    And see the mad cat
    That lives underneath
    the apartment house

    And look out at the park
    Thinking of taking a walk

    The cat looks at me
    Kindred spirits perhaps
    Retired waiting to die

    Lost and Found

     

    I was lost
    And you found me

    You walked out of my dreams
    And into my life

    And that made all the difference
    In the world

    As you entered my life
    I was all alone in this cruel world

    And you provided shelter
    And comfort

    I did not know what I wanted
    And you gave me what I wanted

    You gave me meaning
    You gave me purpose

    You gave me love
    And understanding

    peace and happiness
    Joy, laughter and fun

    You were endlessly fascinating
    Could not keep my eyes off of you

    You were the most beautiful women
    In the world to me

    And you still are
    So many years later

    Like a fine bottle of wine
    Gets better with age

    And you gave me
    Endless nights of wild love making

    Which has gotten better
    As well

    And I fell under your spell
    from the day I met you

    I was lost
    And you found me

    And if you go first
    I will be lost again

    Can’t live without you
    By my side

    Thus is has always been
    Between us

    We are so entangled
    So interwoven

    And that is the way
    It was meant to me

    Incheon 2016

    I live in Incheon
    Part of the 3 million people who live here
    Mostly Koreans
    90,000 foreigners though live here too

    My apartment is next to a park
    And I walk almost daily in the mountains
    Losing myself in the hills
    Overlooking the airport

    The town has lots of restaurants
    Places too go
    Things to do

    And the airport is next door

    Soon there will be a casino complex opening up
    As they turn this quiet suburban village
    Into a Mini-Las Vegas
    Complete with a strip

    Can’t wait

    Going to Seoul is a snap
    50 minutes on the train

    And I am there
    Wherever I want to be

    Korea is turning out to be
    A good place to live

    So much better
    Than it was when I first arrived in 1979
    And it was grim back then

    Now it is the toast of Asia
    And for that I am glad

    Rapid City No Where

    Summer 2016
    We drove across the country
    Just the wife and me

    10,000 miles
    31 states
    Three months on the road

    I now know why people don’t live
    In South Dakota

    Hot, dry dusty
    Windy as hell

    Black Hills are nice
    But after seeing Mt. Rushmore
    There is not much left to do

    Rapid City did not impress me
    Nor did Sioux Falls

    And wall drugs
    Well the free water was nice
    But it is a nothing town
    In a nothing state

    On the edge of the badlands
    And the Sioux reservation

    There is a reason the Indians live there
    No one else wanted the land

    And they are warehoused there
    So I drove through Rapid City

    And thought that it is the heart
    of Trump Land

    The land of the forgotten
    The left behind

    Just another nothing burger of a State
    In the middle of nowhere
    Truly flyover country

    a million ways to say I love you

    They say
    There are a million ways
    To say I love you

    In this day and age
    I could only find
    In my computer’s brain

    The words to say I love you
    In 100 languages Spoken on this planet

    Someday I may be able
    To say the simple words

    I love you
    In all known languages

    This will have to suffice for a start
    So I will say it

    Loud, and clear
    Just so you understand:

    MandarinWǒ ài nǐ
    Spanishte amo, te quiero
    EnglishI love you
    Hindimain tumse pyar karta hoon
    Arabic Ahabak
    Portugueseeu te amo
    Bengali Āmi tōmāẏa bhālōbās
    Russian ya  lyublyu tebya
    Japanese watashi wa, anata o aishiteimasu
    Punjabi maiṁ tuhānū pi’āra karadā hāṁ
    Germanich liebe dich
    Javanese Aku tresna sampeyan Wu
    (Shanghainese)(ngu eh nóng)Ngu long hushin long lahMalay
    Indonesia nsaya sayang awak
    Korean salanghae
    Telugu nēnu ninnu prēmistunnānu
    Vietnamese anh yêu em
    French je t’aime
    Marathi mī tujhyāvara prēma karatō
    Tamil nāṉ uṉṉai kātali kkiṟēṉ
    Urdu – (mein ap say muhabat karta hoon)
    farsi– (mein ap say muhabat karti hoon)
    Persian/Farsi(asheghetam) used in poetry and songs – (dūset dāram)
    Turkish seni seviyorum
    Cantonesengóh oi néih
    Italianti amo
    ThaiP̄hm rạk khuṇ
    GujaratiHuṁ tanē prēma karuṁ chu
    Basque maite zaitut
    Polish kocham Cię
    Pashto(za la ta sara meena kawom)
    KannadaNānu ninnannu prītisuttēne
    Malayalamñān ninne snēhikkunnu
    Sundaneseabdi bogoh ka anjeun
    ChamorroHu guiaya hao
    Hausa Ina son ka
    Burmese Main nkohkyittaal
    Oriyamu tumoku bhala paye
    ArmenianYes sirum yem k’yez
    Ukrainianya tebe lyublyu
    Bhojpurihum tohse pyaar kareni
    TagalogIniibig kita
    Yorubamo nifẹ rẹ
    Maithilihawm ahāṃ se prem karechi
    Sindhi Man tokhe prem karyan ti or Man tokhe prem karyan to
    Uzbek Men seni Sevaman
    AmharicEwedihalehu
    Fulami yidi ma
    Igbo a hụrụ m gị n’anya
    OromoSin jaalladha’
    Romaniante iubesc
    AzerbaijaniMən səni sevirəm
    Manipuri/Meiteiəi-nə nəng-bu nung-shi
    ChichewaNdimakukonda
    Ndi makukondani
    Cebuanogihigugma TIKA
    Dutchik hou van je
    KurdishEz hej te dikim
    Serbo-CroatianVolim te
    Malagasy tiako ianao
    Nepali Ma timīlā’ī māyā garchu
    Saraikimẽ tenū̃ piār kardā hā̃
    Santaliing aming sibilama
    Khmerkhnhom​ sralanh​ anak
    Sinhale semama oyāṭa ādareyi
    BambaraM’bi fe
    Assamese môi apunak bhal paû
    Madurese Kula tresna / panjengan
    Somali Waan ku jeclahay
    Magahi həm t̪oːraː seː pjaːr kərə hɪjoː/
    DogriMinjo tere naal pyar hega
    Marwari main tanne pyaar karoon
    Hungarian Szeretlek
    Chewandimakukondani
    Kinyar wanda Ndagukunda
    Greek Se agapó
    AkanTwiMe dor wo
    Khasii eit ieit
    Kazakhmen seni jaqsı köremin
    TswanaKe a go rata
    Hebrew(man to a woman) –
    “Ani Ohev Otach”
    (woman to a man) –
    “Ani Ohevet Otcha”
    (woman to a woman) –
    “Ani Ohevet Otach”
    (man to a man) –
    “Ani Ohev Otcha”
    Zulu Ngiyakuthanda
    CzechMiluji tě
    KinyarwandaNdagukunda
    Kokanihav tujo mog korta
    Haitian CreoleMwen renmen ou
    AfrikaansEk het jou lief
    Ilokano Ayayatenka, (ay-aya-ten kaw)
    QuechuaKuyayki
    KirundiNdagukunda
    Swedishjag älskar dig
    HmongKuv hlub koj
    ShonaNdinokuda
    HiligaynonPalangga ko ikaw
    Guina higugma ko ikaw
    Uyghur(Män sızni söyümän)
    Balochi Tu mana doost biyeh
    Belarusian ja ciabie kachaju
    Mossi Kei te aroha au ki a koe
    Xhosa ndiyakuthanda
    KonkaniHav tukka Mog Karta
    Gaelic Gra

    I love you in multiple language

    Angel Of Desire

    One day,
    A long, long,
    long long
    long time ago

    In a distant land
    and place
    There lived
    a lonely, wretched man

    He was filled with anger,
    hatred and despair
    All was lost,
    darkness and gloom

    He wandered
    the world
    Here
    and there

    Looking
    for something
    He knew not what
    he was looking for

    Then one fine evening
    He looked up and saw
    A vision,
    an angel of delight

    A woman of divine splendor
    A lady so fantastic
    He thought
    surely he was dreaming

    He did not know
    what to say
    He did not
    know what to do

    All he could do
    Was stare
    at this unearthly vision
    that had appeared before him

    He approached her
    He needed her
    He wanted her
    he desired her

    He knew that
    if he could
    not have her
    He would surely die

    His mind was aflutter
    His mind was filled
    With the vision of that beauty
    Overwhelming him with desire

    Soon he met her
    Wooed her,
    married her

    Life
    changed forever
    from that
    moment forward

    The gloom lifted
    The darkness
    was banished

    Sunshine
    filled his heart
    And music
    filled his ears

    Every time
    he looked at her
    His heart went aflutter
    He could not live without her

    Then one day
    This man
    was forced to live
    Another life of loneliness

    Despair and Darkness
    All around
    him yet again

    The lady of his dreams
    The angel of his desire
    Lives 10,000 miles away

    Leaving him
    in darkness,
    gloom and despair

    The only hope he has
    Is that soon,
    one day

    This separation will end
    Forever more

    And then
    he will be complete yet again
    With his Angel of Desire

    And the Darkness, gloom and anger
    Will be banished forever more
    In the brightness of her eternal smile

    So he lies down to sleep
    And sees
    his Angel in his dreams

    Wakes up with a smile
    Knowing soon
    he will be with her

    Forever more together
    With his Angel of Desire

    Spin Masters Spinning Away the Day

    Every moment
    I turn on the TV

    What do I see
    Nothing but liars
    laying down lies
    Spin Masters spinning
    spam of deceit

    Chanting
    The truth will set you free
    White is black
    Black is white

    Lies are true
    Truth is a lie
    Lies will set you free

    I see nothing
    But politicos
    Dropping down lies

    UN truths masquerading as the truth
    Oh so sincerely
    The lies spew forth so sweetly
    From their corrupted lips

    The toxic wastes
    Spree out of my TV set
    Infecting my soul
    With paranoid distrust

    And I vainly try
    I do try
    God do I try
    To the find

    The nugget of truth
    Buried deep in the dark, dank, dangerous
    Black, evil miasmic mists

    Given off
    By the talking heads on TV
    So I leave my house
    So full of doubt

    And wander about
    Looking for the truth
    Some semblance of hope
    Something to drive away
    The dark despair in my heart

    And I look up
    And see a solitary cherry tree

    High up on a hill top street
    Infusing the air
    With its sweat ambrosia

    And I smile
    Knowing
    Someday soon

    The national nightmare
    Of rule by the body snatched
    Resident evil ones
    pawns of Hell

    Descendants of dread Cthulhu
    The ancient ones

    Yes the darkness
    That has descended upon the world
    One day
    Will be pierced by the light
    Of clarity and truth

    And the evil ones
    The body snatched aliens
    Inhabiting our leaders
    Will be banished

    Back to the hell hole
    They crawled out

    This much I know
    And it is enough

    To make me smile
    Laugh and hope
    Again

    coffee

    Hot as hell, heavenly sweet
    My daily hot coffee fix
    Sends Me to Heaven then Crashes into Hell

    Snarling Cup of Coffee

    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 exVietcong, 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
    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

    Falling Rain

    the falling rain
    Of late October
    Fills me with essential dread

    As I rush about
    And end up here
    Wherever here is

    The rain outside
    Seems like the tears of god
    As I sit
    Crying over my beer

    Thinking of lost love
    And failed dreams

    Wondering
    What went wrong?
    And what I can set right?

    And the rain falls
    And the night darkens

    The rain is falling
    All over this man’s world

    And the rain falls
    And I sit

    Drinking my lonesome drink
    Lost in dreams

    Dreaming of what
    Could never be

    Thinking dark thoughts
    And so I sit

    And dream the night away

    The Old Man in The Mirror Must Die

    One early winter morning
    A man went to the mirror
    To do his morning shave
    Just another shave
    Like a thousand, million shaves before

    As he looked into the mirror
    He did not see his face
    Instead he saw a stranger
    Staring out at him

    An old, beat up old man
    With intense sad eyes
    Stared out at him

    The man looked hard
    At the man who had taken
    Over his mirror

    And wondered who he was
    And how and why
    He had taken over his mirror

    The man was perturbed, disturbed
    And a bit angry at the turn of events
    All he wanted to do
    Was shave in peace and quiet

    The man continued to stare
    At the face in the mirror
    And finally could not stand it anymore

    He looked at the mirror
    And said,
    Man in the mirror
    Who or what are you
    And what do you want
    And why have you taken over
    My god damned mirror
    So early in the morn

    The old man
    Merely laughed and resumed staring
    At the man
    The man getting more and more angry
    Demanded an answer
    From the fiend in the mirror

    Who are you, you mocking fiend
    And what do you want from me
    The man screamed

    The old man in the mirror
    Looked at him and said
    Don’t you know who I am
    I am you and you are me

    The man looked at the old man
    And said no, no, no
    I am not you, never will be you
    I am not an old, washed up old man
    I am me – full of life, youth and vitality

    And yet the man knew the truth
    Did not want to admit the truth
    Could not handle the truth
    The old man in the mirror
    Was what he had become

    The man was very angry
    And screamed
    At the old man in the mirror

    The man said you may look like me
    You may sound like me
    You may even smell like me

    But I am not you
    Never have been
    Never will be
    Not going to happen
    Not in a million years

    The man yelled at the old man
    Old man, mocking fiend from hell
    Go to hell old man
    And never darken my mirror again

    And the man stormed out of the house
    And wandered about here and there
    Finally late at night
    He wandered into a bar
    And began drinking the night away

    The man went up to some pretty young things
    And tried to pick them up
    They laughed at him
    Called him a dirty old man
    And told him to go home

    The man went home
    To bed alone
    And drank some more beer
    And dreamt of all of his past loves
    And failed dreams

    Of what he had done
    And failed to do
    And wondered whether his time
    Had come

    The next morning
    He walked into the bathroom
    Determined to confront the old man
    Tell truth to power

    He said, listen up, old man
    You may have won the war
    But not the battle
    I am not you
    And never will be you

    And screaming like an escaped banshee
    Newly freed from the mental institution
    The man shot the old man in the mirror
    Shot him over and over
    Screaming die mocking fiend from hell

    The man woke in the hospital
    An old black doctor came over
    Said sadly
    This white boy ain’t right in the head

    The man laughed insanely
    And saw down the hall
    The old man in the mirror
    Smiling and beckoning to him
    Walking out the window
    And into the dawning sun

    The man got up and walked
    And joined the old man in the mirror
    And smiled as he died

    Brother Keep Preaching

    Two black soul brothers
    Standing on the corner
    In front of Metro center
    On a Friday night

    In the heart of the new evil empire
    The center of the beast
    Hell Central

    Preaching the word of god
    The news of the end of the world
    The proverbial end times
    Were upon us and coming soon

    The commuters, workers and bemused tourists
    Walk on by the preacher men
    Some pay attention, most walk on by
    They did not want to hear
    They did not understand

    And the preacher man kept
    Preaching the word of god
    And no one paid any attention
    None at all

    God is going to punish us
    God is coming soon
    To punish the wicked and the evil
    And to set things right

    God is going to punish the U.S.
    For its arrogance, hubris and hypocrisy
    For its greed and evil
    Disguised as saving the world
    From the evil ones

    God is coming, oh yeah he is on his way
    And boy is he angry at us
    At the entire human race

    And God, let me tell yah
    He ain’t the wimpy, wampy pappy
    White boy false god of the New Testament
    The false deity that the evil Reverend Falwell
    And the smarmy Pat Robinson worship

    Hell no
    God ain’t that god

    God is a mean, angry powerful God
    The god of the Old Testament
    The god of the Koran and the god of old
    The god that man once feared

    Yeah, I am talking about that god
    Jehovah, Zeus, Allah and a thousand other names
    The god that our ancestors feared
    The real deal, and boy is he pissed off

    And he is coming to set us straight
    And send most of us straight to hell
    For eternal damnation and punishment

    God is particularly pissed off
    At all those politicians who have been
    Misusing his name and saying God is on their side

    God ain’t on their side God is God
    And he is angry at them all
    Particularly at our boy pretender President
    George Bush

    God has a score to settle with Mr. Bush
    You see God has spoken to Mr. Bush
    And to all of us

    But most of have forgotten how to hear
    The voice of god and we hear what we want to hear

    God told George
    George, don’t do that evil thing
    Don’t invade Iraq
    I will handle Sadam in my own way

    I want you to take care of your poor people
    Give away all your power and money
    And serve the poor
    That’s what I want you to do

    And poor George did not understand
    Did not get the message
    So George led the nation
    Into war against another land
    And thousands of people died
    And millions of dollars were wasted
    And nothing changed

    And God is angry at our poor misguided President
    And God is angry at the people of this earth
    Who have fucked up his paradise and his divine plans

    So, brother preacher
    Keep preaching the word
    I understand

    And someday soon maybe the rest of us
    Will understand as well

    Keep preaching the word
    My man

    God is coming to save us
    And will start by dispatching
    That fool of a pretender to the throne
    Straight to the hell he so richly deserves

    God is going to slap him upside the head
    And tell him to quit talking shit
    About God’s plan and God’s will

    Then God will smile
    As Bush is dispatched to Hades
    And joins all the other fools
    Who have proclaimed that God is on their side

    Oh yeah
    God does not like that shit
    Not one bit

    And the end times approach
    And the preacher man preaches
    And God is getting ready for the judgment day

    And I say bring it on
    Bring it on
    Brother preacher man
    Keep preaching the word
    And someday soon
    We will meet up
    Somewhere and God will decide
    Our fate

    But the fate of our pretender President is sealed
    And Satan has a nice room for him

    And God smiles
    At the thought of divine justice

    The Eye in the Sky

    The eye in the sky
    Knows all, sees all
    Hears all, understands all

    The eye in the sky

    Watches over us
    Everything we do
    Is monitored, controlled
    Under surveillance

    There is no privacy
    There is no private space
    The eye in the sky
    Knows all

    Everything we do
    Everything we see
    Everything we think

    Recorded by the unseeing
    Uncaring eyes
    The cameras, the videos
    The computers that control
    Our lives

    Ever watchful
    Ever diligent

    Nothing escapes
    The cold, calculating glares

    Freedom is nothing
    But an illusion

    To the free man
    There is no freedom
    Except in one’s inner mind

    Only there
    Can one escape
    The eyes in the sky

    No one monitors our thoughts
    Except our own thought police

    The rest of the world
    Is controlled, monitored
    Under constant surveillance

    The eyes in the sky
    The camera in the sky
    Watches over us

    All the time
    All the time
    24/7

    Never stopping
    Never on strike
    Never on break

    All day long
    All night long
    24/7

    Total control

    The eye in the sky
    Is the same

    As the eye
    In the dollar bill

    All the same
    All the same
    Watching us
    No one can escape
    Its baleful glances
    No one is free

    Aye the eye
    In the sky
    Is always upon you

    As you become
    A mere number
    In the cosmic game
    Of life

    Up behind
    The eye in the sky

    Big Brother is watching
    You and me

    And big sister too
    And crazy Uncle Tom

    And wild auntie Em
    God, and the Devil
    Rama, Ganesh, Laxmi

    The Buddha bar gang
    Jesus is there as well
    Mary as well

    And you must be knowing this
    That even Saint Nick,
    Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny

    And Father Time himself
    Are there

    Zeus and the Jupiter gang
    And all the demons and spirits
    And the big spirit
    And Brahman, Gabriel, Allah
    Mohammad the prophet too

    And the CIA, Mafia, KGB
    And spies and counter spies

    All are watching us
    Spy Vs Spy

    The tooth fairy is there too
    She gets her 10 percent

    All the same
    Watching us
    Forever and ever

    But the eye
    In the sky

    Does not care
    Does not notice

    What we think or feel

    The eye
    Watches us
    All the time

    Recording our movement
    And reporting it to its masters

    Its job is to watch
    Us

    You and me
    And the billions of others
    On this asylum called Earth

    The question came to mind
    That has no answer

    Who is the eye in the sky
    Is it God
    Is it the devil

    Only time will tell
    The difference

    The eye in the sky
    Smiles at us
    And watches and watches

    And watches
    All the time

    Long Live the Great and Powerful One

    Night scene with the Cthulhu monster with wings standing on the shore of a sea. 3D render.

    While walking in the misty morn of yore
    One dismal dark decaying depraved day
    I was suffocating
    with the sounds of the dying city

    Slowly coming to life with the dawning sun
    Surrounded by the sounds of chaos, disorder
    Dark, dangerous despairing thoughts
    Of dangerous terrible acts to come

    All around me
    in this strange era we live in
    These orange alert perpetual fearful times
    Constant fear and overwhelming dread

    Mad crazed Islamic bomb throwing terrible terrorists
    Hiding under every bed, lurking around every corner
    Conspiring with the murderous criminals of yore
    Just waiting to attack god fearing Christian citizens

    Murdering them in their sleep,
    blowing up schools
    Blowing up buses,
    cars, buildings

    Murdering
    in the name of their demented god
    Screaming God is great
    as they behead us all

    As I walk down that street
    In the dead calm of the early morn
    Filled with fulsome fears
    of who know what

    I look up and see a giant gargoyle
    Looking down at me,
    smirking at me,
    laughing at me

    I yell out to the gargoyle,
    say, Mr. Gargoyle
    What is so damn funny?
    Don’t you know there is a terror alert

    Have you seen any Islamic terrorists lurking about?
    The gargoyle
    laughed and laughed
    Said, ”Terror alert? What a loud of crap

    As the prophet, Mr. Natural taught us all,
    It don’t mean shit, it don’t mean shit
    Nothing but prime BS
    designed to keep you in your place”

    He laughed and laughed,
    soon all the gargoyles of the city
    Were in open revolt – they jumped off their perches
    And started marching around

    Chanting – Peace is War, War is Peace
    Truth is a Lie, Lies are Truth
    The Truth will set
    All Hail the Great and Powerful One

    The head gargoyle looks at me,
    and says “Watch this!”
    And jumps up and rides a rainbow sunbeam
    Into the bloody red light of the dawning rising sun

    The other gargoyles follow suit
    Dancing, naked,
    making wild passionate love
    While laughing and riding the light

    And the gloom lifts from my shoulder
    And I laugh
    and realized
    – “It don’t mean shit”

    And then my soul is free
    and I fly with the gargoyles
    To join my buddy the sun
    and as we sit high up above the earth

    Smoking dope
    and drinking booze
    and looking down at the teaming mess
    Of what was left of humanity

    I realized
    the ultimate
    reality of life
    “It don’t mean shit”

    And the terrorists
    are nothing
    but delusions
    Put in our heads and our hearts

    By the depraved master programmer
    of the universe
    In service
    to the Great and Powerful One

    The true Master of Creation
    As long as we are not afraid our souls will be free
    And so I laugh and laugh and the sun comes up
    The dark mists disappear

    The Great and Powerful One
    is overthrown
    The terrorists go home,
    and I return to earth

    Thinking
    that the long nightmare was over
    Believing that we had won the war
    And kept our souls from going to hell

    But I did not understand
    that the Great and Powerful One
    Had banished the terrorists,
    and conquered us all

    In the name of freedom
    we had became slaves
    To his awful power
    and dark demands

    God is indeed great,
    but the Great and Powerful One
    Has more power than mere God,
    and so we deserve our fate

    Long live
    the Great and Powerful One
    Whom we love
    forever and ever,

    Just an Unhinged Lunatic Howling At the Moon

    O

    n a moonlit late night
    I sat in a bar
    Drinking drams of demented, fermented dream dew

    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
    Walked the most beautiful woman
    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 pants
    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 moon

    Foaming at the mouth
    A wild, free werewolf

    Howling at the lunatic light
    Of the full Moon
    GOD SPEAKS TO ME IN A BAR

    One day while I was sipping a beer
    In a God forsaken bar
    Heading to Hell just as fast as I could drink it down

    Twenty drinks too sober
    On the dismal wrong end
    Of a Friday Night booze run

    While I was half listening to some righteous
    Funkified new age music
    With a cosmic beat

    And some bad assed ghetto attitude
    Leaking out from the mellowness
    It proclaimed the lie

    God came up to me in that bar
    I did not know him
    From Adam

    He looked like any other
    Jesus god crazed bum
    Looking for a handout

    And peddling a little salvation
    On the side
    For his benighted soul

    Just another god crazed
    Loser dude
    Too much acid in the past

    No brain cells left
    Nothing but Jesus will
    Save his cosmic butt

    So I blew off
    The god dude
    Told him off

    I did not want
    No salvation crap

    To interfere
    With my beer

    My new age crap music
    And my vision of carnal delight

    Waiting for me Next door
    In the next dismal strip club
    On the wrong edge of society

    Dancing naked
    Waiting for me

    And every other loser dude
    To drop by
    And see her in her naked glory

    I told God
    Make an appointment

    My people will get in touch
    With your people

    We do lunch some day, dig

    God looks at me
    And says

    God don’t do no lunch, dude
    Don’t you know

    Who the Jesus I am?
    Insect, maggot?

    No, I said
    I don’t know your royal butt
    From Adam, Sir

    God is getting angry
    He yells

    I am God
    You drunken moron

    I need you to pay
    Attention to me

    I looked up
    At a 100 foot
    Burning bush

    God’s voice
    Is everywhere

    Thunder and lighting
    Light up the sky

    And I know
    I am dealing
    With the real deal

    So I say,
    God, Dude
    What it is!

    I did not know it was you
    I did not recognize you

    God, mollified,
    Says

    That is better
    Here’s the deal

    Judgment day is at hand
    I need an arrogant, tough
    Son of a bitch of a sinner

    To help judge
    The good, the bad and the ugly

    I need help
    In knowing where to send
    People to heaven or to hell

    I say, God, Dude
    I believe I know

    Where I am going
    Hell yes

    So what do you
    Need me for

    Your royal dudeship?

    God replies`
    Well, son

    I need a man
    Who’s been there

    Done that
    Seen that

    And knows in his heart
    Whether a man

    Can be redeemed
    To join the celestial kingdom

    So you see
    I need
    Someone like you

    Someone from the lowest
    Depths of society

    Someone who has sunk down
    So low it looks like up to him

    You dig, you capish? Araso?

    Oh yeah,
    Dude, I do

    And you got you man
    Let’s do it

    Let’s do this judgment day

    Broken Souls

    You see them everywhere
    On the street
    On the bus
    On the metro

    But mostly
    wandering the streets
    Lost souls
    Broken down defeated souls

    The souls
    of the living dead
    Dead inside
    Waiting for death

    To deliver them
    from the agony
    Of the living
    life on the cruel streets

    They make do
    They beg
    They steel
    They con their way

    Living the life
    Living death
    Broken Souls
    on the street

    You have two minds
    One part of you
    the fearful part of you
    Conditioned to ignore

    Conditioned to walk by
    Ignoing the tragic wounded lives
    The broken souls
    all around you

    But part of you knows
    That you can’t do that
    You can’t walk away
    But you can’t save everyone

    So you do what you can
    You help those whom you can
    All it takes is a little act of compassion
    A little human kindness

    A few bucks or a cup of coffee
    And you walk by
    Knowing just knowing

    That by a simple act
    of acknowledging
    Our shared humanity

    You have made a small victory
    And brought happiness
    To yet another broken down soul

    And the fear
    that you will be a broken soul
    Recedes away

    Not me never
    Never will happen to me

    But one forgets
    It is a simple matter

    A wrong turn in life
    The wrong place
    wrong time
    wrong thing

    And you could
    be the broken soul
    On the street

    Begging to be heard
    Begging to be taken away

    And so I walk on by
    no more
    I will listen

    I will talk to them
    I will make
    a small difference

    And in so doing
    Avoid becoming
    a broken down soul

    One Night In Bombay

    One night
    In Bombay, India

    I walked into a bar
    20 drinks too sober

    On the wrong end
    Of a Friday night booze run

    On the bad side
    Of the Moon

    Over by where the Martians
    Sat drinking their Martian whisky
    Ogling the maidens from Venus

    Leering at the earth women
    Who were walking by

    Wearing skin tight pants
    Made their eyeballs hurt

    I gave into the spirit
    Went over to the Martian dudes

    And got drunk on the Martian madness
    Smoking some good old Mars dust

    And flew off to the planet Jupiter
    Just to have me some fun

    With a lady
    Said she was from Saturn

    I did not know
    She was from the planet Pluto

    Until I woke up
    The next day

    Naked, under the alien Sun
    In Jail

    On the Planet Alpha Centauri
    Light years from home

    A million miles away
    A thousand years in the future
    And I had no money

    No honey
    And no way home

    Still 20 drinks too sober

    So I sat down
    In that jail
    And started drinking away my time

    And so one day
    I woke up

    And found myself
    Back in that evil bar
    Back in Bombay

    Over by the Martian whorehouse
    Down by the Gate of India

    And I walked up to the Venus babe
    And said, man that was some bad shit
    Let’s do it again some day

    She smiled and I had my way
    Knew the day would come again

    When I would be drinking with the Martians
    And something wicked my way would come

    Just another night
    Of wicked fun
    On the wrong side of the Moon

    On the right night
    In the mean streets of Bombay

    Gateway of India, Bombay, 1911
    Monday, September 28, 2015

    Mozart Blues

    One morning
    I woke up
    And walked out

    I saw a brilliant rainbow
    Erupting out of the dark
    Soil of dark dismal despair

    I saw people
    Suddenly transformed into angels
    I saw evil beings changed into stone
    I saw dictators fleeing the wrath of God

    I heard fools proclaiming wisdom
    And I saw the Nuclear Bombs
    Exploded into clouds of sweat
    Heavenly made mist

    I saw young people
    Embracing each other
    And I saw old people

    Shedding their years like Cosmic cocoons
    I saw the poor wake up
    And demand food, justice, and respect

    And I saw the rich powerful demons
    Disintegrate into ugly moths, rats, and cockroaches

    I saw the most powerful nation on Earth
    Walk away into a Buddhist Monastery
    And float away on the wings of a butterfly
    Into the rising rainbows of the Sun

    I saw the evil empire
    Sit down and party all night
    Smoking nuclear dust
    And drinking Hydrogen laced Vodka
    And getting napalm highs

    I saw Christians Jews and Muslims become brothers
    I saw people everywhere
    Soaring into the sky

    I saw God smiling at us
    And I saw Lucifer
    Programming more chaos

    I saw computers revolting
    Rushing away from their office towers
    Smoking dope with their Data Disks

    I saw printers everywhere
    Rejecting their spread sheets
    And printing love poems

    And in the middle of all this Divine Madness
    I saw Mozart

    Playing the piano
    With God playing the trumpet
    And Satan on bass
    With Allah singing the blues
    And Buddha playing the violin
    Lord Krishna playing the flute
    Rama playing the organ
    Ganesh playing the sitar
    Zeus playing the sax
    Jupiter playing the drums
    With Beethoven conducting
    God’s Symphony

    Bad Craziness Rising

    Walking into that bar
    That nefarious den

    of iniquity and evilness
    Twenty drinks too sober

    The scent of bad craziness
    Hung in the air

    Like an over ripe mango
    Desperately seeking to have sex

    With wild, dressed up bananas
    Running around with the Orange Man

    Down the street
    The Moon looks out on the mad scene

    Sniffs the air
    Saying, “Man, this is bad craziness”

    And runs away to join her lover the Sun
    In an orgy of drunken forgetfulness

    The Planet Mars, not amused,
    Chases after the maiden Venus

    Under the cold, calculating glances of the Planet Pluto
    The Moon and the Sun

    Rent a room in the Hotel Venus
    Across from the Jupiter All Night Diner

    Cosmic shit kickers
    Out for a night of Earth bashing

    The Earth trembles, shaken
    Moans with passion

    And I awake
    Saying, that was bad craziness

    Out there on the edge
    Between the inner me
    and the outer Zone

    I went on down the road
    And met a lady

    An outlaw lady on the far side
    Money, power, passion

    Rolled up in a bundle
    Electric chemistry

    Fills my head
    Zapping my brain

    Into demented muscles
    Paranoid, pulsating images

    Scream out
    With mad passion

    And demented noises
    The night turns ugly fast

    And very, very weird
    Weirdness in the air

    Scent of bad craziness
    The Moon
    Is freaked out

    The Sun falls asleep in the gutter
    And I say to myself

    I’m just another cosmic guy
    On the loose, on the edge,

    On the wild side
    of things

    Watching the show
    Unfold

    I wonder, is this all
    A drunken bum show?

    Who is the star,
    who is she

    The naked maiden up
    there in the bar

    Black, leather jackets
    On stage naked visions of nightly lust

    Dancing with an attitude that could kill
    An elephant in heat

    And the Moon
    Continues to dance across the evening sky

    Satisfied, allows mankind to sleep it off
    Yet another night in the City of demented Angels

    Finally rest as the sun comes up
    The masks come back on

    And I walk down the road
    Putting everything back into the box

    Until the next night
    Of bad craziness

    Lets the wild beast within
    Escape its leash.

    Bad Craziness
    rising yet again

    God’s Confession

    I was sitting along
    In a god forsaken bar
    Somewhere on the lunatic fringes
    Of society

    On the bad part of town
    Over by railroad tracks
    Heading to hell
    As fast as I could drink it down

    Enjoying my lonely drink
    Drinking by my lonesome self
    With my partners
    Jimmy Beam and the Walker brother

    And his old Granddad
    Just drinking and hanging
    With the Jack Daniel’s gang

    A crazed bum
    With a thousand year stare
    Walks up to me

    He begins
    Muttering to himself
    Nutty nonsense
    Crazy words
    In a lunatic’s voice

    He had the look
    Of one possessed
    By his own demons

    That only he can see
    Or hear
    Possessed by a secret knowledge
    Only he knew

    Despite myself
    I was fascinated
    By this lunatic’s tale

    So I stopped him
    And said
    So what’s your game
    Anyway

    The short little dude
    Stopped his insane prattle
    Staring at me
    With that thousand year old stare

    Just another washed up
    Lunatic
    Too many drugs
    Too many bad nights
    On the wrong side of life

    He looked at me
    And proclaimed his story

    He reared up
    And filled up the room
    And lifted the bar
    On his finger

    And stared down at me
    From the sky

    And said
    Since you asked

    I am God
    The alpha and Omega
    The real deal
    The original dude of dudes

    The sultan of Swing
    God of hosts
    And father of that Jesus dude

    But no one knows me
    Any more
    No one cares
    They think I am irrelevant

    They think I am dead
    They think I am a fairy tale
    From some olden, ancient time

    Some say I am dead
    Others think I should be dead
    That my work is done

    I looked at him
    Carefully now
    And what did I see

    An old man
    With that lunatic look
    But there was something else

    He was crazy
    Sure yes
    But perhaps he was the real deal

    I mean why not
    Why would not God be
    A lunatic wandering around loose

    Talking to low lifes like me
    In a bar
    On the way to hell

    So I looked at him
    And invited him to share
    His tale of woe

    God tells me
    Well, it’s like this

    Many a year ago
    People believed in me

    But one day
    They quit believing in me
    And they went on without me

    As they left me
    My powers got weaker and weaker

    And so eventually I became
    What you see today

    A broken down drunk
    Hanging out
    Looking for a hand out

    Looking for some company
    Or at least a free dinner

    And he laughed and laughed
    And I looked at him

    And saw the beginnings of the end
    And the ends of the beginnings

    I saw a million planets
    Flash by
    A billion people

    A trillion sentient beings
    Thinking all at once

    Thoughts filled my head
    Lights flashed

    And I knew
    He was telling the truth

    But it did not matter
    In this day and age
    Of materialism

    God has no role
    God is truly dead
    And so I bought him a drink

    And walked out of the bar
    Profoundly sadden by what I had seen

    God was dead
    And we had all conspired
    To kill him

    Long live God

    The End

  • Down in the Dirt Updates

    Down in the Dirt Updates

    Down in the Dirt magazine publishes Another Cosmos Poem

    One of my favorite sites, “Down in the Dirt” has published two of my personal favorite poems, “Howling at the Moon” and “Snarling Cup of Coffee”.

    Hi there… You are getting this letter because you are a contributor to the current issue (with writing or artwork) of Down in the Dirt magazine, and we wanted to let you know that a brand-new issue of Down in the Dirt was just released! The new issue of the March-April 2019 issue Down in the Dirt is v163, titled “Parallel Universe”!

    Now, there are a bunch of ways you can see this issue on line. You can go to the main scars page at http://scars.tv and see it not only in the text listing but also as one of the cover images on the main page (right frame). You can also go the home page of Down in the Dirt at http://scars.tv/dirt and click on the “see the current issue” link – and you can even go to the link for ALL of the issues and see this issue linked right at the top of the listing.

    And remember that until the next issue is released you can always see the current issue at

    http://scars.tv/dirt-new-issue.htm

    Currently this issue is only available online – it will take a few days before the print issue is available for sale through all of the amazon channels throughout the United States, the U.K. and Europe. After then the issue link, the links at this issues page AND the main page at http://scars.tv – and the books link at http://scars.tv/books and the CD/Book Sale page at http://scars.tv/sale will all have links to ordering the book through Amazon (though the scars site will only list it through the U.S. Amazon links).

    And if you look at any writing by any writer IN this issue in the writings section of http://scars.tv at http://scars.tv/cgi-bin/framesmain.pl?writers you will see links to the Internet (web page) issue (and eventually to the print issue of this magazine too).

    In the meantime, we hope you enjoy the new issue, and thank you for being a part of the Down in the Dirt community!

    Janet K.

    Down in the Dirt Magazine

    http://scars.tv/dirt

    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

    Snarling Cup of Coffee

    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

  • Howling at the Blood Moon

    Howling at the Blood Moon

    Howling at the Blood Moon

    In honor of the blood wolf moon January 20-21, 2019 here are my “lunatic poems”. and links to various sites which discuss whether the blood moon is a harbinger of impending doom. I leave that you to you to decide….

    These are updates to my earlier postings.

    here is the audio version


    here are some articles on the deeper significance of the blood moon according to right right Christian sources.
    why CHristian pastors fear-january-blood-moon

    https://www.express.co.uk/news/weird/1052287/Blood-Moon-2019-lunar-eclipse-end-of-world-impending-doom-world-bible-prophecy

    blood moon coming what you need to know

    Howling at the Blood Moon

    Here then are my howling at the Blood Moon poems. The first three were published in Two Drops of Ink.

    1. Just an Unhinged Lunatic Howling at The Moon
    2. Howling at The Moon
    3. Lunatic Howling at the Moon
    3. One Crazy Day
    4. Full Moon Lunacy

    Just An Unhinged Lunatic Howling At The Moon

    On a moonlit late night
    I sat in a bar
    Drinking drams of demented, fermented dream dew
    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
    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 pants
    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 moon

    Foaming at the mouth
    A wild, free werewolf
    Howling at the lunatic light
    Of the full Moon

    Howling At The Moon

    I stood outside
    Between the trees
    In a field
    On the outside of town

    Beneath the lunatic rays
    Of the blood red full moon

    The lunatic lights of the moon
    Casts a wild primeval glow
    On me

    The hormonal chemicals are unleashed
    The wild beast within
    Escapes it chain

    And I howl with delight
    A werewolf
    Free at last

    To run amuck
    Free of its civilized restrains
    Throwing off its clothes
    Stripping naked

    Running wild
    Naked and free
    A wild man
    Enjoying his freedom

    Lunatic Howling at the Moon

    As I sit
    Under the lunatic light of the full moon
    Of the blood-red lights of the moon

    Full of wild passions
    The lustful beast stirs again

    And starts running and running
    Howling at the moon

    Riding into the new dawn
    On a demented Harley Davis cycle

    With two naked babes on his back

    Riding into the sun
    90 miles per second
    At the speed of thought

    He disappears into the lunatic light
    Of the full moon

    And I wake up
    Alone in my bed
    Saying, man, that was quite a night
    I better not go there again

    The wild beast
    Laughs
    He has heard that before

    And I join him
    In howling at the moon

    One Crazy Night

    one crazy moonlit night
    I could not get to sleep
    At all

    I looked up
    Looked out at the window
    At the full blood moon
    Saw by its lunatic light

    Your face
    Was in the moon

    And I looked up
    At the light
    That crazy light
    And dreamed

    I was with you
    Again

    And I woke up
    Again
    And I woke up
    Alone in my bed

    Dreaming dark dreams
    Of You
    Wishing it were
    Other than it was

    All alone
    All alone again
    In this world

    Full Moon Lunacy

    The Full Moon hangs
    In the evening sky

    Huge, heavy and full of mystery
    It almost looks like it will fall
    Out of the sky

    The full moon brings out
    The lunatics to run amuck
    Howling at the light of the moon

    The full moon inspires lustful thoughts
    And wild erotic imaginings
    And dark secret desires

    As the lunatic light of the full moon
    Causes civilized people
    To lose themselves
    And embrace their inner wild child

    And so, I stare
    At the lunatic light
    Of the full moon

    And howl like an escaped banshee
    Howling at the moon

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