dark poetry

some of my poems can be very dark indeed.  Here are some of my darker poems.

The Fog

The Fog

The Fog

The Fog

Rolls in and in

And on forever

Till the ends of time

Past where once stood proud San-San

Now there is nothing

But bones rolling in

Forever and ever

Rotting in the blue sunlight

Turning in the yellow clouds

Filling the air

With the stench

The fear

The feel

Of a people forever dead

Merging with the fog Filling the air

The fog rolls in and in Laughing as the Sun

Sinks into the purple coated sky

Above the encrusted sky of time

 

Slime Patrol to the Dish room

Note: I washed dishes in college

Slime Patrol to the dish room please

Rant the loudspeaker with a demented static

Hell no, we chanted in vain

Nowhere to go

Nowhere to escape

The ever-present smell

Of putrid rotting, sweaty effervescent slime

That’s right

Slime,

 

slime,

 

slime,

 

slime

 

Slime

 

Slime

 

Slime

 

Slime

 

Slime

Slime

 

Is that all that there is?

N

 

O

 

N

T

H

I

N

G

 

B

 

U

 

T

 

 

S

 

L

 

I

M

E

 

Ruled by slime Kings who run Slime Machines?

Hell No, we won’t go we chanted in vain

And we hook ourselves up

And entered the machine

SLIME PATROL TO THE DISHROOM

For we are all nothing but slime molds

In the gross wheels of America’s grease pit

 

Blue Blues

I went over to the River

Just to catch me a view

I said I went over to the Damn River

Just to catch me a god damn fine view

I walked over to that bridge, built for two

I walked over to that bridge, built for two

Only problem was that there was only one of me

I asked the old man River I said Old Man River What does it all mean?

He said with an evil grin

It don’t mean a thing

Unless you can do the Go-Go swing

The Old Man River boogied out of sight

Leaving me alone to pick up the pieces  What does it mean

If you ain’t got that Go-Go swing?

.

 

 

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 Mars

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 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

Let’s the wild beast within Escape its leash.

 

Bad Craziness  rising yet again

 

 

Time, Long Ago

In a time

Long ago

Knowing neither here nor there

But only how

 

There stood a palatial palace

Upon a hill

Surrounded by trees and the hills

 

And in this palace

Live an evil, mendacious prince

All he touched

Filled with a disease

 

And all around him

The bogeyman

 

Tall, ugly, dark chocolate covered trees

Surround the Camp of the bogeyman

Yeah

 

The bogeyman

And at last the sun sets

Over the silver sea

 

And the bogeymen rush out

The populace screams

As the bogeymen commence

 

Killing, looting, raping

All is silent

 

Except for the sounds of grapefruit

Being eaten by butterflies

Performing perverse sexual acts upon moths

 

The Thing

Falling

The doors open

Flipping over

And pulling through

 

A new land

A new face

New Sounds

Fills one’s mind

With Insanity

 

Overcoming all

In the mists of time

I see all

 

The trees trying to die

The men weeping

Trying to live

 

Floating down a stream

Over hanging all

The trees

 

And out of the Swamps

It comes, it comes, it comes

 

The Nebulous Night of Darkness

 

And in the nebulous night of darkness

Came a cosmic sound out of the scurrilous sky

Screaming to me

 

The sounds of the universe having an orgasm

As the cosmos continues to fall apart

 

Railing against the waves and currents

Of the storms of hate

 

The world slowly floats away

Like a bar of soap on the ocean

 

And sinks beneath the seas of nothingness

A silver bell

Rings out the sacred peal

 

And I slowly fade away

Into the deep sleep of nothingness

 

Then they awake

They yawn, grin and scare away

The phantoms of the dangerous dark

 

And I escape on the wings of a lovely lark

Into the never ending nebulous night

 

And as I dive into the cool cascading waters  of the pink sky

 

I slowly understand

That the universe is merely an ant

An ant lost in the swamps of one’s mind

 

Gathering Storm Clouds

 

In the gathering storm clouds

I arose in drunken stupor

Overwhelming the gentle deadly day

 

With the smell of death

Breathing the fires of life

 

I stared across

The sands of my personnel internal deserts

Unrelieved by the image

 

No substance

No dream

No mirage or structure

 

Naked

Full terrible swift chaos

Greeted me

 

With a blinding flash of false insight

I arose

 

Amidst the narcotic mist

And nefarious terrors of the night

 

To boldly challenge my fate

Then I realized with a start

That I had no fate

 

Until the walls came to me  And in the final analysis What difference does the rambling  of a deranged ant

Make in the chaos of eternal infinity

 

 

Fears

 

Tonight

Out of the silent places of my mind

Out of the depraved corridors deep inside

Overwhelming me

 

Came the ever present fear The fear of rejection

 

The fear of being lost The fear of the ever

present passage of time

 

Changing marching blindly into the future

The present merging into the past

My image remains but a dream

 

And then suddenly The meaning of my love   comes true

 

And I for the first time

Realize that love

Is the meaning I’m searching for

 

And then I know I’ve been metamorphosed

From a worm into a butterfly

Flying confidently to meet my fate

 

Prison Games

 

One morbid mystic fog shrouded morn

I discovered myself naked as one can ever be

On an island in a god damned sea

 

I leaped up screaming How did I arrive? Why had I come?

 

I wondered the confines of the prison

Wondering where the barriers lay

Trying to fight my self imposed isolation

Not knowing I created my own prison

 

I stood up to survey the land

All I could see was you

I walked around the echoing walls

 

All I could ever see was you

I cried out for an end to this torture

 

The walls of the prison closed in The ocean waters   faded into my dreams

 

Now I have awoken

And I perceive the islands in my sleep

Are the islands of my own creation

.

Perhaps the prison called life

Is but a prism showing us the Inner Light?

 

One Night in Bombay, India

 

Published in Man in the Street July 2017

 

 

 

One wild night in Bombay, India

I walked into 20 drinks too sober

On the wicked wrong end of a Friday night booze run

 

On the bad side of the Moon over by where the Martian dudes

Sat drinking their Martian whisky, ogling the Venus maidens

Leering at the earth women who were walking by

Wearing skin tight pants made their eyeballs hurt

 

I gave into the spirit and went over to the Martian dudes

And got drunk on the Martian madness, shot after shot

Smoking some good old-fashioned Mars dust

 

And flew off to the planet Jupiter

Just to have me some fun with a lady

Who 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 Centura, light years from home,

A million miles away, a thousand years in the future

And I had no money, no honey, no way home

 

Still 20 drinks too sober, I just sat down in that jail  And started drinking away my time Drinking fine cold assed Centurion wine

and Pluto Whisky

 

One day I woke up and found myself back in Bombay

Standing outside that that evil bar in the miasmic mist

Over by the Martian whorehouse, down by the Gate of India

 

And I walked up to the Saturn-Pluto babe

And said, man that was some bad shit

Let’s do it again someday, 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

 

 

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

 

 

Ghosts from World War Two

 

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,  please tell people what happened to us.  Please tell the world to not do this again.  Please end the war everywhere. Please Please Please

 

I promise and wake up feeling that I had made a commitment

but to whom and what I knew not.

Unhinged Lunatic Howling at the Full Moon

 

On a moonlit late night

I sat in a bar

 

Twenty drinks too sober

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

 

 

My Mother’s History

By

John (Jake) Cosmos Aller

USA

 

One day many a year ago My mother spoke to me

About her family’s tangled history

She spoke to me

Of lies, half-truths, and myths

Some of which may have been true  And over the course of the evening Her history came alive

She was born in hills of North Little Rock

The 10th of 11 children

Of an ancient dying race

The Cherokees who had ran away

The lost tribe of the Cherokees

Homeless since the trail of tears

Refusniks

Refugees who fled in the hills

Rather than join the rest

In the promised land Of Oklahoma

Her people disappeared

From history’s eyes  They did not exist I did not exist

My history was over As was hers

And so, I learned at last The painful truth

That due to the crimes of politicians

So long ago

My mother’s people

Lost their land, their culture and their hope

And became downtrodden forgotten people

Hillbillies they were called

Living in the hills and mountain dales Clinging to the dim fading memories

Of their once glorious past As proud Cherokees

Now no one knew their name

The old ways were forgotten

And the new world never forgave them

And they never forgave the new world

As they lived on

In the margins of society

Forgotten people

And I vowed that if I lived

Their history would not die As

I knew the truth

And I would become a proud Cherokee  And make my mother proud of me And my accomplishments

And so, when I am down and out

I recall her stories and her warnings

And realize it is up to me

To live my life

To let the Cherokee in me Live his life

And in so doing

My mother’s history does not die

It lives on in me

Until the day I die

Long live the Cherokee nation  Long live my mother

 

 

 

Conversation with Teddy Roosevelt

 

One morning I woke up in the White House I had been summoned back in time

By a mysterious letter I had received

From my hero, Teddy Roosevelt

The letter

Asked me for my advice

And instructed me to go to the white house with the letter And so, I went and presented the letter

And went through a back door and found myself

Back in 1904 being presented to the President

We spent the afternoon and evening talking about the future past

And the present in front of us

And we worked out the problems of the world

Then I told him of the future world to come Of the world wars

Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan

Of presidents to come

And of the great events of the future

And he spoke of his fears

That the future would become a nightmare

Of great powerful corporations Oppressing the little man

Turning everyone into slaves To the powers that be

And that he was determined to fight For the little man

And he hoped that it the end

Freedom would have a chance

To flourish in the world

I left

Not wanting to let him know

That he had failed

That the special interests ruled the world

And that soon the world he knew and love

 

Would become nothing but the dusty myths of history

 

And I wondered what had happened

Where we had gone so wrong

And whether we would find our way back

 

 

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

 

 

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

 

 

             

 Blues

 

One morning as I woke up and walked outside

I saw a brilliant rainbow erupting

Out of the dark soil of my eternal 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

 

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 I saw the rich powerful demon’s erstwhile masters of the universe

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 Christians Jews and Muslims become brothers

I saw people everywhere soaring into the purple crystalline 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 instead

 

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

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 considered 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 mock 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 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 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

 

 

 

 

Prayer to the Computer Gods

 

Every morning

I start my day

Cursing my damn computer

Been doing this for 30 some years Since I bought my first computer

The Atari back in the 80’s

 

There is always something  Once I spilled coffee  On my first computer

The screen fizzled

 

Then green 666 appears

Endless repetition

Of the evil number from revelations

 

Freaked me out

It was 1984 after all

Was my computer making a political point?

 

Then of course

Endless blue screens of death

Fatal error reading disk drive

 

And my favorite computer error haiku

General Failure Reading Disk Drive

Begging the unanswerable question

Who is this General Failure

And why is he reading my disk drive

 

Years ago a computer techie  Told me the secret  that they

don’t want you to know

 

99% of computer problems

Can be solved by rebooting

And 99% of the time

No one knows what went wrong

Or how to fix it

And so it goes and goes

 

Endless computer meltdowns

Mostly harmless

 

A couple of malware incidents

Once my computer was possessed

By evil malware that kept opening

 

And once I had an early version

Of ransom wear

My computer warned me

A dangerous virus had infected

My computer

Pay us money to fix it now

 

Had to take my computer to the shop

Reformate the hard drive

To remove that computer bug

 

But once my computer just died

Loosing half my recent data

Just because it wanted to

No reason given

 

So today instead of cursing up a blue storm

Of my own personal blue screen of death

I offer this short prayer to the computer gods

 

Today just for today

When I turn you on

I want you to do what you are supposed to do

Everything works

Everything is fast

And no more damn computer error haiku

Just do your fucking job

 

One Mystic Shrouded Night

 

One mystic shrouded night

Under the setting light of an evil moon

Beneath the illuminated shadows of death

Jake came out of the jungle swamps

Marching slowly towards his doom

 

The words of friends are lies

The smiles of enemies destroy

The words of a father spells death

The smells of a mother inspire suicide

 

All that matters

Crumbles into dust

Scattered across the uncaring void

 

What if the very essence of Jake

Was but a mistake

What if all that he knew was but a fake Could he ever awake?

 

So, thought Jake

As he flew away into the computer’s terminal

Into the system’s vast amorphous mouth

His very essence a fake

We can never awake

 

Throw up

Throw off the chains that bind you

Deprogram the program

Only then can you be free

 

You can’t exist without a permit to be   Shouted the computer of reality All you see is designed to deceive Where is your permit to be?

Shouted once again the fascist computer of reality

 

Give up while you still can

Numbers can’t fuck your mind

But you can never escape

The prisons of your own mind

 

Heading to Memphis

 

Travelin’ down the highway

Heading’ to Memphis

Don’t know the way

Don’t wanta pay

 

It seemed to me

That if we stop

We will lose the way

 

So, we keep movin’, movin’, movin’

Down the highway in a souped up 55 Chevy

However, she starts into cryin’

 

Because Travelin’ down the HI way

A headin’ to Memphis

 

Don’t know the way

Don’t wanta pay

 

We see the birds and the bees

Over by the chickadee trees

 

It seems to me

They were some perverted bees

 

On the highway

Headin’ to Memphis

 

I got down and started into praying’

That I would be into layin’

And I could get down

 

Over on the highway

Headin’ to Memphis

Because I can see the light of day

 

On the highway

It seems as if God is driving’ a pink Cadillac

Driving’ through the asshole of May

 

At the break of day

God knows the way

 

He doesn’t havta pay  He should be shot

At the break of day

 

Drivin’ down that highway

In the month of May

 

I considered it my sacred duty

To find the way

 

Cars, trucks, hitchhikers fly on by me

People scream on down the hiway

 

There is God in his pink Cadillac

I pull up, rev up and go down

 

The hiway

Headin’ to Memphis

Looking’ for the day

 

Because God is a dog

Driving’ a pink Cadillac

Creating a smog of fog

 

While headin to Memphis

She starts into cryin’

 

I say shut up miss

I’s gots to find the day

 

There he is

God in his pink Caddilac

Trying to fly to the Moon

 

I hop on the cosmic freeway

And fly to Mars

 

There are purple skies on Mars

And green sunsets

 

And the HI way

Still heads to Memphis

 

But I don’t know the way

And I can’t afford to pay

Until the day

 

Yes, until the day

I find God in his pink Cadillac

 

 

 

126

 

And ask the forbidden question What the fuck does it all mean?

 

Walking Through the Woods of Time

 

Walking through the woods of time

In the middle of it all I must scream

 

Walking down a wall

All we can do is die and fall

 

Millions of flashing robots

Interchangeable parts

Billions of buttons to push

 

Confusing roads

Swamps of miasmic deadly gas

Towering inferno of chaos

And I sit alone in a bar

20 drinks too sober

 

To dream away this insanity

Nothing to do but drink away my loneliness

And push my computer’s buttons

As the rights to me have been sold

 

 

Green Trees Don’t Make It

 

Everyday

I look out and see

 

The ugly green trees

Standing guard in front of my house

 

And I think to myself Who owns the trees?  And what do they think of us?

 

Are we their friends?

Are we their enemies?

 

Do the trees think?

Or do they silently watch us, Spies to the celestial emperor?

 

I have pondered this question

Many a morning

 

Who is the owner of these trees?

And why do they silently watch us?

 

I wonder if the trees don’t hate us

And why they don’t protest

 

Every day as we drive back and forth

Emitting poison gases from our mechanical asses

Right into their unprotected faces

 

And every night we eat our dinner

And then give the trees

 

Our polluted leftovers

And laugh as they silently die

 

From our acidic fallout

Constantly floating down on their skin

 

Yes, I wonder about the trees

And the birds and the bees

And everyone else

 

What are they thinking?  Are they plotting revenge? Or are they merely there  Silently, watching, plotting,

 

Designing fiendish plots of revenge

Dreams of vast nuclear destruction

 

Cosmic diseases wiping out everyone in the ass

Oh Yes, I wonder and dream and ponder

 

What is the meaning of those silent green trees?

Standing on the corner

 

Quietly condemning us

With their quite tears, and falling leaves

 

In the winter they stand

Naked and alone

 

Covered with ice cold snow

As we drive by nice and warm

 

And we don’t care

As they stand out in the cold

 

Shivering, plotting warm plans of cosmic revenge Is it too late for us?

 

To become friends with the trees?

Or will the day come

 

When the trees will wake up

And gather together

 

All the other slaves of humanity

 

I have a vision

One morning I will open the door

 

And see an army of wild things

Coming to arrest me

 

For crimes against nature

And I will plead, I did not know

 

And they will laugh and turn me all my kind

Into silent tombs

 

And we will stand out in the cold

Like the green trees

 

Plotting dreams of revenge

For ever and ever

 

Until our day finally comes

And we can go out and kill all the wild things

 

Perhaps we already have

 

My Soul Wants to Fly

 

My soul wants to fly away

From here to there

All over this world

 

And when I get there

I want to be free

As a wild bird

 

Flying into the sun

Emerging on the other end

As a man of steel

 

A man of cosmic dimensions

Flying forever at the speed of sound

 

Leaving far behind the world of lies and deceit

Far, far behind

 

Beneath the eagle’s beak

All I can see is but a reflection

Of anthers dream

What happened when I see

All that I can see is but all I can dream

 

All that I can ever know is but a dream

Tomorrow breaks into dust

At my feet

 

I see that horrid face

Starting at me

From beyond the window of lies

All that I know is but a computer image

 

What can we do

So, I sit and melt away

Forever fleeing

 

Our fates

Nothing but flickering computer images

 

Who Is Master?

Who Is Master?

 

In the beginning of that fateful day

I awoke with a painful way

And looked about me with disgust

All around me were objects to distrust

 

Screaming, meaning, deeming, dreaming  Who was master here

Me or my objects – machinery of fear?

 

I dreamt I was on a street corner

Walking down a street  The thought occurred to me What if all that I saw or seemed to be Was but a trick designed to deceive me?

 

Everywhere I looked

Was unreal, empirical, nightmarish real

I awoke to thunderous applause

 

When will I awake from my dreams Can I live without my nightmares?

Can I be sane while everyone else is insane?

 

Who is master of my life, Me or my machines?

 

 

 

POEM: COSMOS’S COSMIC CALENDAR

 

January

January arrives cold as death warmed over
As I make my annual list of resolutions
Of the great things I would do
The lies I tell myself to keep me going

While recovering from the hangover of the year before
With regrets for the evitable passing of time itself

And snow bound cold nights of wild passion
As we delay death’s knocking on the door

February

February is a strange month
Cold, short and eventful

In the U.S. The political season heats up
As politicians rush about
Making their campaign lies
Full of promises of things to come

As we the 99 % huddle down inside
Watching the lies on TV
Outside Winter’s last dying breath

March

March roars in full of sound and furry
Signifying the future marching down upon us all

And March madness hits the sports world
And politicians meet to plot and scheme

As we bravely battle the cosmic elements
Waiting for the promised spring
Hay fever greets me
With the early spring flowers

 

April

April is indeed the cruelest month of all
So many important events occurred
Kim Il Sung’s Birthday, Hitler’s Birthday

And in the U.S. the dreaded tax man cometh
To take it all away as the flowers overwhelm

And Spring Fever takes hold
Driving us all mad
With strange erotic desires

May

May is in many ways
My second favorite month of all

The flowers are blooming bright
The mountains are aflame with desire
The summer heat is coming

The plans for the year are coming along
The political campaigns heat up

And good movies come out
Star wars arrived
Spider man and superman and batman

All came out to play
In late May
And baseball begins in earnest

And most importantly
My wife was born

June

June is always a month of transition
End of the school year
Summer transfer season
People leaving people coming

Hurricanes and Tornados attacking
And wars starting and people dying

As fire flies buzz about
And rabbits eat my garden

As the summer heat descends upon the land
I walk late at night

Recalling that Watergate
Occurred in June

July

July is the queen of the summer season
As she heats up the land
Throwing storm after summer storm

And politicians run away
After the July forth fireworks

Man landed on the moon
Richard Nixon Left the White House

And we all know that half the year
Has flown by
August

So much has happened
During the hottest most hellish of months
Despite the summer sauna that descends upon the land
Enervating all driving people mad with the heat

World War 1 started
World War 11 ended

Hiroshima ushered in the nuclear age

Hurricanes Katrina and Harvey
And tornado ally
All roar down upon the land

And I met the love of my life
Getting off a bus
One August evening

September

What can one say about September
Like June a month of transitions

And one is filled with ambition
Wanting to finish up what one started
Before the fall arrives
And Winter is hinting it is coming

School starts
New jobs start
New people come into one’s life

And like August’s hangover
Big earth shattering events happen

The fall of the stock market
The housing bubble bursting

The endless budget games
As the politicians argue
Whether to bankrupt the country
To make a political point or two

And 9-11 terrorizing the world
All September’s gifts to the land

October

October is my favorite month of all
The leaves turn
The weather is usually delightful

Just a tease of the coming winter
Fall ball season underway
Baseball games and Halloween madness
ends the month with a huge bang

And I celebrate my legal birth on the 29th
Also the day I legally got married

And on the October 30 1955 I was born
And Rock n Roll was born as well
Coincidence I think not

November

November is one of the strange months
Begins like a hangover of October
Then it turns ugly and weird

Political fever hits the land
Every two years

As the people brave the early November chill
To decide what fools they will send to DC
The politicians lie and scheme and plot
And beg and lie again

And the world turns
And the new leaders emerge

Welcome the new Bosses
Same as the old bosses
Just new packaging

And Donald Trump storms the barricades
Threatening the establishment’s strangle hold
On America and the world

Yes November is a strange month

 

December

Perhaps the loneliness month of all
The most consequential of all the months
And yet also the most depressing end of time
Kind of month

If the apocalypse zombie or otherwise
Were to occur
It would be in December
That is the sort of insane month it is

The end of the year
As darkness settles down on the land

And holiday parties abound
Full of false cheer
And faked love

And for those who don’t celebrate Christmas
A lonely day perhaps at the movies
A few awkward calls to the relatives

Then New Years
Watching the world end
Drinking up a storm

And knowing that the year ended
And you are one step closer to the grave

###

John (“Jake”) Cosmos Aller is a novelist, poet, and former Foreign Service officer having served 27 years with the U.S. State Department in ten countries – Antigua, Barbados, Dominica, Grenada, Korea, India, St Kitts, St Lucia, St Vincent, Spain, and Thailand. and traveled to 45 countries during his career. Jake has been an aspiring novelist for several years and has completed four novels, (Giant Nazi Spiders, “the Great Divorce” and “Jurassic Cruise”, and is pursuing publication. He has been writing poetry and fiction all his life and has published his poetry fiction in over 25 literary journals. Jake grew up in Berkeley, California.

POEM: FALLING RAIN

December 11, 2017 · by Author · in Poetry. ·

By: Jake Cosmos Aller

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

 

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