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