Tag: poety soup

  • 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

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    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

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    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

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    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

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    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

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    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

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    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

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    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

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    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

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    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

     

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    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

    src=”https://theworldaccordingtocosmos.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/god-picture-for-Hell-is-Here-.jpg” alt=”” width=”255″ height=”198″ class=”alignnone size-full wp-image-1229″ />

    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