Monday, April 29, 2013

And I Picked For Her Wildflowers...

There are many pieces to the puzzle. A mosaic is comprised of diversity. At times, anger is prominent. The writer is fueled by emotion. Emotion is raw energy--unfiltered. You can become an unstoppable river of Power, but have you mastered Trust? 
Energy can be spiteful, can be anxious, can be desperate. Do you trust your ability to let go, to succumb to Fate? There is a wise flow, unknown, and it sings. Its music has ushered Poetry into existence for centuries. W/o trust, the writer cannot write. The words will not come if there is a palpable lack of faith--and nothing can hide from this Eye. It has been viewed as dangerous to believe in extraordinary guidance. But isn't that a rather mundane perspective?

Simple bouquet
Purple, white, yellow
Wildflowers from a meadow

Natural bouquet
To a girl
from her fellow

Gathered where
the breeze is
lilac and honeysuckle

Sweet symphony of sensation
Sensorium of Nature
Hand-picked and transplanted

Become enraptured, my Sweet,
and unfurl along the light,
the lofty zones of Imagination.

Friday, April 26, 2013

Build A Statue To Honor Marshall McLuhan

Suppress the truth
w/ entertainment

Give them a tube
to suck media thru

Make spectacle

Give them violence and sex,
rape, murder, incest--

If it's the news
running thru their head

they'll be insensitive
to it on the street.

when they see their brother
beaten-down and suff'ring

they won't entertain
a second glance

do away w/ subtlety
destroy nuance

bludgeon them
in the head

w/ advertisements,
obligate them to buy more

if they don't,
they will feel poor!

even tho there's green water
snaking thru the canyon

eagles gleaming
in noon-day sun

azure sea
and crystal sky

words will fly
until i die

and then another
will soar

from where my horizon

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Between The Lines..

I am the lizard
sunning my belly--
belly of the bard.
have fun in the city,
have soul in the country.
these answers are yours
dispense w/ them wisely.

I remember singing hymnals
in the green carpet pues
i first learned to smell
hypocrisy, there.
i actually believed
i was praising my savior--
i felt a connection
to the Infinite,
and i'm still in dismay
at the audacity of Christians.

i can only write these odes
to misery, to ecstasy.
they are my flights of pure
nothing skewed or censored.

a glimpse of raw music

a primal beat
a primal heart
society was
doomed from the start

too much diversity
to standardize Reality

we reject your pills to
keep us numb

if we don't feel
we'd sooner die

than live
a lie

give me pain
give me tragedy

you can keep your TV
and the vegetable morass

when i die
i will be free

Death will only consummate
my authenticity...

A Day In The Life

Dew-wet grass dampens my feet,
green blades slide underneath--
I walk the lawn w/ a puppy
who better pee!

Our home is not a
Sanctuary of Waste,
but you wouldn't know it

If she wasn't so lively and sweet,
if I didn't admire her playful tenacity,
if I wasn't softened by her head-nuzzling--
O Earth-Mother help me!

But I gain a sense of peace
from the song-bird choir,
my environment blazing green,
alive w/ color!

In living color, I breathe.
Forget reticence in Poetry.
You need an occasion just to speak?
Does mundane blood flow thru your veins?

I think not, Human!
Grow up, Child!
Still, cultivate your Imagination.
Solve moral conundrums

at the workshop
in your head.
All the knowledge of Evolution
resides in your head.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Meditation Is A Stoic Statue...

Meditation is a
stoic statue
w/ interior locomotion.

Serene is
spangling emerald river
unabashedly flowing.

There's a peace
to be found
in the chaos never-ending.

Succumb to
the Wisdom Design,
and laugh at the illusion of control.

There is a flow
which carved
thru Mountains.

If you are struggling
to find an answer--
go to the river.

Forget the human oracles
unless they are preaching:
Explore yourself and actualize the discovery.

Only you can discover
your gift--
others may be able to see it in you.

There is an eye
under this skin--
People judge me like
I'm the blue-ribbon pig
of the fair.

To the shareholders
and stockbrokers,
my talents are gross to witness.

But the goodly country folk
award my brutal honesty, and
encourage my triumph.

I'm not afraid to 
roll 'round in the muck
because I get super clean.

Beware my gleam
in the summer sun
w/ the river unreeling.

They are not my constituents
who attempt to misconstrue
the image of the Mountains.

I must restore Pride
and Joy
to the fertile soil.

Imagine what may bloom!
Appreciate the simple boon
of breath and blood.

What if Mountaineers
revered these hills?

What if we fought
Big Coal and 
Big Pharma?

your backbones

If we don't change and
we'll be left for dead.

Coal towns are
ghost towns who
don't accept and evolve.

Pills are a 
numbing agent
to keep you dull and docile.

Hollow tyrants 
w/ vaults full of currency,
are afraid of Creativity.

Think beyond
and change the world
or die in the shadows

of changeable decadence.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Earth Day 2013

We will learn to work the fields,
give energy,
and energy yield.

I have heard the river call:

I am Power,
Hear me roar!

Be humbled by the verses writ

on sweet green grass, and
purplish ocher leaves.

Messages swim in the streams--

plant your heart in fertile soil,
bloom will Dreams!

Materials only mean

what we
assign to them.

The value of honesty

is inherent
in the deed.

In keeping w/ this theme (honesty), I have prepared a self-interview about the Sensual Parade. I have one chance on this earth, here's my perspective--here's my contribution to the cause. This is in the name of Progress.  We must prevail as one, or separations will result in continual turmoil.

-What is the Sensual Parade?

-As you know, there have been many ‘isms’ in Poetry. There have been many movements. The Sensual Parade is the next step in our journey. It is the perspective of my float. It is nothing I own, it’s just what I was given. I have the power and opportunity to create it in my own image.

-I see. So this is a process of becoming?

-Absolutely. This is about growth. This is about enduring the pain of growth to reach the peaks of your ambition. When you ascertain those heights, everything else dissolves, and you are purely ecstatic!
These poems are written in blood-letters. I guess I really like how Nietzsche says his works are for all and none. The Soul is Universal, but not everyone is aware of it. Potentially, his works, my works, are for everyone. But I think there is a consensus among eagles that we are made this way, and others are made that way. There is no rational explanation for the way Life unfolds. There is no grand answer to all the riddles of the world. Whether it is biology, or environment, or some supreme amalgamation of both of those forces combining to form who we are, we will never really know.

-So the Sensual Parade is about the ways to discover Soul?

-Yes. To quote Blake, “Man has no Body distinct from his Soul, for that called Body is a portion of Soul discerned by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age”.
I use my senses to reach that place which is truly ineffable. It is within, it is without. It is all around and nowhere at all. Whatever it is, it is the source of Life. Not just human life, but in general. Perhaps not everyone is supposed to be aware of that ultimate depth, but these poems are written for all those that are.
I don’t write for anybody but eagles.
I am not being pretentious, I am being honest. Some will mistake me for things that I am not, but I cannot see for them. I cannot shove perspective onto them. I am compelled to offer.
And besides, I cannot worry about those that mistake or misunderstand me. Those are not the ones that matter. The people around me that are kindred and dear are the reason I continue on. They are the reason I overcome the struggle. I don’t enjoy Life so much that I do this just to live. I do it to elevate my dear ones out of the muck. I do it to spread ecstasy and love. I do it because my life-force is inexhaustible, and I am a sanguine darling of this earth! I revel in the release of pain and pressure. And though sometimes I am wounded, my skin is blessed with sanguine resilience. I draw balm from a subterranean well.
This is for the lovers, the dreamers, the people that see beyond the cultural veil! Where you grow-up is not a boundary-line for your evolution. To become authentic you must relinquish ties to all things that do not nourish you, and give you the feeling—Yes! This is me!
When you do that, you are free. Nobody or nothing holds prominence over you. You could be a janitor or a president, but as long as you are in it wholly, you are king!

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Ink & Scroll Still Thrive In the Digital Age

There is a process to writing. Each writer has a different style of doing it. The important thing is to find your's and use it--that's when you become efficient in getting your message out to the reader. It becomes real, natural, smooth~

I'm still new to blogging. Daily, I become more attuned to the tech-tools at my disposal. I'm a classic Poet--my Metamorphosis was nurtured early on the heady milk of the Romantics. For a while, I thought Blake had already recorded every message I desired to. I stayed diligent, and the unknown forces at-play sent me my own words to say. (Perhaps they were already written for me).

I started-out practically copying Goethe and Nietzsche. The style and vigor of their language caused me to swoon for days, and wake-up w/ ink on my face! If you've never read Faust or Thus Spoke Zarathustra, and you want to know what the word masterpiece means, you must set aside time to succumb to their mastery.

It began on notebooks w/ pens. And it was Philosophy--spouting about Nietzsche and Blake. Hero-worship. And then I got it. I don't mean intellectually. That wasn't their message. It was something visceral--an urge to trust my instincts and write my truth and beauty. Your duty is to balance either side, but remember: Passion is your vitality.

W/ a pen, words flow effortlessly. The Infinite Universe would cackle madly if I was seriously trying! I act from the information my senses continuously gather. To some information, you have a natural attraction. Still yet, some information repulses you. This too is only natural. It is alright to admit repulsion. Only then can you discover your hang-up. The key is to accept your repulsion, and let it go. Stay focused on the things which exhilarate you, and you'll find peace and positivity.

I've transplanted this information from my scroll, onto my blog. My process begins w/ a tactile approach. I enjoy holding a leather-bound book--reading then becomes a sensual experience. Although computers--from desktops to tablets--allow us to share information at light-speed. The speed at which we can develop networks has been the greatest allure for me to become more tech-savvy. The writing itself must be sensual. Feel this resonance. The juxtaposition of words and images is easy on the internet. Pictures reinforce your actual message, and you can Google an image of anything!

It's late. I have work in the morning. And I need to take the dog outside. At least I can watch the moon and stars sickle the black night.

The River Knows Ecstasy

Black gloss markings
shine in ceiling-fan light.

Who am I?

Question marks
crowd my Mind.

Stomach tightens
like a drum--

Hit me in the gut
& I'll hum
a visceral melody.

Orpheus Charm--
listen up & openly:

At the source of Life,
there is no separation.

There is one thing,
and it becomes many.

The possibilities of
what Life can become
are infinite.

Nature hath provided

I'll discern & report
the alchemy of the Poem
to the best of my ability.

Brothers & Sisters:
won't you join me in
Good Times!?!?

This is the fastidious freak,
Artemis Blithe!

Observe carefully,
but have fun.

There's no sense
in getting wound-up,
you'll just be undone.

It's sad that Cannabis
is called a drug.

It is quite possibly
the most medicinal thing on Earth.

Its effects are contingent
upon your current mood & motivations.

Some people are happy
playing video games.

I found acceptance.

I write so another human
can have the freedom to play
video games.
I mean to say:
do as you dream.

Not everyone has my biology or psychology.

Born an eagle,
taught to be a sheep.
Inside I wasn't meek,
but I acted to please.

There's only so long
you can charade--
I couldn't keep associating
w/ hypocrites.

I pulled-off the mask,
and sought my own spiritual path.

I became enamored w/ Zen.
So much so, that
lotus flowers
sprouted from my head.

I fell on hard times,
and lost track.

Jim Morrison, and
Nietzsche--I turned to next.

I became free and dangerous.
I went as wild as
my soundest rationale would allow.

Amor Fati!
My placard.

I forgot about everything.
I only cared for drinking whisky,
and reading philosophy--
I felt at home.
I found my kindred eagles, but
they were all dead and gone.

I enjoyed going to parties
w/ stale-as-year-old-bread
and showing them how to let go.

They did things big
in the city,
but they weren't as thoughtful.
They'd never seen a spectacle
w/ such substance.

They sure can drink and party,
but their callous shallowness
was hideous to witness.

I have always felt like
a shaman, or
a martyr.

Pain or Pleasure
are for the herd.
There is something greater!

Peel the layers back,
raw light and freedom remain.
Boundless energy, and Power.

My aim is ecstasy!--
The Ecstatic Revolution!

The Myth needs
a modern interpretation.

Forget the orgies--
we are not utilitarians.

We need to find
the one which makes us whole--
our Soul Symmetry.

I'm talking ex-static.
Instead of stagnate, flow.

Don't settle on an idea
because another human
tells you so.

If the music doesn't resonate
w/in you,
then you know it means nothing.
You must let it go, and
continue searching.

My head was weary from travel
until I found a home.
A sustainable lifestyle.

Nietzsche and Morrison
are my brothers,
but I am not them.
I cannot be them, nor act like them,
but only
learn from them.

Learn from me.
Follow these instructions:
Illuminate your skull
w/ what sets your world aglow.

For me,
it's Family.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Hillbilly Days 2013

Smoke is in the air. Food and cigarettes. I'm just going to write my truth, and walk away.

Working in the sun devours your energy. I've been bled dry today. Lack of food and water only exacerbates this effect. I don't have a dime to my name, but if I did I still wouldn't patronize these vendors, selling astronomically overpriced chow. Hang-on...I'm going to vomit in the garbage can--Capitalism does this to me.
What happened to sharing, lending a hand, providing opportunities to fulfill Dreams? I don't want a fucking handout. I'm not greedy, I don't want more than I need. I just want to provide for my family. Citizens of Appalachia deserve more opportunities than mining coal or flipping burgers.
I spill my blood--it forms into words. Does anyone care? Does anyone appreciate Dreams? Atrophy has ruined America's Imagination. If you don't use it, what the fuck do you think will happen?
How many of you wake-up to work a superfluous job you fucking hate? You receive bare-bones compensation. You realize that your job isn't necessary to Earth, yet you have to put food on the table.
Can we the people say Fuck This! Can we say Fuck watching TV! Fuck eating fast-food! Fuck prescription pills! Fuck Wal-Mart!
Small businesses are being driven into the dirt. Where are the gardens? Where are the farms?
We can make our own clothes w/ hemp. Grow our own food, brew our own wine and beer. We can do anything for ourselves. America, what happened to self-reliance? It is nearly impossible w/o some money upfront. And this saddens me to no end.
Everything is a spectacle. We are bludgeoned w/ advertisements. Buy. Consume. It is difficult to know what to do in such a chaotic maze. It is hard not to feel trapped--and this is wrong. I live in some of the oldest mountain ranges on Earth. Open space and freedom are available everywhere. And Beauty is so overt here that I believe people are sick of it. They must be. They rape the land, and give nothing back. Where is Balance?
America, get hungry for more than the bullshit you are fed. The news is skewed. Beware of agendas, and the motivations behind them. I may have long hair and want to play in the river all day w/ my beautiful family, but I'm not stupid nor lazy, nor cynical. Imagine how difficult it is to remain optimistic in this carnival of celebrity adoration, religious and political propaganda, and social inequality. My Voice may be great, but my platform is miniature--mass-media owns TV, magazines, radio...

The Shriners do good work. It is for a good cause. Realize tho, that Hillbilly Days is just another spectacle to behold. Overpriced food. Drunken and rowdy crowds mixed w/ zombies in a pill-stupor. And there are some calm, quiet, happy, polite folks roaming around as well. I just want some beans and cornbread, some boiled taters and soy milk. Fuck the fried oreos and chicken-on-a-stick! If you want that, you can fucking have it. My question is: Why the fuck do we all have to live here together?

I dream of a solitary island for my family to live. We would have to sustain this island ourselves. But it would be untouched by Man's calumny and desecration. Imagine it--raw and pure! Ours to form. For any ailment, Nature provides a cure. For hunger, fruit trees and wild game. For sickness, herbs and roots for elixirs of health. Nothing is beyond our ability. If we can imagine it, we can create it. Fuck your cynicism! I'm trying to improve Earth. Take a stand, and fight the poison!
Alright. One final momento:

Pikeville, Kentucky
Rapes Mountains 
For Profit

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Welcome Progress

From : And now our (totally optional) prompt! Early on in the month, I asked you to write a valediction — a poem of farewell. Today, let’s try the opposite, and write poems of greeting. There’s lots of things you could greet. The spring? Your new stapler? A favorite classmate? An addition to the menu at your local cafe? The subject’s up to you — now get out there and say “hello!”

I want to welcome the fruition of Progress. I'm not speaking about the gross scale of technological advancement. I welcome a tactile change in the very livelihood of Populace Earth.
Inhabitants deserve an egalitarian government. None of us asked for birth here--at least not to our conscious knowledge--none of us was given the choice. 

Do you know that 1% of the population in America owns 40% of the wealth? There are so many diagrams, charts, and graphs to view from the safety of your comfy couch or favorite lazy-chair, if I mentioned Infinite Possibility would you even care? 
What would it take to become aware? Another Holocaust? Another assassination of an MLK? How many times must a Messenger speak-out before he is heard? 
Heed the Word: Progress approaches!

We should consider it a blessing, and an honor to take the form of this Human body. We must appreciate the heaven available to our Senses! What a play-ground to roam! 

I am burdened to relay the tragic myopia seen in this image, but w/ the strength of a Tyger, I'll grin and bear it. 

I have never witnessed such a dangerous and destructive mentality. If we aren't going to care for this Earth, who will? If you are so pious and godly, why not becomes stewards of said god's creation? Are you praying for Death? Is it so bad here? Are you preaching for the end? Do you desire for your Revelations to occur? Can you be so foolish as to overlook Eden-manifest? 

Humans have been blessed w/ incredible powers of observation, ingenuity, and imagination. We create the future, and we make discoveries from Nature's design. The winged design of birds led to our aviation by air-plane.  The spiral is a symbol of Journeying. Perpetual motion. Our double-helix (DNA). 

Why should we settle for the beliefs of the past? Our environment has new demands. Responsibility. Cultivating a symbiotic relationship w/ our environment is primary--goal number one.

If we want to call this society civilized it is about goddamn time we show it! Stop the masquerade!
You can stop supporting fast-food and start growing a garden, helping a friend in their garden, patronizing farmer's markets, or even developing an actualized awareness of what you do eat. Consumption. What do you eat?
The Sustainability Initiative needs to become the priority of all Earth. Our planet is becoming decadent, and Humanity is to blame.

Scale it down to your individual perspective for a moment... 
Imagine witnessing one single human sit atop a hill, and bask in halcyon sunlight. Fruit trees flourish his hill. He has stockpiled casks of the headiest beer, dried meat, smoked cheese, herbs and roots for tea--now appearing is an angel of a girl by his side--his sweet Symmetry! The Mandala of his Vision...
What if he, in all his lush abundance and prevalence--when asked by you--denied you the opportunity to share in his dominion of prosperity? He thinks himself superior because his skill of accumulation?.?. 

What a meager action. He doesn't appreciate his own breath of life. 
A real man will support his family. A sack-of-shit man will deny him the opportunity.

With sanguine strength and resilience, my reader, we shall overcome them.

Welcome Progress!

Tuesday, April 16, 2013


The Night illuminated by star-light.
Lightning storms rumble--thunder echoes thru the valley.
Pulsating light cracks the sky,
and the heat-mist becomes alive and visible for a moment.

At the Mtn. top,
it is only open air.
No ceiling to bear
its hideous lid--
plenty of room
to imagine.

Like a whip
to the back,
thunder cracks!
Pink bolts sizzle.
The purple air
swells w/ heat.
You can smell rain
in the air, but it hasn't
come yet.

I imagine I
am Caduceus--
the symbol of health and vigor.
This sanguine storm rumbling thru
my Mind is alive on the outside.
The decibels make glass shatter.
Imagine harnessing such power,
and focusing it.
Build a prism, not a prison.
Shine and give, don't trap the light.

Snakes w/ wings.
Red, sanguine.
Thunder rolls, lightning strikes.

Toil hath made me weary.
I'm alright--I need some sleep.
It is time to Dream.
Something inside
stays awake all the time,
even if you
never wake-up
to pay attention.

Monday, April 15, 2013

Here's My Heart

From : And now our (again — totally optional) prompt! Today, I challenge you to write a pantun. Not a pantoum— though they are related. The pantun is a traditional Malay form, a style of which was later adapted into French and then English as the pantoum. A pantun consists of rhymed quatrains (abab), with 8-12 syllables per line. The first two lines of each quatrain aren’t meant to have a formal, logical link to the second two lines, although the two halves of each quatrain are supposed to have an imaginative or imagistic connection.

I can't fit into a prompt. To Hell w/ it! Here's my Heart.

Look at you in your lavender dress!
I've seen full fields of hyacinth flowers.
If I searched forevermore, I'd be hard-pressed
to find another fair enough,
who could give justice this royal ensemble.

Love was just a word
until my heart became
a busted cistern.
My streets were filled w/ blood.
And You came
to tend my wounds
and cauterize my lacerations.

Your touch is emollient enough
to soothe a drunken beast
who rages at the facade
of the civilized world.

I learned to forget.
I shifted my focus.
W/ you in my world,
I put positive thoughts
into action.

w/o losing Style.
An imperative to learn
for the excess-refined.

You can still have fun.
Your former excess
serves a valuable lesson.
Your experience becomes wisdom.

I say all this w/ a contingent present:
Prioritize your Perspective.
Accept what you must do,
and relinquish the weight of
what doesn't truly matter.

Look at you in your lavender dress.
Our little-girl sleeps in
her big-girl bed.

I never thought those words
would be mine to utter.
It goes back to acceptance.
Knowing the difference
in biology and psychology.

What does blood matter
to a real man?
He will provide love and laughter
w/o hesitation 
when Destiny becomes his.

Psychology is the seed of Life.
What are you made of?
Nurture the seed.
Provide light and nutrients.

Perhaps you are cruel of heart.
Feeding unhealthy desires
which are better to deny.

I would raze your lot,
and that would be justice.
But Wisdom says to let go,
let go, let go.

My Girl basks in the sun
w/ her lavender dress on.
The bubbling laughter of our child
plays in my Mind, crystallized to Memory.

I am but a winged dove,
driven thru snow,
to find home.

How could I ever 
let this go?

An action made impossible
by the stars of Fate.
Or call it Free Will--
We choose to be together.

And I can't deny
our time spent in the foamy breakers,
crashing hard on rocky shore.
But we never turned our back
on one another--always facing--
to assure--it's alright.

My inability to reveal
the depths of my Love
by word of Poem,
is not a strike against my Will--
I stammer at it nonetheless.

How sublime I rightly feel
when skin is skin ensconced in
Ecstasy's design!

Love is a work of Art.
Its work is endless,
and will never find summation.
This is just a taste of honey
given to you
for the eagle's milk
which healed me.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Herald of Justice

From : And now, our prompt. Today’s should be fun — I hope. I challenge you to write a persona poem — that is, a poem in the voice of a particular person who isn’t you. But I’d like you to choose a very particular kind of person. How about a poem in the voice of a superhero (or a supervillain)? Comic book characters are very much like mythological characters — they tend to embody big-picture values or personality traits. Good or bad. Loyal or disloyal! (Heck — some comic book characters are mythologial characters — think of Thor). And like mythological characters, superheroes and supervillains let us tap into deep-seated cultural tropes. So go for it. Whether you identify with Batman, Robin or – gulp – the Joker, let’s hear your poems in another voice. Happy writing!

Herald of Justice
I've witnessed street-scum parade thru my city, 
never having to answer for their injustices.
"The river runs red
down the legs of the city".
Their misdoings will be paid for
by blood sacrifice.
And if they won't offer it willingly,
blood will be cut from their veins!

Do not repent to a god which has shunned you.
Repent to your fellow humans.
Ask your brothers and sisters to forgive you--
rapists, murderers, drug-addicts, thieves!
They too may shun you.
And you'll just have to bleed.

Did you really think you could
sell narcotics to misguided youth
and not have to answer to me?

I am the Herald of Justice!
A vigilante of sorts--
let's rob the rich 
and save the poor!

Did you really think you could
embezzle money all week,
and be saved on Sunday?
Stupid pigs! Go play dead
in your money-market pig-pen.
I'll check your bodies before I leave
to make sure you aren't suffering.
My mercy be praised!
For your kind has injected
a torpor in media.
Do not hate the masses for
their stupidity or ignorance.
Give them a chance to see truth,
and make decisions for themselves!
Control sets the truly wise
against you.

Did you really think you could
take your money out of coal,
invest in natural gas, use tree-huggers 
as a distraction, and not answer to me?
The coal miners can adapt to other jobs.
The tree-huggers realize that trees
produce oxygen. You want to turn the miners
against people who are trying to save the planet?
I relinquish my mercy on you.
Your bloodless bodies
will become the flags of Justice--
Get down on your knees and beg 
Humankind for forgiveness!
You think your knavery
and deep pockets can keep you safe.
An audaciously foolish idea.
Tell Humankind you are sorry
for raping the planet!

I am the Herald of Justice.
I work for Humankind.
I seek-out the coal barons,
the money-hounds and money-whores
of Wall-street, 
the corporate elite,
the bureaucracy,
the preachers of dogma and control,
the media moguls,
those w/ a false sense of enlightenment, of entitlement.
If they won't repent to their fellow Humans,
and ask forgiveness for their wretchedness,
they will pay w/ blood--
Herald of Justice!

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Serenity Poems

From : And now our (totally optional) prompt. Yesterday’s prompt of saying what you’d never say was sort of a doozy — rather emotionally intense, I think, for a lot of you! So for today, let’s relax. Your prompt for today is simply to take a walk. Make notes — mental or otherwise — on what you see on your walk, and incorporate these notes into your poem. A bit more serene and observational than yesterday, and hopefully a nice, calming poem to begin your weekend with. Happy writing!
First Movement
Listen to the music
                in the wind.
Such is the sound 
              of Poetry, 
my Dear.

World: how long is
             your attention span?
If you take time 
             to relieve stress
you'll find you become
             more productive.

Second Movement
The Eagle glides
        thru the trees.
He doesn't even
        flap his wings.
Solemnly smooth demeanor--
        he floats the currents
of the Breeze.

On unprecedented precedent,
         he finds the waves
to rise upon.
Coolly climbing
          thru azure sea
like the Sun
          at Dawn.

Friday, April 12, 2013

The Surprise Ending

From 4/11/13 : And now, our prompt! Today I challenge you to write a tanka. This, like the “American” cinquain, is a poem based on syllables, with the pattern being 5-7-5-7-7. They work best when those final two 7-syllable lines contain a sort of turn or surprise that the first three lines might not wholly anticipate. You can string a bunch of them together to make a multi-stanza poem, or just write one!
Surprise Ending
I've been whisky's fool,
loosened out unto wild Night,
lost in drunken flight.
I found the love of my life--
My excess became refined.

I finally found

This vital swoon--deeper than drink--
to replenish me.
I thought I'd die on sand-banks,
in the arms of moon-washed trees...

Stone parameters are tough on poetry...

Why Are You My Boss?

From : And now, the prompt.  In particular, today I challenge you to “write a poem consisting entirely of things you’d like to say, but never would, to a parent, lover, sibling, child, teacher, roommate, best friend, mayor, president, corporate CEO, etc.”

Why Are You My Boss?
You make no conscious effort 
to watch what you eat, to support employees.
You have a pig-head, fat and ugly, w/ a blond wig.

Your instructions are contradictory.
Contradictions are okay if
you discover something better along the way,
and you notify the team of the change.
In your case, you don't appreciate your job
and your apathy runs downhill.
I am flooded w/ 
your mindless bullshit.
Is it 10 chairs, or 20?

What a gross calamity
of a human being!
Punctuation allows me
limited exclamation--
but you suck!!!

It is free speech.
Unruly, albeit.
Vigorous and virile (I hope).
I want to burn the status-quo
like a tapestry in flames!

My boss is just a corporate ho
for a fatter pig-boss to ream!
Have you seen the lack of Soul
in the world today?

Malnourished are we
by the values of our own creation.
When money becomes your god,
material is your elation.

Is a Lexus worth
giving-up an
honest heart, an aware Mind?

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Link to E-Book...

Here is a link to an e-book I published a couple months ago. Check it out for an Avant-Garde presentation of Poetry. Also viewed as a collection of philosophy in motion.

The Truth About Power

I knew that controversy awaited me when I first spoke-up.
There was a fire in my guts--a thirst for more than the common draught.
I saw Eden manifest. A garden of unspeakable beauty.
Take your time imagining that. Design it for yourself.
You possess infinite power--tucked safely away in your skull.
A realization should occur. WoW! You don't need a preacher to interpret.
What Power!
Does it frighten you?--you hold the power to actualize Dreams!

My Salvation Came Thru Poetry

From :
And now, the (again, optional) prompt. Many of us have read and even written love poems. But have you written an un-love poem? An un-love poem isn’t a poem of hate, exactly — that might be a bit too shrill or boring. It’s more like a poem of sarcastic dislike.

I gave you my heart before I knew
that dismay

I awaited my salvation--
promised thru you--
with a child's eagerness on Christmas Eve.

Talk about un-love.
Talk about hate.
I've moved-on--you're too late.

I relinquished the weight of Religion.
I shed that skin years ago.
My Spirit has never been freer! 

I'm able to speak about it now.
I can joke w/ the cosmic clowns.
They contact me down at the river.

They say, What a sham you bought into!
I say, I was a mere lamb at the time,
but I have become sublime!

They ask, What did it for you?
I reply, I researched my lineage
on the Poet's family-tree.

They wondered, What did you find?
I responded, Heresy!
And good times!

Still unsure, What do you mean?
I, Enjoy the ride, find your niche,
laugh at naysayers, float the river-breeze...

They, You are wise, earthling.
I, My salvation came
thru Poetry.