Thursday, February 11, 2010

some poems from 1st decade of 21st Century

"MASKS" ('01 - inspired by a dream)

We are all given them
In our childhood
You are This
I am That
Defining our nature
For others to feel safe
The Mask tells all
Who we are
And we play into it
By compulsion
Like puppets on a string
It's an old, old story
Now given new names
Psychological Profiling
But the result is the same
For the Mask is like a chain
To be truly Free
We must unleash our Spirit
And shine like the Star
That each of us truly is

(published in the anthology WAVES OF WONDER, 2002; and a spoken-word CD).

untitled (Jeanette) ('01)

Her eyes are amazing
Full of intelligence
And beauty
Her smile
Charms my soul
A throaty laugh
Is music to my ear
The way her long hair
Cascades over her shoulders
And down her back
Her lithe body
Strong and graceful
How could I not love her
The way she fills me
With joy
I bask in her glow
And thrive on her
It does not matter
That she doesn't return
My love
But that she cares for me
And trusts me
Is wonderful
She loves another
And as long as she is happy
How could I interfere
Time with her is precious
I cannot impose
I appreciate our friendship
Too much for that
I respect
And admire her
She is my Muse
Nothing wrong with that

untitled ('01)

I wander through life
Setting no anchor
I grow weary of places
And the people who
Inhabit them
Always the same
Which I cannot play
Would I?
If I could?
An academic question
I never fit in
Even among the fringe groups
I'm an Outsider
Accepted by few
Understood by fewer
Is it that I'm so
I just think
And that scares people
Especially sheep
As I grow older
It becomes harder
I'm supposed to have
Settled down
Or for
But I haven't
I don't follow
The rules
I follow the beat
Of my own drummer
And it's a lonely
But I am compelled
By some force
Beyond my understanding
I've tried to find
My place
Only to be upheaved
By my wunderlust
Or disgust
People come in
And out
Of my life
Even those I'd like
To stay
Only a few remain
It's been a fairly
Good life
If tumultuous
I even tried
Which was a miserable failure
Even though she too
Was an Outsider
She got dazzled
By the Glamour
Of the Inside
And tried to
Drag me along
Kicking and screaming
So I left
Against her will-fullness
Made some changes
But it wasn't enough
I had worn out my welcome
And played it
To the hilt
So I
Came to a new place
Only to find
Which I abhor
But such is
My life
What to do

untitled ('01)

Her I sit
A stupid lil' shit
What goes thru my mind
Is all of a nutty kind
I keep acting silly
Going all willy-nilly
As if I was a child
Not a middle-aged mild

untitled (unfinished '01)

For love he always burns
But he never learns
From the resulting pain
Not to put his hand in the flame
or - Not to open his heart again

untitled ('01)

Just an old man
Waiting for Death
His life is over
It is all past
A full life
He wishes
He still had
He's lost his
Ability to create
His love life
Is over
His existence
Boring routine
On and on
He goes
No future
Only the past
To remember

untitled ('01)

And so Pierrot's
Hopes are dashed
He opened his heart
To have it smashed
He dreamt of
Love again
Always the same
There is no one
For him
No one
To love him
For himself

untitled ('03?)

The illusion
A mere phantasm
Into which we
Project our
Foolish hopes
It drives out
Distracts the mind
Sickens the body
What value has it
Poets laud it
And bemoan it
It fells even
The strongest
To give into
Such weakness
Is folly
I am one of the
Who has felt it
With every fiber of
My being
Most cannot
Lucky them
They only play at it
Based on
Hollywood drivel
Or Pop Music tripe
I am a
True Romantic
I live
To the fullest
There are so few
Of us
It is often a
Lonely life
So many Posers
In the world

This is an unfinished poem I started back in '03, but abandoned due to too much pretention; but I'll share it anyway - maybe you'll get a laugh:

"Fallen Stars"

I feel like an
Ethereal Being
Trapped in a prison of Flesh
I don't belong
I'm always two steps
Behind the rest
I wander the wastelands
Of civilisation
Wondering what it all
I am a seeker
Who never finds the
Only more
Is there a god?
Singular or plural?
Male, female?
Neither, both?
Does he/she/it
Give a shit?
What is all this
I meet so many
Who feel likewise
And so many who think
They know
Those sound even more
Are we the
Fallen Angels?
Is this
Our punishment?
Is human existence
The bowels of Hell?
Why do so many
While others wallow
In ingnorance
Ah, blissful ignorance
Is so tenuous
Based on perception
Muddled by Fear
There are always
Running the world
Ruining the world
For their own
Childish pleasures
They are the lowest
Common denominator
Spouting drivel
For the masses
Are we not men?
If women ran the
Could they possibly
Do worse?
I am Lucifer
Hear me roar
I rale against
The heavens
And their indifference
To serve man
As a side dish
With fava beans
And a nice chianti
I'm inundated
With pop allusions
In this time
Can one escape
Fresher breath?
Whiter teeth?
Cleaner skin?
Without disappearing
Ah, the good old days
When were those?
Before Adam
I think
Though Lilith
Was a fun girl
Is it pretentious
To call myself
When I'm just another
In the freak show?
So fucking what
Is just another
Defense mechanism
I long for
The sweet embrace
Of eternal night
I have sought
So often
But the little fucker
Always leaves me
As he scampers away
At my desire
He's such a tease
As I drag my
Flesh bag
After him
Life drags on
Like a slow
Moving train
I wander from
Car to car
Meeting other
Lost souls
Stabbing at the
As some jump off
In to the cradle of
What keeps me
From it
I should've been dead
So many times
But here I linger
Like forgotten
Moldy round the
I've outlived
My time
Though I never
Belonged in one
My cross to bear
Like a tin martyr

untitled ('04)

I've come so far
Yet hardly moved an inch
I've learned so much
Yet know nothing
The more I know
The more I know I don't know
Knowledge has no answers
It only opens more questions
I try to expand my mind
Only to find myself
Burdened with limitations
I know most are only illusions
But I don't know how to break free
And even that is an illusion
How to break free
Of my own bonds
How do I stop
Suffocating my True Will
How do I find my freedom
With the swollen masses
Acquiescing to mind-slavery
How do I stop the Pain

This one intended as a prologue for my novel in progress DAMNATION...


Among the ethers did I roam
With my fellow beings of light
The firmament was our home
The beauty of eternal night
We were blessed lacking for naught
We tripped the light fantastic
Playing as all beings aught
Our imaginations elastic
All life was a story told
We watched with such glee
Till humans did I behold
Their stories fascinating to see
I wandered over the beautiful Earth
Viewing their creative madness
Rising to the heights of mirth
Then sinking into such sadness
I spent much time with these creatures
With those on high, and born low
With poets, soldiers, teachers,
Monks, beggars, those in the know
Then from the heavens was I cast
For overreaching curiosity
Into human flesh recast
Which taught me their true ferocity

I never knew my real father.
He was a travelling mentalist,
Using the stage name of Dr. Faustus,
Who seduced my Mother,
An aspiring singer,
Then moved on.
Mom married an airforceman,
Who gave me his surname,
Till they divorced a coupla years later.
I was born via cesarean, prematurely,
With a stillborn brother.
Mom took me to my first movie,
When I was 6 months old.
I was entranced.
She took me all the time,
As I would never make a fuss,
But watch the entire movie.
I was also a beach baby,
Learning to swim,
Long before I could walk.
My first theatre experience was
When I played Baby New Year
A couple of months before my 2nd Birthday.
When I was 3 she married an
Ex-musician turned businessman.
He adopted me; and along came a
Sister, then a brother.
One Summer a cousin
Came to visit.
He was 18, I was 5.
We bonded.
Two weeks later he was
In a motorcycle accident.
I realized my mortality.
At age 6, I was labelled a
Dreamer, and slow to learn.
The other kids, at Catholic school,
Tormented me mercilessly.
And so my life as an outsider
Occasionally I met others like me.
With whom I had many adventures.
I had my first Lucid Dream
When I was 7.
I floated up out of my body,
Out my 2nd story window,
Into the overgrown garden next door,
Where I met various creatures,
With whom I felt at home.
As I returned to my body,
I met my dead twin brother,
Who said he'd be with me
In the Summer
Between 2nd and 3rd grades
One of my classmates
Along with her little sister
Were raped and strangled
A few blocks from their home.
Mom and Dad
When I was 9.
Dad played the
Sympathy game.
But I did see a lot
More of him.
He moved in with
His parents.
I spent time there
Hanging with the local
Pre-teen gang
Known as the 43rd Avenue Gang
(Pee-wee gangs in that 'hood
Were named for freeway off-ramps).
One time, he took
Me to the desert
To visit a client
Who had a daughter.
I was 9, she was 10
And oh so cute.
We skinny-dipped,
Slept in the same bed,
Explored each other.
Mom married a TV exec;
Their marriage was very volatile.
Passion is a two-edged sword.
One day, while living in his house,
Some friends and I played in the
Fields behind (which used to be
Farm land), coming upon a tree
In which sat a young man.
There was something magical
About him, in the truly
Hippie fashion.
He was leaving for Viet Nam
On the morrow.
He died there.
Meanwhile, this was the 60's
And while my little world
Kept being shattered
By circumstances beyond my control
There was upheaval throughout the land.
People were fed up with hierarchical
It was time for a change;
People took to the streets
For equality, environment, peace,
The high school up the street
Had riots in the playground
And teachers cars were torched.
There's always a dark side to
The power elite have been trying
To take back lost ground
Ever since.
When I was 10
We moved to a
Mountain resort
So I could breathe.
The smog in L.A. was that bad.
By the time I was a teenager
I suffered from Melancholia,
And had an Inferiority Complex,
Which interfered with my
Interest in girls.
I wrote compulsively
Stories, skits, poems, puppet plays.
I performed whenever possible,
Puppets, ventriloquism, acting,
Magic, clowning, story-telling,
The high school band, and a local ice show.
At age 12 or 13 I was
Put on Ritalin
And some other
These caused intense
Conceptual hallucinations.
I was afraid God
Would accidently step on us.
When I was 14, time with a
Trusted elder
Turned ugly
As he lusted after me
Becoming all hands
When he'd had a few.
2 deaths when I was 15;
An ex-girlfriend
In a small boat
Hit direct on by a speedboat
Dead before she hit the water;
My favorite uncle finished
His year long descent
Through Hepatitis.
One fine day
I hiked deep
Into the woods
I had only a piece of
Rope with me
Once I was far, far away
I found a tree
With a sturdy branch
I could climb up to
Which I did.
I tied one end of the
Round the branch
The other end round
My neck
Then jumped down.
There was the sound
Of a raging sea.
The trees rushed about
Then the Earth reached up
And smacked me hard.
When I opened my eyes again
I lay on the ground.
I looked up
Saw broken rope
Hanging from the branch.
I buried the noose end.
I couldn't move my neck for a week.
I said I fell out of bed.
[My first real love
Was at 16, she 1 year
And 1 day younger.
I wasn't cool enough for
Her, but she liked the
Attention, including the
Bad poetry I wrote.
She even disrupted my
Involvement with her twin sister,
Out of petty jealousy.]
I was diagnosed with
Simple Schizophrenia at 17.
That year, too, I was introduced
To the Faust story
Via Goethe in a lit class
We did a staged reading.
I played Mephistopheles.
Then, during the assembly
Where we were performing
While I tried to relax
Outside the auditorium
A classmate, some 8 feet away
Blew off his hands
Set himself on fire
With a homemade bomb.
I frantically searched for
Something to put out the fire
But there was nothing
And I got lost in the smoke.
Later, I made one of my
Super 8mm movies
About a young, modern
in which I played the lead,
And Mephistopheles, in a Bela Lugosi mask.
The same year
A usually benevolent ghost in our house
Was scaring my sister
So I performed an
(Years later we found out the Ghost
Had moved into the house next door).
When I was 18 I was seduced
By a Succubus, who took my virginity and my seed
Then cast me aside,
And kept our daughter to herself,
Which put me into deep despair,
Losing my Christian faith,
I smoked pot daily, and
Drank heavily, for almost year,
Until Mom threw me on a
Plane for Europe
Which changed my life.


I am a Warrior-Poet
I strive ever forward
Taking the trajectory of the
Titanic Hero
I rise above the din of
The Herd
Who crush any underfoot
Who show signs of "weakness"
But I have been too strong
Even I cannot break my Will
And none other that would try
Is equal to the task
Only weaklings want such power
And as I rend the veil from
Mine eyes
I feel the Truth
Course through me
Like Fire
The fiercenss grows
I fight for the purity of
Which is a struggle against the
That is my own
And I must own it
In order to destroy it's power
And I Will
For I do
And none
Save I
Shall stop me

untitled ('05)

In the Beginning
Were the Words
And God had quite a
Yak fest
He* spewed forth much
In the way of Illusion
Amongst which
Were certain apes
In order to differentiate
From the other apes
Climbed into caves
And donned other animals' skins
And declared themselves
Ah, what supreme folly

*('cause we all know how Men love to talk about themselves)

"DEATH DREAMS OF DR. FAUSTUS" ('05 - originally conceived as a prologue)

There was, or is, this man whom we call Faust,
Into deepest despair he became doused,
From which he could not, by good friends, be roused,
Even with a good shaking.

Within him, as in all, a God asleep,
A loss of potential that makes him weep,
The shadows that haunt him he should not keep,
For his soul is a quaking.

And too that Devil whose real name is Fear,
Is constantly whispering in his ear,
So as to continuously keep steer
The Sleeping God from waking.

Using hubris to drive to distraction,
Reminding him of ev'ry infraction,
Gib-jabbering without relaxation,
Which keeps him on mistaking.

His failures always play out in his mind,
Ridiculous old movies of a kind,
Searching for the alternatives to find
The memories are raking.

How easily he can lift the veil,
If only he accepted without fail,
Instead, against the heavens does he rail,
His life mis'rable making.

He circumnavigates this endless loop,
Of his Devil be he the supreme dupe,
His God never be able to recoup
From his own mind's forsaking.

The apex of his True Self justly knows
All this absolute nonsense really blows,
But not stopping it, on and on he goes,
Trusting the liar's faking.

Far too often he fails this or that test
On his interminable hero's quest,
If he would truly do his level best,
He could mend his heart's aching.

But he insistently breaks his own heart,
Pretending it's supposed to feed his Art,
Playing over and over silly part,
From life's pleasures not taking.

He's gone and thrown himself into a hole,
Letting himself be cast into a role
Which cannot, and does not, fulfill his soul,
That so much needs a slaking.

As with all he is the one who holds the key,
If he would now open his eyes to see,
He could find the true meaning of To Be,
Instead of a half baking.

untitled ('05)

He wanted me to play
So he could be the
And push me for the
He believes he so rightly
Being a good Catholic
He knows all about his
But also that he cannot be
That he has gone beyond
He pushes and he pushes and he pushes
As well as figuritively
But I manage to keep my
For after all I'm playing
And then the cops show

untitled ('09)

That elusive treasure
I've sought on and off
For decades
To no avail
Over and over what I find
Is Fool's Gold
I'm a Warrior-Poet
And desire a Priestess
But then I fall for weaklings
This my Achilles' Heel
And the few strong enough
I meet only briefly
Or some obstacle prevents
Our being together
And yet still do I long for
True Love, not the usual
Externalized, objectified
Pop entertainment variety
Which would only bore me
But where is one
Who can keep apace?
Why does Fate
Constantly interfere?
And yet
I've been more creative
When I've turned my back on
When I've let none
Distract me
Can I not have both?
Are they mutually exclusive?
Why would that be?
And how do I change it?
For I do so want
And Art as well
But I don't think I'll ever find


Wrote this a couple days ago, while doing yoga and listening to Frank Zappa:

Mother Earth
Why do you tarry
Letting this cancer grow
Why not wipe us
From your hide
Before we kill all
That makes you special
If we had more respect
We might deserve your
But humans care only
About our own egos
We are all guilty
As sin
Punish us
As you aught
Bring that supposed
"Wrath of god"
The more arrogant
Keep calling on
Thinking themselves
If you don't
All will be lost
Such a waist

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