ronin poetry: February 2010

LETTERS BETWEEN LOVERS (female)

Letter writing is a lost art. Few do it nowadays. Thats how he got me. But thats also how I got him.
But now my passions need reinvigoration. Where is the fierceness. Like the love lingering after a betrayal. Knowing how weak I am. Itll soon be time to revisit the past and reinvent it Where I get all the really killer lines. Memories are tangible things. But the horrible thought lingering like a slow kiss is still there. Where would I be if I was still her.
I know I love him although thoughts of strangling the toad in his sleep also appeals to me.

THE ANATOMY OF MONSTERS –( Male)

No sir, we are not leaving here without her.
The world went black, at 4:20 ish. It was mid August. A fine day for a lot of people just to walk. It was a slow day. One of my co-workers got caught in an elevator. So I decided to break the door off to get her out. Since 2001 the company had a ton of building emergency equipment especially for such eventualities. A few were paniced about looters, this is New York. But after 2001 it seemed a lot less likely. The thoughts raced through our heads in the beginning were we hit again. Were we hit again. And once again I wanted a particular mans head on a pike.
( The sounds of metal on metal )
The door finally gave way and we made the long walk to the ground floor from the 36th floor.
The walk to the bar reminded me of another long walk a few years earlier. Wounds still fresh. My mind wandered.
You know they used to bury suicides at crossroads. And New York is the crossroads of the world. It was time to go and I established myself well in the pecking order. The place is packed and the alpha in me scream for dominance. I decided to go to my bar. The refirgeration was shot so there was a lot of free beer to be had. And I needed a drink.
I walked into a room of furtive glances, No man should be the master of another. And I froze when the recognition hit that I too served someone. Cause if that spiteful animal of regret sees me its over. The last shall be first, Im a poet not a politician. I keep my loyalties secret. Even with injustices clouding my mind. There is savage repression quelling the dissent and the uprising must end here the elite are thinking to themselves. An execution is really quite personal. Its not so easy to kill the boogeyman. There is blood in the water and all I smell is the slaughterhouse. I cannot weep with my head so full of lead. Tonight Ill hear the footfalls. And yet Ill be safe as your guest. Criminal poets only die in their sleep. Our slogans will ring again. Some names have been changed to protect the guilty. Others to wait for the statutes of limitations to end.
I decided to through a party for the suicide that stopped our train, even through we never knew him. I thought someone should mourn him. It just seemed wrong that everyone else was bitching about how late they were going to be. I was way after last call. Over the past year we had been to more than our share of funerals, some thought fate finally catch them, some were just unlucky, and some had their bodies turn against them.
Monsters are what I know best. Spend enough time with them you begin to identify with them. You see your own inner monster, but also something else. A fragment of radiance peering under the door. The ambient light. This collection of monologues all speak in some way to that. These are stories collected by me from all the lovely lunatics, Ive met rambling and roving trying to find a form. This play is my boneyard. These are my orphans, my pieces without a play. They are the homeless creatures under the bed, the derelict things in the closet, the dwellers in the dark, and they are the ambient light. That ray of eminence that strikes some as a mirage and others as a beacon. It was always that light which kept the monsters at bay. The ghosts in their graveyards and the suicides buried in their crossroads. Maybe now they can finally get some rest.

DREAM (Female)

I dreamed once when I drowned in a storm, my father the sun couldn't save me. But made me a bird. I resented my death. I began to carry small stones and pieces of wood from the shore and dropped them in the water. One day my pride asked me why. I told him that I was going to fill it up so no one would ever drown again .He knocked my island away. And laughed, and to this day I still try. But, its never enough, I am famine and I hunger. I get one day and night, to eat my fill, taste life, before the hunger starts again I'm mostly scared, a little angry, the rest indifferent. The first moment is the one you can savor the most, like the peach just before you bite. The rest never works itself up to that first minute of glances, unease then ecstasy. I'm fading to black. Transparent till the very end. I'm echo, a shadow of a sound. The sound in it's rhythmic, thumpings, like a beds squeaking springs. I miss my flesh. I think about a young me, how the gods made me repeat everything that was said to me, my lover thinking I was mocking him, spurned me. I left the world, hid in a cave and I repeat all the worlds cries.
So you wont give me and answer, youll tell me Im wrong but you wont point out a situation. But assume I am somehow to blame. Thats really fucking unfair, If not them quit your bitching. Where do you begin once the hate starts? Give me an option but to hate back. No poetry in fits and starts like backseat love. Ugly, rude and vicious human interaction.

Say yes, yes, yes, yes, please yes, now yes.

That is all that need be said. Then it begins a point of origin. Like the life of the spider everything in the weave. Say yes. How fucking hard is that? Denial doesnt suit you and it sure as hell doesnt suit me. I accept you without love and without judgement. Take you, accept you, cradle you, but what else is there but yes? Say yes and with me their is unending validation. Deficits are for politicians. Ill live with my debts my means beings so limited. Say yes loud enough for me to hear it. Just once, say yes, just once.

TAKING ( Female)

Im talking; Ill send it out to you. And know with this Ive doomed you. It is a view. A view too grand to be separated by pundits dictating from the left or right. This is not a speech for ideologues that wait for limited attention spans to kick in. To be forgotten. All the crimes and misdeeds and investigations become historical conjecture. The voices sound like paranoid schizophrenia when one mentions the word, conspiracy.
I am a big fan of conspiracy. I fear one party systems. Lets face it. This nation was started by a bunch of disaffected men in back rooms talking of injustices. So this voice, my voice, the voice of freedom will go out, at the speed of light and can never be killed. Hopefully some other worldly SETI program will pick it up and realize just how fucked up we humans are. Now for the warning on the package. I feel I am being watched, checked, cataloged and coded. Information is gathered on me daily. All in the name of security. The few of us still remember privacy. Its our own thoughts they cant touch. The air is not free, I believe once something is spoken, it gets carried on the winds and radio waves, the radio ghosts remembers.
When it started there was an exact date and day we remember like a searing brand on our conscious mind. They told us before we went into the camps. Before the torture, the sleep deprivation and the witch hunts for political radicals. The talking heads continued to yell and the conversations became a form of verbal professional wrestling. Staged combat that shocks and amazes but is ultimately failed violence. We wanted our demagogues and once something is codified it is nullified. We were dragged out of our houses in the night. Colors, creeds, and codex in neat straight capitals separated us. When did we choose a dictatorship and when did we cease to care. When the crime is so outrageous and the misdeed so obvious and the nepotism as pure as light. When the brilliant fall prey to the appetites of idiots. And the idiots open mouthed stare hazily and the grand future wrought in theft and self imposed oppression. Registration is the key to location. Thats how theyll find you. Thats when they put you in the camps. THIS CANT BE HAPPENING is less frightening until you come to the last word, again. You wanted my story, my tales of ribald adventures, tonight is good the stars are my campfires and my signal bleeds out into an open sky. We killed the bad guys and now all there is left is fear of another.
I love you guys. You saved me once and its time a repay you. I never gave you anything you didnt have.

FIREFLIES ( Female )

Fireflies at point East. The platform crowded slowly at 9:04 PM.

On a Sunday the Eastbound train passes them the westbound full of drunken Hamptonites.
The fireflies blinking their Morse code to the others.
The blink and flirt and court with mini stars through the sultry Long Island night.
The dim turns to black and I watch their 9 inch micro constellation
I feel like they do.
Its time to mate.
The city beckons me with a not to be denied or resisted pull of sane things without commitments.
A good time is had by all consenting and no soft hearts need apply, your company is best spent elsewhere. The few times I let myself glow.
Not often enough.
Sing Sweetness. In the evenings flow, this sugar makes more that its shard of cavities.
I hope it is a simply beautiful as these fireflies at points east.

SLUGABED SUB-LUMINARY ( Male )

My bed is my stronghold. Its vocabulary of comfort calls to me. I can regale you with the stories of the bed. I love it with joy unrestrained. It is artful in its siryn song. And I am ill disposed to find any fault with it. Save when another man was in it. Now since hes been in it. Its lexicon is incomprehensible. But I have the acumen to not be aimless or angry. I will take safety back. I will have a revolt, a bloody coup. I never sold that part of me.

FROGS ( Male )

One day the princess who kissed the frog felt very sad. She ran away. The first prince treated her quite shabbily. She sat at the edge of the moat crying. A frog sat at the edge of the moat and asked.
Why are you crying?
One kiss to save him, she said, That rotten prince charming. Im sorry he treats you bad. The frog said, staring up at her. But did you know the frogs are the purifiers. The ones who first brought the rain. To cleanse the earth. Id be your prince.
Thats beautiful, she said
And with that, the frog leapt up. And kissed her. And they lived happily ever after. Prince charming never came looking.
The Moral: You dont always kiss the right frog first time around.
Peaceful Dreamers come and play and take sides once in a while. This fence sitting nonsense has got to stop. If youre going to vote pick a party. This self serving diplomacy of cowardice. Its the side. Its all about picking the sides.

OFFENSE ( Female )

Where is the profit in taking offense to a whisper? I capitulate to calm the objectors. I know nothing he says. When I am a gourmand of the existential. My grim repast leaves me starving for something akin to magic. I compose myself for the oncoming. On this blotch of land with no space for too much money. And I smile through the scowl and seek recompense is jazz.

TROPHIES ( Female )

Sometimes you got to love it when you are a prize to be won.
There are things to be said for competition.

A capitalist to the last.
Or.
Or what?
There is always an or.
Or a mere thing, an obstacle to some greater goal.
There is always an or I dont know why that is. Something about being the grail I suppose. Its almost flattering in its vile servitude.
I know now never to let Beth talk me into anything. Shes a sweet girl, a little confused but, sweet, She met this guy Charlie at the bar.
A wolf with the disturbing malady of becoming a man once in a while.
We hit it off.
He left me there, apologetic as always.
We walk the forty or so blocks home.
I didnt care; there isnt a man alive who can touch me. They approach like Perseus in a ruined temple of Aphrodite.
Armed to the teeth, shreds of fear falling of him like a tattered shroud.
I had a garden of statues and the solitude became too much to bear. I wonder if Aphrodite took pity on me. At the time it didnt seem so. She ushered me back to life and gave me Pegasus, the winged stallion, beauty born from my blood. Knights dont come on white horses or chariots of clouds. Pegasus was mine. And that animal for the longest of times was all that mattered. I would fly over the worlds looking for those I could be around; the blind are very good for that. I just wont let them touch my face or my hair will bite them. Some people courted me, over the years, mostly for a notch on their belt. Halloween is the easiest time, anytime I can were a mask. Pegasus changed over the years, He like him go were the only ones of our kind. I let him go or a got lucky, hed be all chipper. Id brush and groom him, sing him songs. Hes transformed become a big white Mustang convertible. I got him in a garage I drive him once a year and see how far I can go. I can never escape until the hero comes, I drive or fly or run from dawn to dawn but when the first rays hit, Im back at the tower. In my statue garden.
This man here, ginning madly, snuck in thought I was a sculptor like him. Wanted to tell me what an admirer of mine he was.

CHEAP ( Female )

Cheap is how I would describe him. Cutting things in half until the atoms split. This can be forgivable. But nothing wrought in cuts ever bodes well. There is the Connequot river, a halcyon scene descibed by an acidic tongue. Never laconic or ostentacious I deride the twilight. And I exalt my mother the moon. With her comes respite and even in total darkness she is there. I cant describe the inherent horrors in what she sees. This is just too much for one poor troglodyte to comprehend or raise objections. The outburst of tears in no substitute for good old fashion violence. It takes a spark to lead to conflargration. Sarcasm is what it is. The quest for contrast and contradition, hyperbole and pathos. The right metaphor to plumb the archaelogical depths of familiarity like strata.

BACKWARDS & FORWARDS ( Female )

Jack was a palindrome, the same way no matter how you looked at him. Backwards and forwards completely lacking in mystery. He was way-worn with a wolfish grin, meticulous to a fault and oh so full of life. But the place Im going to is frought with dangers that are worse when imagined. And I mean to criticize. If I wound you. The gash can be covered in bandiages and the infection will consume with neglect. He is sweet and a little meddlesome. Brazen, glib, immature and stupid. We were just babies when we married. I will remove myself from him and his stinking edicts. But I may suggest one immutable fact that appeals to both reason and heart. I dont want to be alone. Ill be succinct and without exaggerated sorrow. Some folks especially the perky positive ones just need a good killing. There is no room for argument and there is no other way. Im a day from barbarism. There is no other way to remove him from the equation. Itll complete me when hes gone, out, away. There will be no more us, and that is the essence of the action. A cerebral bauble. Itll give me something to play with as dusk eases into night.

U 853 ( Male )

U 853.
Explain. He said.
U 853 - May something 1945 , a day after Donitz called off attacks on civilian shipping. She sank the Blackpoint. Shes submerged a couple of miles off Block Island, she is upright on the bottom, but the hull is in pretty good shape. All hands were lost. Two blast holes. Ive dove her shes a pretty dive. You can look through the hatches and see the remains. But there are nights, above the wreck you swear you hear men screaming in German.
You know once?
I got a bunch of copies from the Eugenics records office at cold spring harbor.
Whats Eugenics you may ask?
The attempt to breed better humans by encouraging people of good genes to marry, screw and have lots of kis , while sterilizing the people of who they considered having bad genes, or what is the word, defective germ plasm. They made these huge charts and pedigrees. Like horses or show dogs. Try to uses so-called scientific facts to justify their deeds. Considerrd it moral. But the negative side were those who believe in sterilization and culling of those least able to preserve human fitness. Leading to segregation of the races and sterilization of the insane, the criminal and the sick. Evolutionary models, Mendels laws and natural selection. All contributed to eugenic theory. Medicine advocated it. Clip them and snip them, Vasectomy and Tubal ligation were the preferred methods of keeping America pure and safe from idiocy.

Well many respected scientist of their day supported Eugenics. Science is a product of culture. Science is as much faith as logic. Eugenics developed in the wake of the Civil War and mass immigration. There was mechanization of industry and the migration to the cities had major health and social consequences. Labor pools were forming unions; there were outbreaks of disease. Economic depressions. And a lot of these problems were thought by the progressivist social engineers at the time to be the product of defective genes brought into the American gene pool from those immigrants: Poverty, alcoholism, feeble mindedness, criminality and prostitution
When I am grown, I thought I will be one with all things. I will be smart and strong and fast, and callous and flawless and cruel and self-righteous. Well at least thats the plan.

History is not for the timid.

HUNGER ( Female )

Nothing is real but hunger, I starve, go without and learned never to prize more than what you can carry. Never eat meat in a war zone. Boil everything and learn to blame. Like when the old Irishman say It was never cold in Ireland until the English came..

There is only hunger that drives the human and his conditions. Hunger is a rule, a law and a truth. She dwells in the very pits of me. The hole that gets greater the more you take away. . It is naked hunger that defines. Thats driving servitude is what will cure me.

Snake Oil X ( Male )

You know excuses really piss me off.
There is nothing more annoying than an ex alcoholic. I dont mean the ones who are being good. I mean the vitriolic, rabid ex alcoholics that treat the program like Its a religion. They found the devil in booze so god wasnt too far behind, waiting there with open arms and group therapy. They painted themselves into such tight moral corners, they had no choice but to look to the heavens. I still drink cause Im no quitter and I dont go to meeting. I also dont drink and drive, drink till I hit my wife or piss myself. Moderation being the key. I dont go to meetings. I dont tell the world this is what I am and that I have a disease. The algorithm is wrong. I dont blame nucleic acids and upbringing. You want to feel this. You want to heal me. Dont bother. I will be blind deaf and dumb to your sermons.

Dude lets face it, you were a hell of a lot more fun when you were drinking. Now you just exist. The whole drunken dimension is gone from you and now all you are is a self righteous pain in the ass. And you know what bugs me most.

Its like those ex smokers whove become tobacco nazis or even worse those whiney ass never smokers who claim they get sick when they smell smoke. They can just relax.

You were the one that hit your ex-wife

Felt fucking great didnt it.

You were the one who smacked up his car.

You were the one who pissed himself. Not the booze. You.

SO do my a favor, you can preach the efficacy of your cure. I never claimed to have willpower. I never claimed to be strong. Ill revel in my weakness. And that makes me way stronger than you. You see I got the cure. The panacea thatll fix you. Not snake oil.

SLIGHTLY MAD (Male)

I dont want to be a cavalier curmudgeon , I think we all went a little crazy when the towers fell. The American human snapped collectively. We all went a little crazy. Force is what I realized only respects force. Im tired of being incommunicado. But I happen to be a cursed with a paladin complex. Here is where I dwell between the voices. Knowing enough and not enough at the same time. Im being stalked by a tiny skulking cat, leonine in bravado. It moves with a grace and panache I admire. I follow him through the maze of courage and carnage. Then I cross a bright shining line. The quiet brought by sleep and pills. There isnt enough of us to form a majority. So I just get grumpy and wait to get shanghaied by the next shiney thought coming at the speed of dark. I seek quietus. I seek rescue in the visage of some woman coming, coming to save me. My whims are mercury affected by the cold and the hot. So I apologize because that is the heart of wordplay.

VOICES ( Female )

A voice is the most powerful aphrodisiac; it leads by the ears with sweet promises of their doom. Once a voice captures a man's soul it is hers forever.
My neck is my weak spot it makes me crumble.
Thats because its so close to all the mens souls I keep in my throat.
I have an entourage of doting men, always at arms length.
These men were so willing just to listen to each syllable pour out of my mouth like the anticipation of the crunched honeycomb. Its truly unnerving how easily men offer me their necks. Its a sign of submission to the wolves. Open and vulnerable haven of the voice. They would just offer it blindly not thinking of the cost. Men have spoken long enough and need to be speechless. Its time for twenty years and not know a single intimate secret. We are different creatures, creatures of intimacy, of verbal communication.
A womans voice is the first voice every man hears before he cries out to the lord Stop this awful brightness. Its the womans soothing voice. The voice is the soul, take a mans voice you take his soul away.
(She draws a straight razor and straddles him. She starts to dry shave him. )
I love shaving a man, lathering up his face and seeing the glint of ear at the straight razor glides up the neck. Do I trust the woman he thinks as I straddle him and just nick the neck. So they bleed just a bit.
Did you ever notice that men are always quite when their control is away? You geld them or a moment each time.
Men talk little about spirit. Its out of their realm. it is the domain of the irrational, hysterical, sensitive ones You see the voice is the soul and each soul you take makes you more powerful. But youre so quite, who would have though this would happen.

Are you saying love me is that an order.

Hes demanding a reason.
We should give it to him, he deserves that much.

SEX & MEDIA ( Female )

I please. The damages are priceless because. My life has been a constant fight to facilitate. And hopefully escape perception. I hope the answer is satisfactory. Before it takes a wicked turn.
My sister was shot, it was on the news. The whole world saw her die. And all I can think of is. Who do I go home with tonight? Screwed up isnt it. Affirm a little life if I can. Regain a little confidence. Life has an imperfect enchantment. Where is my miracle?

INFECTION ( Male )

A disease is killing the city and in this his problem he didnt listen hard enough, stay quite and you might survive.
Listen; take it as a request or a demand. Take it, as you will. You see of all the things I know, Quiet is one of them.
I have touched her, held her as companion and confident. She was always there for me waiting out the turbulence of the clamoring, confident, dubious doldrums. Oh She was there and it always seemed she had a question on her almost feline little mind, a question that desperately needed answering.
Who is there when you are all alone?
Im stalking him, my elusive fox. You see I trapped this one once but he gnawed of his foot to get away.
And youre left holding a bloody stump. Cant his control is gone, dominion devoured like sunlight at dusk.
He has eyes like sugar cane. All ready sold and bought at the gory price of thousand machete swipes.
Hes making little noises of protest. But always its the obscene silence that slaughters the noise. Garroting them, muffling their cries.
There are cracks in your foundation, old cracks, running fucking deep.

ALIAS ( Male )

I dont have any aliases. They are more like misnomers. Its close to twilight and it doubles me. I will be the man working again. The man quietly suffering again. A man not fully in existence. Work is an out of body experience for me. And all the dangers of being without it make me reticent. Id be ostracized, voted out of the city more for arrogance and laziness than for any cause. I take the abuse and the belittlement. It is a key to survival. I take the verbal battery cause I must. I just dont want to go to work today.

LOSSES ( Female )

Loves won and lost I started k at him and he was one of the only men I ever knew I could be a scare me to death

I remember coming home that one day. Everything was gone. Cupboards stripped bare and you were standing in the kitchen. Only a solitary can of tuna left. I tried to ask you why. And as I saw the can on an intercept course with my head all I could do was think about how aerodynamic it was. I got up from the floor hours later. The can unopened had a large dent in it from the collision with my skull. I picked it up and decided to eat. But the bastard took the can opener.

There is a supple innocence to you; an odd mix of abandoned illusions and total xenophobia, what are you scared of id it the waiting that frightens you. Youll say I babble, obfuscate, and ramble. Change subjects and strafe you with questions. A powerful reluctance. Subdued alienations supporting the numbers and the facts.

I want his eyes.
Confessions of a Negativity Junkie.
Negativity is an addiction. One day at a time and all that AA shit notwithstanding.
Allow yourself some good old fashion brooding time.
Oh wait your supposed to find the silver fucking lining.
I have the 20-Minute scenario. Im allowed to feel happy for about 20 minutes before the gods smack me down for my arrogance.
Women werent meant to fly.
Negativity keeps you in the belief system that all actions are futile. Those of us information laden to saturation smart people understand that.
I try hence I lose, I do the right thing followed by the complimentary burning.
Now I do not believe in Sunshine, and kittens, and lollipops and rainbows. Just because Im positive.
I always though the positive ones were simpletons and fools. And if their rosy disposition makes them ignore certain facts,
Like locking the front door. Its self -destructive.
So what you are saying is, Im a psychological charcoal briquette, Im in cinders. Worry is Negativitys tequila, its doubt heroin, and its cocaine pride. Its bourbon vindictiveness. Think positive - yeah right.

JUJU ( Male )

I am self taught in the arts of enervation. Its banal I know, but I take vast amounts of energy from others it is impossible to avoid. One must either give or take. Tears notwithstanding. Company breeds parasites. Its a rather ordinary necessity.

I know youre thinking A symbiotic relationship, I thought we had something special. I dont really understand the attraction myself but I should remain tacit. Keep its secret. But no, somethings deserve admittance. Im wicked and horrid and beastly. I know this. But it completes me and where is the harm in that? I give it a pedestal and it take very little effort. It is my skill. I never see where it comes from and its just as likely to evaporate. I never know when its going to happen. It comes in fits.

STEMS ( Female )

It seems at times we duel with suspicion and insecurity. Sometimes we are a pair of saboteurs to scared to realize that no amount of damage can
Subvert what was meant to be. All million miles a second race just as you open your eyes and smile.
The Magic Stoop I hum Stairway to heaven, The steps where we sat and talked and with passionate let ourselves fall. Words in the cement Hold testament For the place I love to enter and hate to leave without at least once looking back. Todd was sitting at the bar. Smile coy and subdued.
We talked, well he talked and the conversation split three ways between me, him and his reflection behind the bar.
Oh no, please continue, No really, No I heard she was like that.
Someone please put a bullet in my brain.
On me, Im not important.
Lets talk about you.
Two men check me out, one howls. Oh yes, lets go to bed right now you romantic schemer you.
I caught their gazes, blow them a kiss and turn them to stone.

Damn those reflexes. If the weather was as predictable as men no hurricane would last longer than a minute. It would be all force and bluster in one place for a while, then invisibly dissipate. If men were as right as rain, the world would be a parched waste.

Oh Shes still talking, 5-4-3-2-1-
You know I sensed that about you.
Three magic words a perfect incantation.
Im a romantic,
Thats him officer,
Has your eyes,
Its not mine,
You are an expert in desire,
Arent you?
Let me tell you something about the desire you create. Once there was a restless man, the man was a stonecutter. He cut the stone for the Parthenon. He desperately wanted a change, he was dissatisfied. He begged the Gods for a change. Hermes appeared. He gave the stonecutter six wishes, to be whomever or whatever he wanted. But the last wish was final. One day, the stonecutter saw a wealthy merchant, in a great house, with great food and slaves. He wished he was him, suddenly he was, he loved it, until people and business made demands on him. This tired him. Then he saw a great scholar with students doting on him, He wished he was the scholar and suddenly hew was. But the students questions weighted on him and the robes were heavy and hot. He looked up at the sun and wished he could be it. And he was. But he loved giving light, but heard the curses of the farmers in drought. So he became the rain and he heard the curses of the farmers I flood. Then he wanted no material so he became the wind. But was cursed when ships blew off course. Then finally he came upon the perfect form. He became a mountain, he become stone. Impenetrable, safe from sun, wind and rain, merchants or scholar could do nothing to him. That is until he felt a nick on his side. It was a stonecutter.

TRISKADEKAPHOBIA ( Female )

What do you desire? You look healthy Ill give you solace beyond substitute. This is no time to be stoic. Remove the burdens or are you adamant in your resistance/ With a few words I offer you so much joy. Its harmless and without cruelty. Ill instruct you in any language you want. Ill give you more than you can ever want or do you just want the company. Both are free for the asking.

Dont brood, dont be so down. Youre a big boy now, fearless. Yes go higher, explore, reach, go without judgement. Youll get stuck once in a while but there should be no time for regret or jealousy.

FIRST MOMENT ( Male )

First moment
A few minutes late.
Ill meet her down stair.

The elevator opens, she exits.
MY GOD SHE IS BEAUTIFUL
We go into the elevator; kindness is a color on her.
To Starbucks, we talk, I make her and several others laugh.
And I think I can get real used to this. I really can.

Why is she talking to me, cant she see what Im feeling.

Painted on him like a billboard.
Please dont ever stop talking to me. Wishes are answered few and far. Occasionally you get lucky. She smiles I melts and leave giddily..A kiss
Was
The last
Thing
I
Expected
From me or her,
Youll promise.
Ill go slow,
Never break a promise and always deliver what is asked of me.
I keep you close to my chest
Smell your hair
And exist between your smiles
Slowly I turn each page with joyous anticipation.
I am watching you sleep, hearing your heart beat.
Dream
Of couches, sunsets, riverbanks and swingsets
Dream of one of many marvelous Sundays.
Dance in laughter; dance in tears and sometimes my sweetness just dance.
ANTEDULUVIAN ( Male ) 15

It may seem aberrant but I was never fully at peace wit the spirit of the time. The zeitgeist as they call it. I like most take extreme pleasure in the misery asnd downfall of others. Schadenfreude to use another 20 dollar word. I listlessly count my pennies and I genially quake at my own coming consumation. I eat out of fear and I consume out of reflex with never a thought to the waste. I waste hours under the heels of those who respect no one. This is no way for a man to live. There is a lush lack of civility, courtesy, chivalry. To many these archaic forms must seem like Chaucer if theyve read him. Its a prolonged melee in which I am unarmed. There is no fixing it, no making better that is idle talk. I understand the need to improve and to make things better. But knowing that you cant is worse. I was raised not to be a novice to the revolution, I was raised to be first to the wall and shot. Ill bestow to you now my dull wisdom. A knife can be surprisingly quiet.

HEART ( Female )

Today my heart returned to me. I forgot the past hurts and neglects and rejections. and he poured back into me with all the blessed power of first love. Now all I can do is hope to earn her trust.
Understand a universal law; treat whore like Queens and queens like whores.

Which am I?

Both my dearest.

A whore of queens.

A Queen of whores.

You are going to let her get you killed. So you hit her so what now this is the law of the jungle my friends You see huh, I smiled at her She smiled back. It was only me. People are always ambushed about me cause I'm always smiles, thinking I'm up in there We all go back, play the music we wanted. Swinging out of rhythm. Yeah old hoss. Times like that were few and far. We'd smoke and we laugh and we'd talk about the colors we saw when we played. Like the caterpillar, big game to us. You stupid getting all killed, walking the roads at night high What are you thinking. Crispy man, one brain cell overworked wanted a day off. I miss the girl too, She'd get all glassy eyed when I played. Playing through the whole night hoping that no one would shatter the looking glass and she had to put her fist right through it.
Remember back in the day, The two of us wrestling, you brought me through that window. Crash. Dumb bastard, now who do I get whacked with, consider that
(Puts the harmonica away and grabs a shovel, grabs a beer, he starts to dig.)
I dig graves and I love dirt, soil. Nothing like fresh peat Roots like little veins plugging into the ground. I like digging holes, I attempted to dig to china once Got about a good six feet, tuckered myself out, and you, asshole. Pushed the dirt back in on me. Just to scare me. I like to grow things you got to see the beautiful plants I got in the back Make you weep, it's so good Hey it's a federal cemetery, who's going to know?
These men gave up their lives so I could grow weed. Aint freedom great bros. After a few weeks of beers, lovers and other pointless dichotomies. Cynicism is the only force
great enough to overpower my sloth I think alot about wasted time and the tremendous effort it takes to kill it Why do I fight all the time? Everyday longing for the constant whipcord tension of the fray. A blur of violent blackest thought impulses .Bear teeth,
Snarling eyes of the crowd, the forward facing children of predation. Who cares? All kills go to me. I just wish they were all strangers. And so what if she robbed me blind.

RUSE ( Female )

Im into gambling and porn and that does not make me a degenerate. Well it makes me a bit of a degenerate but still. Im waiting to be indicted.

DRAGON ( Male )

Jason you idiot, don't sell Jason listen to me Listen, Listen, Jason, you are not evil enough for this Yes evil Jason. Suck the eyes out of your head, stick cellophane toothpicks thorough them and serve them as appetizer evil. Give him some time Jay..He'll budge. We sell coins Jason, gold coins, stuff people kill
Pharaohs for You see that's your problem There are two types of problems your problems and my problems and I don't care about your problems You don't think you will ever have alot of money, you know what I do, Jay let me get a word in. Ten percent of every buck you get in the bank, boom, don't touch it. Money attracts money. Cosmic law. I was making 6 figures at twenty Jay-boy, you know why. I can sell scales to a snake, don't fuck with me Jason I'll tear you to shreds, snap your back in my jaws. What you want to challenge me. Get ready to lose. Rat gnawing at your guts. Jason you already lost. Accept it, shes gone, dead, obliterated. Accept it and go on, but you can't you know why BECAUSE SHES FUCKING DEAD, YOURE DEAD TOO!!! Oh your so tough, I'm eating you alive, Next I'll eat your sow of a recollection, your tiny soul and rape your woman. I'm evil, Jay, you must see that. Alright, Alright, ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! Sellout . Pleasure doing business with you. You on the other hand Jay doesnt have a clue The way I found her. Tired confused alone. A whore. Hell you saved her. Even made an artist of her and the bitch left you.

SAY YES ( Male )

SAY SOMETHING WORTH HEARING!!!!!
Pain is good because it at least at the moment of impact informs you how alive you are feel nothing.
Perforated, licking wounds that I was just starting to heal. All my cuts kissing them soothing the hurts. There isnt any salve or ointment for them, no anesthesia. How did I find them. Where do I find them, the ones who cut me and made my apologize. Maybe Ive been licking my wounds so long I like the taste.
I can watch and wait and wonder, let spy satellites pick me up by the light of a cigarette in orbit. I never expected to live this long I courted oblivion in her heyday. I almost died once; high out of my mind I was dancing on an overpass over Great South Bay on the way to Smith Point Park. So I dove in., kept swimming down and down. I felt my lungs start to buckle, then I hit bottom and shot myself back up you ever see the sun through the water below. I was starting to lose consciousness and I broke the surface
Look the colors of the sunrise like the sun is making love to the sky, how can you not want to see that tomorrow.
What answer did you give them?

KILLING TIME ( Male )

Killing time in disrespect, rabbits out of the hat time. With the absence of fact. Confusion takes over.

GRASS ( Female )

I am you and all you memories, It's quiet, summer evening, wind through the trees in a druid song, fairies peeking out behind saplings. Strawberries, clovers, at least this day I can dance on my tiptoes. This one boy I knew had strawberry blonde hair. A sweet whispery voice, not even close to affectation if he knew what that meant. He had a voice a few octaves lower than most male voices and he would hide his face behind these huge hands of his. Ducking cutely behind an intense shyness I broke him of that. With me, he learned to relax, with me he was free. At least for a little while. He was one of those perfect people, the ones you think God placed here to remind you how good life can be. Only God has the secret for making such a person the ones that tug at the soul. Enriching us. I used to love taking him for walks in the rain. I taught him to love the cascading water. Stuff my father told me growing up was the tears of God. And after a while I began to learn when and why God cries it was this hill where I saw it, the face of God. I was straight stone sober. Lying down here, staring up, me and you enjoying each other. The grass was wet; it rained earlier that day and it threatened to rain again. We waited like Ben Franklin sans kite and key. Lightning is the weapon of the Gods. It is power they hold its mysteries close to their divine chests. There are days I wish I had that as well One drop fell like a kiss on my cheek and then it started to pour. I stayed getting soaked to the bone, I didn't care. It took a while for the light show Flash, thunder, thunder, flash, that was close, BOOM lightning flies up from the ground like an angry soul. I kissed him, he smiled, I wanted him then and there, he obliged then there was this amazing series of bolts. The moon silhouetted the clouds and lightning cracked open the sky like a pane of glass hit by a small rock. And in that second I saw it, peeking through the shards Staring, air full of burnt ozone The strikes started getting closer and out of hand It saw me. It didn't want me to tell anyone. We ran serpentine through the fields but and electric snake bit Alex. He was cinders and flesh and frozen all at once, the lightning froze the raindrops in air. Stopping time. you when time caught up was third degree burns and ash God keeps his secrets. It's nothing like that. Enjoy these moments Enjoy each one. Cause soon Ill have you.

MESS ( Female )

The mess has begun, the chaotic mass of dysfunction that passes for my life. Has caught up with me once again. And it doesnt have the courtesy to fix itself. It just lies there, unmotivated. Well my mother taught me never to reward sloth. Ill just let it lie. Even though my compulsion is to fix it. I hope eventually it will be motivated enough to make a better life for itself. You cold, how did your hands get so cold.?

You just had to leave the window open. A little nippy don't you think, A sure-fire sign if you see your breath hey it's below freezing there. No need to check the satellite map. Everyone knew it was cold, accept you.

I just think shes got a broke thermostat

This woman with a beard like Walt Whitman spoke to me in Czech accent. Turned me on to some deep-seated gypsy fetish I must have. She knew it was cold. There was a Japanese woman with a nervous tick rubbing, thumb and forefinger. She knew it was cold. There was a pigeon of a man that tried to tell me all the stops on the 9. And asked if I ever heard of the 8 train. I knew it was a trick question. And even that insane little bugger knew it was cold. Why would anyone love the cold? At least soon I'll be all white and have excellent camouflage. Something I picked up in the army. I learned how to be a stump but the technique didn't serve me well in the desert. I'd kill to be in the desert again at least it was HOT!

I used to have a silver fox fur coat, don't give me that look. All the animals are dead, it would be really cruel if I strapped them to my body live wouldn't it. Don't underestimate the power of maliciousness. I only wear dead animals on my feet. But I only eat old women and small children. Did I get this sarcasm thing right?
Yes dear that is sarcasm HEAT!
You don't know cold.
I don't know cold, sorry Love, but you do.
Turn up the heat. Heat, warmth, you know that human need for survival since time immemorial. Look I'm turning cobalt. HEAT! I don't care set the cat on fire I covet warmth. I had this ex she was from Minnesota, where you get three blizzards a day. Stop laughing Oh I hate winter, hate everything that reminds me of winter. Even hate Christmas it reminds me of the damn coll. You are like a winter Nazi. You are like one of those people who think everyone should love this stuff. Every year as a kid, my parents would drag me, kicking and screaming to Vermont, in December. Toward the cold, for vacation. They were insane Yeah she was my grandmother but still. She couldn't take a plane.

Snowball fights, ice skating, sledding. My grandma, she's blurry in my memory now, like looking through a coke bottle or a funhouse mirror. She loved it too. My sister and I used to skate all the time. that is until I fell through the ice. I saw her standing above me as I floated under her. I banged on the ice. It wouldn't give. Life goings, numb, almost instantly, senses fading, cold shock mind too numb. I never woke up. Heart stopped. Screeched to a halt. It took then twenty minutes to find me. Hypothermia, they call it. I'm a wraith now. I died, I just walk around now, fearing the chill and wet stars falling from the slate gray sky. why would anyone love the cold.

TAKING THE BULLET ( Female )

Im willing to go down and take the bullet for you. But you kind of owe me an explanation. Im anxious, understandably, thinking and worrying about the targeted assassination.
He called it quits and I knew about the affair, I had faith in him long ago.

GYPSY MOTHS ( Female )

Come my little moth.
No why would I, I'm absolutely clueless. And from what strange alternate reality did you walk out of. I'm not even symmetrical where do I diverge each morning, why don't all the neutrinos spin when they're not being observed big atoms, solar systems, galaxies, and the spiral, something in the center and the cloud around it.
Don't you know that over the constant chatter, is an indistinguishable chorus of injustices?
Don't you know there is a poetry to pain.?
And without the suffering there would be no ecstasy.
Joy is found. Joy is common, common as solace. And with these things you can exorcise, the demons of humiliation, heartache and searing memory.
Fire is a great example of the randomly cruel universe. Fire requires three things for continued survival, like us: heat, fuel and oxygen.
I've seen places burn, flashover, all things once t hey reach a certain heat, they combust at the same time. Like it was bathing in high-octane gas yearning for a match.
Forest you know, burn crazy when you fight the fires all the time in them. The dead things collect, dead trees become ideal kindling Hell they get so big they create their own weather. More wind, more fire, more fire, more wind.
Ad infinitum.
Fire is an alive malevolent thing. Smoke billows, turning houses to embers Floating weightless carbon away in the perpetual wind.
The Booker house was up, we all ran to see it I ran out to her. Licked by color, red, yellow, white, orange, blue, gold the skin sloughing off her ridiculously small body in ashen sheets. I looked away, the air reeked with burned hair. The fire had her; She fell with a quiet barely audible thud a few paces from me. Her lungs, tongue, throat, scorched She couldn't say anything if I wanted too. She was cannibalized by it. I watched her die and did nothing.
Now tell me why the moths fly into the fire. Why would anything do that to itself? Why does the moth die in flames?
Because it loves them.

PHOBIA ( Female )

Fear is fast growing cells replicating like a cancer yet waiting in lines. I hated the expectations, shut off the lights and said good-bye. Its crunch time, bullied into exile. Once Im clear and things happen but until then this disenchanted chick is digging in.

SATURDAY ( Male )

It was Saturday; I stood in vigilance guarding an abandoned ice cream factory. I had no reading light, radio, or contact with the outside world. Stuck there, but what can you do? The old plant is shipping brick, next to a railroad overgrown with weeds. The tracks extend another two miles or so. In the front of the building, unkempt shrubs bust out next to huge dying birch struggles against gravity. The back of the building spills like entrails of pipe, brick, steel and glass.
I watched the sunset; slowly behind the clouds leaving a halo of saffron and peach. Ive seen many sunsets especially in autumn where the leaves color blend and touch the sky. With a soon to be purple and red sunset that looked like a bruise on the face of God.
It appeals to me in the sense that all tragedy appeals to me. Its raw truth. Its about sorrow, suspicion and revenge. Soon the sky was ablaze like the burning of Elysium. Shafts of light pierced the clouds, which my grandfather once told me were souls going to heaven. My grandfather knew how to tell a fable. I stared into the sun as the clouds turn to plumes of crimson smoke. I closed me eyes and adjusted my vision to the inevitable mission at hand.
I am not beautiful person, In me is all the ugliness of generations. There is no nobility. As both remember you and me would restlessly wait for June. There was a pond, in the swamps near out homes, in the industrial park that would become full of frogs. Also the illegal fireworks would start pouring in for the fourth of July fugitives. In the summer we would all camp in the woods.
Jumping jacks, bottle rockets. And firecrackers were the weapons of choice in our war with the frogs. To us they were lesser creatures and we would revel in the massacres.
With a Swiss army knife you would examine them, still living while you pinned them to a board with corkscrew. You would cut the webbing out between their toes and saw off their limbs. You just followed and laughed. We had power. Pathetic wearing your scars likes indignant medals.
A nihilist with the charm of a sociopath. Miss Negative awaits. She wraps you in the identification with failure. Failure becomes self fulfilling and blame becomes righteousness. The Chrysalis is a blanket of gruesome self-loathing to succeed to believe love is suicide to you. Experience teaches in condescension. Memory is an addiction. Where we catalog out perceived wrongs.

Daughter of Sleep
She said Sweet dreams and they were.
Of dreams she is one of them, l know it this daughter of sleep. Poetry in form, music in motion Inter woven, Magnificent tapestries.
Seen only at a distance
Now up close.
Closer than I ever thought possible.
She is the fabric of dreams I have created worlds for her.
Sculpted the Gods and tamed the very forces of creation to do her justice. I only hope they can.
Moments, moments, fleeting
A joy each second. Like fresh grapes from a vineyard.
Overripe and bout to burst with sweetness.
The vine holds many alluring secrets.
Honey I dont do anything thats healthy for me. Thats a frightening bit of arrogance even for you the paranoid poet. Everything in Moderation including moderation abstinence never did anyone any good.

STAND ( Male )

I thought she was a one-night stand that lasted a year and went horribly wrong. Both drunk we seduced each other and went back to her place in the east 80s. She scared the hell out of me. She cried alot, she did everything alot. She kept demanding information on me. I gave as much I could. We lived together or a long while. We moved in way too fast. She had a rage I mistook for passion.

History is a lush verdant jungle of long gunmen.
I want a revolution, take up arms, The rich own justice, Take responsibility, and peasants take up your guns and place the barrels to the vacant skulls of the moneyed.

I am a fool, I work, I suffer, and I function with honor, dignity and pride. Im a fool who smiles and throws unnoticed barbs at the blissfully blind. I have no pity for you.
I grew up with guns and now they are a passion, Tell me which is better biting the peach or the seconds before you bite.
I blame on reflex, l bleed cynicism and eat images like nothing phases me. But I take responsibility for who and what I am. My parents brought me here but I choose to stay. Stick Around, I come around just to brutalize. Victimization is your great ITS NOT MY FAULT! You would be surprised how many women carry guns, I mean whats a misdemeanor compared to a rape.

A man trying to score once told me lying through his teeth that a woman is pure love.
This along with other lies, Anger is unbecoming, thinking ruins the face. So does, pain, misery, regret horror, disgust and vile servitude? They gave you lines too.
The answer is man.
A line is a line; its whether you bite that matters.
Belief thats the hard part.
Its threat, intimidation and the constant nagging feeling that comes from knowing anyone lied to long and consistently enough will believe anything.
So you choose your insinuations with care cause all great lies are simple, so as to not be easily forgotten and consistent so as to hold together under scrutiny. The propaganda chosen for effect. This allows the cynic to think positive but not be a total fucking sap. Logic of Pacasl's wager and Okam's razor, why not believe god is there and when stripped away the simplest answer is usually the correct .We are the troubles on the gods and the universes dysfunction. Like all wisdoms its simple. What one needs belonging?

No, thats a pain in the ass no. No is the beginning of everything bad in my life. They say it, and then I say the rest is violation and vendetta.

THE TREE ( Female)
Tree of Life echoes of that hill far away. Where we would lie to each other in the grass. I am what you want just believe that for a while. Then I'll be on my way.
Generations of leave, so it is of men. Autumn is telling in colors and crunches. Decay is embraces in vivid spectacle.
Deep inside that's the hole and the hook. Shallow and deep the cut that bleeding a torrent of incidental torments. My child fears a silent place where I am.
Unnecessarily complicated isn't it. A minor inconvenience translates into tragedy in the arms of autumn.
Death is only beautiful when she calls to you. A release like sex into unthinking oblivion. God love me, I am too much apart of her. I'll give it to anyone will to step up and say this one is mine.
Love is the purest of outrages. Truth demands to be seen. That is the nature of the scene gabbing attention needing truth. It knows that deception is a skill, prowess, and playing to greedy workless fantasies conceals my objective. Plays the game. Gives them rituals, enemies, sacrifices and high vague promises.
Love is the purest of outrages and the truth demands to be seen, and alas nothing is real but hunger.

LAST CALL FOR ALCOHOL !!!!

MUSIC ONCE UPON ( Male )
I'm not nice, never was, never claimed to be. Neither are my appetites and I believe it's time for a bash. Not just an ordinary party but one I can back tyo the empty world with. Harmony like color without forecasts and projections. What is trhe price of falling apart when that's the only choice you got.

BREAKDOWNS ( Female )

Am I capable. Guarding serenity, it is a good life. Anyway you want it. I love each and every one of you. But my love is nomad, won't stay anywhere too long for risk of the locals hunting me down. I'll give you a quick introduction to my heart and you will do me the courtesy of sticking to the lie. I'll concoct wild conspiracies later.
JOY ( Female )
Joy, I am crying to be with you.
Christ it's been just too damn long. Come here lover and talk to me. Be there for me like you used to. That's it. Slip…
I need you baby, I want the wordless joy. It's fleeting, but why worry. Paying interest on future debt. Interest paid in time and attention.
You want me to beg don't you? Plead, pray, prostrate, and protest. You want genuflection and proof of your power. You always had it all you had to do was ask.
But no that would be too simple. Too direct. It's so easy to appease the need and keep the sacred ache. Who are you when I need you? Where is the love in Dopamine? Where is the chemical bliss? Where is the joy, the prolonged insinuated joy? Joy this fleeting momentary taste to the starving. Where are you my darling I need you.
IDLES, IDYLLS ( Male )
There are times at night, just before the dawn. The loneliness seeps in like water or is it blood. The madness of all the weights and burdens dog pile on the fragile sleep deprived mind. Insomnia is the curse and I try to kill this spectre. It just stared back at me grinning madly. What I need before the dawn is not the light but more of the shadow. The truth that harsh little bitch knows I'm fragile. It's a trap in a maze of skeleton keys and combination locks. I dread the dawn with it's eminent deconstruction of my well thought out hallucinations. My dreams having the substance of an untried door. It's quite susceptible to the brilliance. Which make me a fool afraid of phantoms. A part of me died, a place close to my eyes. I see her when the lights are dim. I feel her breath like and unwanted caress. I touch it back because it has been so damn long. And I hope and pray and beseech the night to stay, call me lover and keep the blindness close. Hating the expectations, I'll shut the lights and say good bye. Or maybe.

Then say goodbye.

ronin poetry

Monday, February 15, 2010

valentine's requiem

Monday, February 8, 2010

old stuff

Saturday, February 6, 2010

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