Poetry

Poetry

  • The World Wave – Jim Smith
  •  dreams turn into now – Deja Cross
  • behind the Talking Stick – Roger Houston
  • Just Asking – Mary Getlein
  • Simple Truth – Majid Naficy
  • Homage to Coleen Creedon – Suzanne Verdal

 

————————————–
 
The World Wave

 

By Jim Smith

 

There’s a Tsunami comin’
to shake up the whole wide world.
You can’t escape this big old wave
hittin’ every city where there’s a slave.
Gonna feel this human tidal wave.

 

Listen, rich man
Your pockets got half of everything
If you billionaires won’t share the wealth, 
and the things we need
Someone’s gonna bleed.

 

You made us the wretched of the earth
’cause you won’t give us dignity and jobs
So we’ll do a little night work.
And if we don’t get a pay raise
we’ll get extra cash another way.

 

Rich man, you got your armies
goin’ around the world
terrorizin’ folk. That’s gonna end.
Hey, we got our army, too.
25 million jobless comin’ unglued.

 

So call out your army and The Fear
Tear gas and water cannons by the ton
Lots of us want justice even more than livin’
Dyin’ might be our pride and our fate
But all you got is your hate.

 

You can knock us down once, twice
maybe more, but we’ll keep comin’
got no where to go so we’ll play your game
’til your soldiers join us in our fun
whatcha gonna do when they cut and run?

 

You seen it comin’ rich man
Hard-workin’ folk fed up in North Africa,
the Middle East, Greece, Spain,
and hairy old England
The World Wave keep on rollin’.

 

We’re gonna make a better world
Annihilate hunger, vaporize your greed.
Egypt didn’t need your pet dictator
like them we’re gonna put you in our past
We’d like to take it slow, but it could be fast.

 

We know those talkin’ heads will lie, lie, lie
your punk politicians will try to make us die.
Tsunami comin’ this way can’t be stopped
Rich man, where you gonna hide?
where you gonna hide?

   

dreams turn into now

 

did my dreams turn into NOW? 
is There now Here, without the “T”, the cross, 
 within the extraordinary, the jack spinning through eternity? 
looking into the eyes of the universe, the mystery, 
this Scorpio on the summer horizon, journeys OM
– Deja Cross

 

————

14:21 Monday, August 29, 2011, behind the Talking Stick….. A sidewalk dandelion raised his head, And beamed his saffron skyward, but instead Of cursing his apparent low estate Began to tower upward. Was it fate For him to thus aspire, to arise, To aim toward the lofty azure skies? Or Nature? Was it just obedience To her silent commands? Was it pretense, To follow suit with others? Did he seize The day through gaining altitude, to please Some facet of his ego? To await Some purpose to be given? Potentate Of weeds, this sidewalk dandelion strayed Into some mindless boot heel, and lay dead….. Roger Houston    
 
————-
Just Asking

 

You are a pagan child
born of woman but not of man
sanctified without a church
born in the light of the moon
we ran, we fought, we struggled
every new group came in here and tried to take our land
but we’re still here, underground angels
we don’t look like angels but we are
we’re watching the sky for the coming of the Lord – 
He’s late, Man

 

We keep on watching
we’re guarding the portals, Lovecraft’s portals
where huge slimy creatures rise up from the sea
to devour us –
we are just feeder fish waiting to be eaten
waiting for the alien spacecraft to come back
and show us more miracles
our technology is meant to enslave us
and so far it’s been doing a real good job

 

Cast off those tubes reaching into your brain, 
listen to the sound of a real live bird
not a magnified image on the wall
you’re all tubed up, Man, 
just like when you’re almost dead, 
but the cruel doctors keep you alive with their technology

 

It’s not a mercy killing we’re looking for – 
it’s a mercy living
have mercy – 
get off the consumer assembly line
and step into reality
not virtual reality – 
we’re getting dumber and dumber and dumber – 
just what you would expect “feeder fish” to be
then they can pluck you up with their net
dress you up and send you to the next war – 

 

The beginning of the end has already begun!
The last drops of oil will be fought over
again and again, 
until there is no more – 
we will destroy this environment until it is all gone
and then we will mourn our selfishness

 

We won’t leave anything for future generations – 
except more technology, cold empty technology
Turn your back on the endless programming to fill
your tiny brain – 
go back to the beach and let the sand sift through
your fingers – 
go play, dance, get burned in the sun and 
cool yourself in the ocean’s waves
Take all your machines and toss them in the landfill:
that’s where they are headed anyway

 

Wars have always been fought – 
for what?
Spoils of history, gold, religion, rape, pillage, politics – 
“a good time”
When men and women can run around acting like demons, 
torching peoples’ houses – 
from the air, turning entire cities into flames, 
killing millions of innocent civilians
over and over and over – 
until death do us part?

 

When you spend most of your life hooked up to a 
machine – how does it feel, when it’s over?
Just asking – 
What exactly was accomplished?
What was the purpose of that life?
Just asking – 
When you take 19 year olds and throw them into battle
and they die, over and over again – 
What exactly was accomplished?
Just asking – 
Go to the obit section of any paper and you’ll see:
The deaths of young people far outnumber the deaths of the old – 
does this make sense to anyone?
“Oh, say, can you see?”
Because I can’t.

 

-Mary Getlein

————

 Simple Truth

 

By Majid Naficy

 

As you see the flower
You say “wow” and sit
Near the terracotta pot
And stare at new petals
Like a humming bird.
I tilt the pitcher
And as the water
Washes the dusty leaves
I surrender to this simple truth
That you see beauty everywhere
And become mesmerized in the moment.

 

I am ashamed of myself.
Everyday I put on
The Same old jacket
And carry the watering can
To the patio.
I open the door
Like a sleepy prison guard,
 And pour the water like piddle
Not ever noticing
A single budding rose.
———–
Homage to Coleen Creedon
 
By Suzanne Verdal
 
Because we met at Ozone-park i sat in your Lazy Boy chair.
Because of You, i found another devotee of cats.
Because of You, i found another PEACE-NIK.
Because of You, i’ve a new respect for spiders.
Because of You, i get a hot shower in private.
Because of You, i saw your bird sanctuary and
viewed cats and squirrels in harmony.
Because of You, i’m reminded of the value of vegetarianism.
Because of You, i know i shouldn’t gorge on potato chips.
Because of You, i found a family member, and enjoy
morning coffee even more…
Because of You i’m newly inspired.
Because of You, i found a safe haven,

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