REPEAT WHEN NECESSARY
I’ve seen no war; I’ve seen no fear.
Nor have I made love to one woman.
I’ve never seen a woman give birth
Except when my mother gave me life.
I’ve never seen a man take a life
Until they buried my father
Today I switched on the television.
Life passed me by between commercial breaks
Today I saw a man at war, it was me
A woman giving birth, he was my son.
Today I saw my son through a pair of bifocals.
Today I saw fear. I saw war.
HISTORY: PART ONE
Ah youth,
my beautiful brothers and sisters,
with your shining brown faces;
bright burnt hair scented by sweet oils;
charcoal eyes: spiraling orbs in the sky.
I’ve been blind to your beauty for so long.
my kin: repulsed by the evil of my skin
language cut off at my mother tongue.
To hate, to love, to love to hate.
You are my blood , my posterity;
history runs through your veins.
Created from a clot and raised by the pen
knowledge: the spiritual journey cannot be taken away.
stand strong
HISTORY: PART TWO
Disillusioned by pop culture: Time, Wired, Chatelaine.
The Western mission: a systemic burying of history.
Our Native, Aboriginal, Indian lands.
Anyway you slice it comes out white bred.
Repressed by promises of equity, multiculti, mumbo-jumbo
in a swirling chaotic ball of political fire.
Common global cultural or ethnic cleansing: a paradox ?
Vote for me and I’ll set you free.
Can’t see the forest for the trees.
Hiding between the soft and the hardware,
identity: race, religion and gender get lost
under a cloud of cyberspace acrobatics
And so history repeats self: not again.
HISTORY: PART THREE
Caught between the“Baby Boom” and “Gen X “ doom.
Living in a disposable world of instant coffee and cup-o-soup.
What is this my thirteen recessiom-slash-depressiom?
Acid Rock or Acid Jazz . Disco doesn’t suck so bad
Don’t believe in John Lennon or Leninism.
Getting high on right, left wing rhetoric - toxic waste kills.
Screaming for the sake of shouting agendas change by the minute
Paradise: anal penetration: a swift stab with a knife. Et tu Brute!
Don’t believe in love or have any romantic notions
Deceit of the heart kills the human sprit
Casual copulation is my cup of tonic: snuffing the cup of Love
I don’t choose the disease but I live with the shame
IMPRESSIONS PICASSO ET FEMME
Breasts like eyeballs to the floor.
Noses like knives cutting the face in half.
Eyes like spiders weaving in and out.
Head parallel to the shoulders.
Shoulders like a broken scale tipping to one side.
Torso cut in half perpendicular to itself - twice folded.
Hands like snakes jumping out of shoulders.
Feet like giant hands shooting through the torso.
Vagina made of a single stroke of paint.
Picasso, man you are so cool: You’re square.
Cosmos
He walked a crooked line.
His eyes blurred by a pool of lights.
Sipping watered-down mucus,
He thought to himself:
Who am I?
Where am I going?
He remembered, ‘PASSION’
As he slashed through the path,
he felt a tingling in his throat.
It was the mucus again.
He spit carefully, not to swallow
and not against the wind.
He smelt the gutters rising
through the air.
He thought again.
He remembered.
He swallowed.
He digested.
He remarked,
quite rhetorically
to no one in particular.
Another lovely day,
wouldn’t you say?
and now a song
time is bleeding my friends.
I am tired and must leave.
I thank you: for the fine red wine,
decanted it breaths life;
the good conversation, each word a thorny rose
flung at the heart; pricking its soft petals;
food in all its glorious color, taste and smell:
each morsel a remembrance in time and place;
for love, that elusive emotion,
I found in your strong and gentle arms.
Yes, it is early this fine night
but everyone has their appointed time
And the clock has chimed for me.
No, I don’t kiss everyone whom I meet
But, tonight, for you I make an exception,
a solitary kiss from these poisoned lips
from which sweet and bitter words
have bit and stung; loved and lived.
tonight truth flies; blinding gentle butterflies.
Goodnight and goodnight
what sleep?
I dreamed of fat babies
The sultans of sleep.
They stole my kisses.
The next night
I heard flying saucers
Calling out to me.
The night after the next
I called out to God.
He rode in - a fat baby on a flying saucer.
Now I fluctuate between science & spirituality.
