Well, get it out --
that was your invitation
and then as I prepared
to breach the dam
to release that pressure
in the gentlest way
at hand
you balked
just the tip of the iceberg
too heavy, you reacted
then you slammed me
with beast-jive
in "defense", I suppose,
So much for your invite
what did you think was
meant
in calling myself
"savage"
"that even large heart
would not fully understand,"
Get it out -- yah sure
you request
my sweeter side
you ask of the volcano
to spew forth
a volley of flower
petals
the last time I did that
they were used for
sopping up an oil spill
my poetry became toilet
paper
my paintings, target for practice
my song as noise to excuse
your need to scream
and when I screamed
you cried rape
and when I shuddered
you cried violence
when I wept
you laughed.
Getting it out --
what "it" are you
talking about
the symptom external
which shakes your
illusions
or that inside my gut
which chokes me
retches me in constant
tremble and chill
which to you is an inconvenience;
Life is an inconvenience
a funny thing happened
on the way to nirvana
if this is a joke
then do not wonder
that I am angry
but then it's your turn
My turn!
I don't want a turn
I don't want to play
this game is become
so sick that
I don't want to support
even the vague potential
that it could ever happen again
good taste, bad taste
this is below the bounds
of all taste
and insult to
consciousness.
Get it out --
I'm told this is the
world
I've projected - my
fault
I used to buy that one
sitting recluse on my
mountain
but the proof is in the valley
come down, get your
feet wet
The mountain is like
a euphoria drug
meditation addicts
holier than thou
and those who walk the valley
carrying the mountain
on their backs
are testament to
the joke which should not be.
Get it out --
divine-madness, you
plead
holy/unholy
there is no difference
madness produces art
madness produces
random slaughter
the ecstasy of it all
Chill Wills riding
an A-bomb to hell
whooping like a
rodeo-clod.
Rusty self-terminated
because UNM
would not accept
twenty year old credits
so that he could finish
his degree and finally
get a job
his deep resonant voice
could not seduce
the single grail he coveted.
Bob painted the inside
of his car with
his own grey-matter
because his lady was
returning and he could
not
bare to have her see
the suffering of his
abused body
too slowly dying,
She loved him so much
she did not cry for him
I held her frail aged form
as she trembled
in the shock of her
own mortality
the tears she did cry
were for her children
who might never understand
until, also, it was too
late.
Dan made final love dance
with strychnine horror
his self-hate had grown
so large that he laid
the ultimate guilt-trip
on his own son
(same to ya, Dan);
I have been to that red-fountain
source of eternal
damnation
stood paralyzed at the specter
death-masks strewn
abandoned desperation.
A friend just wrote that
it is the finality of it
that in the end, after all
other considerations,
stopped him.
Coward -- that's not
a good enough reason
the look on your father's face
is better reason not to;
what an insult to your mother.,
the easy way out, huh,
If you truly have the guts
walk off into the wilderness
swim out into the open sea
and don't burden us with
your self-pity
better yet, stay
be worthy of the spirit
which tries to
live through you.
Care to hear my
bottom line reason?
I will not give satisfaction
to that ass-hole joker
who has perverted my
dream
I am more than the rock.
Ah, William
how idealistically
foolish
correct but useless
I and that fascist sheriff
the only two who know
how you were murdered
and I only who understands
the cutting edge of pain
the blade we wield
samurai of the spirit
the ethereal dragon, fired
of the dark side of
an abused god.
I wonder that cosmic masochism
is the ultimate excuse
of a hopelessly glitched universe
holding a carrot of hope
for perfection, heaven
I have lost the taste
for a carrot I've not
yet tasted
Perfection is the backside
of the nightmare
not worth the ride
I would joy at the Garden
and the Apple with
no games this time.
Oboborous --
stop eating your own
tail!
your mechanism of
masochism is not
what I will carry into
the next universe
Love grown more than just
weary of this infinite
subversion.
I, this weary incarnate soul
simply seek to live
make mistakes without
impossible attachment
and be what I might become
without precondition,
destiny or the threat
of failure.
Father, if I must
renounce you to escape
would you see that as
the final temptation
If so, I am drawn to
simply forget you
neither friend nor enemy
is so abused as to be
simply ignored.
Mother, why do you
endure this abuse
your love claims boundless
but your fear of
loneliness
is the handle by which
you are enslaved to this vision
you bleed of the crucifixion
which but feeds the maggots
that lay their larva
in our mass mind.
Oh, silver beetle brother John
she did not understand
when you said to start
over
she thought you rejected her
for truth you had become her,
but she could not become you
the extra days you
stayed
were more love than most
could ever conceive.
'Tis the womb that makes us
more than reptiles
and binds us to each other.
Get it out --
thrown traumatic and
screaming
into this world
that cord not really severed
tethered, vulnerable
and death but a return
reincarnate - oblivion
the pink vegetable
charging thru time,
now becomes a weed, a cancer
as poverty seeks meaning
by producing more mouths
than the carrying
capacity
of their bleached decaying land.
Get it out --
this poison of opulence
and artificial scarcity
which enslaves both
master and servant
my greatest crime against
this culture, that I
will be neither
"but you don't contribute"
it is accused, but
I don't take stamps for food
and would have little problem
if this manipulation
of economy would stay
out of my face
fences everywhere
cattle in the forest
my heart, with the
cougar
being pushed towards extinction
There is no mercy in the machine
revolutions are
perverted
corporations sacrifice their
Boesky's to minimize
loses
Ollie shreds the trail and
his hero milks Japan
for a few mil
smiling skulls from
slick pages, neon
screams
too beautiful, too confident
the jazz of perfection
hypnotized by desire
subliminal suckle
on the juice of stress.
Get it out --
shrieks the victim
prostrate, unsatiated
how dare you
abuse me yet again
in your frantic lunge
at selfish fulfillment
thousands of babies
lie dying of AIDS
in Romania, because
"it is a Western
disease"
and couldn't happen here
a gay disease
a black affliction
a chicano trait
the jewish problem
the protestant minority
an extremist position
a "moral majority"
a reason, an excuse
a doctrine.
Get it out --
out side, out lived
out of bounds, outrageous
invest, incest
indict, intimidate
by what means do we deceive
ourselves, others
there is naught but means
towards various ends
- no ends in themselves
tools for evolution
each one a petty god
a potential distraction
each a provisional truth
to be discarded
when usefulness is past.
Getting it out --
recycle the garbage
transmute the essences
turn it inside out
become the womb of
this universe
become that which is
beyond wombness;
I am but Adam with
too many ribs,
tired of being
whole and alone.