Sunday, December 7, 2014
December Poems II:
Looking for the Poems!
1) The Iron Age, of Old Age
In old age there is only intermittent sleep
And lots of time to tell life’s strange tales of strife.
Yes, I am always fatigued—
A little off balance—
Weak at the knees—
And not always pleases!
More often than not, feeling like jail-breaking,
Riding horseback out of this body, city, and
This is my little concocted conspiracy: be
Ready, in my cave-room, for at any moment I may
Break-out, betray my body and mind…
So noted a hero of many a revolution!
I can sand it no longer; I am at the critical tick—
Of the clock!
I must throw my hands around the globe,
Around its neck, look at its annoyance and perplexity
Make no more explanations for it—leave!
No need to be skeptical, I’ve lived it, and she has
Scrutinized me, keenly!
She whispers secrets in my ear, says:
“Now or Never!”
Says: “You’re my pilgrim!”
At any rate, she tells me, “You are safe with me!”
She, Mother Earth, calls me a ‘polygamist’
That I am married to her, and Rosa too—
But all I can tell her is, “Monkey see, monkey do!”
She blushes. She’s really a braggadocio.
2) The Night the Hounds were out!
The woofing hounds came down the canyon—
Plunged off into the Cedar Forest
And got lost to the ear of man, forevermore!
I know now their true disappearance, their fate!
They were converted into fiends, for the demonic
Race; for the whims of the Henchman of Hell,
There they remain, season after season, they
Unwilling leave him, this Lord of several legions
Of Demon from Tartarus, to do his bidding!
And now having become nearly like to like in
Spite and harshness, acceding to those devilish
Minds and their wishes—
And now having second sight: apparently these
Dog-fiends, until their deaths, avoid the areas of
Human kinsmen, to carry the lightening-bolts of
Hell, to the outer gates of heaven!
Drawing on toilet paper, the author ran out of paper so he took the next best thing.
12-4-2014/ No: 4647 (Note: many of the author’s drawings are done on napkins likewise, he draws also on paper bags, whatever he can get a hold of when he gets the bug to do so, and he usually does it instantaneously, without much planning or thought. Of course those who know the author, know this to be a common trait, Rosa)
3) The Methodical Primitive Man
Primitive man was not made in God’s image—
This is why the Evolutionist get stuck!
And like everything God has created, he put a time
Clock attached to it—
No different than gravity…
Primitive man thus, had similar tendencies as the God’s
Chosen man, called Adam—
But there is a difference here:
God breathed his breath into the nostrils of Adam—
Not primitive man! That being his forerunners.
According to Sumerian documentation, man in the
Capacity of supernatural, or natural, has been around
For a little over 250,000-years.
Adam, perhaps 10, 700, will have to do.
The gulf was being closed between primitive man and
Civilized man when God chose to remold humanity!
Though again, God uses time in creating, and this has
To do with the perfect man: and the old if they could not
Adapt, just would not do!
They’d have to go…!
But as we journey down this path, I think it not unusual
To see language develop, as with culture and power of reason
And impulse control, and attention span.
Also, innovation, and sustainability develop along the way.
From the foolish to the sensible.
Through racial combinations, and domestication.
God did not take the mystery out of creation, live, he let
It slides, in our social structure:
From nature to nurture.
Out of the flux of this transition, forming more definitely
Man, accordingly, taking on the appearance and
Attributes of his new permanence—
God hand succeeded in devising a world as intricate as it was
Vast—I mean, it worked!
Despite all the efforts primitive man tried to clog and hamper
This of course was a surprise to god’s angels, they had not
Conceived this possible.
Nonetheless, God allowed this chaos to continue.
And men became slaves to other men, toiled in the minds and
Fields, while the members of the greater race, the elite casts
Lived contented and merrily.
No, they showed no mercy to tier less fortunate brothers and
In essence, they cared nothing.
This body of mixed primitives still did evolve, yet they lost
Touch with sympathy, morality and even consciousness.
In the last days before the Great Flood,
This primitive race constituted
The balance of power in the struggling of the world order.
All were according to the play of intrigue and conspiracy.
This was for the most part, an unexpected development, even to God.
As a human species, class, race, they no longer disciplined themselves.
They were, I may say, apprenticed to thievery, murder, angel worship,
All carving the thought-process of the world in the direction of the Endlessness of Tartarus—
This also did not happen overnight!
They were taught and later they in turn taught and I suppose
They assimilated, they began as children.
All this throughout, with time was woven into them—
They even stooped so low as to eat bone and flesh of their race!
They looked at one another as wild-animal trainers, rulers of beasts,
As they had converted back to.
Hence, came one violent death after another.
And unfortunately, a portion of that legacy is left in some of us!
Yes, the fangs of the roaring abysmal beast lingers
In Humanity! Dominate in some.
Yet we are the survivors of humanity, and we are heroic.
For all the sacrifices our forefathers had to do to get us here—
To seek God’s will.
No: 4649/ 12-5-2014
4) Ridden by Death
(Goals of the Western World/USA)
America, its allies, the free Western World—
What do they think…?
They think they are in a class of their own—
They believe alone they maintain civilization.
And should ever they weaken, the Great Beasts of China,
Russia and the Confederation of Gulf States,
And whomever else fits into this puzzle, would engulf
Them in its hollow and slim-dripping paws.
And because of this view the only thing that is besides
Them and us, is anarchy! And this anarchy would cause:
Civilization would painfully, to drop backwards to a
Primitive night, —
And this world’s skeleton,
Forevermore, would be held before our children:
Inducing, eyes obsessed with cultivated fear:
So, forevermore, they hold this picture—before our very eyes—
As it follows us, unconsciously, wherever we go.
So now we have found the beast to be stomped upon.
And those secret unremitting sacrificial assemblies in
America and its allies, whom intend to stand strong,
For the weakness of humanity, and between
The all-devouring beasts, — for humanity’s sake!
Thus avoiding—so they promise— the Pale Horse of death,
And yes, they believe this, firmly believe this…
I shall call it ethical righteousness of the whole American
Underworld, for lack of a better term—
And we can include her allies, the whole Western World
For a matter-of-fact, plus!
And this has been her strength.
And not many Americans at home have come to realize
America’s, world domination—; although we can see it in
Her rewards and punishments handed out, worldwide.
It is accordingly between them and us, so it is framed!
(as if it is between heaven and hell, and the prime factor being,
heaven is America, and Right, more right than wrong.
In short, the world needs to show America, right conduct to pass).
This is not a poem of right or wrong, just a simple poem on fact!
And so America builds more prisons,
Hands out more banishments, while:
Incidental accidents occur more frequent, and assassinations
Are delivered, directly, or indirectly, in the name of:
As the war on terror continues…!
And their great driving force is that they are making the world
A little bit safer!
Is that not good enough?
Never mind the exceptions, forget the oppression—
The injustice, in which she has conceived.
All is granted on her terms! On need to know.
Now what am I really saying here?
Is it not the point—is being the strength of the United States
Government with its military today,
Is it not they reside in a satisfied conception of its own virtue (?)
For the last century, it has resided on just that premise,
Her sense of pro!
And so, believing, many young soldiers have come to
Sacrifice martyrdom for her.
But this is capitalism—
Sharp and severe as a steel pointed Rock.
Men have died under torture refusing to betray her trust.
Refusing the blessings of fatherhood.
And she has been loyal to her soldiers in many ways:
More so than any other country… and
Wherever you go in America there is a great abiding for the right—
And perhaps that is why so many fear to leave her,
To adventure beyond her boarders, she is their Sanctuary!
They don’t see around them the great hordes of:
Secret Agents, police, various government officials
Pledged to America’s righteousness.
Knowing all this, have they not felt the loss of liberty?
Does a frog know he’s being boiled alive over a hundred year time—
As the master turns the gas flame up a millimeter, once a year?
Is not America sinking into the harsh anguish of content with misery?
A pitiable lull I’m sure some government official will say if honest.
The walls, towers, shafts of America are built stronger now—
As are now, the governing body becoming madly impatient,
Watching China and Russia gain Ill-fated global dominance.
Monkey see, monkey do: they’ve become tired of watching America
And so, America no longer worries about torment,
They say such revolves around great plans.
All this of course, in case the event of the first World Government’s
A failure (the ultimate plan).
All now, has been arranged for this forthcoming day!
We are all in place like a chess set.
All accounted for.
The shadow of the earth is now underneath us,
And the puppets are
5) Where the Waters Meet
Where the waters meet, where no people live—
I shall go, live apart and build my home!
Between the waters here I shall hand over the
Hidden burden of life.
Like a canoe drifted idly I shall be, shall be
Perhaps long in a vision dream.
I will spy upon God, and the devil himself,
Perhaps angels and imps too.
When people ask: “What did you see?”
I shall say, “Superhuman beings, not like us,
With different bodies.”
I wonder in what way I will explain what I saw,
And they will come, they will come.
Maybe I’ll see visions of the future disclosed,
And hear God’s adjustments, who’s to say.
Watch the developments of the devil as he
Will see us unavoidable.
See if peace is possible.
How will God make man stop from making the
I have kept this secret for this moment—
I shall live there until I am slightly stooped, my
Broad face, deeply etched, and my hair, white!
Although I am old already, I will be then too old to
Paddle back to life, so I will bring my coffin
And cross, with me!
I will step into it when this long-anticipated
Reverberated impulse must eventually and
On that day will I look back sorrowfully, and longing—?
Have we all not in some way transformed life—?
And looking back again ask, or be asked:
Have I left a paradise, or helped create a lost paradise?
Why am I not dead?
Has not destiny tugged my sleeve and kept me?
Has not my second sight told me, I shall find there
What all men seek?
If we live intimately with possibilities, that other men
Cannot even imagine, if even only in dreaming,
Perhaps we can force them to become true.
For I have already caught a glimpse of this reality, and
The rest—in part—of the other life.
And no longer had I been there than an hour, stood in
Statuesque immobility, lounged carelessly against a wall,
Looking down watching mankind move about, was Satan
In person, looking down, as if they be his slaves starring
Away any respect that should he be seen,
No one should enjoy that more than he…!
Then he seemed to nod toward the viands—
His mind upon other matters, for his time he knew was short!
And there stood by him a the Henchman of Hell,
By the name of Agaliarept, and Arch devil Belphegor!
And I heard him mumble to the Henchman,
“I have stood here many times in the past,”
Nodding his head in suspicion, “I am guarded, who
Watches me, watching them?”
And I whispered to my mind’s eye,
‘The bloodhound’s sense are good!”
Satan paces uneasily about, “Will you both be seated,” he
Told the Arch Devil and Henchman.
“What are your orders?” asked Belphegor.
“That is all,” he said, for the moment.
“What bothers you?” asked the Henchman.
And Satan turned sharply from the viands, to him:
“It is not for you to know, or see,
To know more than the king divulges, you re my servant.”
Was his reply.
For a time came a long silence.
I gathered, by his concentrated knack, on cleverness,
He was devising a hateful crisis which he had felt due him,
For mankind, to get God’s undivided attention:
My best guess, mankind’s demise!
But all he said to the two visitors, was: “Arise, you may go.”
6) No Way Back!
(Philip Seymour Hoffman: 2014)
What does Mr. Hoffman leave us recovering folk? (Actor, director, producer…)
A widely admired American!
What can we learn from the scratchy turn of events, which took place in his life, at the very end…?
His early life, and his recovering life and his death and relapse!
For a drunk, and drug addict, don’t look for a way back, as if to use or drink in moderation…
There is no such passage!
Don’t torture yourself, as Mr. Hoffman did, by self-imposed punishment on a Broadway Play, such as it was, in: “Death of a Salesmen”…
Which appears apparent now to fit in place!
Running backwards under stress to what he knew best, to lower his pain!
Had he walked away, having twenty-three years of sobriety—he may have very well lived to have counted his twenty-forth, temperance date!
But instead he died in relapse, of: combined drug intoxication, and heroin overdose!
At forty-six, he found his way back to the abyss!...
And for all of this he can teach us who have felt Satan’s Curse: there is no fix, for trying to find a way back to normal usage; that is to say, usage in moderation!
The Devil closes the door, always softly, as he departs—; and in most cases you don’t feel his naked hand on your shoulder—
As he does, he whispers: “No need to fear me…”
Then, in an even more hushed tone, “Let my sin be upon all men,” are
His last maledict words; thus, this, this is what he leaves us with:
This cursed creature of the abyss!