HIGHWAYS: THE ALPHA POEMS By Klaus J. Gerken (2004) A1 A brilliant man once said: "Alphabet soup is just a piece of cake." Now no one knew what it meant, of course, but it made Groucho Marx cry, and somehow Mario Lanza was never the same after they lauded Caruso the greater tenor. After all, he didn't slug it out in Night at the Opera but did die of pleurisy in excruciating pain needing one more dose of Carnegie Hall, and all those who shook their jewelry and brushed the lint from their tuxedos in a mass of solidarity never knowing what was sung of what it's all about. Of course the unions knew...and those who laughed riotously at Groucho and gang knew all along but no one dared to say it for it was too silly, pretty, and downright irreligious: "Alphabet soup is just a piece of cake." And wouldn't you know it, of all the letters there never was an A. 28 July 2003 A2 Absalom Abigail Answers that never fail Acorns Atoms Autocratic theocracies Societies that never sleep Absurd you say I cannot keep the knowledge of the atmosphere Veils of silk in snaky moonlight where the raptors propagate Abigail draws water from the yellow moonlit well Absalom discovers Hell And where is all this going? The monk is drunk and silly smiles are all his wisdom I am quite assured of all this reason: Political assassination Blood upon the carpet where opera singers sing and chandeliers come crashing down Pretty colors on the crown and laughter screeching laughter all around But that was Autumn Spring is yet to come And summer was a pale aroma of the palace evening Given access one might drown But who would we abscond Alberkirky in the sun And Flushing digs an evil grave beside a broken river (I know you don't like liver) But as the body is a mountain Abigail is still a fountain And Absalom requires hate to be above them But you will never know the loss someone outside threw away Digging pits for row on rows of tiny little crosses Amber really does dictate a past we are to be Studied till invisible when A come to the front and yells at Z to let it by Whatever lovers want 11 Aug 2003 A3 "Get 1 Acre on the Moon for 29.99" A mile away no less I want to cultivate the garden and yet the temp + 90 and the humidex's 100 and we're supposed to wear our clothes so cool the sweat will never matter much less offend but yet the world's great consciousness fails... the past is not remembered it's our interpretation of the words and images and those who lived are just an object nothing we should care about but idealize and think we know better when they knew nothing but a child born a thousand if not a hundred years ago without our "modern" methods maybe we're the barbarians waiting at the gates of Alexandria because pretending is our game and the barbarians knew only life and death and where between can you tell me lies the truth? 12 August 2003 A4 You were a pleasant surprise lemons in a rusty pail who could compromise were virgins never fail? I would gather lemons off the tree of hope were it not that lemons neutralize my dope Hope you have some shelter Hope there is an A engraved above your bedpost Remember good old Villon and Rimbaud and his wound... Spite all the lemons, those two kept the tunes. 12 Aug 2003 A5 A mouse alerted me The cat was fast asleep 28 Oct 2003 A6 ABSTRACT ~~~~~~~~ biased based on a banana peel someone slipped on and broke his memory or maybe it was she politically correct we must be or the pedophile Socrates builder of democracy or that terrorist Jesus builder of our laws looking back don't we have to hate history children can't be disciplined anymore but adults are punished for making "wrong'' decisions maybe if children were disciplined as adults there wouldn't be the need to treat adults as children yes prosecute the murderers and those who cause violence to others but to smoke a joint choose to see what seems not to fit I don't understand that I don't understand a law that humiliates and destroys lives even of the innocent and never is accountable the book says this and that's how it must be not argumentable set in stone not human but divine but what's divine? the alpha and omega the rest is hidden law defines society the more laws a society has the greater its insecurity the most successful countries have the least laws but they don't want to hear that they only think that they will lose control control of what? themselves? the alpha begets omega and nothing begets nothing... 28 Oct 2003 A7 in the beginning was the conclusion the salmon dies to reproduce the praying mantis eats its mate should the universe be different time be linear our perceptions still correct or should the obvious refuse the obvious? the butterfly sees ultraviolet we a different spectral universe yet we hear but do not see sounds although all wavelengths make up the sensorium of the livingverse all is life and life is all time is present future past all released at once and since nothing exists all exists and we know nothing search for everything through models approximating what we visualize so it is true through observation no one knows what is real... 26 dec 2003 A8 sometimes one breaks the moments rather than the moment breaking us we are just substance material piss upon the floor rotting corpses priests will understand I buried my father one cold february afternoon and years later my mother's ashes in the hole she said forgotten and alone and she's right i never visited her grave i never keep the vigil i never hear the bugle mourn i hunger for intangibles the universe correct i marvel at technology frantically express consternation when the moment halves and those who would be there are not i pray you are an institution individuals you are not 30 Dec 03 A10 who knows how you came to be a rock a microbe an insolvability you were heavy like a stone metal silver gold or bone and then you walked around naked while others shared your clothes so hollowed sections found you a juvenile affair -- you were pretty beyond measure -- I guess there was something nothing caught the devil by his tail and while the wine flowed freely there was cinnamon and patchouli sickening the room - love's free. 30 dec 2003 A11 one more eggnog laced with havana club 7 year aged rum death is like a savior if life will not confess confetti or peculiar one more parlor surrogated mess pray pope do not pray any more or less havana once was fertile Hemingway shot himself Kurt Cobain found fame... the rest of us are lame. 2.17am 31 dec 2003 A12 sitting under a magnolia tree i found three diamonds and, obscurity... 31 dec 03 A13 you walk the streets at midnight you rummage in the dawn light you harbor meaning dark you mow my lawn 3 Dec 03 = 2.41am A14 the problem with death is we experience it with birth we are not mentally involved and have no recollection our mother does however and therein lies the great debate is birth a beginning or an end is death the same death is not death has (albeit sometimes limited) wisdom we experience it we do not experience birth is that what makes us human is that what makes us crave a divine interloper i don't know i don't know what human is and I certainly don't know any divine interloper god may frown but god is a disease and we cannot purge ourselves by hiding or by asking money for his cause there is no cause that humans have not built and maybe god is everywhere but nowhere to be found when disaster strikes while each church is built on solid rock we must do our noblest best, footsure in fast quicksand and resurrect a god manipulative or maybe not yet watching all of this i hope without cataracts alone i'm sorry we don't know birth i'm terrified of death 31 dec 2003 - 747am A15 lets be open and plain about this i am a predator and so are you we just kill and eat stuff that doesn't complain raptors tyrannosaurus rex maybe we've a better brain maybe we have not subjective like the universe we build a model universe fits our situation well maybe we are just peripherals and nothing out there cares about our mess we are still just common predators but now eating at a table with knives and forks representing the best of all that was knowing nothing came before us except our bringing down... 31 dec 03 - 757am A16 you look into my eyes you know the day I die you say it won't be soon i've heard that kind of lie... 31 dec 03 - 801am A17 the album was yours couldn't understand it anyway what you wanted guess you got simple fact of life's insecurity duty never acts ................responsibly. 29 Jan 2--4 A18 voices voices others reprimand most will never hear voices i do not command yet others think they fear and voiced those who in command corrupt in every ear voices speak to me and they tell me not to fear and I think that I believe them when they whisper in my ear "the others are corrupt" and I know what the others do and they tell me they are true and I cannot differentiate I cannot tell one from the other but one of them is stronger It's the voice of no return and now I want to shrink from that because I value what I have they threaten me with evil they threaten me with hate I who have only wondered what would be mankind's fate if all would sit together and share a common laugh but you see there is no common laugh there is a common howl which reaches through the universe and leaves no one alive as the fool will never vanquish the state will draw it's sword and the wise man give his head and the poet pleads "why am I not dead?" 29 Jan 2004 A19 the perks of proper government are gone so be it with the perks of any "john" and if they think the law can live like this they haven't found the proper ass to kiss. 29 Jan 2004 A20 so 24 years of service doesn't matter I'm one hour over for my sick leave fodder and my boss wants grovel I just cannot meet your high horse has a broken bladder. A21 Growth ~~~~~~ alpha beta purple plus meet me where we cannot rust give me something I can think about but give me something I can trust it's not where we have had a purpose the bridge to truth is never perfect but you have made a purple pie and what we eat will never lie sometimes there is such a moment we can never understand but know it's the proof that we are human it's the seed we want to sow and if we need be we can crumble like a leaf beneath a tree. 28 Jan 04 A22 JUSTICE ~~~~~~~ they speak of rules and regulations I speak of fools and their negations they say the common good is for a purpose I say the common good is for a surplus there's nothing that should regulate but the person who should explicate the purpose he or she has made no judge can judge the mind that's not his own no criminal can therefore expunge his crown but be careful judge, judge only what is known. A23 my head it hurts it hurts i have a thunderbolt in my brain it's like a purple rain falling like a locomotive on a martian plain where I guess it cannot rain but I must be true to past schematics most used acid rather than prestomagic fold those beasties who believe we common folks know nothing about our rights funny...when they leave us alone we do alright (speculating I might whisper "It's a money grab"...but then that is a misdemeanor and a month in jail where they lock up anyone they do their damndest to embarrass and to suck their vampire juices out and do a "non-death" lynching...where the sentence is not a sentence but a criminal destruction of what should never be...after all a free society should only care about controlling those crimes about society which are dangerous...violence... property destruction...home invasion... everything else is a private ordination... this is not concluded...) A24 so you're just a little guy no one listens anyway it's them who make the rules it's us who follows 'em, it's them and them and them one wonders who is "them"? society at large or "elected" "government"? I "feel" for those who don't know feel worse for those who do shit smells so much better when the wind don't cross you A25 when i was in love with you i wasn't now i am i do respect you like i never respected you before so why do you ask for money when you can have my soul a cappella formed a shadow the nine ball formed the rule and why did I deliver-- you were stars beneath my feet fireflies deliver why can't you be neat... i won't be any bother the ashes burned my feet... 29 Jan 2004 A26 burn me baby burn me the tree is not my own one baby to deliver another branch to own heaven as a purpose does not a rover make the lance where who I cannot name is fore a dead queen's fate how can you relate... Nostradamus anger will give truth while you wait... and how can I refuse you... you who smile so much...never think that feeling's where you try to touch. A27 Growth ~~~~~~ Alpha beta purple plus meet me where we cannot rust give me something I can think about but give me something I can trust It's not where we have had a purpose the bridge to truth is never perfect but you have made a purple pie and what we eat will never lie sometimes there is such a moment we can never understand but know it's the proof that we are human it's the seed we want to sow and if we need be we can crumble like a leaf beneath a tree. 28 Jan 04 A28 voted the first begotten the worst the liver is toxic and the diamond just dirt i feel for the moment they can't understand i know what i'm thinking and they can't comprehend a coded expression a phrase out of line comprehend slowly time does not think time and were i a river i would flow to the sea and every rock i encounter would be reality no upside down promise no ant in the storm i was broke when they found me i reflected the norm broke and delivered i followed the rules rules no one minded ...i followed the fools now in september i am late in my voice but the past and the future grant a new choice deliver the promise but promise not much the granite above you is sore to the touch i understand duty i understand law i refuse to deliver what cannot live raw and so comes the meaning no sage places free a code is a journey not outside...in me. 31 Jan 2004 A29 there is no greater danger than finding your way before you are ready to deliver your say 31 jan 04 A30 snow that melts upon the rock rock that melts upon the snow shadow visible in light light in shadow visible grapes that never get to wine wine that never comes from grapes vision that is purely mental illusion that is purely vision voices that are never heard hearing that does not need voices sound that is not understanding music that invigorates the heart and somehow we demean the meaning and never notice how we live apart. 31-01-04 A31 Irish whiskey green as the waves of grass near Shannon marooned there several hours coming back after time spent in Europe trying to regroup all too many years ago and now just caves of memory and watered down with ginger ale not bad but never what it was or should have been birds of prey have meaning a cabbage patch results 1 Feb 2004 A32 should you be a mountain or a valley i don't know i'm an alley kat feed on rats and garbage carry no more luggage should you be a mountain should you be a valley be a tourist and you'll never have to see an alley 1 Feb 04 A33 The duties of confetti paints a purple past haggis is remembered where a beaver cannot last knowledge is committed violence is new an iceberg is deliverance and melts like me and you so shadow me no moments and purple me no past i am the son of shadows and cannot be a bass 1 Feb 04 A34 you remember one thing i another between us an eternity where the past is an austerity you meander another and time is not complete you are focused on remembrance the presence finds no feet have you found the border the beach is ever changing no fence is that complete you rage into a puddle you cannot be that great i only smile and close the rusted gate 1 feb 04 A35 to m you never cheated me welcome home 1 feb 04 A36 the fool who bleeds eternity bleeds tomorrow even more 1 feb 2004 A37 History ~~~~~~~ and where b minor milks the a like a bleeding albatross around the neck of any sailor with a whore dreaming of lugubrious escape into the realm of purple escapades and manicured accoutrements (do the hippy hippy shake) and laugh the jester into heel feel and feel and feel and feel and grope where grope is necessary never once apologize keep the solid hollow size window dressing and for show you will grow as you will grow never sit upon your knee never howl beneath a tree the moon is all the moon would please oh c'mon now and do the shake do the hippy hippy shake and kiss the blarney stone of hope (why do pretty girls do dope?) the statue reels from too much gain watch that he don't feel no pain watch it doesn't rain on rain watch the grain don't eat no grain we are one poor social evolution a million years and no solution (psychology! psychology!) rave on and blur the mystic eye lack of music curdles sky (mystic galaxies know why) I am the eye of any eye I am the eye I am the eye I am the mystic you know why glutton in a waste disposal flowers in a pool of blood why should I apologize why should I be you and you and no one else but me and me why are you the law and I the beast of burden hate me for my curiosity hate me for the borders I transgress hate me for the resolution bow to no one but your own the romans had the gates of Janus the greeks had mighty Mars and the 'gyptians had Osiris once butchered cut in halves still masturbated through the universe and flooded earth with milky sperm who are we to dismiss myth? who are we to know our own? so b minor melts into an a a twig sprouts flowers when it's free as squirrels dance noisily on buds chattering that spring has come surprising children whereas old ones laugh having seen it all before upon the threshold of your open door locked and silent welcome home who has seen the shadows that you own who has been afraid no less that a beggar just might tear your dress begging alms and thinking less but I have no affinity to hope sometimes I can hardly cope but still as fleas jump from a dog humans jump with leaps of faith into the trash bins where some keep their bait I just wait and wait and wait hands in pockets whistle tunes heard some time before but never knew miss those times of wasted dew how the smoke keeps curling up towards the moon reflected in my cup I never knew I never knew the liturgy of blond regress half the truth lies in her dress or so they want the swamp to thing the swamp is drained and they want drink gullible no less than hope I think the status quo is all a-doped what we are trying to do they say but the streets are heavy with decay and the makers of the law don't live in the streets - the suburbs aren't alive they're just a concept no one rides into the sunset anymore - Fay Wray hides in King Kong's arms - and New York burns for entertainment and a dollar earned is there anything we haven't turned into a profit - wasted polish but thoughts like that are always spurned reduced to cinders tramped to ashes cold against the hollow wind of reason do not speak the truth it is a treason hide and smile and save the nation golly gee where's Batman when we need him in a comic book of course - seems reality's the advertisement - not the story - can we abscond to that...don't know, there's a growling dog chewing my leg and the law brings in a hog to clean up the carnage when they've done hail to the chief and hail to the son and hail to anyone at Haliburton cnn and Michael Jackson I love the breast of Janet Jackson though I do not love you Timbernickle I do respect your fingers fickle quite a show t'upset a nation mired in the quagmire of corruption a breast a breast give me a breast or give me....? I transgress on sacred floor mats - my regrets I'm just not one to leave alone petty failures on a throne read the papers if you must but leave some for the rest of us so as the big folks say "ta do" "i'm just not perfect" but a fool so very very very cool (what's a giant bird to do)? well, lets leave politicians out of what the equation's meant to be without the fucking do re me... the whores of bureaucratic slavery demand from slaves, both you and me and we just smile, proud of democracy and vote the bastards in again... "the worse is worse for what is left" we claim and cower in our underdress we give them all, they give us less and we just bow before the gods we've made... we are the clowns in their parade... grace before us give and take provide for us the great mistake and have a common simple test are you alive?...yea or nay...? let evolution do the rest... I break no bones but know the sewer the alley and the empty streets at 4am quiet still and fortunate to be alive...yet shadows yield more shadows and the yellow tinged event horizons swallow everything the garbage rats and disenfranchised as the knowing stay behind their bars of flowing sanitary curtains and regrets and images that flutter waste electrons on a screen and hammer home a solitude not noticed for the opiate it is the lotus eaters who envision only half of what is possible and nothing what they can achieve Is it possible they are not even born? and live where psychics cannot dream a false reality but only stutter where the vanity of words absconds and the ragweed howls upon the moon? no level have I seen not there where the warriors copy muted ends and hide behind the burning tree of hope one levels thought where thought ascends to possibilities and lies are bloated twisted tongue-tied maggots on the sore where reason cannot harbor wooden galleys loss of rot, decay and "why should I accept responsibility?" -- I cannot tell a truth I do not know -- a simple ending to a fairy tale might well provide the coronation of a dream, and sanction wars and hatred for a monstrous defeat of evils perceived and not begotten I (and what am I?) hide beneath the tree of life and gnaw a rotten format in its roots that does not simplify where we come from where are we going or will end... the beginning does not know the end as any fool will comprehend but any "genius" glides across and finds a general albatross around his neck...we smile...we are possessed...by something science cannot measure...the moment of our worth because science cannot comprehend our birth...poets do...but no one cares for poets and peripherals...society no longer sanctions shamans or the darker alleys of experience...in other words, no one wants their garbage tossed around. much of what we do is ground cinnamon or stronger spices hiding rot and falsehood and we still don't see that living beings live and crimes are made by laws and not by "criminals" -- we falter every step to "righteousness" knowing nothing what will hurt us most -- our own belief that we are something greater than the universe which created us -- we are such fools, cheated by our own conclusions. and how will we survive our murd'rous scope seeking one solution false above another? how will the future comprehend "suicide bombers"? what assassins fit into the presence? who refuses to be universal if not out of fear? I just worry about my cat..fleas and if I'm feeding him and how much has to be how much. I just get along (as most folks do)...so why should someone get the grandiose illusion that what they have is better than the rest? and why should anyone refer to texts written as propaganda for another time transposing what can never be transposed -- isn't that why empires fall? they refuse to change accepting change...yet isn't that also how they're born? dust to dust...and if there's ashes, ashes... dust before birth...and ashes...after death... too often ashes mingle with dust...and dust is blown asunder on the wind...wild...as if a message we will never understand...cannot understand obscured by greed and hate and war and peace gained at a desperate price...who suffers most if not the unreal dead who did not die but for a silly copy of what no one should have known --and never will--death is a greater "suicide bomber" never questioning, always hoping there is something else...and always tragically young. the old squat too close to death to give a shit. and the rest are too dumb to comprehend. there's a silence that pervades the universe... the universe of our own souls...and fear reverberates against the solid walls of incommunicado... walls we piss upon...walls that remain long after we have vanished with the burning amber of our long forgotten vision...and then they attack... not our vision...not our sensibilities...but our comforts...our "right" to "immortality" through mortal means...we leave behind our shells and call it heritage...they leave behind nothing because the next world is a better cause... both will dream illusions when the sun explodes and we are nowhere near to understanding...fleas fighting for a taste of blood on unknown worlds somewhere in an unknown universe...and we have this illusion...we are more substantial than a flea... and the flea that still sucks blood conquers the flea that builds a telescope...and survival will never gather new horizons...but close them...like a plague to survive forever in a world unchanging... and the world is changing... each moment changes everything...forever... d minor a minor f slow progression to a law well stated never understood how could we ever notice verbal insignificance if it's visual few would understand as the universe is our illusion we pretend a life we can't substantiate... where two and two is one less minus what we have created to substantiate our claim being what we are no less than what we aren't... the highway clogs the ceiling nowhere else to turn one wine too acidic one grape left alone upon the vine and perhaps the pleasure that we missed was never missed but only known to one lost grape... impossible fractions where mathematicians fail and we sort our wonder to explain the muse we shift realities to complete a cause we compliment reality by telling desperate lies and as the lies become reality humanity crumbles into a heap of substitutions and where my head hurts stars explode creating new life new experiences new hope and exploration I will never see having been privileged to know the birth of a future reality only dreamed of as a boy and i stand upon the Plain of Tharsus where mars looms large from Heinlein to tepid movies or credible astronomers with canals on their mind it'll never be like that again we've reached out to the stars and lost our imagination we've only a reality now a possibility not a dream and where do we go from here while our own planet is in turmoil and no one can see beyond their own expansion...never once does the greater picture entertain...gods so ancient form a bond where nothing but "the law" is "real" and nothing but a "life beyond" matters... not even photographs of this blue earth matters this small planet in the universe of greater things than we will ever know and still we kill each other over three religious books all supposedly composed by the same author: the one sole GOD. how "enlightened" can we be? so then, where does the "a" stand? the bleeding albatross we wear like a thorn which pricks our blood and hides our crucifixion only to expose the maggots on the bread of our communion... our disease is death and our hell is life and with armies of circumference we think we can survive so we kneel before the coffins and invoke a grave injustice but whose injustice? and who's to say what's right? after all the "moralistic" order has been and tyrants plow black and fertile ground...guess no one has the courage to say "stop". they say we are on "hallowed" ground sacred and worth fighting over as long as the "god of peace" resounds in a great big huff and spews forth messages of peace and love and harmony with a dagger in his jowls... so, let me speak a bit of History and how it might have come about and here all three religions will hate me and here I speak my truth what I have found in my own search and they will ill accept: Egypt Anhkhenaten destruction - followers enslaved cast out of egypt - jews? 40 years in the wilderness Tutankhamen's widow and negotiations with "northern tribes" Israel? one god? Moses -vizier of Amenhotep IV? Israel David temple disappearance of the ark Abyssinia, etc. (Sheba) prophets judges roman occupation Jeheshua bin Miriam - legitimate line of David fights for right to throne is executed for terrorism against rome James, His brother head of lineage - Jesus political martyr Saul (as Paul) begets Jesus as a religious entity changing sleeper cells to religious communities gospels elaborate the religious aspects rome converted to "christianity" but this spawns "religion" and religion is a great machine of propaganda...and the powers that be know the fact and will never let it go it is a too powerful aphrodisiac no matter how they've tried to disguise it it's all been about religion since this "one" god deal was created before that it was about territory and the food and slaves it can reap religion is a fungus population is a fungus and Gaia only has so much territory and no one seems to care and the snapshot is intimidating one small round blue ball flecked with white with a black horizon but religion cultivates simple minds lowest common denominators same as politics same as education for the general population the great amorphous horde manipulated into dunce caps stupidity i shake my head i shake my head i shake my head the tv tube goes dead. 1 feb 04 - 26 Apr 04 A37 minimal poem now expand extract the marrow rewrite minimal the master nods the student shakes his head "I do not understand" neither does the poem, man... but it makes for better reading. 18 feb 04 A38 they want things explained to them when will they ever learn to think? 18 feb 04 A39 I do not like you Timbernicke I do not listen to your songs Before I listen to J. Jackson I would rather muster to hot thongs. 18 feb 2004 A41 koan ~~~~ the hollow realm of death inspires a light that does not meet the worm 23 Feb 2004 A42 My ex is jealous of my cat, who's a male. "You aren't that," she wails. I'm not the psychiatrist to allay her confusion. "My cat's a cat," I say, amused at how it's twisted. I guess the world has come so far to hold all species on a par... although I know she surely wouldn't want to think quite that far... I didn't ask my cat for comment. He was basking on a vital moment. A43 what's a cat to do all day but purr and lick his paws all day or sleep and dream and want his way I guess a cat just wants to say I want to feel and lick and sleep all day. 6 mar 04 A44 Where Blood Flows ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fit me in the pocket of my soul and I will kiss the ground you bleed upon know me where I know your disagreement and I will shadow a commitment and harbor every insecurity you have ever known 9:01 1st day spring 2004 A45a she confuses me by being herself and I am someone else removing the mask of my eternity consigned forever to the burning flames my mind refuses to repel what it cannot see and so a fatal gravity converges at our heart no lie is ever shadowed where the light grows dim. A46 My Father ~~~~~~~~~ My Father was born October '11 to a woman whose husband would die in World War I and left her with 7 children and a farm. My father walked barefoot his first seven years to a schoolhouse several miles away, helped out in the fields before and after school, and was soon apprenticed to a barber to make money like his older brothers did. Played the rouge in the 30's and played the mandolin, even had a strand of curly back hair running down the center of his forehead, and the handsome guy courted one of 5 sisters, daughter of a man who was both schoolteacher, mayor, and fire chief of a small village, and as the only teacher taught himself each instrument to teach the kids and create a youth orchestra still active in today's Germany. And then came Hitler. My father was drafted and became barber to the troops and married my mother "because it wasn't allowed to live together then" and was wounded near Stalingrad (wounds he would show his son only years later in Canada when I noticed a crooked finger). I was born in the Spring of '49 in Cuxhaven where my father first worked at several jobs but mainly as a watchman at the harbor where the oily waters and dark shadows between anchored ships and boats always carried danger. Often he would take me with him and Bingo our dog too and one night some criminals were caught and Bingo was decorated and was always a hero in the town. But hero or not my father wanted to be his own man and opened a little barber shop in a small alley behind a butcher shop and there I brought him every day his lunch where Bingo would carry the paper bag and I would stop on the way back (after admiring the empty boxes in my father's shop window) at the "Herring Kitchen" and pick up some smoked eel and herring for evening supper. Bingo of course was always treated free to delicacies, and when I wasn't able to go Bingo went alone. One night near Christmas a small yellow canary flew into our open window (we lived on Wilhelm Heidzieg Strasse in a third story loft) and my mother and me went searching for the owner who lived behind the coal distributors in a small straw-roofed house with plants and bird cages, old lamps and trinkets glistening in the evening sun and my father caught the canary several days later and we brought it back to an old woman who seemed to epitomize the history of druid Germany keeping alive the powers which defeated Rome and somehow provided a continuation with the past, knitting everything together not like an academic's motive but as a hand sewn quilt of truth that books will not reveal. But that Christmas was also special for many other things (the last one we would spend in Germany). There was the "Stolle" my mother baked in the old gas oven, the "Stolle" which would explode in the oven and overflow on the kitchen floor and she would have to cut into many large pieces to get out and neighbors would come and gather pieces like manna bread which would be the best "Stolle" anyone would ever bake. And then my father would disappear for hours on end in an annex next to the living room. I was not allowed to enter. And I never even looked even though there was no door and just a curtain to obscure the mystery, and what a mystery it was. My father had build a complete town with a train and stations and lights and bridges and people and hills and everything done by hand and painted by hand and everything authentic and everything lost all these years later, not even a photograph but a very strong and irreplaceable memory and yes there was also a wooden box and puppets and I staged plays for my friends and one day at a neighbor's house some one staged a puppet show with my puppets and I laughed so hard I pissed my pants. My father came to lead me home... that night something happened I can never forget but can also never remember and the innocence of youth was never the same. Several months later my father left for a foreign land; he took my mother and me on a tour of the harbor and all I can remember is it was my 9th birthday and I waved my father goodbye on the wharf and returning home we had friends over and they made a circle around me singing happy birthday and I began to cry and hid in the bedroom which had always been my own. Sinister, it had become foreign and sinister... After that he sent presents from Canada: plastic airplanes and other toys and I used the plastic airplanes to target my friends playing "sissy" where they would stand at a wall and I would aim the plane at them and they would have to duck to escape injury... that's when something happened and a doctor said I would die (later, in my mother's words) if she did not take me to Canada and see my father. We left that June and the journey was easy but one night sea sickness took over and I stayed in bed a day but at Quebec City my mother cried when all she saw were old dilapidated wooden shacks as houses. But Montreal was cosmopolitan and a little scary and my father picked us up and led up to Ottawa where he still only had a room in lower town on Cobourg street next to the fire station. We stayed there a month and then moved to an apartment in a house shared by a Jew from Stalingrad who accused my father of war crimes and we had to move. We moved 6 times during the next three years. The first year we had a heat wave and not being used to the heat my mother put wet bed sheets on the windows to keep out the sun. It was also the time I remember in my room listening to my parents arguing with the TV turned up so I wouldn't hear. My mother collected stray cats and when one was abducted by students at Ottawa University for experiments she raided the lab and set all the cats free. There was a story in the paper. But the cat was never the same; she still had electrodes in her head and then just crept away to die. And then there was a large brown tabby; he appeared on day at out doorstep and when we opened the door he made himself comfortable in my father's favorite chair and stayed. My mother called him Polly and when he went roving at night my mother would call out "Polly, where are you" into the darkness and always a man would appear from across the street wondering what was going on. Only later did we find out his name was also Polly, and his wife kept wondering why this woman was always calling her husband at night. A cat like no other cat followed us as we moved but was always independent and always found us even after months and many streets. The final time was when we moved to a White House across from the shopping center where my father was manager of a barber shop and there we found an abandoned german shepherd and Polly one day came home with a rat in his mouth as offering and my father punished him and he walked away never to return. That was the year Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas and I stayed home for three days watching it on our small black and white RCA Victor TV - a few months later in February '64 we saw the Beatles and then it all began to change. I went to high school and my father opened his own barber shop on Kilborne Avenue and we moved into the first house he ever bought... It was in '64 when I discovered the Rolling Stones and bought my first guitar. I also wrote my first poems and songs and joined the astronomy club in Hillcrest High and broke my wrist playing my first game of rugby (never to again) and also formed a sort of band with Carsten Sorenson on Drums, Brian Arvisais and myself on guitar. We played the Stones excruciatingly bad. I made a tape and had it till a few years ago and maybe still do but moving loses things and I've lost several lifetimes over the years... Those were good times. My father complained a lot about the Beatles ruining his business but his shop was the best in town. The CDS went to him and one day a corporal came in as the four star general was getting his haircut and his coat was covered by another inter coat and he sat in the next chair noticing that since he was next to another soldier began to badmouth the CDS talking about how he could do things better. Just then the CDS got up and as the soldier went into rigid mode the general tapped him on the shoulder and said, "I'll meet you outside." That corporal had two shaves and a head massage while the general waited outside in his limousine; it was 21 below in the old Fahrenheit measure but the General held the corporal for half an hour at attention while he had a word with him. My father said the next time he saw the corporal he was a private. After that they posted two soldiers at my father's shop because of the October crisis and I remember how angry my father was because it kept out his "regulars" and only the politicians still came. But what my father was most proud of was that The Prime Minister's wife brought her sons for a trim each month watching from the limousine across the street while Jean Chretien brought them in one by one but never had a haircut there himself. Several years later my father was offered the job on Parliament Hill but turned it down; he wanted to retire and so he did in '77. In '83 my mother called and said he was ill. We took him to the hospital; they discovered an incurable condition, operated, and sent him home. We had him over for Christmas. The last photograph has him gaunt and pale with Rex his German Shepherd's head on his lap. A month before he died he wanted to drive his car one more time and we drove a few blocks but he had to stop on the side of the road... he was just too weak. January claimed his soul. He'd led a good life. He knew what he was doing. If only his son would know the same. Klaus J. Gerken 5 April 2004 A47 WHY BOW UP? ~~~~~~~~~~ So why does a woman want to be with "this guy"? What chemical instincts perforate her insecurity? She walks with him; he ignores her. She captures the door he slams in her face. Yet she "loves him," he's "everything a woman could want." And all the while the universe opens up like a lotus petal and says, "I'm toxic waste for lovers non committed." And no one shoves a cent behind closed doors and scratched floors for treasure they have never met. 5 April 5:56 pm by my computer while my cat munches seafood and I drink my chardonnay... A48 Darkness ~~~~~~~~ Found this blind guy one day tapping his cane on the inside of an outdoor restaurant enclosure among the piled up chairs and tables in the midst of a wild winter on the wrong side of the fence and as any decent person would guided him out the maze and pointing him in the right direction he went on his way... "I need no help," he said but thanked me anyway... 7 April 2004 A49 The Pity Poem ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So pain tells me i'm alive well be I'd rather walk normal and go back to my boring job at the cubicle prison or would I? 5 years to retirement and I'm this depressed Too late to change jobs just have to take it no choice one more glass of wine maybe that will knock me out for the night it's alright I'll survive always have took the third week off the third week third day? nothing like it no pity here complete your income tax give your money away to stinking rats and hope the pain goes away and you can walk again and return to work refreshed with a different attitude obviously not everything happens as we would see fit guess if i had a cause the pain wouldn't matter but as it is a cubicle prison should be no one's life... I have better dreams to die for... unfortunately it's the only one I can in reality retire from... 5 more years... deal with it. 12 April 2004 A50 my cat's in the closet shredding a plastic bag wish I could shred what I do not have... 12 April 2004 A51 long walks at night to dull the pain the girls on Gladstone need some company want some sex tonight i only smile and walk on by not tonight i say and they target the next car or sometimes argue with their pimp interesting times at 4am on a blacked-out street limping Quasimodo through the hollow caverns wanting peace but getting none 12 April 2004 A52 THE CATMAN OF PARLIAMENT HILL ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I hate snow he said standing in the compound with a broom while the cats scurried away and the flaky snow falling all around I hate snow he said the man who takes time every day to take care of the nation's cats the man who many years ago made a promise to an old woman many considered eccentric and would have nothing to do with and on her deathbed she asked her friend to take over the task of caring for the strays on Parliament Hill and so he did thinking it wouldn't last and someone else would take over sooner or later...later even after he went and fed the menagerie on the day of his beloved wife's funeral he keeps doing it he keeps on like a soldier on a great mission he feeds them every day and even though there are others who now help it is his vision and humanity which inspires everyone... The Catman of the Hill and what a ragtag of derelicts this survivor keeps together There's Big Mama I call Vincent a calico with only one ear the other lost to frostbite years ago in one of those punishing winters which happens in Ottawa almost every second year Then there was Blanchette (aka Mimi) a white orange tabby and Big Mama's daughter with the most amazing disposition and trust (she once slept on my lap for three full hours never even batting an eyelash when two large dobermans barked at her She trusted me and when asked wanna go for a walk she and Vincent came along sometimes around the Hill and I always brought them back While Vincent always ran to sit on my lap Mimi always took her time and both played a little game where each would push the other off my lap until that weekend after Canada Day when I ... she didn't come and we never saw her again at first I thought she might be kidnapped but photographs reveal she might have been ill and we all missed it After that Vincent went into a deep depression and for over six months I almost had to hand feed her and all that time she never once sat on my lap And then there is Brownie (Goldie in my book) a large orange tabby and Mimi's son at 9 kilos twice the size of any other cat on the Hill big stud who used to sit on the waste basket next the bench where I sat with his mother on my lap and the look in his eyes "whatcha doing with my ma" permeated everything... Once a woman brought her little girl and she ran up to the fence and the first cat she saw was the big guy and she looked up at her mommy..mommy mommy is that a mountain lion? and her mother explained no dear that's a cat No she said No mommy that can't be a cat Cats are smaller than me...I will never forget the look on the mother's face so much magic on the hill Brownie's best friend was Fluffy---black and white and fur which made him look bigger than Brownie but skinny as a stick once you stroked him but one of the most affectionate and one of the first to run to me when I come on weekends to feed them 7am Bruno Interruption ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++6 333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333 33333333333333333333 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 00 00000000000000000000 30303333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333+++ 3 --- End of Bruno interruption He always let out a purr where Blackie another black and white but short haired would give out a big meow I have this favorite picture where Rene is sitting on the bench in autumn contemplating his magnificent work with Blackie next to him And there are so many others: the four polydactyl whites who only appear in winter and Koko, a yellow tabby who's the oldest...ad Princess another yellow tabby but as Koko keeps to himself Princess is always under people's feet...and then there's Bebe the youngest the most rambunctious chasing pigeons and squirrels once she even caught one and dragged it into one of the cubicles and after an hour sitting on it let it go These cats so gentle they don't kill getting along and sharing their food with rabbits squirrels, raccoons, groundhogs and birds...I always say each politician on the Hill should be required to come there and spend some time and learn the art of nature's harmony...but they hardly ever do I think Manley walked by one morning before he accepted the Finance portfolio but he and an aide just walked by as if the sanctuary never existed Funny how that works thousands of tourists from the states europe and asia come just to see the cats and they always ask about Rene and they always wonder how some place so sacred could exist in the world and yet there's the NCC the National Capital Commission as the most useless tier of city government that tears down heritage buildings to erect sterile condominiums for the "upper class" and here they argue and attempt to get rid of these "feral" cats to get rid of a rich tradition which attracts thousands of tourists every year and which seems they find a great embarrassment But that's nothing new the city seems to be ashamed of its history as a lumber town so get rid of anything which reminds them we are anything other than the Capital of Canada and never had an existence before... My favorite "Mouser" story is that when the cats were brought to Parliament Hill in the early 19th Century to arrest the rat population they did such a good job they chased all the rats into the Parliament Buildings and that's where they remain to this day... The "Catman" shows up each day at 1 pm He doesn't walk through the stately Parliamentary gates but hops the Parliamentary fence after he get off the bus with his gym bag of home prepared cat food and at 83 he hops the fence like an athlete and even I at my relatively young age can't keep up with him a face of leather and a smile of a bodhisattva only very few have lived that life never missed a day he proudly states...and he should be proud and the sin of "pride" and the bible can never apply to a "pride" as this a "pride" not selfish but unselfish to a degree very few humans can attain and yet there are those who would fault him for it...these are my cats he says... yet they belong to everyone...and he is the one who has given a great part of his life to them survivor among survivors...yet the government will not bestow its highest order to him because it's for a service to fellow humans "not to animals"...how can we be better humans is all I ask if we cannot care for our fellow forms of life...fellow beings on this planet? how can we engage different life forms from other planets when we cannot form an equal affection for our own... One winter someone abandoned a calico tuxedo bibb and at first the Catman he chased him away and slowly over the year we named him Bruno and after six or so months after observing me from the many vantages the hill affords he came to me and I gave him food and he allowed me to stroke him After that he was always there Brian and I put him in a cage one day in November but he escaped...we wanted to get him his shots and get him "fixed" so he would fit in with the colony but by the spring it was obvious that at least he and Blackie were at odds and so I took him home... adapting he took over and now runs the place...tourists still ask where Bruno is and I have to reassure them he's ok.. And then there are the tourists busloads of 'em they come to see the "fat cats of Parliament Hill" no matter what country they are from they want to see the cats and Rene and the seat of Canada's Officialdom is secondary and sometimes "Parliament Hill is dull except for this..." "nothing in the world compares..." "how can anyone not love these cats" in a summer you can't get near And as Rene plays to the crowd so do the cats basking in the sun or jumping on someone's lap It's a wonder on this earth that a place like this exists I tell Heather "A Holy Place" and she agrees and I know the tourists do and now Bruno's here with me in a confined apartment happy no cold winter nips his ears... but yet the freedom of these cats is the freedom of a country which respects the rights of its people and if the cats should ever go desert the Sacred Hill I will desert the country and the hill and never again believe this country great and never again believe in law and liberty and truth and good and only shake my head in the disillusionment of hope... let the holy place survive the cats gather our humanity into a fluffy fur-ball and gag at our empty commitments let's clean up our act make the kittens proud make us into human beings not the beasts we have become... (more wine... ) Apr 13 - 16 June 2004 A53 55 ~~ Heading into 55 with osteoarthritis one bad knee doctor's confirmation boss's agitation 3 weeks off now but gettin' better and today just mighty fine weather so why complain new drugs and physio to keep me poor but just read Nashe and Greene and had I lived then I'd be sitting in the gutter of some Elizabethan slum begging with no painkillers and ticks to keep me company but on the other side if I lived then I wouldn't have lived so long like this without a crutch and the bright sun shining wishing me well when I turn 55 and send some wine my doctor hates for me to drink (never take the man's advise anyway) after all my mother always said it's only worth it if you have a goal and if you think you've left enough behind to sustain your memory let go no need to make an ass of yourself wanting to be young again after you get old. 1:02pm 15 Apr 2004 A54 My Cat's OK ~~~~~~~~~~~ my cat's ok he scratches every day ain't got no fleas always likes to play my cat's ok watches for the door eats like fickle pete tries to make me poor my cat's ok wants his tummy rubbed scratches up my hand and loves the bathroom tub my cat's ok sleeps with me at night wakes me up at three a.m. and purrs like dynamite. 16 Apr 2004 A55 it's 10pm Bruno's curled up on my couch asleep i'm finishing up the last of the Montepulciano d'Abruzzo and watching the Davis's cup of pool: the (i forget) usa leading 5-4 in the 17th round...some great shots want to see the rest but getting rather tired now after a long day leg's a bit better arthritis or not i'm going back to work on Monday and something's got to give five years to retirement and i can't let anything upset me now just go with it let the water pass by and lay about on the edge of the river fishing it hasn't been easy the past year and i suspect the next won't be any less palatable so it's me who's got to change the corporate mentality refuses to co-operate it always will can't change it from without can't change it from within but still i have my poetry my magazine my art music vision i have something beyond this corporate mentality which tries to bring me down others have nothing family or friends ok that's important maybe I have nothing sacrificing everything for "artistic integrity" never asking why just something I had to do damn commercials and news interrupts the championship eye lids falling shut can't drink the last glass want to go to sleep nothing seems alright 17 April 2004 A56 MARS ~~~~ there's so little left stone cold mountains in the wilderness no hyacinths no plastic honeycombs just sterile indivisibility dust that clings to everything and what we brush away is the horizon russet purple pink and fades to black I stare at my inactive TV screen and brush a fly aside life is everywhere upon this planet a fungus on the face of Gaia they search for water I search for faith the human condition notwithstanding life is ours to give 23 April 2004 A57 KOAN ~~~~ when I'm 68 (or many years older) I'll deal with second rate news for now I'm young at heart and no one diverts me from my personal agenda I was two years old and the coin refused thrown back no one was amused I laughed and laughed and laughed my future was assured why should I look back? 23 April 2004 A58 Travel ~~~~~~ What voyage does not challenge the appeal? 26 April 2004 5:01pm A59 I just wrote a poem all will hate. Glad I added to the stale debate. 26 Apr 2004 6:08pm A60 8.71 you make my life so easy wish though i wouldn't feel so queasy the money's important wouldn't buy a decent wine or cat food I don't predicate so what you do with all my money after all I get some back guess I shouldn't be so critical after all, you give me none artistic endeavor not allowed a poet must make money maybe just lose money but at least he tries and you give money where no one gives a fuck for you there is no luck i just say fuck off leave my mag alone one day it will follow stars a diamond in the rough and you won't know how to cut it... all I want is some better cat food! Bruno's observation (meow...27/4/2004) A61 Ultimate Loss ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I just let a poem go I will never think again Promise me forever isn't such a pain. 29 Apr 04 A62 La Boheme ~~~~~~~~~ She died in my arms As I died in hers Lovers eternal Pearls upon pearls She shadowed me holy I did not agree The body is perfect The willow is free How you resurrect me She said with a glee I don't give a damn I just disagree... At Sodom Gomorrah No one looked back The present is danger The past is just luck I see where you're going I'd rather not lead Your pessimism haunts me A Bishop's must plead... And yet we are solid As are planks on a ship Floating forever On a desperate trip The sky far above us The magma below Hot heaving of mountains The valleys of growth I reach out my finger Like Adam to God I cannot find thunder Some find that so odd You smile in the mirror There's a fly on your tooth I would surrender a meaning But age presses youth And no one would want it I cannot explain You haunt my religion The truth is fair game So brand me too silly Brand me a fool The painting remembered And the canvas was cool So if you get plenty Have heart for the poor You may wish for high heaven But mortality's sure. 2 May 2004 A63 Rainy day Dark moods Cat's asleep on sofa Last bottle wine Beverly Hillbillies on TV Trying to gather up my prescription receipts so I can get 10 bucks back on every hundred paid One more legal scam corporations get away with Hate to think five years ahead when I retire At least won't have any debts and enough to keep me busy novels poems plays to write Maybe buy a new guitar and write some songs or paint again giant canvasses that will clutter up by then my bachelor apartment one room focused mind and very little furniture living the life of an artist poor eccentric and alone hunting down the perfect vision like an old Ulysses hoping to get home again in one piece and along the way gathering experience only poets can express when the journey nears completion retroactively expressed with hopefully a bit of wisdom and no regrets and presumably at least one other person for an audience. 12:44 2 May 2004 A64 AGING ~~~~~ pain does not suffer pain life suffers pain death does not suffer death life suffers death and whoever suffers life suffers pain is beholden to the universe like a shooting star no one hides where hills divide a valley - because from the valley you can see the hills and from the hills you can see the valley but unless there are trees and shrubbery we cannot hide mortality from age. 11:30 am 3 May 2004 A65 POET'S COCKTAIL ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 20 mg Bextra Valdecoxib One good breakfast (which made me sick) 6 8 oz glasses of red Charamba Douro 2000 and two Tylenol extra strength and I still cannot walk with any conviction or without the pain of grave mortality Like a drunk beggar I hobble from room to room and my cat wants to play with a broken record and no phonograph. 11:35am 3 May 2004 A66 Umbrella ~~~~~~~~ When you try to pressure me into existence You try to pressure me into your existence I exist Enter On the lintel the epitaph Know you will not leave the same way you came Do not pressure anyone Your view is an umbrella You can open or hold close You can keep out rain or sun You can shelter others When you are there others will be there Offer your umbrella Offer your shelter Exist They will enter And on the lintel read the welcome I will let you leave To get your own umbrella To share with someone else... 11:44am 3 May 2004 A67 My Mind ~~~~~~~ Before my computer I sit And type on a black screen This mahogany desk wobbles And there are scraps of paper Everywhere Everywhere Everywhere Like on a garbage island Dig deep for scraps of life Discarded 11:52am 3 May 2004 A68 Koan ~~~~ She thought she was a hollow shell Where I saw substance We never spoke again 11:58am 3 May 2004 A69 Koan ~~~~ You ask me why are my words so simple I ask you why are they so difficult For you to understand? 12:03pm 3 May 2004 A70 what was gained and Canada lost (the devil broke his water) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ok nostalgic as hell Cuxhaven music\accordions dark black north sea fog streetlamps and hookers and drunken sailors and I was a little kid can't blame me the street and hotel across the street from our loft was heaven to me out of a cheap novel and everyone smiled and the voices were many we spoke in tongues and we frolicked freely and we knew instinctively where the boundaries were we were free and we knew the law was what we wanted it to be because the law was us and we left our doors open and our kids were safe and we weren't afraid to teach bullied kids to beat up bullies and each cop was a friend and each whore your aunt a time of no regrets and such a time will never come again and that I will regret forever Canada you have much to learn you are in your infancy give yourself a thousand years and you will shed the acorn of your soul and populate the universe I am just a poet can't do much but then again a letter in the paper made them rid the Hill of tin plated monstrosities how little you know of love and hate and jealousy and how little life pervades your pores law rules over justice and you haven't thought there's room for improvement where other lands have met a true humanity...but who am I to criticize? I point and click and somehow words appear upon the radar screen of reality your judges can't believe might even stain their marble walls and tell them they are wrong well not always but at least once in a while - but I don't walk on water...maybe walk on wood and splash into the wonderful polluted radiance of politics...I'm a simple poet knowing nothing less that what I see observe upon and fold into a pamphlet no one reads... smile....smile because I know the truth smile....smile because you will never see again these written words these songs and these memories only I will know pretending I have had something to say when knowing I have not... poet laureate give us another song irrelevant... I will laugh in Hell... 5:21p 3 May 2004 A71 Compromise ~~~~~~~~~~ You refuse my stupidity I refuse your wisdom Even We make love 2:56pm 4 May 2004 A72 Before Sex ~~~~~~~~~~ for Nissa Before sex I wrote a book on paleontology I was ten years old I remember nothing after that... 3pm (precisely) 4 May 2004 TIC A73 Cherished ~~~~~~~~~ In great pain I laugh knowing friends like you offer no complaint... 3:02 pm 4 May 2004 A74 Bureaucracy and life ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I drive my cat silly limping around the house he thinks my make-shift cane's a toy (it's an old putter my cat got rid of all the golf balls played with then discarded...I can't find them anywhere) but still humps and hides and thinks I am a gaul but purrs when I get close and wants his tummy rubbed We make a great pair abandoned I adopted him abandoned he adopted me we keep each other company Yet too many are alone and their hearts are tough as boot leather and no one wants to say anything... They plead please re-elect me I have a sign please re-elect me some day I'll make up my mind sad situation bureaucracy stalls... 3:13pm 4 May 2004 A75 Bureaucracy ~~~~~~~~~~~ everything collapses where they oil the fields with power no one escapes and no one is commended for the work they did the whip these days is cubicles and anonymity rat mazes no one can decipher and a boss who's not responsible for anything there's always a higher unknown entity democracy they say is ultimately the responsibility of the unknown individual who elected the unknown representatives so no one is responsible for any actions that interact with anyone we can't help you and you cannot help yourself you've dictated that by electing us I say smile with your rotting teeth in the mirror and lick up the toothpaste thereon... 3:43pm 4 May 2004 A76 The Drugs Don't Work ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ i want to get up i want to get up i want to get up my leg says attack muscles tense up and my mind fears the pain and all the yoga crap I learned dries up nothing moves me mind over matter's just so much shit i just sit steady as she goes grab the putter so much for a cane steady yourself leg's in so much pain hardly wants to move but damn it MOVE slow excruciating step and you've got to urinate so bad and the can's a mile away I wonder how they did it without drugs? 4:07pm 4 May 2004 A77 History and Now ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ she does it for money she won't do it for love she's the fallen angel Gabriel loved and I will not condemn her her Eden is safe no Adam to force her to trust a poor snake and Moses was grounded pulverized Lot and Lot was the savior Moses was not so how to explain this I can't - h'bout a kiss? 5:26pm 4 May 2004 A78 Politics ~~~~~~~~ Those who shoulder grave responsibilities cannot tell the truth because the truth is open to all and cannot be suppressed therefore: no democracy because the multitude cannot govern but by one 7:46am 5 May 2004 A79 Reaching out ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Is it failure in the audience or failure in the poet when no one understands the message? When does one acquiesce to them and when does one shut up explaining nothing letting rot develop? When does one decide enough is enough and the message is only for the poet who scribbles for his own amusement? When does the poet ever compromise the perjuries he tells as much as anyone? Where is the hope he wants and no one else believes in? The poet hobbles with his cane and rubs against the soul of the universe and the stench of money brings him down again... 5:23pm 6 May 2004 A80 Flavor of the moment ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ be quiet let the curtains fall into the breeze of imperfection there cannot be a compromise where the sun explodes red cranberries in a silver cup 5:29pm 6 May 2004 A81 We are what we eat ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The widow was a smiling porpoise that the future sunk its teeth into Broken shadows wave of movement no one dared to say "I knew" The glass encased us like a winter in prophylactic heat A bold cocoon and like a condom witnessed our retreat The widow came consuming iron The cripple shat upon her feet No one greeted their arrival No one wept at their defeat And the smiling porpoise spat a fur ball onto the most desirable meat. 5:45pm 6 May 2004 A82 Done ~~~~ I have written so many poems The fun will be to find them all. 5:50pm 6 May 2004 A83 SONG ~~~~ A car sinks in the harbor The driver swims to shore The audience applauds the rescue The cops throw pennies to the poor And Maria shows her beef cake And Horace locks the door And no one is more friendly Than the priest who is not pure There's Virgil in the alley He's got Molly on the brain But she just wants an implant And he can't find the drain He's willing to surrender But there's nothing left to gain When the alley is great housing Even drugs won't dull the pain And Sally sometime hooker Blows someone in the dark She's a student of commitment And a chronicler of parks Says she's proud to be of service And the woman makes her mark Fifty clients have diseases And the others are just sharks So should I have a moral Should I have great words to say Should their lives become a teacher Or should we all just walk away The police have no solution And Virgil dies each day Sally she delivers And the priest bends boys to pray Do you see where this is going Do you see where this has been Do you see the fires glowing Do you see what they have seen I sing this song for justice I sing this song for beans I sing this song for breakfast I sing for their lost dreams 7:07pm 6 May 2004 A84 Accountability Or How democracy impacts the workplace ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Your boss hides behind the director The director hides behind the director general The director general hides behind the general The general hides behind the vice chief of defense staff The vcds hides behind the chief of defense staff The cds hides behind the deputy minister The dm hides behind the minister The minister hides behind the prime minister And the prime minister says it's all the fault Of the public who elected the government So if you want a change don't vote for us in the next election And by the way if you didn't vote for us you have nothing to say about it anyway 6:53am 7 May 2004 A85 take care of the kids/take care of the future ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ da boyz dont matter da girls dont care dares revolution in da air and the old folks vanish when dares no one left and da young know nuthin and da old know less so why do we offer books to read tv's better and so's cds I wish the present could provide a lead. 4:11pm 7 may 2004 A86 Walking with a cane ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ On my first public walk with my new black cane a man shouted to me "must be painful" I just nodded a few blocks later a youth yelled to his friend "look at the old guy with the cane" I was going to say something but thought better of it a little later a woman crossed to the other side of the street so she wouldn't have to look into my eyes you could see it a block away Fortunately those who knew me asked politely and understood "Got that problem too" or "Hope you get better soon" but limping home I though this is going to take some time so why not enjoy the walk don't matter how stiff the leg or sore the knee I notice things I never noticed before the way the buds grew newly on the trees and how fresh the sky was glowing in this spring or how the shadows on a building wall enhanced its architecture and made the paint stand out as if a dull street was infused with color And I wondered why with all the trepidation at work I succumbed to stress and high blood pressure and why everything had to be done immediately when no life hung in the balance...things get done I thought things get done no matter if it's today or tomorrow...and life goes on and history records only the overtones not the small reflections in a pond We are all living an illusion we don't have in life...life is a grander scheme than just pushing paper or punching keys on a computer keyboard Slow down I said Slow down The sun does not rise any faster or the moon set any slower if so and so doesn't get his report on time...meetings can be postponed...and no one loses anything the work I do is not a profit industry it's individuals pushing other individuals it's a power game...otherwise they would have to admit no one ultimately has any real power just perceived deception And here I hobble home having been told to get back to work or "else" after 24 years of service ("servitium" the motto states, "slavery" my Latin dictionary reads) they "cut no one slack" and I just smile and the sun smiles and the shadows smile and someone calls out to me "I like the cane, makes you look distinguished" and I nod like anyone disabled must taking back the universe. 8:00pm 9 May 2004 A87 Walking with a cane II ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I used to run to catch the light Now I walk to catch the pause. 7:47am 11 May 2004 A88 Walking with a cane III ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I meet myself at a busy street corner What's this I say It's a cane A cane? What for? Osteoarthritis A woman's disease Not necessarily Always had a bad knee Not your fault So why the cane? Need something to help me walk Sounds severe Gets pretty bad at times Miss any work? Yeah three weeks off and on They get pretty pissed Why not take LTD? Thought about it So? Pension So that'll still be around when you get to 65 Money then... So you live in poverty Take the system for all you can get Can't do that Why not? Others do... I have my integrity Bah, you waste your time in a cubicle, in a job you no longer enjoy and you want integrity? You don't owe them anything They pay me You're a fool Maybe An Artist A human being So what's the problem? Finances... Can be overcome. Give in to them? I won't Stubborn as hell. In pain? Sometimes. The cane helps. Still walking. Never stop. Work? Presenteeism sucks. They would rather I be LTD. Why is that? Saves them pension. And your 24 years of service? Useless. Only their disordered chaotic present matters... What gets the boss promoted matters What's an employee anyway? Thousands younger waiting in the wings... Asked to work from home -denied - wasn't important enough They disbanded my section while I was away Gave me duties I don't really want but can manage Ripped my staff apart You seem bitter? Bitter? What's the use of bitter, eats more into mind and soul. Five more years and hopefully I retire with a healthy attitude and brain and write my Yorick tale of what's become of common decency and why "servitium" means not as they think "servitude" but "slavery" and that's what it's become Hitler's bureaucracy all over again and they are too stupid to realize they've crossed the threshold where democracy becomes dictatorship. Bitter then is it? Not al all. Reality. Look at all these people Each has an opinion Mine matters as little as anyone's We're useless if we can't stalk the coffers of the government Doesn't matter which one We just dig deeper in our pockets and come back with dirt And what's the while they spend it on themselves And say they have nothing left over for community for health care for anyone Bitter? I just hope I get my pension and have time left to write the truth I've been such a fool believing hard work pays off Death pays off (if you have insurance -- but then you need a lawyer to assure that) Life's "servitium" Slavery disguised as freedom Giving you everything is just as bad as denying everything That's called democracy I don't know (in retrospect) what communism was all about puff of smoke in some dictator's pipe how dictators are disguised today Julius Caesar was right Deny deny deny and they will give you everything End 14 may 2004 -- 12:44pm A89 To any government ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I want a simple song life and leisure pleasure happiness I don't want politics cancer or disease I just want healthy parents happy children no domestic violence I want to sleep good at night with dreams that take me through the universe and safely back again reaffirming that there's something more than government that the common person's still a decent rake with impish possibilities but nothing like the criminal police decide is desirous of grave punishment. So what's wrong with this painting?--- why does the government interfere with the common folk? Why not let us live as we desire protect us from violence, murder, disease, and transgression; that's the job of government. Regulating morality is not your job. I want to raise my kids to my ideals. Not yours. The common denominator is too low and you shouldn't be able to force me to accept a lesser ideal because statistics lump us all together. That's sick. And I won't talk about your wars, your forked tongue and lies. The only reason today to have children is to hope they evolve beyond your contempt and bring new hope for a dismal future. You will scoff at this just as a grizzly scoffs at a gun and still attacks... one more rug gaped on the floor and that's what you will become growing increasing deaf to what you never heard or maybe just ignored... If I get the chance to stand on your grave I'll kiss the white rose and put it on another grave; in the final solution you don't even deserve a dying rose... 14 May 2004 1:02pm A90 Moment ~~~~~~ The little guy's asleep in his hammock and the Stones are on my PC speakers early Stones and it's 27 Celsius I've just about completed my magnum of Entre-Lacs Dry White wine and recharged my Digital Camera's batteries but then the camera's broke and will not focus properly no money to take it in probably cost less to buy a new one than get this one repaired besides, it's hard to take photographs when one's stumbling with a cane over difficult terrain but then I hardly take my walks anymore (too much hassle) just simply disagree with everything and hope the weekend blossom doesn't wilt before I get my act together... 1:48pm 14 May 2004 A91 Rank and File ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So GOD decided to be JESUS and die upon a cross to tell us HE was alive and we would have no life lost when we've died and gone to HEAVEN 0 MERCY give us pause The failure cannot be as stupid as it appears to be Judas with his designated kiss Peter with his posed denial And Jesus/James/Barabbas (the son of his father) the title Jesus would espouse...and who gave up his blood...no one knew until Roman Paul stepped on the stage Roman Paul...Misogynist... Hater of everything real except for his CHRIST JESUS 30 years after the event...he knew everything and built a church...institution manipulative money laundering society of apes for a "savior" who either never lived or else never sanctioned future politics however bright the coffers be model Jesus never lived just as Shakespeare's Hamlet wasn't there obviously he seemed a simple man to influence so many others but simple men influence no one Jesus was what he appeared a royal crown...pretender to the thrown of David...and that was his appeal and that was his demise Herod couldn't have a crown split two ways and Jesus paid the price to gather Roman peace... hard to know the cause of things and this may all be wrong but I'm of my opinion and will provide you with a wooden plank where you will have to decide the truth what it means to them or what it means to us 2:21pm 14 May 2003 27C and very humid A92 What is my purpose in life? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ your mission is to be where you are sent... gather all the moments where you made a difference and gather your commitment to life... in the vastness of this universe only you are you and if just one micron makes a difference it might be yours and if god plays dice? he rolls a perfect ingenuity... no one is the savior and no one is the pawn each plays vaster bowling alleys and each rolls strikes and where the weather purples the teacher commits a nose and a rather vile servitude sneezes Bob Dylan and leaves a googlelated mess and high trekkies reverberate what heaven is about outside inside there's a field Hawking thinks is valid without purpose in a gaseous cloud Newton wasn't any better but put in the clock and somehow fed the apple to a worm he knew about understanding was a fractured mess as I write this I know nothing I have no calculus no gauge to mesmerize the populace I observe and do not calculate I think therefore i am and if honesty fails I beget a perfect politician and I am hopelessly besotted by a monster in disguise promising lies...praising lies and somehow they believed Hitler and somehow they still believe whoever doesn't represent them they just nod and carefully convene a moment of residual desperation dreams are not the purpose of their cause ...and as purpose "efforts" momentum Fool momentum stands upon the cliff of hope...no life-guards available only one last effort in the "willingness" to cope. Occam's razor-blade of effort wins a shallow prize..laughter doesn't have to be an alley or race hate laugher's the fertility we fought for and politicians took away... lies upon lies is not a lie when universally disguised as being of another, and another's cause is breakfast where another starves do we know where the division ends we know and we know not we know divisively and know no honesty and cringe where retribution ends a finger wasn't lifted and we broke a leg and as Hitler was the savior the savior wasn't there when scouring garbage cans never know the "watchers" aren't there - they watch you everywhere one camera one eye one presumption and you are a criminal...no one will defend your innocence your plight has been decided by a state that wills no one defending human rights one man hanged...shrug your shoulders the sun hangs desperately bright 8:26 19 May 3004 A93 Flute Thing ~~~~~~~~~~~ for Layla Roberts Layla's moving. No more will she be practicing her gentle flute when I come home from a hard day's dull day's work I don't know what to say she has been a treasure to me even my cat's been in the cradle of her arms and being so much older younger would have been the cause of our togetherness where the mountains rise and form a barrier such a future she will carve for herself as each year my demise hopefully gives thought to those who will or cannot listen and maybe some will think life is a responsibility not a cause and not a fear given life if something that must be welcome no garlands for the dead soldiers of remembrance but children dancing on the grave of one dead soldier giving life to one more smile we must resurrect in the wake of plebiscites and indictments and councils for the cause of desperate denials you do not own me we shout from every tower or so we should -- the many cower in the alley of the past for comfort they have known why should we commiserate isolation teaches everything the vocal raise the stakes but the monk is not just given solitude but daily roasts upon the grille but then I forget what this is all about I gather old arthritis and a cloud which fogs my memory...nothing saves the smile now thought derogatory gives no grace no cause and grace accepts a harmony where no one can be found...but why be found lost cause where locus raids the fields and little matters if the officer's demoted now the tombs will still be carved and succession is assured and I hear the soft strands of Mozart interpreted through Layla's playing down the hall and could be miles away another dimension another world another revelation cleanses wounds and makes old men young again if only for a moment to forget the gathering of storm clouds on a vast horizon and in another week there will be no transcendent strands of music and the building will be empty and my cloister will be silent with only dust upon the books I hardly ever open anymore and I will close my eyes world wearying hearing some ghostly sounds down the hall knowing there's a soul out there who made a difference dissipating loneliness... 25 May 2004 - 3:07pm A94 The World as it is ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I was walking along Just singing this song When a man disappeared In a mountain of tears And a woman reclined In a heap of cold lies And the sun up above And the moon in the clouds And a voice laughs out laud Where no voice should be proud There's the world as it is Just betrayed with a kiss I don't know about you But my shoes are not new And we're walking along Pebbled roads that are wrong With a horizon of dirt Where the sheriff is hurt And the eagle is perched On a mine giving birth To a flag and a mole Where a river once flowed And an empire dries up On a mountain of scrap But I don't know what's true There's too much we accrue And the world as it is Is a dangerous cliff Where the minarets fall And the profit is split Between having it all Or a cave in Tibet You can't tell me it's right And the moon on the clouds Forms a murderous shroud Resurrected throughout Where the winds blow about And the world as it is Blows a crater that is Filled with innocent blood Where the two leaders stood I refuse to accept I refuse to accept I refuse to accept Their bloody concept Of terror and strife And hatred for life Where no reason upholds Wisdom's search for a soul So I'm walking along Just singing this song When the sky disappears And Olympus is near And the gods ever laugh At the mess we have wrought I must question the thought Who is morally shot Is it them could be us And if you're cruising the road Don't get hit by a toad In the world as it is I blow the 'savior' a kiss And offer my shoes For the world to get through What about you? What about you? * 26 May 2004 - 2am? Written in a dream when my cat woke me up and I wrote it down. A95 Hold the Tanks/Save a life... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was not the man who stood before the tank At Tianemen square Who should be the hero But the commander of the tank Who stopped And didn't drive him down Like so many others At Tianamen Were lost to little conscience. 4 June 2004 A96 one more memory to hate ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the accordion screams memories had I one I'd let it rust like so many other perfect instruments no one should have to listen twice to what hurts the most 5.02 54 June 2004 A97 APICIUS ~~~~~~~ once you die your body rots and the flavor of your life was food and whatever else will be remembered is superfluous 29 May 2004 5:07pm A98 Silence ~~~~~~~ * * Every day A99 This is our reality ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTVWXYZ 1234567890 7:37AM 5 MAY 2004 All poems copyright (c) 2004 Klaus J. Gerken Published by Ygdrasil Press 2004