THE POISON AND THE ASP Poems by Klaus J. Gerken 1992 There are the argument and then there are the ideals. The arguments refute a plastic handicap; the ideals grant absolution. Now go down, down into the shadows, down into the ulterior motive Freud has never dared explain. Upon my wall there is a painting * Early morning Shallow sky Wake up frog! * Wake up, wake up Sleepy head The garden grows! * Minnow meteor beats across the sky in waves. * Blocks of sunlight diffuse upon the wall of hope. * I don't know I just don't know Crabapple red? * Time ticks demurely on a rock. * Boredom itches. * Voyage of discovery: Do the dishes first! * I dream of journeys to a land that no one has discovered: I dream of being me. * I wanted so to love you You said you didn't need a man That's a fine line lady Between the holy and the damned. * I drank 200 dollars worth of wine tonight I drank the finest wines alone I asked a very beautiful lady to accompany me She said she didn't drink...pity. * Such a fabulous album Andy White is perfect. * I was in a bar, you looked at me: How come we close our eyes in bed? * Frozen memories Paragons of lie Swept beneath the carpet. * Distant friends communicate with the passion of a summer breeze staying young forever. * to J.J. You kept me from myself I loved you like the autumn In a young man's heart. * And so we flew to Shannon And Ireland was as green as grass - And many years later I loved a beautiful young woman named Shannon And many years later I grew weary of the past but wept at losing two dear friends. * Dried up roses on the mantle shelf By candlelight glowing, the good wine is spilled There's a face in the window, all that remains Of gold rings and diamonds, so little was gained The rain beats the city like a forty-night storm The rivers are flooded and the roses have thorns There's nothing but shadows where shadows are born And the curtain is torn... The room is so empty that the chill casts a stone The brutal perception: a child lost alone The sky is on fire, the room is too hot The telephone rings chilly - to answer, or not? The wind is so hollow, the music collects The scars of commitment, where commitment is blessed By the one's who are homesick, by the one's who are torn Between the lonely living, and the hopeless in death's storm And the curtain is torn... * Walls Brick walls everywhere Office dividers Points of view Different records Music painting poems Different clothes Different status symbols (Different snobs) "My wine is better'n yours" Children at play Playing just playing THIS adult And growing up Build brick Walls - Between the shadow And the sun Between the woman And the man Between the father And his mother Between the wife And child Between the Sunday Sun And Sunday Times - It's all walls Walls Walls Walls When we tear one down (Walls between these "Civilized" communities) We are quick to build Another one (Apathy, Hate, Racism)... It only proves one thing: We are cowards. All of us! (And why not? The Hero's die...) Walls If you see a wall, It's futile Forget about tearing it down, Just take a crayon And scribble in your finest scrawl On it One word...Just a Word will do... What word? I leave that up to you... 11/11/92 * LISTENING TO THE MEKONS We were running through the woods Paint splattered jeans and soot Within clogged nostrils, we were good And pure and spotlessly unsure Of who we were and what we dreaded We were hooligans at a back stage door We were hooded monks, we were poor But rich in thought, we spiked our hair - We were disciples of the Mekons We were frowned upon, of course! We were running through the dark land We were free but captive. We were FREE. We were swollen, we were empty We were lovers under a dead moon. Luckily we did not explode Luckily we didn't have the baby. Silly, wise, abused and famous We were lost in Dante's Hell, appalled. We were Anarchy, we hated all Shoved into a corner, we came out poets, (Isn't life a ball?). * People are so happy When they think they're happy But they're not Begetting simplified solutions Begetting winter sun These people came undone People are so sad When they think they're sad But they're not Letting complicated sequences Build a wall around them Letting walls of hope abuse them People are so silly When they think they're silly But they're not The Devil understands them The gods with their minds obscure What they think they're fighting for People are patriotic When they think they're patriotic But they're not Like lost sailors on the ocean Longing for a home They hug any shore for even though it isn't home People are so diplomatic When they think they're diplomatic But they're not The shadow lies within them Their eyes and actions tell the tale When their lying fails People are so happy When they thin they're happy But they're not They run into the temple Splatter incense on their soul Their soul deserts them...fools! 11/11/92 * The power of darkness conquers us We argue all night on prayer mats We cover our wailing in a veil Of ecstasy and proper sex appeal The power of darkness conquers us We argue all night on prayer match We chant to the daemons in our mind We carry the stigmata of the cross We sweat beads of blood and cannot cough The Power of Darkness conquers us We cover our wailing with a veil The priest sprinkles holy water on our heads The air is heavy with decay A vision of something appears behind the high alter The power of darkness conquers us Ecstasy and proper sex appeal Heighten our senses and the nails Pound in our hands and feet releasing blood Into the silver chalice of our mind The power of darkness conquers us Upon our knees we sing praises to the lord Of comfort and self examining We lie prostrate on the cold marble floor We would lie to get into heaven, but we fail The power of darkness conquers us 11/11/92 * He sits in a bar in old Hamburg He waits for the darkness to appear He lives for the moment no one else thinks real He waits for the ships to come in He waits for the prostitute He waits by the harbour light He waits for the rats He is the Prince of Darkness And there's nothing that he lacks He is the Prince of Darkness And he carries off your soul Beware the Prince of Darkness He is a vampire in disguise He tells little children lie He sits in a bar in any city He waits for the darkness to appear You see him hunger in the alleys Or on the front lawn He is the Prince of Darkness And he gathers all the rats He is everyman He sells ice cream on the corner He sells heroin on the streets He sells cocaine in the hallways He haunts the schools for sex He is the Prince of Darkness Who is next... 11/11/92 * Schools out Time to play soccer Time to throw the lessons to the wind Time to run barefoot through the fields Time to give the girls a wink Time to build new bridges Time to tear some down Time to gather an adventure Time to drown in good times Time to drown Schools out Time to play baseball Time to forget about the teachers Time to feel free and fancy Time to stay out late Time to let the girls know that they're wanted Time to gather moments for a day Time to gather no commitment Time to gather no reprieve Time to drown in good times Time to drown in an ideal Schools out Time to play basketball Time to gather in the freedom Time to gather in the world Time to follow fads again Time to give the girls a whirl Time to build new bridges Time to tear some down Time to gather an adventure Time to drown in good times Time to drown 11/11/92 * Lady I have seen you first at church and in a veil You addressed my cause and spoke to me and said "I will", But not in words as any mortal could explain but perfect thought That only lights my heart beyond its weakness I have fought To transform to a duty thing, but yet it has become so weak That it is useless in my hands. And thus I beg your intercession, Which you have given freely as a nature thing, and something passion Cannot hold away. For you have given new life to a dying heart. A heart for so long I had given up for lost, upon the part A stranded sailor feels alone, surrounded by a fathom sea, You cannot know, my Lady, how your granting has appealed to me In this, that I could scarce believe you had a moments notice for a man That stands so distant from you, both in station and in word. A simple poet, yes, but one enamored in a beauty so supreme The gods in heaven fail to find the words to be so free to speak, So what can this poor mortal do, but bow, and kiss the ground beneath you feet? 11/11/92 * The bible told me to be good I found no inspiration in it I was young and maybe I was wrong But haven't found the time to get right in it It was early 67 My band was caught in an Ideal We Played the Beatles and the Stones to death And the Doors were just coming through door I was wild and I believed myself too real San Francisco bound but never got there The drugs and free Love and the wild guitars The Birds were singing Eight Miles High And I was plunging through it I read all the Tibetan Buddhist texts The bookstore would provide I wore my hair too long they said I told them I was taking them for a ride The parties never did stop And we hung on to everything John Lennon said We were young and school was lost to us I blew up the lab one day and held a Sit-in strike I was wild and I believed myself too real Brian played a Fender Base Carsten Played the drums I sang and somehow played some lead guitar And everybody danced along But the Summer of Love didn't last With the arrival of the first draft dodger They told of us tails of horror and repression We didn't believed until the Democratic Convention We stood in horror when in Ohio Seven youths were murdered And even Woodstock didn't change a thing I was there but hardly noticed I was wild and I believed myself so real I was flooded with a youthful vengeance I wanted the world and I wanted it NOW But the world had a different perspective And everybody else did too One day I disbanded the group And went back to school to be an artist It was 'cool' especially the Life class But I didn't last six months I painted like no other I was different from the rest I couldn't play the game I said You must, or else stop trying I was wild and I believed myself too real I was headed for a crush with death One night on a mescaline journey I tried to climb a cliff and fell I woke up in some woman's arms and didn't know how I got there I survived I survived I am older now so many years And somehow know within the bible All of this has been already written I can't say I believe in God Or devil or even in religion I can only say I read the book And I was a youth no longer I way wild and I believed myself too real I was a plastic entity devoid of life I was a robot in a tabloid time The rock I finally fastened to Was the rock of everybody's future. 11/11/92 * There were no flowers were they walked In mud and hollow trenches in the war. Far from home they waited for the news But the only news that came was "When will you Be Home?" And this no one could answer. With little sleep and hollow eyes they prayed For one full night of rest, without the whiz And whorl and pounding of the guns. and no one knew If this would be their last. It was the silence That they prayed for really scared them: It was The silence, For they knew the silence meant the end Of all their journeys. The end of coming home. The end of mud and war and the hoping somewhere Somehow someone would survive to tell their folk. 11/11/92 * You have given me so much And what you have given was so subtle That I hardly noticed How you changed my life In little ways Like the way I look at you And through you all the world Becomes a different place Flowers bloom on stranded rocks And the desert stands in harmony with God And I have been again when no one walks Among the truly blessed And all for what you've given me Your love and your concern Had I been this lucky when I was alive You would have surely been there at my side As it is I have murdered my own sanity And have come to you too late. 11/12/92 * NEW WORLD Christopher Columbus wrote back "This is Paradise" And took another step To make it Hell. 11/12/92 * I I was wounded, left for dead I was given vinegar and some stale bread I was living in a monastery When the silver dagger spoke to me: Silver in the mouth of full revenge Silver, Like a toothsome grin Black and broken I rebelled I was made a monk and given pride As the herald of my bride I was hung naked on a plastic cross I was given bones to chew on Bones discarded by a dog Then you came and like a wasted vision Glued me to the TV set What is this that you have sold I know I should have bled But my virginity was long delayed In some obscene and shredded magazine And the river of the Ottawa Flowed down to Champlain's denied Jerusalem Where the holy family resides In exile by the riverside Sometimes holy sometimes lost Sometimes stating over costs Sometimes only dodging bullets And sometimes beggars broken by their loss Madam says it's time to go While poets open up the show And lose themselves in the afterglow II I was fallen I was rained I was stood upon a pedestal and stuttered words I hardly knew myself were real The audience appealed I told them I was lonely Cross-eyed and on bended knees With a dagger lodged within my spine I was watching too much good TV I was drink too much wine I was listening to Leonard Cohen It was just as hard to follow lies I was looking out the window I saw a thousand ugly women Who thought that they were beautiful But it was just a mismanagement Manipulation by a man no less But as woman is by man manipulated So are men by women It is the perfect argument It can never ever stop I prayed that the illusion of an equal Society would vanish . none of it is true One usurps the other It was the case when Columbus Went to Africa and so it is in our Sacred Home America But I was sheltered I am common I was blond and blue and of the "master race" In another time I would have been a NAZI Now I'm just a peasant Taken on an empty journey Through a Madonna's world. III I was reading the paper drinking from the sacred chalice I was lost between the music and the catalogue of time I was processed in the bedroom I was one who dealt no aces - the eight of spades was fine I was separated by a hurricane and lived among the savages Of a strange and distant land These savages had no heads And their eyes were in their fingers I was suspect I was guilty And even God was on my side I laughed the day they hanged me I was still alive ALIVE I was left for dead and suffered every lost ideal I was found and saved by someone who could never have been real I was happy in my bedroom But the voice of conscience seemed a bit too clean She was like a turnip common but secure She was so intelligent refused to say a word Her wisdom was too saintly I crept into a cupboard and In the darkness cried Now she is a solvent and her conquest Is a glove I guess the future claims endeavors that can't be claimed by men (And God was silent. I suspect Sex was difficult for HIM). I was frozen I was normal I was plain I drink too little whiskey and the telephone just burns I said you were my sweetheart I sent you valentines When we made love that evening I merged you heart with mine Soft and soft and hard and hard and so we become murderers upon a desert island (You take this beach I'll take another) But I know that new discoveries Are much like table settings there is a certain set of rules for the rich and for the poor: And if I cannot comfort you Don't suffer me a whore... IV The queen pays taxes slowly and the third world's lost to aids and the west world of democracy is cooked in a separate pot altogether The Mekons sing of Fletcher Christian Andy White sings about James Joyce and the Chartres Cathedral it telling all those lies That the Ark in Ethiopia will one day claim the world And outside of my window A gentle pigeon coos The last of the dinosaurs the last of the "terrible lizards" Oh - is this not a wonder? Is this not what Columbus was after? Is this not better than a Jaguar? 100 glasses for the girl next door. 100 cheerleaders for the pizza parlor And the parish priest delivers... And the Rolling Stones rock on with a pint of scotch a day Ah they are so gullible While the rest can only pray. Copyright (c) 1992 Klaus J. Gerken Trying to be facetious I stumbled and I fell Got up again and bled a bit and Oh was so profound I took a right turn and I lost my way before the cross I argued with a princess and floated down the Seine I felt I was professional I was nothing of the kind The moon was black, the sun was red, the Devil had it all Expatiate or foreign aid, the beauty and the beast abound The light are blinking like a drunk - wherefore all this fuss? I head for home, the sea heaves high, I fluctuate again The mind is just a rusted gate, the keys no one can find The Yard is overgrown with weeds, the flowers twist in pain The graves are haunted by survivors - and nothing will ever be the same again. Copyright (c) 1992 Klaus J. Gerken