this paper is a poem
• Did we fall - Swami
X
• Peyote Poem - Stuart Z.
Perkoff
• And the day chases us - Suzy
Williams
• History Lesson - John
Haag
• Listen up - Pano
Douvos
• The Later Day
Transubstantiation of Blessed Oliver Cromwell - Fast
Eddie
• the song of the secret police -
Stuart Z. Perkoff
• The Lovers’
Tree - Vessy Mink
Did we fall, were we pushed off or did we
jump
Am I am that I am, a soul, a
heal or a chump
Is it reality, a dream,
a game if so who’s got the
trump?
Cleopatra whispered seductively
and mischievously
to Caesar “What I
love about Marc
and the camels is the
hump”
-Swami
X
*************
PEYOTE
POEM
By Stuart Z.
Perkoff
no wonder those
bones
white dry in
the
limitless
hot
space
lie
there.
they get
to.
***************
AND THE DAY CHASES
US
By Suzy Williams
I LIKE IT WHEN I WAKE
UP IN MY PINK ILLUSTRATIVE MIS-MATCHED RHINESTONE PAJAMAS AND GET TO TELL MY
LOVER MY DREAMS. LAST WEEK, MY SISTER JENNIE TOLD ME IN A DREAM (SHE OFTEN
STARS THERE) “DON’T LET’S CHASE THE DAY, LET THE DAY CHASE
US.” MY LOVER SAID (IN REAL LIFE) “THAT SOUNDS LIKE A POEM”
AND SO I STOP MY BIKE TO PINCH THE EVERGREENS AND DRINK IN THE SHARP SCENT THEY
GIVE UP , ON OAKWOOD, IN WINTER.
**************
HISTORY
LESSON
By John
Haag
That little ape that came down
from a tree
and used a stick on his
enemy
and called aloud to his
family
to show what a great brave ape was
he
made followers out of you and
me.
That little ape that got caught in
the rain
and used some branches to cover his
brain
and thought up gods for rain and for
tree
to explain away the
mystery
made worshippers out of you and
me.
That little ape that had more than
enough
and didn’t know what to do with
the stuff
and instead of handing it out for
free
put others to work for a
salary
made employees out of you and
me.
That little ape that schemed and
planned
and put a fence around some
land
and told his followers they’d be
free
if they fought his next-door
enemy
made soldiers out of you and
me.
That ape whose stick is his
bravery
whose ignorance makes
theology
whose avarice makes
wage-slavery
and makes a cause for
nationality
makes monkeys out of you and
me.
****************
Listen
up
By Pano
Douvos
OK Here’s the
drill
we’ll push democratic ideals
U.S. the model
provide economic game plan and
heavy hustlers
gain double-dip arms profits
and world control
Under the dollar-sign
banner we march
on the faith-based capitalist
crusade
push and squeeze emerging
nations
globalize by
gobbleizing
men, there’s raw
material for the taking
and cheap labor
everywhere so move
granted CEOs salaries are
somewhat obscene
and workers moan for wage
and health gains
soon we will provide
them economic relief
plentiful armed services
jobs to be had
especially for blacks and
browns
so listen
up
and
re-up
****************
THE
LATER DAY TRANSUBSTANTIATION OF BLESSED OLIVER
CROMWELL
By Fast
Eddie
As I myself was only in the near
vicinity
for only the briefest
while
and, on the best of my knowledge, no
one else
still left physically alive saw it
at all
unless they were in Rehnquistedor
error, with, I hasten to add, doubting
Thomas
for once staunchly on the right
side
I must confess my
sources
may eventually be
remaindered
as extremely difficult to be
believed
yet the simple bottom line
is
Rough and ready Oliver rode over to
Ireland
on a
ship
with a rather large contingent of
well-armed, chivalrous knights
and their
serving men
promptly conquered the whole
stupid bloody Irish
who
had
nowhere to be found amongst
them
not one single lively
gun
Left
their
eyeballs
to the
crows
meanwhile switched all the rents and
mortgages
to
himself
left
an
appropriate number
of dukes, barons and
earls
to collect, and collect, and
collect
and then, with all his goodly
and great business done,
promptly sailed back
home to England
looking very optimistically
forward
to any and
all
newly affordable
fun
Hit the upper Thames beaches
hard
whereupon an instantaneous quorum of
Williams,
Shakespeare, the Conqueror, and the
constant
All agreeably
declared
Once oh so poor
Oliver
To be rich, rich,
rich
Rich in benefits, rich in
blessings,
Rich in jewels and gold
and
Thrones, and crowns
and
Mortar, stone and
bricks
And calm and cool Blessed
Oliver
He said he minded it
not
All to his mind
merely
A magical little of
this,
A touch of
pre-ordination,
And a mysterious little of
that.
Bow down,
pray
Remember the wisdom of staying
alive
To see another
day
And oh, take that
Iraq.
**************
the
song of the secret police
By Stuart
Z. Perkoff
our times are
fast
they’re
crowded
we’re
crushed
we’re
lost
mirrors are
broken
i.d. cards
torn
faces are
stolen
disguises are
worn
no order! all
chaos!
all turmoil! no
peace!
but we can rely on the secret
police!
man’s own face repels
him
he doesn’t know his
name
but he knows that
someone
is scoring the
game
in the black of the
nite
in the uniform
terror
wrong is judged! right is
right!
this hell is no
error
there’s a
plan
we can see
it
even
man
cannot flee
it
no order! all
chaos!
all turmoil! no
peace!
but we can rely on the secret
police!
man destroys himself with
power
he is desperate,
confused
minute by minute, hour by
hour
he sees his offerings
refused
each failure is another
crime he carrys
of millions on millions on
millions of crimes
he lies to himself in his
stories
but these ARE criminal
times
no order! all
chaos!
all turmoil! no
peace!
but we can rely on the secret
police!
***************
The
Lovers’
Tree
By
Vessy Mink
Life is full of
beauty...
The way the lights at night turn
snowy bushes into Christmas trees
The
electric blue Chicago lit up sky.
The way it
brightly shines with ancient moon eye.
The
same old Christmas movie every year
Time is
passing quickly, now is
here.
And
in my family's home is where I
sleep
A couple times a year so bitter
sweet.
Sacred paths we all have lived a
thousand years
Echoes of a love so crisp so
far and yet so
near.
Without
love I shall not breathe...
For to take a
breath at all is love filled energy.
Not
wanting anymore than time can give
I am the
night wind
billowing.
The
stream is steadfast, flowing time
A steady
rhythm and a fearless climb
Up the highest
mountain tops we scale
To be right where we
are upon this
trail.
And
the redwoods they are calling me...
To
wish upon the shooting stars that fall for
thee.
True is the song that sings its
melody to sleep
Intertwining
wonder, such is the lovers’ tree.
Posted: Wed - January 1, 2003 at 08:46 PM