Poetry

Poetry

Venice, 2014 – By Mary Getlein

Necessity – By Hillary Kaye

1 Wanda – By Pano Douvos

Remembering Amnesia – By Suzanne Verdal

You Can’t Play Music There – By Ronald McKinley

Venice Drumbeats – By Marty Liboff

Dudley Avenue Pagoda – By B. Meade

Venice Nights – By Savannah B. Nolan

My Happiness Has Wings – By James Stone

Epitaph – By Humberto Gomez Sequeira-HuGoS

——————————————————————

Venice, 2014

It’s bad enough – the air quality in California

All this construction –

gives local children asthma, dirty air

pollutants in the air, huge trucks going by,

Destroying our heritage – the funky old homes of Venice

rolled over by greedy developers

turning Venice into a series of concrete boxes –

all the boxes look the same –

no room for children, birds, air, sunsets

All that counts is money money money

relentless capitalism –

Once it’s gone, it’s gone

You are bulldozing our dreams

living in a funky little sea-town

where you can wear a slip and pajamas

and it doesn’t matter to anyone

Don’t let the homogenization happen

we are already surrounded by yuppies

who are so anxious to look alike, walk alike, talk alike

A big producer moves in,

took our post office and made it his private office,

right down the street from his empire,

a huge site is scheduled, a huge condo complex.

These guys are hand-in-hand with each other

Greedy capitalists come here to destroy, not create

Destroy our cultural heritage, our history

Destroy Abbot Kinney’s dream of a playground

for ALL, not just people with obscene amounts

of money.

Instead of a minimum wage, what about a maximum

wage? You can only earn so much and then you

have to use the rest of it to distribute income for

The rest of us?

We are not greedy developers –

We don’t know them –

We want to live here,

We were here first – before us were Beatniks:

poet-people, artists, singers, musicians,

people arrested for pornography when painting nudes

people beat up by the cops for belly-dancing

people arrested for singing after 6:00 pm in the winter

This is our home

This is an investment of time and love and memories

We love this place –

go find another place to bulldoze into a pile of dirt

we’re not having it here –

we’re sick of your “smile in our faces, stab us in the back”

Things can be changed –

it’s not over yet –

please don’t tell me it’s over

we need this place for our souls

for our children and our children’s children

don’t tell me it’s going to be a “used-to-be”

That we’ll have to show our children

pictures of how it “used-to-be”

and there is no wonderland here for them

no magic places to run for free, for fun

Don’t let this happen, Venetians!

We have to get together and fight this

We have to stand tall and fight this

We have to fight this, for our hearts and souls

for our brothers and sisters

the people still living here

and the people who used to live here

before they got evicted from their homes.

– Mary Getlein

————————————————————————

Necessity

The girl grew up by necessity.

She grew strong by necessity.

She grew wise  by  necessity.

She grew old, and no one ever

thought about what a strong, wise,

woman she had become.

So she has to go unappreciated

by necessity.

– Hillary Kaye

———————————————————-

1 Wanda

“wear desperation like a birthmark

it’s too late to die young

and too early to die in my sleep”

your writer bursts  laugh-blips

through startled lips

his cocoon status breached

W. Coleman controls the game

captain of all  just repeat

captain on land and sea

wins swift with wicked change-up

they couldn’t see em coming

get your head out

she smokes one past the bastard

leaving him “shivering and kicking

down to the ass bone”

the strongest word-hurler   Wanda

great performer immensely on target

voted MVP  Most Valuable Poet

glides erotic across the stage   while

we pick up her trophy for her

she being out of town right now

– Pano Douvos

————————————————————-

Remembering Amnesia

How words can scarce describe

Why she was left to hide.

Like pearl inside the shell

Rubbed squarely, years of Hell!

The portion large

When hopes were small,

I fought the cause

Or none at all.

My art sort a religion

Put dreams away

To boxes of forgetfulness

O Clown of God!

But then, momentous knowing

Won’t stop the tears from flowing,

While so many gathered ’round

To watch me falling to the ground.

Then melon came to holly

When Jupiter came to calley,

Dancing circles round the drumming

As Jesus, Krishna, did the humming.

Come down from your cross

You twit with gravitas,

Hurrying up to wait

Spending life for some mistake!

Oh God! Forgive the sinning

For you alone, knows where I’ve been.

The childish whims, the plunging grief.

As time does pass, bring on relief!

I told myself to lighten up

While pouring coffee in the cup.

– Suzanne Verdal

——————————————————-

You Can’t Play Music There

By Ronald K. Mc Kinley

You can’t play music there

Only in your designated square

You can’t sit there

Someone might see you think that they are free

You can’t make love there

That is obscene

Show your passion

To be seen

The Po-Po said it’s after sunset, sometimes before

You can’t play it’s a crime

Guitar and Drums weapons to be held in check

You can’t leave your backpack there

with everything you own

it might get stolen by some statute

You can’t sleep there

Or there

Or anywhere

You can’t drink there

It’s the Law

The store can sell it

There logic and reason ends

Just regulation and decree

Yes this is America

If you have the capital

Funds to have fun

You can play your music

In your studio

You can smoke at home

In your smoking jacket

Make love in your vault

Atop your dough

Make a movie anytime, anywhere

leave your discords for the poor

Once a year declare peace and love

Keeping true freedom from their door

—————————————————–

VENICE DRUMBEATS

Abraham beats his Drum

His heartbeat drumming,drumming…

A rainbow of Musicians

A sunshine of instruments drumming,drumming…

Singers singing,singing…

Guitars,flutes,tambourines

Abraham drumming,drumming…

Vibrational Echo

Through time and Space

Music drumming,drumming…

Back to our Roots

Our heartbeats beating,beating….

To remember and Feel

Even for the moment ticking,ticking…

Between the drumbeats beating,beating…

A rainbow of souls drumming,drumming…

Universal Love beating,beating…

Abraham drumming,drumming.

– Marty Liboff

———————————————-

Dudley Avenue Pagoda

Under a Morrison moon

Chemical cowboys

Voodoo gearshift

The hourglass of life

Fierce angels

Soulmining

The edge of ruin

– B. Meade

——————————————-

Venice Nights

Venice nights

Life’s sweet delights

Spinning carnival lights

Cool jaded moon

Soft golden sand

We walk hand in hand

We walk onto the promise land

Hear the drums

When the time comes

follow the sound

Watch the mystics whirl around

Light our camp fire

snuggle up beneath the moon

Flames dance from the campfire

Young nights spent on the beach

Amongst the stars and your eluding speech

The bongos play

We are birds of prey

We are youth at play

– Savannah B. Nolan

——————————————–

My Happiness Has Wings

My happiness overflows its boundaries

Silencing my ever haunting deadness

I will let myself enjoy this moment

I feel I have wings to fly

And by them I ambush evil schemes

My love as wild as the wind

Flowing from the south

Bringing the warmth of the sun

I close my eyes and travel

The compassions of grace and mercy

Surround my poor nature

I will lift my hands to praise

Oh, the joys that fill my heart

Are better than lustful gold

Spread like butter on hillsides

Song birds singing a heart’s tune

Remembered in my memory

Softly strummed on the strings

That stretch across my heart

A vast corridor of passage

Lined with art on the walls

A stone floor covered with

An ornate carpet leading

Into the horizon, white

My journey takes its course

– James Stone

—————————————–

Epitaph

By Humberto Gómez Sequeira-HuGóS

Here lie desire and frustration,

sparks generated by the same fire,

which turned into words of ire,

without senseful concatenation,

when pleasure expired on the pyre

that the wind blew into desolation.

Advertisements

Categories: Poetry

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s