Poetry

Poetry

love hate venice – By Della Franco
Ferguson, Missouri, 2014 – By Mary Getlein
Post Racial Ferguson – By Ronald McKinley
The Great Cop Out! or, The Saint Louie Blues… – By Moishe da Kooken Cocker
Roger Houston
Waiting on the Muse – By Tom Beatty
A Love Affair – By Laura Shepard Townsend
About a Love – By Virág Vida
—————————————
love hate venice
 
I love venice
with its colors everywhere
a mural in an alley, a painting on a wall
a portrait covering a garage door.
 
I hate venice
with its taggings and names sprawled
covering and tainting art
with egotistical territorial war.
 
I love venice
the walk across the sand
where dancers and drummers
at sunset make a universal band.
 
I hate venice
trash forgotten covers the land
plastic, bottles and other junk
left by people who don’t give a damn.
 
I love venice
and the people who really try
struggling to keep the boardwalk alive
fighting to preserve its authentic vibe.
 
I hate venice
and the crazy people who are loud
the ones who perpetuate crime
I cannot stand finding shit on the ground.
 
I love venice
I have neighbbours who say hi
I hate venice
there are scary strangers who make my kid cry.
 
I love venice
it is my home.
I hate venice
it does not feel like home.
 
– della franco
———————————————-
Ferguson, Missouri, 2014

take the good with the bad
the sick and the well
the kind moments and the mean moments
the quick and the dead
the babies and the stumbling old fools
the animals and the plants
the stars and the dirt
the dirt travels all around the world
before settling in your lungs
giving you pleasure along with disease
how can you help but be confused
which side are you on?
do you know your history?
what or who ruled your ancestors?
the rules or rule we lived under?
the kings and queens who crushed our rebellion?
the poor are rising up again
they want a piece of the pie
not just the crumbs society has left
to scatter over their poor broken bones
the country is turning toward repression
one more time they want to beat the people down
they are killing the youth, our future
they are there with guns cocked, ready to go
where are you on this?
do you even care?
people have to rise up and let them know
we are not going to do this again
Nina Simone called us the united snakes of America
are you happy with this description?
do you think it’s a label that fits?
stand up and let our voices be heard
we need to stand up to speak the truth.

– Mary Getlein
——————————————
Post Racial Ferguson
By Ronald K. Mc Kinley

The hate is still there politically opaque
Seeded by emotional crisis and radical change
The dance of the Americas
The muse of Pigmentation
Entitlement to the world and his quintessence
The cacophony of his molecular music autonomous
He can be destroyed but not defeated
Targeted by systems or six well placed rounds
——————————————–
The Great Cop Out!
or, The Saint Louie Blues…

Police brutality
Inhuman cruelty
Sick, societal insanity.
Didn’t the bad guys wear black?
Talk back  
And they give ya a smack!
“To Protect and Serve” on their cars
All they want to do is throw ya behind bars!
More oppression to the minorities and the poor
Complain and they kick down your door!
For hungry and homeless
Life is a mess
Jailing you is BIG business
Prisoners feed the money craziness –
Judges, police, vendors, lawyers, jailers
Bloodsucking money makers.
The system is sick
Minorities and hippies the pigs pick
It’s their job to be a bigot.
Illegal, unconstitutional searches
Any excuse to get you in their evil clutches!
Innocent?! Tell it to da judge, cops say
They know anyway you’re gonna pay.
Politicians make up more and more laws
Grind you up in the Devil’s jaws.
Pigs are paid to beat ya up and shoot ya dead
On our streets the blood runs red.
The mentally ill
They kill
While the real crooks
Are corporate and bank snooks!
Blacks and Latinos fill the jails
Showing the system fails.
Powerful unions perpetuate the sin
Lock you up in the bin.
Police are all ex G.I.s
Soldiers shoot ya between the eyes
And anyone dies.
Mentally wounded soldiers back from Iraq and Afghanistan
Rounding us all up is der Master Plan!
A militarized police complex
For our nation is a vex.
Pigs commit murder everyday
The poor and minorities they slay.
It’s their job to keep us down
And gentrify our town.
I LOVE AMERIKA!
Obey, Obey, Obey
I have nuthin more ta say!!!
Dear police, PLEASE don’t shoot me today!!!
OY VAY!!!

– Moishe da Kooken Cocker    Aug.2014
——————————————
00:00 Monday, August 25th, 2014, Adullam
….. As it has just turned midnight. Take the calm. And mix in three parts
silence. Let the room Be bathed in iridescence. Let the dark Combine with the
ethereal. Then mark The moment with the muffled drone of fan. The microscopic
penstrokes of a man. The sweet surrender of the college-ruled. Invites
discourse. Quite soon the lines are filled. Another midnight sonnet. Palindrome.
Another quiet season. Subtle zone. Where mystery abounds. Create a spark. And
bring all to a simmer. Angels lurk. The corridors of my lost, ancient tomb. Then
let it cool. And gel. Let it become ….. Roger Houston, post-beat romantic
——————————————–
Waiting on the Muse
By Tom Beatty

I tried to find her,

sat there through
hollow days and dying nites.

In front of a keyboard
or,
a yellow pad
or,
a bench or bar.

But
she was so elusive,
a lost, once imagined
ghost.

Not to be caught
and
our of reach,
like a peaceful life.

So many nites alone,
honest abandonment
and
direct dismissal.

Unasked and unannounced,
she drifted back in.

So now should I ask her where she has been?

Where?
All
those ling nites
and empty days
and
blank moments
and
listless afternoons
filled with callous eternity.

I dare not
as I am
so afraid
she
will
leave
again.
——————————
A Love Affair

Our Sky lights haloed by

The dusk of Moon Light

And stars witness and whisper of our love affair

Oh yes, this mingling and tango has gone on

For many many years

We have traveled, you and I

A history of aeons

Imprinted upon one anothers’ souls

Archives of lost lands

Of beckoning shores

An inexact knowledge of eternities

Only an intuition

Candles flicker this night

As we speak of our betrothal

To art

And to our muses

And to one another

So simple,

And yet our joining

Is such mystery

Such a sleight of hand

As the tapestry wove us together

And continues to weave

Intrinsic threads

Yours and mine,

Bonded

Ushered forth

Patterns birthed

Oh, my breath is lost

At the thought of our merging.

– Laura Shepard Townsend
———————————-
About a Love
By Virág Vida

Life bursts in me like lightening,
Morning lights dig bright golden rays
Deep into my hair
I live
in an eternal time difference.
 
You burst in me like lightening
Five thousand miles,
Five thousand Volt in
your eyes
I will never be in your arms.

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Categories: Poetry

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