neither the thousand of battered books...with the poetry and philosophy embedded in their pages...
nor the broken statues...the torn and defaced paintings...none of them helped.
the hard cracked ground already had surrendered all its comforts to the overpowering forces. it had been used up and burned out: weak and half dead.
it was an old bitch gone in the teeth...a botched civilization...abomination...call it
SYPHILLIZATION.
as the land died, so did the people. too many gone...most into the void...the rest to the edges of it.
i knew it was all over and done except for the shouting...and the shooting...
as the first war slid into the second war as the cock and cum of a senile old man with terminal STDs drips between the legs and from the hole of an old whore, seriously poxied herself.
this is bad and will be bad for a long time.
-- emroe ezroe pwned
UPDATE, APRIL 13: This is a rewrite/edit by yours truly of part of the poem Hugh Selwyn Mauberly by Ezra Pound and something I saw on the net and downloaded for future use.
I won't claim originality in writing it, because that would be a lie, but I will claim that for rewriting it.
Showing posts with label prose poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prose poems. Show all posts
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Masquerade
Life, after all, is just a masquerade in a dimly lit ballroom ...
Where everyone rotates and changes partners until the lights come up...
Then you find yourself dancing with death.
That embrace lasts forever...and ever...
Where everyone rotates and changes partners until the lights come up...
Then you find yourself dancing with death.
That embrace lasts forever...and ever...
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Still Life
A still life ... of two things ... that can still your life ...Booze yourself to death ... alcoholic poisoning or cirrhosis ... that's long term ...
Or shoot yourself when you're sober ... that's short term ...
Or get drunk and shoot yourself ... that's also short term ...
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Exhalations
Ah/Yes.
Oh/No.
Eh/Maybe.
Uh/Whatever.
Ih/I don't care.
Huh/What?
Heh/You expect me to believe that?
Hoh/That's surprising!
Hah/Now that's funny!
Ugg/That's disgusting!
Oh/No.
Eh/Maybe.
Uh/Whatever.
Ih/I don't care.
Huh/What?
Heh/You expect me to believe that?
Hoh/That's surprising!
Hah/Now that's funny!
Ugg/That's disgusting!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
The Monkey Has Moved
The monkey that was on my back ...
Its claws have left some nasty wounds ...
They're now starting to heal ...
It's now on someone else's back ...
But why there ...
Why not the leg or the balls ...
Its claws have left some nasty wounds ...
They're now starting to heal ...
It's now on someone else's back ...
But why there ...
Why not the leg or the balls ...
Friday, February 19, 2010
French Canadian Bean Soup & So Forth
The last words of gangster Dutch Schultz have puzzled men since his death in 1935. Some think it's a code. Some think it's garbled nonsense and a very good imitation -- if unintended -- of the writings of Gertrude Stein.
Details of his life are here.
And here is a link to a transcription of the words themselves, which I put in my blog for your possible enlightenment and amusement.
Details of his life are here.
And here is a link to a transcription of the words themselves, which I put in my blog for your possible enlightenment and amusement.
Friday, July 31, 2009
If That Is How It Is
If that is how it is, then there's no negotiation.
If that is how it is, then I am surely saddened.
If that is how it is.
You gave your heart to another and now it's in his hands.
If the circumstances had been different ... yes, I know ... but I wish you hadn't said that.
You know, honey, I had a dream once.
You were wearing a medieval dress and standing in a tower. I climbed the tower and embraced you from behind. Your knight for you, fair lady.
But it won't be. Can't be.
You see, honey, what I wanted to do was to break through to your privateness, your withdrawl from the world, and take it from you.
Or did I want to join you there?
It would cover me with comfort like a blanket, true.
It would've been nice. But would it have worked?
I tell myself I'm not ready for sleep yet. And I don't when that will be.
Maybe never.
Goodbye, honey. I wish you well.
Take care, honey, Watch out for life's griefs.
And what about me? O, don't worry.
This'll hurt me -- hell, NOW it hurts me -- but I'll get past it.
Eventually.
If that is how it is, then I am surely saddened.
If that is how it is.
You gave your heart to another and now it's in his hands.
If the circumstances had been different ... yes, I know ... but I wish you hadn't said that.
You know, honey, I had a dream once.
You were wearing a medieval dress and standing in a tower. I climbed the tower and embraced you from behind. Your knight for you, fair lady.
But it won't be. Can't be.
You see, honey, what I wanted to do was to break through to your privateness, your withdrawl from the world, and take it from you.
Or did I want to join you there?
It would cover me with comfort like a blanket, true.
It would've been nice. But would it have worked?
I tell myself I'm not ready for sleep yet. And I don't when that will be.
Maybe never.
Goodbye, honey. I wish you well.
Take care, honey, Watch out for life's griefs.
And what about me? O, don't worry.
This'll hurt me -- hell, NOW it hurts me -- but I'll get past it.
Eventually.
Drive Time
This happened during September 1985.
I drove west on 38th Street in Indianapolis and had passed Keystone Avenue before I noticed that the buildings were old and some were vacant -- shells of the businesses that had left them.
I imagined how it was 60 or 50 or even 40 or 30 years ago, when the street was the main business through a neighborhood, with groceries stories, cleaners, hardware stores, and other businesses within easy walking distance of the residents. Now it was inhabited with people of various social and economic levels, most of them low.
I thought the windows of the buildings looked like sockets for dead and gone eyes and the buildings looked like skulls. I shuddred.
By then I had passed the grounds of the Indianapolis Art Museum and immediately rolled through what looked like a park but what was the museum's' grounds, the former estate of a pharmaceutical tycoon and his family. I noticed trees which were about five to 10 years old according to their height, planted in rows like a nursery.
I went under an overpass and saw car lots, strip malls, and the rest of a transient commercial area where businesses were here today and gone six months from now after a decision by the central office -- usuall somewhere out of state.
I compared this area to the area along Shadelane Avenue between Washington and East 38th streets and decided that the only way this section was better was that the asphalt of the srtreets wasn't crumbling.
By then, I had driven past where west 38th Street intersects Interstate 465. The cars in the opposite lanes reminded him of insects and their headlights of bug eyes.
I had driven past my destination, so I turned around.
I drove west on 38th Street in Indianapolis and had passed Keystone Avenue before I noticed that the buildings were old and some were vacant -- shells of the businesses that had left them.
I imagined how it was 60 or 50 or even 40 or 30 years ago, when the street was the main business through a neighborhood, with groceries stories, cleaners, hardware stores, and other businesses within easy walking distance of the residents. Now it was inhabited with people of various social and economic levels, most of them low.
I thought the windows of the buildings looked like sockets for dead and gone eyes and the buildings looked like skulls. I shuddred.
By then I had passed the grounds of the Indianapolis Art Museum and immediately rolled through what looked like a park but what was the museum's' grounds, the former estate of a pharmaceutical tycoon and his family. I noticed trees which were about five to 10 years old according to their height, planted in rows like a nursery.
I went under an overpass and saw car lots, strip malls, and the rest of a transient commercial area where businesses were here today and gone six months from now after a decision by the central office -- usuall somewhere out of state.
I compared this area to the area along Shadelane Avenue between Washington and East 38th streets and decided that the only way this section was better was that the asphalt of the srtreets wasn't crumbling.
By then, I had driven past where west 38th Street intersects Interstate 465. The cars in the opposite lanes reminded him of insects and their headlights of bug eyes.
I had driven past my destination, so I turned around.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
If It Wasn't For That
He'd be a lot different if it wasn't for that.
Because he believed the actions of the outside affect the actions of the inside.
He brooded upon it, often at night, when he was alone and he couldn't sleep, as he smoked cigarette after cigarette.
He thought about it as it stood in the middle of his mindscape.
And his thoughts about it were under the mindscape like a paved-over river that flowed through a city, and it was in his mindscape like a fog. it was always in and on his mind and thoughts. It just wouldn't go away by itself, and he couldn't push it away.
And just what was it, exactly?
He couldn't say for sure, because if he brought it to the front of his mind, it overwhelmed him and stop him from speaks. It felt as if his blood had been replaced by quick-drying cement.
But can we -- that is, you and I -- talk about it?
Sure. I know what it was. And I know you want to know about it. But if I told you now, then we wouldn't have much of a story left, would we?
What it was.
What it was.
What it was.
Because he believed the actions of the outside affect the actions of the inside.
He brooded upon it, often at night, when he was alone and he couldn't sleep, as he smoked cigarette after cigarette.
He thought about it as it stood in the middle of his mindscape.
And his thoughts about it were under the mindscape like a paved-over river that flowed through a city, and it was in his mindscape like a fog. it was always in and on his mind and thoughts. It just wouldn't go away by itself, and he couldn't push it away.
And just what was it, exactly?
He couldn't say for sure, because if he brought it to the front of his mind, it overwhelmed him and stop him from speaks. It felt as if his blood had been replaced by quick-drying cement.
But can we -- that is, you and I -- talk about it?
Sure. I know what it was. And I know you want to know about it. But if I told you now, then we wouldn't have much of a story left, would we?
What it was.
What it was.
What it was.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Silent, Stifiled, Sleeping Screams
One
Somewhere in the back of his mind sleeps a scream, because the time for it to fly has not yet come.
Besides, men don't scream unless they just can't stand their tortures any more and their souls go down. Or the pain flows like water high and strong enough over the dams, dikes, and levees of the ego.
Such are the screams in the back of his mind. It's as if he's in a room, with the door closed, anxious to sleep, but the screams prowl and sound in the halls outside the room like rabid and ravenous wolves.
Two
Many have been the times that he stifled screams because of repercussions:
such repressions lead to strokes, anurysms, and heart attacks.
Somewhere in the back of his mind sleeps a scream, because the time for it to fly has not yet come.
Besides, men don't scream unless they just can't stand their tortures any more and their souls go down. Or the pain flows like water high and strong enough over the dams, dikes, and levees of the ego.
Such are the screams in the back of his mind. It's as if he's in a room, with the door closed, anxious to sleep, but the screams prowl and sound in the halls outside the room like rabid and ravenous wolves.
Two
Many have been the times that he stifled screams because of repercussions:
- It's not that important;
- Not here;
- Not to him or her or them or it;
such repressions lead to strokes, anurysms, and heart attacks.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
night bird, rain bird
night bird, rain bird, let me come to you.
the streets are wet at 3 a.m. i walk them alone and sad, for i've seen the fates of people and the lives that they'll live.
if i was more sensitive, i'd cry. but i'm too hard for that.
if i was more cynical, i'd sneer. but i'm too soft for that.
both are luxuries i won't buy. they cost too much for my spirit soul.
but
it would be nice if i was with you.
i want to g. there. to be with you. night bird, rain bird.
you know the dark songs and dark woods, but you're not a part of them. you're lucky. you got out.
but you can't read my mind, so i call you. come on over, you say.
there's a warm drink and a fire. i talk with you and i feel better.
i sleep in your bed.
thanks for the rest, night bird, rain bird.
goodbye for now. i'll get with you later.
the streets are wet at 3 a.m. i walk them alone and sad, for i've seen the fates of people and the lives that they'll live.
if i was more sensitive, i'd cry. but i'm too hard for that.
if i was more cynical, i'd sneer. but i'm too soft for that.
both are luxuries i won't buy. they cost too much for my spirit soul.
but
it would be nice if i was with you.
i want to g. there. to be with you. night bird, rain bird.
you know the dark songs and dark woods, but you're not a part of them. you're lucky. you got out.
but you can't read my mind, so i call you. come on over, you say.
there's a warm drink and a fire. i talk with you and i feel better.
i sleep in your bed.
thanks for the rest, night bird, rain bird.
goodbye for now. i'll get with you later.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
it wasn't me who ...
dropped that glass ...
didn't pick up the shards of that broken glass ...
tied the firecracker to the cat's tail ...
lit the fuse ...
took that kid's lunch money ...
spent all my allowance on candy ...
cheated on my chemistry test ...
beat up that fag the other night in that vacant lot ...
stood in a group and watched a bunch of guys do that ...
plagiarized that term paper ...
blackballed you from the fraternity ...
fucked your best friend, honey ...
took all the credit for the job that we both did ...
didn't pay all my taxes that year ...
insulted your wife ...
got drunk ...
forgot your birthday party ...
had an affair with that woman down the street ...
called him a nigger ...
etc
&
etc
lived a bad life ...
o lord ...
didn't pick up the shards of that broken glass ...
tied the firecracker to the cat's tail ...
lit the fuse ...
took that kid's lunch money ...
spent all my allowance on candy ...
cheated on my chemistry test ...
beat up that fag the other night in that vacant lot ...
stood in a group and watched a bunch of guys do that ...
plagiarized that term paper ...
blackballed you from the fraternity ...
fucked your best friend, honey ...
took all the credit for the job that we both did ...
didn't pay all my taxes that year ...
insulted your wife ...
got drunk ...
forgot your birthday party ...
had an affair with that woman down the street ...
called him a nigger ...
etc
&
etc
lived a bad life ...
o lord ...
Sunday, December 7, 2008
you're the one
pretty young women, dressed real nicely -- formal dresses, white gloves and all -- walk shadow street at night and give out diamonds.
they say to those who received them:
"you're the one."
when that happens, just say thanks. then take the diamonds and bury them in your back yard.
they're good investments -- nice things to own for bad times coming.
one night last week, i went to shadow street to get some diamonds.
i saw the women, dressed real nicely -- formal dresses, white gloves and all -- but none of them came up to give me diamonds.
even though they looked right at me, i know now it was more like that they looked right through me.
guess i'm not the one.
they say to those who received them:
"you're the one."
when that happens, just say thanks. then take the diamonds and bury them in your back yard.
they're good investments -- nice things to own for bad times coming.
one night last week, i went to shadow street to get some diamonds.
i saw the women, dressed real nicely -- formal dresses, white gloves and all -- but none of them came up to give me diamonds.
even though they looked right at me, i know now it was more like that they looked right through me.
guess i'm not the one.
Friday, October 24, 2008
the terror and the tower
this came to me once in a dream. now i present it to you.
uno
first is the terror from the tower.
it is the easiest to defeat because it is outside the tower.
you can catch it to lock it away or you can kill it.
duo
next is the terror in the tower.
you must go inside to face it.
once there, it can kill you or you can kill it.
or you can take it outside to lock it away.
trio
the worst is the terror of the tower -- where the terror is the tower itself.
the only way to defeat it is to destroy it.
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