100 years

100 years
of this
you think i’m tired
i’m just waiting
for the sun
linger here
long enough
outlast them all
to remember
grievances
wipe their faces
in their ashes
blow them all away
last man standing
king of the mountain
a ripple effect
procession of blows
never forgotten
stockpile time
in a backpack
vengeance served cold
go on
in your ways
enslaved to a rage
of satanic proportions
perfect stranger
to the light
like an anchor
bring them down
love
hope
kill them all
because you could never understand
100 years
you’d think i’d forget
to scoff
cough
in your face
kick dirt
in the face
of too much time
wasted
anchored down
in sludge
for what

the hula maiden

down below
gyrations
of the hula maiden
he is still
not surprised
still
underwhelmed
pulls open
the shaking curtains
and is blinded
by the light of greed
dollars
credit cards
sign here
wow us
legs open wide
extol the male
sloth
buddah bellies
asses
all hang out
waste
pork carnage
empty plastic cups
pork
burned red skin
sunglasses lines
defined whites
around their eyes
bemused desire
but desire
when she is not looking
and even if she was
it’s the liquor talking
he withdraws
behind the drapes
beneath a crooked moon
and looks for lucky stars
to thank
he is better than them
different than them
he can’t be bought
sold
even if he is a grown man
in hiding
behind the grassy skirt
of a hula maiden
bought
sold
raped
in their minds
in a native place
in their minds
to be bent
processed
conformed
had
better than them

vladimir vladivostok

This one was originally posted minutes ago on www.thejesuitsieve.blogspot.com I decided to also post it here because, for different reasons, I think it should likewise be hosted via my own vehicle. Vladimir Vladivostok was a character conjured by my dad, a recurring protagonist of countless bedtime stories. The older we got, the more we demanded that my dad make the stories scarier and scarier. That was a long time ago.

paint peeling
the smoke of fried food
it was in the air
once upon a time
surrounded by walls
whose paint was peeling
surrounded by walls
through which only imagination
could pass
the white wolf
licks its paws
warm
by the cold river
vlad stokes
coals
of a fire
no one else can see
but do you feel it
can’t you feel it
been alone
for years now
with thoughts
that no longer stray
from distillations
of memories
so much so
fact has finally blurred
absolutely
with fiction
somewhere
in a tall forest
a man has finally
found time
when there is no time
to do the things
to say the things
conceived
in the heart
of a boy
the boy
behind his fading eyes
hiding out
peeking out
screaming out
now shush
in a forest
stoking coals
of a fire
that still burns
in a forest
for it was always
yours
if you cared

brittle heaven

Been away for a while regrouping. My wife and I went to Hawaii (the big island) for a full week while our Adrien stayed with his nonna (my mom) and grandma deedee (marla's mom) back in detroit. Apart from the awfully difficult separation felt without Adrien for such a time, we really did enjoy ourselves to the best of our abilities (considering marla is now six months pregnant)accentuated by a day trip to waterfalls and the Mauna Lona volcano; a trip to a kona coffee farm; a full day (for me and new friend Carlos) of jumping into and out of Pacific ocean waves under a beaming sun; a dazzling array of exquisite foods and island drinks (for me); morning runs beneath bright dawn skies and beside colourful, singing birds; generally breathtaking sights from one place to the next; and a fair dose of rest and relaxation. Unfortunately for Marla, she did have to do more work than either of us anticipated (it was, after all, a trip paid for by her company as a reward, but still). Unfortunately for me, I came down with bronchitis, and was totally bed-ridden for the last two days (including the flight home -- thank god for the doctor's prescription of zithromax which gave me any chance to get home) of the trip, and am still feeling the miserable effects of such affliction.
To compound matters, on our return home at 6am on saturday, we already knew that marla had to fly the next day (sunday) to england for business for the week. On top of that, our furnace had broken (a part did, anyway) so here we were, i was very sick and we were both deathly tired and adrien was going to be reuniting with us at around noon and we could see our breath in our house (5 degrees outside) and the whole place was just so cold. Plus, our stupid decrepid cat threw up all over the house.
Finally, much worse, on sunday before marla had to leave i called home to check in on my father, who was diagnosed with multiple myeloma about 11 years ago. He has defied all predictions for a person diagnosed with such a disease by years, but it appears that great gig in the sky is finally calling him home. He is on hospice care at home now, and after a phone call in which he could barely understand a thing i was saying, tears swelled my eyes, swiftly succeeded by the embrace of my 2 1/2 year old son, offering me a hall's menthol cough candy and asking if i was okay.
It's been a bitch of a week, the way i feel and with marla away and just me and adrien. I've been writing throughout. Some hawaii ideas will surface over time. The most recent pieces, directly or indirectly pertaining to aspects/memories of things about my dad have been seeing the light of day at the site i share with my brother, www.thejesuitsieve.blogspot.com At least for now, they feel more appropriate there. I'll be visiting him, and my brother Daniel who is in Detroit on leave from the military to see my dad, this weekend.

let us now praise ourselves

monkey
slaps the ass
of his red elephant
with a nine iron
hee haw
whoops
i did it again
mixing metaphors
he sighs
then passes gas
but blames
the jack ass
there ain’t no gold
black gold
in them there hills
and so I don’t
give a hoot
unless
of course
you protest too much
and you do
protest too much
and monkey
no likey
monkey
hee hee
monkey does
the chicken dance
when asked to give up
red elephant
for the sake of the dying
or the dead
hee haw
giddy up
monkey sees
fair blue seas
and scoffs
this is bullshit
this land is your land
this land is not my land
hell
it ain’t even land
for shits
and giggles
and monkey can’t see
a golf course
for his clubs
this is bullshit
he laments
perception
over genuine
image
over black gold
money
money
money
it’s not funny
my pockets bleed
but who shall weep
start another war
gawkers’ delight

how do you live

Here is one I've just originally posted to a site in which my brother Daniel and I are collaborating, www.thejesuitsieve.blogspot.com Given its content, and because I find ordinary verse from my perspective so many miles away from the tsunami calamity abroad to sound trite at best, I offer this here as well, for what it's worth.

there
the way the light
flirts with dark
yields shadow
is it still you?
in distortion
indifferent
to intention
you play
the hand you are dealt
or not at all
the room fills
slowly
with smoke
faster
with laughter
all around you
and the world
the world
it doubles over
inhales
exclaims
you mean nothing
the givers
the babies
the cheats
and conformists
sucks them up
throws them up
and you sit there
in another place
may as well be
another world
consumed
christmas lights
bells
candy canes
two weeks after
christmas

At first and then

Still so sickened about so much that is transpiring in the wake of the Indian Ocean. Meanwhile, of course, there is this:

Baghdad Governor Slain, 5 U.S. Troops Die
By NICK WADHAMSAssociated Press Writer Published January 4, 2005, 10:05 PM CST BAGHDAD, Iraq -- The governor of the Baghdad region, known for cooperating closely with American troops, was assassinated along with six bodyguards as he drove to work Tuesday in yet another bloody day of insurgent attacks that exposed grave security flaws in Iraq with elections less than a month away. Other assaults Tuesday killed five American troops as well as eight Iraqi commandos and two civilians, bringing the death toll in the last three days to more than 70. Despite the violence, which U.S. troops and Iraqi security forces have been helpless to prevent, American and Iraqi leaders insist the Jan. 30 vote would go forward. http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/nationworld/ats-ap_top11jan04,1,5017784.story?coll=chi-news-hed

Consequently, and again, although cognizant of sounding redundant, it is obvious voices as mine are unheard. Thus, I offer this:

It's Time to Get Out of Iraq
By David M. Edelstein and Ronald R. Krebs The Chicago Tribune
Monday 03 January 2005
Since March 2003, an almost unquestioned consensus has dominated the debate on Iraq: Toppling Saddam Hussein without building a new, stable Iraq would harm the welfare of Iraqis and undermine America's foreign policy interests.
The time has come, however, to embrace an unpleasant alternative: the withdrawal of U.S. and coalition forces from Iraq as soon as possible after the Jan. 30 elections. Concrete withdrawal plans would send a clear signal to Iraqis that the United States is not a colonial power, and withdrawal would stem the occupation's growing hemorrhage of lives and dollars. Most important, it would allow the United States to rededicate its assets to the fight against the global terrorist network rather than continuing to expend them on the struggle against insurgents in Iraq.
Critics will protest that such a policy would leave behind a civil war in Iraq, create a safe haven for terrorists and damage U.S. credibility. But sectarian violence is already prevalent in Iraq, and Sunni insurgents are working hard to fan the flames of sectarianism. It may be only a matter of time until the U.S. is enmeshed in an Iraqi civil war, and there is little reason to think that persisting with the status quo will improve the situation.
http://www.truthout.org/docs_05/010405F.shtml

the sea is coming

routine…
marching orders
of a life
a love
you never took for granted
in your dutiful homage
to the inexplicable urge
to live
to resist
to love
and be loved
the sun
it beat you
the sea
… some days were better
than others
yet you reveled
in the beautiful things
that surrounded
your labor of living
resisting
those precious moments
you could hold her hand
see your babies smile
yes, the sea and the sun
touched everything
you ever needed
inattentive to want
touched everything
you came to love
and you did love
most of all
you were grateful
for the sustenance
the sea did provide
reluctantly
as if it was saving itself
for something yet to come
kissed her goodbye
you always meant it so
teased the little ones
and laughed
they hated to be teased
and yet
they loved to be teased
all gone
in an instant
everything gone
the sea is coming
the sea has come
to reclaim
all of that
which it ever did give
you were a tenant here
a passenger
you meant far less
than you ever surmised
so far less
than the good man
in the eyes of your wife
than the king
your children knew you to be