The duck and the pigeon

The duck and the pigeon met by chance
Stowed away on a boat to France
They hopped a truck parked at the dock
Then drove to Montmartre and on to Chartres
And while they journeyed to Par´e
They each told stories of their families.

Arriving in Paris, they leapt from the truck
The pigeon danced wildly with the waddling duck
What a funny sight these two birds were
Walking the streets, looking in stores
Seeing the dazzling wares galore.

“That hat would make a lovely present
To match my sister’s new-born pheasant
And for my mother I’ll get a pot
She loves to bake and cook a lot.”
“That’s great,” the pigeon did chime in
“My wife will like that shiny pin.
And for my brother I’ll get suspenders
And for my sister, a pair of book enders!”
So off the duck and pigeon strolled
From street to street and boulevard
Admiring everything in sight,
They did this long into the night.

The happy pair had a grand old time
They visited the countryside again and again
To see where grapes were grown and then
Where Van Gogh painted and even Cezanne
Before returning to Par´e
To take a train to the ferry
Where their journey home would begin
Loaded with presents for family and friends.

Mimeographed

I am a copy of myself
Just offer me a cigarette
And though you know I do not smoke
I dare to say I will not choke.

Now this is very odd indeed
I run and run and run with speed
This makes me feel that I am free
For trouble seems to follow me
No matter where or when, you please
I usually begin to bleed.

Make no mistake (perhaps just one)
Mistakes are rarely very fun
Avoid temptation to reply
I say this, but I don’t know why
So if you are inclined to write
I hope to find that you’re polite!

Flesh to Earth

#1
I weep for one who cannot hear
But nonetheless I weep
The tears seep through my hardened heart
Into my swollen breast
Shattering my mind apart
That I may still find rest.

Soldier, ride from battle, ride
Broken mind and soul
Ride until the heavens part
And swallow, one and all.

Weep, weep, weep and then
Turn into the wind
Till rain and tears are one, my love
And flesh to earth becomes.

#2
Loneliness dissolves to tears
Sickness eats my heart
Eyes that sorrow blinds
And the world slips apart.

In death are we not made whole?
For who can say this is not so
Can testify to life beyond
If there be one, then let us go
If there be none, let the dead rest
Free of pain and sorrow’s weariness.

Lament not the passing
Yours draws nearer each hour.

#3
Nearer is mine
So near your asking holds it
Mine, trivial to the world around
Yet
I would dissolve this union of flesh to bone
Could I hold to my resolve
But
Left with promises unfulfilled
Life continues
So seemingly even
Smiles correct
Heart drawn and quartered

Oh, had you not asked!

Parked Cars in NYC

No spaces found. You’d think
cars would be anathema in this town
of subways running 24/7, and car thieves prowling round
Mercedes lining every street
BMWs looking oh so neat.
You’d think they’d smarten up,
but not in this town.
In this town they run around, cell phones held out,
oblivious to sounds
of footsteps, and I wonder who will lose
tonight.
Shattered glass tells tales of thieves
and late-night news weaves stories of grief–
cellphones ripped from unsuspecting heads.
New Yorkers.
Stupid, for growing up on these streets, nothing’s ever left to chance.
You know better living here.
Tuck your jewelry in your blouse, turn your rings around. And sneakers.
Can’t outrun the bad guys in heels.
So jack my car–I have insurance.

David Bowie Revisited

I fell down
It wasn’t far
But in that distance life shot past
with indeterminate speed
I was the moon, falling,
David Bowie gliding to earth
Lost in a desert
Alien to myself as to all around
I grabbed a midnight Pan Am and headed to New York,
Landed in Idlewild,
Memories not yours.
You, the simple one I used to be,
After all the searching
Found life was only what I needed.
Shadows crawled out from the walls,
Dreams of freedom being mine
As you fell into cracks and crevices so small
That hopes of retrieving you were insane.

ethos

oppressed
exigent days
New York fills me with a haze
of smoke and soot
abides not well
New York borders on the hell
of crass indifference
and yet to tell
it often proves a boon
a source of pride as all collide
and come together, side by side

A Global-Warming Christmas

(sung to the tune of “Let It Snow”)
Oh, the climate outside is heightening
All our fears of ice caps melting
And the oceans rising round
As we drown, as we drown, as we drown.

It doesn’t show signs of slowing
As the miles we drive keep growing
And we bury our heads underground
As we drown, as we drown, as we drown.

It’s a long way off I know
And still you see it snow
But if you really want to know
It’s an inch, not a foot!

So let’s huddle together once more
While there’s still winter we can adore
And even though I know
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Outrage in Okinawa, New York Times, Nov. 2, 2012

Once an Osprey was a bird
Magnificent in its form, transcendent in its life,
We have turned nature to steel, the osprey to beast
Mechanical and huge
Lumbering in the sky on gasoline, blades chopping the air, heavy and cursed.

What have we done
Not only the sadness of the Okinawans burden our shoulders
We too bear the devastation of insanity.

Rape, perennial, lays fallow to be resurrected again and again,
Against the women
Against the men
Flesh torn, sullied
Minds crushed, numbed.

We do not answer.

We are the devils of the earth
Asleep
We will not rise till we are done
Incinerating our land, our men, our women
Incinerating our minds
Till our thoughts are no more.

Did you think a thought?
Not one, no more, as we follow, donkeys all, packed meaningless by our masters, slaves all, technology our master, Halliburton (etc) our owners.

And then Romney? Would woman have no right to her body? To work for less than man?
Control her, would you this?
Why must she pay for your ego?
You, who have not provided
You, who have demeaned her to maintain your own self-worth.

What plaything is she that
Without her, you would not exist
Is that your worry?
You, who are not whole, need another.
No god are you, lacking too, no charm nor feeling
Blunt you may be
She is the light of life
The sun for your warmth
The hawk in the wind, circling for the babe’s morning meal.
She is your other half
And all you do
All you can feel
Is a horror that she is something, someone you need.

Cry I, cry again and again.
Cry more and more each day.
Till tears are floods and floods tsunamis
Till my heart bears no more and I have ceased to be.

Okay, It ‘s Alright…(Nevertheless, although found widely, alright remains nonstandard…)

(hummed to the tune of the BBC show ‘New Tricks’)

It’s okay
No big deal
The rich are richer and the poor can’t deal
It’s alright
It’s okay
The end is coming this way.

It’s for sure
Some shall say
That equal rights is the only way.
It’s alright, it’s okay
The poor are poorer each day.

The sun don’t shine six feet down
The living might as well go under ground
The middle class have lost their heads
The sand is lookin’ good instead.

It’s alright, it’s okay
You muddle by each and every day.
It’s alright, it’s okay
Death is just a step away.

Watch out 2

(hummed to some song, the title of which I can’t remember…)

Watch out
Here they come
I say watch out
They’re on the run
And if you watch out
You’re sure to see
That Obama and Romney
Are phony as can be.

Ten times ten is no big deal
But when your paycheck’s gone
There’s no more meals.
You’ll starve to death if you listen to one
So if you get my drift, you’ll start to run.

You better watch out
They’re on their way
So just watch out
I’m goin’ to say
That if you don’t watch out
We just might become
Another third world country that’s on the run.

Watch out…

(hummed to the “Streets of Laredo”)

I spied a young cowboy
Astride a painted pony
Cowboy’s hat was a flopping
Pony’s tail was in knots
Now this little horsy
He tried best he could–
But the cowboy kept riding
Till the pony was no good.

He crawled and he cried
His life was a shambles
No pony to ride
No money, no pride
His shirt was in tatters
Not that it all matters
But his life was gone–
Gone now for good.

This lesson you’ll learn
That ridin’s a privilege
That horsy just died
Right where it stood
That man goin’ nowhere
His pony six feet under
Take care of your workers
Fore’ you’re head’s off for good.

Food!

oops whoops
oh boy
whoa
not so
oy vey
I swear
I might have had a fright
oh my
I looked around until I found
a pair of Starlings flying low
and other birds aloft, you know
that birds in flight
can tell a lot
of things to come
and things undone
of dreams inside your pretty head
and silly words to stop you dead
of vegetables that rot in hell
and others that divinely make
your day a wondrous place to dwell
and fill your tummy till it swells.
And then there’s dips and chips and such
that fill you up, and up, and up
with calories and fat and more
that in the end will make you swear
to reassess your food affairs!

…to Silver, Obama, Romney and all…

It’s a dog eat dog world
If you know what I mean
It’s Martini and Rossi
It’s a drunk’s perfect dream
There’s a bone in the cupboard
And more in the store
But you’ll pay through the nose
And eat off the floor.

So here’s to the jobless
And the minimum wage
To Obama and Romney
And the millions they make
For themselves and their cronies
For the widening gap
‘Tween the poor and the rich
And no middle class.

Just one more thing –
Here’s to Silver and his crew
In New York they had thought
A raise was their due.
But they screwed themselves royally
And this I don’t mind
For its been several years
Since I’ve seen a dime.

I’ve been without work,
Just one of a crowd.
Don’t mind me saying
I’m not really proud.
But I can’t rightly say what a restaurant looks like
Haven’t been to the barber,
Cut my own hair, that’s right.
And the doctor, well hell
Who knows the last time
Had my temperature taken
Or felt really fine?
And my house,
Well it’s standing
But when winter comes
The thermostat won’t reach past 51.
That’s Fahrenheit friends,
Not Celsius, no
So I’m glad those old sweaters I didn’t let go.

So here’s to Silver, Obama, Romney and all
The politicians who knock at my door
Wanting my vote
For what, I should ask.
They’ll do what they want
And we’ll fall through the cracks.

from within

Knocking from the inside.
I have never noticed this
Nor known I was closed.
You could not see
Nor hear me.
Only I hear, the ramblings, deranged.
Laughter and sorrow, wound together
within.

What wouldn’t I do for a dog…

I wandered down these streets alone

Until I found my way back home

And went inside to get a bone

Because my dog was on the phone

And couldn’t get away, you see

Until it was a quarter to three!