Thursday, October 11, 2018

Monday, April 30, 2018

a vision


by anonymous




i have a vision of a new world

there will be no more war, oppression, poverty, injustice, alienation, aggression, inequality, or waste

there will be no races or sexes, so no racism or sexism

every human will be the same age

and the same height - 1.645 meters

and weigh exactly the same - 50 kilograms

every human will have their own space - 4.5 meters by 4.5 meters by 3 meters

and get the same amount of protein every day - 36 grams

and the same amount of oxygen every day - 555 liters

and the same amount of water every day - 2 liters


and the same amount of sleep every day - 7.6 hours out of 24

on a mattress 2 meters long and half a meter high

and listen to 4 hours of music every day, at 75 decibels

and watch 2 hours of educational videos every day

and meditate 4 or 5 hours a day

and run 2 hours a day

and practice yoga 1 or 2 hours a day

every human will have 2.4 hours a day to do as they please, without intruding on anyone else’s space

there will be no false information

religion, philosophy, and language will be abolished


truth will reign supreme, and set everybody free

the energy to maintain the levels of oxygen, water, and protein will be drawn from the sun

and when the sun is exhausted, the next star in the galaxy will be tapped, and then the next star after that

and when the galaxy is exhausted, the next galaxy and so on…

it might not go on forever

but forever is a long time



Sunday, April 29, 2018

my treat


by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"



i was walking down the street

i stopped and sat down on a park bench

behind me i heard somebody say

all i want is to be treated like a human being

what does that mean, i wondered

to be treated like a human being

how about you?

are you treated like a human being?

do you treat other people like human beings?

what about cats and dogs and reptiles and bugs?

do you treat them like human beings?

i started thinking about human beings

do you remember saddam hussein? or qaddafi? they were human beings


how were they treated?

they both started out well

they thought they were doing pretty good

saddam ended up living in a hole in the ground and then he was hanged

qaddafi was murdered in the street

how did you treat sadden hussein?

how did he treat you?

if you are a little older you might remember ronald reagan and margaret thatcher and o j simpson

they were human beings too

how did you treat them and how did they treat you?


and if you are a real old timer you might remember khruschev and marilyn monroe and general douglas macarthur

or you could go to the library and read books about people even further back, like hitler and florence nightingale and mary queen of scots and cleopatra and confucius

human beings, every one of them

how were they treated?

there have been a lot of human beings

it gets hard to keep track them all

you know what i'm saying?

it just goes to show you



Saturday, April 28, 2018

you





you were there
when i was born

you didn’t even
say hello

when i went outside
you followed

when i spoke
you were always behind me

in broad daylight
and when the sun went down

into classrooms
and churches

supermarkets
and pizza shops

job interviews
bars and movie theaters

i traveled the earth
trying to lose you

by plane, by bus
by foot on dusty roads


by boat, on subways
on roller coasters and ferris wheels

once, in a canoe
which did not overturn

you heard
my every conversation

interrupted
my every thought

when i “met”
someone on line

you always showed up
“in real life”

i don’t know
what i was thinking

i give up
you win

here
let me buy you a drink



Friday, April 27, 2018

morning glory



by samantha monday sternwall




little flower outside my window
shaking in the breeze
i heard a story about you
tell me if you please

all these years i thought you
were the same every day
but now i am told different
this is what they say

that every night you die
and in the morning are replaced
by another little flower
with the same smiling face

every night i go to sleep
and every night i dream
and in the morning i wake up
having floated down night’s stream

am i the same
or different every morn?
have there been 10,000 mes
since i was born?

o little flower
let us face the day
are we, or they, or anything real?
who are we to say?



Thursday, April 26, 2018

a walk in the rain





i decided to do something different
and went for a walk in the rain
and looked for signs in puddles
the mystery of life to explain

i met a cat with a serious face
and a dog that was wagging its tail
they passed me by with a look in their eye
that said wisdom was not for sale

i passed a bag lady drinking a fanta
with the daily news spread on her head
a taxi splashed me with muddy water
i wished i was home in bed

i entered a store of convenience
a lottery ticket to buy
the drawing was not until tuesday
i returned to the street with a sigh

i saw a man in a doorway
and thought i knew his name
but i passed him by without asking
he might know my secret shame

i wish it would rain forever
and nothing ever get dry
i would meet myself at the river
and look myself in the eye



Wednesday, April 25, 2018

another day, another song


by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"



if you make up a story as you go along
it might turn into a happy song
or it might turn into a cry of despair
you will never if you are not there

start with a girl who is down on her luck
and a guy driving a pickup truck
he stops and asks her if she wants a ride she says no and he starts to cry

this story could go in a lot of directions
you could cut it up in little sections
he could just drive way
and she could live for another day


she could become a tv star
and he could sit in a lonely bar
and look up and see her face on the screen
and wonder what it all means

or he could look through a dark lens
and vow eternal revenge
on the whole female species
while she gets a tan on sunny beaches

or they could both go down the road
dreaming in a secret code
that unlocks the key to these universes
of solitude, despair, and curses



Tuesday, April 24, 2018

at dusk


by corinne delmonico




samuel was a spider
felicia was a fly
kenneth was a dragon
with a twinkle in his eye

leonard was a lion
boris was a bat
amanda was a little girl
who thought the earth was flat

they all got together
in the old house at dusk
pamela was the parlor maid
who never had much lusk

jenkins was the lawyer
who was to read the will
but he had a spot of bother
and was nabbed by old bill

out in the distance
a train whistle cries
carrying away the prophets
who thought they were so wise

they all sat in the parlor
waiting for their tea
they can wait there forever
if it were only up to me



Monday, April 23, 2018

in the end


by corinne delmonico




everything comes out right in the end

the sun comes out

and the children dance in the streets

st george defeats the dragon

and the villagers go back to their homes

clint eastwood guns down judas on the main street of jerusalem as jezebel and salome watch from the window of king herod’s palace

anne frank takes down hitler with a few kung fu chops on the streets of leningrad as king richard the lion-hearted and his troops enter the city

errol flynn and shirley temple are married by christpher columbus on the deck of old ironsides as genghis khan surrenders his sword to george washington

sherlock holmes arrests omar khayyam just as he is about to slip poison into the teacup of florence nightingale

bob hope is telling jokes to the troops when albert einstein announces a new cure for old age and death

cinderella’s sisters give her a new car and a new washing machine and tell her they were always just kidding

mother teresa and mae west wave from balconies as the troops come marching home from the war against the galactic empire

mayor frank james and sheriff jesse james welcome billy the kid home from the war and treat him to a free strawberry ice cream sundae.

billy gets to sleep in his own little bed again

so do saladin and montezuma and andy jackson and nat turner and john brown and geronimo and john wayne

thomas edison and charles lindbergh build a space ship and the whole human race gets into it and flies to heaven

forever

in the end



Sunday, April 22, 2018

the accused


by anonymous




ah, most miserable of creatures, why must i confront you every day in the mirror?

in the reflections of windows as i pass through the cold and windy streets of the bleak and evil city?

my condition is an unfortunate one, though not, perhaps, one to inspire much pity, or even comprehension, among my fellows.

for i am haunted - yes, haunted - not by a ghost, and not by guilt for anything i have done or not done.

nor am i pursued, or feel myself to be pursued, as so many do, by a double - someone who will commit some horrid crime, or espouse some atrocious cause, for which i will then be blamed.

nor have i been accused of any specific crime, which i could then deny and attempt to bring proof out innocence

or hunted by a specific accuser - an accuser with a face or name, that i could confront.


no , i am haunted by the certainty that somehow, some way, i will be accused - of some as yet undreamed of deed, unspeakably monstrous, by a hidden and nameless accuser, who might accost me at any time, as i turn a corner, as i enter a cafe, who might emerge from under the staircase as i repair at night to my miserable fourth floor lodgings…

and cry - you! you! you are the one!

and i will be dumb… and i will have no defense…

oh accuser, come forth! spare me this endless torment, such as no one has ever suffered before!

reader, as you walk the street, as you gaze from your window, perhaps even as you enjoy the warmth go a cozy hearth, or the happy voices of some boon companions, have you ever felt this same fear, even for a fleeting moment?

or is this torment reserved for myself alone?

alone among all?

alone!



Saturday, April 21, 2018

emily mae


by huck chatterton




hey, remember
emily mae?

no, jerry
we don’t remember her

what a woman!
what a body!

the biggest boobs
the greatest ass

the longest legs
west of the mississippi

you read about her
in some book, jerry

she used to come in here
every night

she was a pal
always good for a laugh

nothing shocked her
you could say anything to her


and she’d just laugh
because she believed in

sexual freedom
just like you and me

she always had a smile
not like these

stuck up bitches
and feminazis today

don’t start, jerry
please

and if a guy was broke
she was always good

for a touch
or at least buy you a drink

and what a body!
what an ass!

you must remember
her ass at least


come on, guys
you must remember emily mae

only you, jerry
only you

she must have been
you own special girl

nobody ever saw her
but you

and some of us
have been coming here

twenty, thirty years
do the math



Friday, April 20, 2018

song for the end times


by corinne delmonico




humans were born to be free
but are enslaved by society
rounded up from meadows and fields
and to kings and priests forced to kneel

this has gone on for thousands of years
as the priests feed the flames of fear
and kings wave the flags of hate
until now it is almost too late

o humans rise up from the dust
and the pit into which you have been thrust
the earth has been looted and despoiled
and now your bones will be boiled

the masters are preparing their ships
with smiles on their lying lips
they are ready to blast off into space
to destroy some other unsuspecting race

the universe is vast and cold
but the story is getting old
and the trail of desolation
you can not put a happy face on

if you dispute the truth of my rhyme
and only wish to have a good time
the saints be with you my friend
and my song is at an end



Thursday, April 19, 2018

the dead wear white hats on the devil's birthday





don’t talk to me
about love and hate

i know all about
love and hate

i used to wait on the corner
for the school bus

cars went by
in the wind and rain

there was a police lady
who directed traffic

she had red hair
and a blue uniform

with a blue cap
and i loved her

and there was a newsstand
run by an old man


and he was ugly
and i hated him

so don’t tell me
i don’t know

about love and hate
i learned early



Wednesday, April 18, 2018

i already saw this movie more than once





i have walked this way before
likewise, seen that moonlit shore
this deserted garden looks familiar
and oh those distant hills, yeah

it’s a dirty shame
but it all looks the same
every night i return
to this street but never learn

who is looking down on me
from that bridge above the sea
from that ship in the night
as it floats away from sight

and the light that briefly shines
through the lonesome pines
as the car runs out of gas
yes, this way we all must pass

and the house on the hill
i should get there, but never will
i walk and walk and walk
there are no numbers on the clock



Tuesday, April 17, 2018

murder


a found poem




my god she said
in a quivering voice

he’s dead

murdered
as you can see

who -
who could have done it?

i’ve no idea,
i just got here

the window was open
and i just walked in

he was lying there

we have to call
the police

but first
i have an announcement to make


helen and i
are engaged

oh peter
that’s wonderful

what a shame
this had to happen just now

look here
maurice drawled

why call the damned police
at all?

why not sort it
out ourselves

the police are only
our servants

after all
yes yes


helen and peter
cried eagerly

there is plenty of room
in the garden

to bury him
whoever he may be

and that was how
it all began



Monday, April 16, 2018

the traveler






a weary traveler walks down a lonely road to a deserted garden.

where are you going, o traveler, and why are you so weary?

i am weary because i have traveled a long way, and because i am lonely.

why are you lonely, o traveler? i see a light in the distance. perhaps it an inn or a pub, you could retreat to its cozy warmth and rub elbows with your fellow creatures, consume a warm or cold beverage as your fancy suits you, perhaps share your thoughts on politics or art or philosophy or religion.

such things are not for me, i walk alone. alone, always alone.

night is falling, o traveler, are you not afraid of losing your way?

i have already lost my way, a long time ago.

the moon is rising, o traveler, perhaps it will light your way.

i have no way - no way except to doom.

look at this deserted garden, traveler, does it remind you of happier days?

no, not of happier days, but of all i ever loved.

and what might that have been?

the flowers.

ah, the flowers, always the flowers.

yes, the flowers that bloomed, the flowers that never bloomed, the flowers that were cut and placed in vases, that were displayed in lit windows, the flowers that blew away, that blew away in the dust, even as i….

ah, poor traveler, i will delay you no longer.

the flowers that blew away, that blew away in the dust, even as i….



Sunday, April 15, 2018

respect






all i want is to be free

nobody is forcing you to do anything

i want respect

whatever happened to wanting to be free?

you are the problem, you know that?

everybody is the problem

there wouldn't be any problem if everybody just showed a little respect

i am sorry, but i can’t use you

let’s keep in line there

you two, keep the noise down

yes, sir, thank you for your concern

the security guard gives them a long hard look

so’s your old man

because there are no solutions



Saturday, April 14, 2018

the stranger


by manfred corrington sternwall




i was born to rule the earth
but nobody noticed it at first
and treated me as just another
anonymous little earthly brother

my early years were filled with woe
i had no place much to go
it should come as no surprise
my brain was streamed with endless lies

how i waited for the day
when i could stand up and say
i have had enough - hereafter
you shall be pupils - i shall be master

the years went by- i was assigned
my place in society’s waiting line
i expected as i grew older
for the world to tap me on the shoulder

and say, you should not be here
there is some mistake, i fear
you are not number 21,876,943,501
you are the child of the sun

the years disappear in the breeze
but somehow nobody sees
will they never learn?
must again and again i return?