Geoausch

I just recently purchased a new laptop and I’m the process of transferring all of my files from my old laptop to an external hard drive for easier access. I found some of my old poetry I hadn’t read in a while, especially a poem I’ve had a couple of requests for….

Looking back, it’s clearly a cheap attempt at “Howl” and I realize that I fell well short of that mark, but it still carries a lot of emotional value for me. Feel free to comment and/or critique:

“November Spawned a Monster”

Cold blue smoke floats on a Wednesday afternoon
angst, the breakfast of champions, fuels me to
press on through the monotony of life.
Trapped in the glass globe of “southern living.”
Malnourished! Left to starve and choke on the
recycled Puritanical lies they
feed me.  People shuffle in and out, blind
to the rape which is occurring daily.
They rape me too, for years violated
by their calls for hate, while they paint it love.
Like a scared turtle I took shelter from
my fears in them, a product of my guilt.
Guilt, the crutch they use to beat dissenters.
No longer can I follow their trademark
recipe for hate.  Free thought my only
vehicle out of this holy shit-hole.
A 21st century digital
boy, a 21st century gad fly
America my Athens, but will my
idle words pack a sting or will hemlock
be my next entrée.  Pop radio the death
of life, sadly I silently hide the fact
I know the words, the headlines read the same
another nazi in Austin a pawn
to King George, a cog in the machine that’s
becoming the new evil empire
nicotine my friend on this bittersweet
morning.  A peace settles in as I am
reminded of words I read many years
ago, the only thing constant is change.
But what has changed? An epic sense of hate
and fear disguised in an artificial
sense of nationalism—Bush-leaguers—
black blood blinds bastard men obligated
to contractual obligations and
the divine sovereignty of Enron.
Rummy, The Cardiac Kid and Bushels
the cowboy clown bravely leading us on the
imperialistic charge through Babylon.
Illegitimacy abounds in an
illegitimate government. They
hate Mohamed—Mohamed sure loves them.
They remind us of that “Day”—a day I
remember all too well.
The incessant drone of the alarm clock
I tunneled in my sheets; sunlight seeped in
A confused voice stirred me, I sat up
“What are the chances this is an accident?”
I ran to the TV…Explosion #2!
I drive to work…Explosion #3!
Work, how can I work at a time like this?
I walked outside and lit a cigarette
the sun vibrantly shone casting shadows
upon the corridor I walked.
I heard the clanking of the flagpoles blowing in the distance
I reached for my phone; hoping for a connection out there
Busy.  I looked up, clear blue sky not a single cloud.
I walk on, heading towards a skyscraper.
Again, I dialed a number, hoping for a voice
Line down.  I looked up, how and why
I sat alone on the curve, lighting another cigarette
the nicotine my only comforter.
“Three down and one aloof”
What the fuck was happening?
It’s 9:30 A.M. and single yellow cab pulls into the bus station
$59 or less to anywhere?  How far is anywhere?
Not far enough.
I look down College, the city bus putts along as
Though it too has been affected.
My phone rings, I answer
Static. God Damnit, it might have been her
I look up, a family of pigeons dives towards our building
Never before had this scared me
Men with purple hearts, Carry silver guns hidden behind their sports coat
They stand on the street corners and watch.
I walk out of the shadows and into the sun.
Fall is approaching and a crisp breeze begins to blow down the street
I look around and all is at peace.
Does nature know something I don’t?
One more cigarette before Reba kills me
“Imagine there’s no heaven”
You got that right John.
No countries, no wars, and no religion
Right on, the words ring through my head
As if someone is positioned on the Bank of America building
Blaring the song throughout all of downtown.
All I ever need to know I learned from the Beatles
And Dylan, Dylan was good to
They warned us…they all warned us
Hell Sophocles and Aeschlyus warned us
But did we listen, too much fucking hubris for that.
Now 4,000 gone and counting
Will we learn now?
Or are we all still black and white?
Gay and straight?  Christian and Muslim?
When will we see that it’s all shit? We are merely human.
What’s she doing?  I bet she can see the shit from her window?
Better than Brokaw, better than Rather
She’s got the birdeyes view.  If I could only reach her.
Suddenly, I am once again paralyzed by the words of Lennon
Perhaps this will help us do away with the Puritanical myths
Maybe, we can live as one.
Teary eyed women come out of the building
And my dream is soon crushed.
I hear their rhetoric but I don’t comprehend
What is a “towel head”?
And how are they all responsible for this?
It’s a chance for the cowboy president
To gallop in the sunset
Showing that he is not just a daddies boy
Come on W give me direction
A lady from the TV station next door
Sticks her microphone in my face
Like some modern day phallic symbol
She asks me how it feels to be American
The only reply I can muster is:
“I am HUMAN and I need to be loved
Just like everyone else does.”
This monster was spawned in November
Our Supreme Court nurtured it
Our voters robbed…American voices muted
The legacy lives on.
Commercialism
Capitalism
Montheism—only if his name is Jesus though
These are the drugs that get pricks high.
Not in our names, the victims say
Fuck the victims our monster says.
Our generation, sold out
to the lies of AOL-Time Warner
To Viacom
To Turner Broadcasting
To Rupert Murdock
We gather together to discuss our
favorite Fox Anchor.
Our generation, desperately searching
We are the muted generation
Silenced by lusts, lies, lunacy
We desperately search for our voice
For our Ginsberg
For our Kerouac
For our Burroughs
I have no Carl Solomon to dedicate my words to,
Though I have seen “the best minds of my generation
Destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical, naked.”
American boys bleeding in Baghdad
I see it every night
It’s the worlds greatest reality TV show
Who needs Simon…who needs Trista?
We only need War!
We only need Peter Arnette and Geraldo.
Aren’t these GI’s the ultimate American Idols?
Isn’t this the ultimate Fear Factor?
Survivor:Baghdad; churning out more widows
To replace Trista on the Bacherlotte
ABC must be thrilled
Reality for a reality starved nation
Reality void in our schools, our government
Our culture, our country
Somehow I know there’s more than a flag and a crown.
My dissent indicts me, fettered by the chains of fascism
Repressed
Oppressed
And Suppressed!
I press on, searching for an end to the apathetic, plastic smiles
Bitchy, little Bible beaters, beating down your back.
Fear and insecurity drive these animals
To make a misery out of humans life.
My soul polluted by their racist, homophobic, misogynic manifesto
The theatre, my sanctuary…I go there to cleanse myself
To expunge the evils they have tainted me with
They tell me of the American Dream
Even more lies to complicate a convoluted life
Fables of success and prosperity
Promised as inherent, intrinsic rewards
For those who devote their life to hard work, liberty, justice and ever important pursuit of happiness
Happiness?  HA!
What do they know of happiness?
Happiness is not obedience
But now, thanks to the November’s monster
These people control my life
Filling our court’s, our congress
Their pockets
We live in an age where progress is equated with evil
Regression is the goal of our generals
They tell us not to forget
And we won’t
For just as November spawned the monster
November can slay it as well.