poMotion poetry

Posts Tagged ‘anarchy

Ode to the beautiful

with 2 comments

thank you God, or Shiva
for uniting and creating

than you Kali
for destroying

thank you mom
for teaching

thank you friends
for comfort

thank you
for the dance, the game, the adventure, the bouncing tigers, the hidden dragons, the falling leaves, the growing flowers, the flying insects, the confused pets, the missing links, the ugly, the misshaped, the intervals of pain and pleasure, the fact that there are no facts, the first the last the middle in no particular order.

Thank you Beauty
for you are

and for that I admire you

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Written by lickmypoetry

May 20, 2011 at 2:33 pm

Posted in poem, poetry, Random

Tagged with , , , , ,

Work in progress

with 4 comments

I have sat in noisy rooms of telephone wire begging ghosts for pennies
I have hauled ass through cars and pedestrians honking   charging with flaming red sauce meant for upper floor apartments
I have gotten drunk and drove top speed down US 36 vomiting out the window crying

I locked my self in bedrooms, bedrooms, bedrooms staying one step ahead of the on coming onslaught of company
went dancing but ended up making out at a bus stop, lost on new adventures
been broken by the glowing howling fuck called love
but was stupid enough to do it again

I have thought and wandered…
why
what if
only to wake up sweaty in a puddle
totally lost on acid in 99% humidity not sure if it was raining or not, worried that they would know:
what if I had no job and woke at ten to a cheerio’s bong?!
what if I tossed out all my books for class because I realized they had never seen the things they claimed to explain?!
what if I stayed up all night reading anarchist lit discovering that I was an anarchist all along

Once as a kick I worked for two years in a ballpark
hotdogs beer pretzels
the repeated remarks about how much this costs or how much that costs while throwing money at me
I winked as I shoved their money in my pocket
this place pulls in thousands a night they won’t miss a few hundred, I consoled myself while smoking my menthol cigarette

then while delivering in a red toy car, I peddled round disks of Italian ‘pride’ to the mansions where they kept their money tight and under surveillance
and laughed, as only the poor can laugh, at their stupidity

in rented vans I have seen corn fields, flashing police car lights and snow
jumping out to put on snow chains only to discover we don’t know how to put on snow chains
fumbling around with frozen hands while wiping snow from the Japanese instructions
but not caring, knowing this is the best trip I have ever taken
sleeping on the floor of an abandoned theater full of history and coughing and groaning
smiling radiantly
finally to wander to the stage full of electricity
but instead I watch the fog roll over the hill in rising crescendos

have seen perfect sunrises that seem to last an eternity while cheering on the dawn like pagans
in drunken rituals of debauchery
to arrive home beaten and tired but ready to howl at the moon if need be

called senators and congressman, high, demanding equal treatment
shouted from rooftops and into forests about my problems, national problems, rational problems, irrational problems
seeing no one listened I crouched in the corner and smoked

jacked off to illustrations of Molotov cocktails believing myself to be radical
just as the books told me I would
became who they said I would be when I swore I would be anything but

Written by lickmypoetry

April 29, 2011 at 9:08 pm

Posted in poem, poetry

Tagged with , , ,

It’s not the size that matters, it is how you use it

with 3 comments

It’s not the size of your brain that matters it is how you use it
do you ever think about magic
or math
or the place where they converge and condense into something solid
like the rain drop on my finger, condensed out of thin air
hydrogen oxygen hydrogen, air, water bonded just so

it’s not the size of your wallet that matters it is how you use it
like Andrew Carnegie
that pinkerton-hiring, union-busting, steel-baron, capitalist
gave money to the arts and music, gave us the “Hall”
or Peter Kropotkin
the anarchist prince who reminded us
from his seat of power (freely held)
“anarchy does not mean no rules, it means no rulers”

It’s not the size of your time that matters but how you use it
all day shut in watching the city drive through puddles
wondering, writing
engaging in projects freely
meditating on
the ace of cups
active female power, root of the power of water
little bits of chemical attraction

by Brian Feist

Written by lickmypoetry

April 12, 2010 at 1:01 pm

Posted in poem

Tagged with , , , , ,

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