[Poetry], Black Champagne  Comments Off on Crosswinds
Sep 142011
The sails unsettle in the wind
Finding their invisible origins--

Small fear goes out along the lines
Tremulous to the masthead,

The masthead bound with iron
And set into the leaning keel

Translates each impulse into action:
To one action, always the same: forward!

Dead Odalisques

 [Poetry], Black Champagne  Comments Off on Dead Odalisques
Sep 142011
Snaffled cuffs link our hearts in chorus--
On baffled dream-seraglio of houris--
Oh never to awake from this bout of sleep
Though shadows squander themselves and sunlight creeps.

These eves are deep that shelter lonely eyes
Turned inward, bitter till self-horrified--
The odalisque tamed by dusky charms
Untongues the timid with her beckoning arms.

Daniel J. Weeks and Gregg Glory

Fake Eagles

 [Poetry], Black Champagne  Comments Off on Fake Eagles
Sep 142011
The Smithsonian's dusty trumped-up American Bald
Glares glass-eyed from its cement stem
Flightless adherent to its typeset caption
"This specimen typifies..."

White-cloth greatness fitted to a character-trait--
Gestures grand enough for "something"
Parodied into "plausibility."
                                        Daring airs
Are glass-encased, and grounded goes the mobile soul
Once limber and viscous as a spiky rose.

				        All's choral,
Collegial lean-togethers, mediocre ochers
Detailing a dulling sunset--
Not the hazardous edge of new dawn,
Clouds, clouds "by the skyful,"
The wee eye a-glitter, an observatory dome
              open to the cosmos
And more.

The great green agate door of Oz
Stands pried wide, stoppered open.
Shall we fall into the verdant velvets,
Eat the wheats sizzling in their millions?
Come, here's my hand,
		        toad-wet, willing--

Here's the heart-mouth pledge--
	and the plunge, the plunge
	that mimes the promise mum.

	Down we float
		careening reagents
	ripped to splinters
		and sailing anyhow onwards.

Congress sick with second guessing Jessies

 [Poetry], Black Champagne  Comments Off on Congress sick with second guessing Jessies
Sep 142011
Congress sick with second guessing Jessies
No firm hand on the tiller
No mettle in the men left at home
Only an orgy of angst
Belittlement of betters
Twist turn and angling for advantage
Small speech of exiting
No largesse of existing
No reasoning among the sissies
Just the vile knifefight for the voter.

The troubled insincerity of these actors in the round,
The corpulent self-indulgence of the American Left.

"The president proposes, the congress disposes."
Say the vivid idiots
          believing themselves
Meaty deities in monkeysuits.


 [Poetry], Black Champagne  Comments Off on Dim NIMN
Sep 142011
Saddam's boys, fed lion's hearts
And bad philosophy, were sent into the rape room
Under P.S. 106, Baghdad,
Same ground that saw a Ninevah arise
Same wide-eyed folks that made
A few of civilization's unending things,
Set golden bird upon a ruby bough to sing.

"Not in my name"
	shall we set, we
The people of Hamilton and Adams
Not for such names, nor for our own,
Forgotten since our civics' texts
Have gone to rot as assuredly as Rome's poems
Burned by Visigoths to watch
"Vandal Idols" on a commandeered TV
in the fumbled coliseum.

"Not in my name"
	shall these be set free.
Not by us, the people of Lincoln and Paine,
Not with our bullets of inalienable rights,
Nor our hatred of tyrants,
Not by our strength, our success,
Not by our sure hand in a selfish world,
Not by our open palm
	shall these be set free.

These same who crouched in a shit pit
Or were shot for sheer sport.
Power plus a few roaring lies
And arabist France is your firm friend,
Scoring oil off of marsh arabs' misery,
Breathing grievance and flattering tyrants
	alone in their ego-lovely
	palaces of misapplied plaster,
	walls caulked with exquisite fear,
	real memories of friends, father
	or sister suddenly dragged out at 1 AM
	and shoved into the State's Mercedes
	and returned in ribbons,
	eyeless, legless, earless, hymenless,
	or not at allÖ.
The fear of faces too used to fear,
Same faces Stalin made in Russian clay
Holding his neighbors' feet to the fire
Or cinching raw hands in unforgiving wire.
"Not in my name"
	shall these be made free.

Same Saddam, god-damn,
Who put a hit out on a retired president
And called Kuwait his "13th Province,"
Shattering desert quietude with lies,
Living detached as a NYT op-ed writer
From the eternal verities.

Same Saddam, god-damn,
Who paid suicide bombers' families to live on quince
And retire to palm-shaded villas
After sending Sonny on to see Allah;
Same suiciders who put a two-fer hole
In New York's presumptuous skyline:
Front teeth fell out square with 3,000 lives
As jerks in Jersey City cheered
And Palestinians rah-rahed in parade,
Making Gaza glamorous once again,
	full of light, full of hope, full of song,
As know-nothing Americans knew, just knew
It was all our fault anyway;
Not even giving gashed Jihadis
	credit for their kill, not really.

Same Saddam, god-damn,
Ö. I can't go on without respite, without tonic,
A cool cloth for my lips, hot cotton
Laid on my ears, much abused,
Carbon darkness for my eyes, my eyes
That see in seemless verity
One nation, under God,
Riddled with raconteurs of the Apocalypse
Who never missed a payment on their Saab.

Allah, Allah, Allah,
Forgive these few, these free,
These blind men holding diamonds
Who think they're weighted with bricks;
Forgive these few their compassionate disaster
Who see sorrow in a tyrant's swat,
How sad his up-bringing must have been;
Forgive these few their huddled asses
Who buy the pap and propaganda 
of the feckless press.

Allah, Allah, Allah,
Sear me with second-sight enough to see
What comes of free people with no will to be free;
Who shrinky-dink and containerize the globe
After pacifying panzered fascists,
Who set the Technicolor sights of Hollywood 
in every human eye
And take air-conditioned flights
To the winds' four corners
And hear half-good English spoken there
From some kid wearing Adidas
And yet do not believe
	Fallujah's on their subway stop
	or Kabul is come to Washington.

Forgive these few, O Allah.

Allah, Allah, Allah,
Walla walla walla

Red State Prayer

 [Poetry], Black Champagne  Comments Off on Red State Prayer
Sep 142011

Dear Lord, help the heathens to keep their federal mandates
off of my state. Please, Lord, let them
become aware that just because the federal penny flows from the blue states to
the red states that that does not give them the power to make us join their
progressive coalition of the bribed and the coerced. Please, Lord, let them blue staters realize
that before that federal penny flows from the blue states to the red states via
Washington D.C. that penny first flows from our backs to their banks. Please, Lord, I am tired of doing the bidding
of Lyndon Baines Johnson, and Hillary Clinton, and Ted Kennedy, and unelected
judges who pick up the legislative pen that able but lazy legislators have cast
aside in favor of windsurfing. Let not
the least accountable branch of government hold sway over the most
accountable. Oh, please, Lord, I beseech

How God Hates a Freeman

 [Poetry], Black Champagne  Comments Off on How God Hates a Freeman
Sep 142011
How God hates a freeman.
How suffering is his every rainbow
--Even when we poor ants
Find some infinitesimal way of being free
He sends a scourge, an insanity amongst us
            --Sudsy heads in turbans
            hard hands anxious to cruxify
            ready hammers and shiny nails
            suicide bombers in clean veils
            no dirt under their fingernails
            ready to make love to God

The God who, ironically enough,
Is killing us in black batches,
By blood-mouthfuls, killing
And shaming us with his sharp scourge
--so clean, so new--

To the Red Gates

 [Poetry], Black Champagne  Comments Off on To the Red Gates
Sep 142011
A bold bolt of rose lightning
Bids me sizzling its chosen bowman be,
    A filial Philoctetes
    Despite of our history.

So few know the maiming game
Half so well as swollen love can tell;

Knotted lots of condemned confederates
Go rolling down the slay-yard line,
Conveyered to red hell and devastation,
           What redeems the fugitive from his red pen?
(Funny, nes pas?)  How escape the mirrored Mall
    to slow roast in the hopeless Wilderness 

Monet's mash of fabulous figments
hand-ground to red renown....
Cezanne's carnival of pink icebergs
sailing house-high intra-Ardennes....
Beethoven's beaten TAA-DUMP,
or Baudelaire's lurid la-lahrrr....

All are the agony of gangsters
Throttled or thrilled by moment's one consciousness,
Exhorted from the dumpy swamp
That beats and retreats in the fetid chest--

O soully broken brothers!
Taken in angina and angst, past mists
To see pantsless God Our Father
And never again live well as worms.

His love has hoovered your harrowed bowels, 
His meaning's memes flay mincemeat from your lives, 
Embattled brethren of the happy pit, 
Giggling piglets skinned in velvets
Wanton wannabes
Voltaged with vim,
Summed nothings who see
The glory of Him.

Alpha and Omega, faith precedes
Phantom efficiencies of famine and feast, 
Trust in the somethings our nothings provide, 
Vomiting vacuums for lebensraums, 
Aching for spaces no spaceman divines,
Only    oh   aum   ah   oh   our   holy   um
Can freight the frigate
We sail to red gates
That frame the lonely bowman
Asleep in zero's nonman's land

 triggerfinger itched by lightning

Blind Homer

 [Poetry], Black Champagne  Comments Off on Blind Homer
Sep 142011
Blind Homer
           in his handicapped parking plot,
Driving eye-dog at the steel wheel,
Steel will in the passenger's seat--
           Homer who haunted the agora
           Shilling for shekels
                      his white whale tale.

Superman in his icy citadel
Pacing the slatted blanks
           that mirrored, then hid
His moroser meditations.

Soulful foreign exchange student
Putting on parsed phrases of a play:
           hanging a mirror-frame in
Audience made the mercury backing 
To a soul in self-discovery.