i am a caged animal

—

pacing the floor

of the food-room

but there is no two-legger

anywhere in sight

—

i pace with tummy rumbling

wondering where the giant people

have gone.

—

i do not know how long

it has been since they left

all i know

is my hunger

and, powerless to open

the food-jug,

i wait.

—

those giants never tell me

when they will return

they never tell me

much of anything

except

YOU’RE SO CUTE…

YOU’RE A SWEETIE, AREN’T YOU?

and WHY DO YOU KEEP FOLLOWING ME?

—

so i pace

and i wait.

—

i know i am loved

but i also know

i am caged.

—

silly two-leggers,

don’t they know

that i am hungry?

—

and then i hear the wall creak

and a fissure opens, widens,

and there they are

with bags full

of food.

—

my pacing ceases

and i let forth

a tremendous MREEEOWWWW

as i scoot toward

the empty bowl.

—

GJK

29SEP10

12:59am

 

a schism of Self

—

it has got to be coffee and cigarettes

or yoga

it sure as hell

can’t be both.

so

here i am

another

dichotomy

—

another schism

of Self.

—

nights and days diverge

rather than merge together

harmoniously

—

my left foot doesn’t know

what the right foot does,

legs and arms

and eyes and lungs

flail and clamor

—

i have failed to become

a fully integrated being

—

ho hum

hum drum

—

this evening is

cafe and smoke,

what tomorrow

might bring

i

myself

do not

know.

—

GJK

28SEP10

—

inspiration strikes

—

crack of aluminum pops silvery bright

crack of illusions pops moonlit blight

—

crack of thunderous thought smacks of

brilliance and light.

—

this is the idea that began with me

many cycles ago

many moons before

i even knew

who i was.

—

it was first in Oktober

when inspiration struck

—

it was first in December

when i learned what it meant

—

to be in love.

—

it was first in my youth

that i learned to put

pen to paper

it was my first revolt

to craft poetry from despair.

—

and now

love and poetry

is everywhere

—

even in this sickly glass

of tepid brew.

—

GJK

28SEP10

3:33am

—

Krabbykott

PR Wars Continue Over Holiday Weekend

by gjk, 7 Sept. 2010; Marquette, MI –—

Local U.P. mining company, Krabbykott, expressed concern over the Labor Day weekend that Bee-Pee, a foreign oil giant, is still monopolizing media coverage of global ecological disasters. A spokesperson for Krabbykott said on Saturday that “our company is doing everything it can to raise our profile from that of ‘an environmental nuisance’ to ‘truly mind-bogglingly-incompetent.’” When asked who Krabbykott considered to be their corporate role-model for such an up-tick in notoriety, the spokesperson responded by saying to this reporter, “Bee-Pee, obviously… those guys really know their way around a U-Toob channel and network news sound-bites, and they sure as shit got one hell-of-a chain of command. Boy, when they screw the pooch they sure go all the way!” (It should be mentioned here that Krabbykott has recently purchased stock in a Bee-Pee subsidiary that specializes in petroleum-based lubricants, whose motto is “GET CORN-HOLED WITH SLIP ‘N’ GLIDE, FOR THE PET LOVER IN YOUR LIFE.”) When prompted, the Krabbykott PR wizard could neither confirm nor deny whether or not corporate policies included such things as corn-holing, or being corn-holed, by ones pets.

visionary

—

oh utopia! where are you?

—

i actually believe the dream is possible,

but there are such immense political machines

in the way of such glorious change…

—

if only we could tear everything down

and start anew — renew the spirit of equality,

destroy the economic institutions

that keep the masses in bondage,

end religious warfare, instill goodwill

and create a true brother-and-sister-hood

of humankind that disregards old borders

and outdated ideologies

—

oh utopia! can it ever be?

—

oh utopia! i insist that you answer.

　

– — –

GJK 2JUN02

– — –

Jimbo

　—　

All you wanted was a bag of chips but what you got instead was a

scorcher of a migraine. You made the short walk to the convenience store

on the corner without incident, but on the way back you got accosted by

Jimbo. Again. That drunk prick is a constant source of consternation for

you, what with his propensity for unprovoked confrontation. This is the

fourth time this month that he’s ruined your evening, and you’ve had

enough.

—

This time your mistake was to have the gall to be smoking a cigarette as

you passed by his house, and there he was, drinking on the porch and

drunkenly drawling HEY MAN DO YOU HAVE A SMOKE FOR ME, as if you and he

were friends, or as if you were a vending machine. You are definitely

neither of those things, but in the spirit of the brotherhood of man you

went ahead and said YEAH MAN HERE YOU GO. And that moron Jimbo, that

drunken lout, went ahead and set about the serious business of lighting

the cigarette with the wrong end in his mouth and the filter sputtering

a pathetic flame that stank to high heaven. So you said, as calmly as

you could, YOU’RE LIGHTING THE WRONG END. Jimbo stared, uncomprehending,

and tried again to light the filter. By now your fur was up and all you

wanted to do was either walk away or smash some sense into Jimbo’s

addled brain.  You chose to walk away and you figured you were doing the

right thing, but no, you weren’t. You knew you did the wrong thing when

you heard the word DICK spill from that stupid fucker’s mouth. You gave

him a smoke, you tried to help him out, and this was your reward…

DICK.

—

By the time you got to your own porch the migraine was in full swing. It

is now hours later and still all you can hear clearly amidst your throng

of thoughts is that one derisive syllable. DICK. You don’t know what to

do, so you do nothing. You sit alone in the dark and wait for the echoes

to cease.

—　

　

GJK

22SEP10

needful

—

GJK poetry notebook

from June 2002 –

　

—　

needful

　

my guitar sings songs of dissonant dissatisfaction

its strings vibrate disconsolate, morose tunes

my hand strums a somber rhythm

and fingers fret agonized chords

–

i need a new song

a melody strong and hopeful

harmony filled with peace.

i need a rhythm for the living

not one dead and stuck in defeat.

–

my guitar sings songs of lonesome detachment

it rings with sounds of failure and futility

my hands are stuck in a pattern of sadness

and my ears are filled with brooding.

–

i need a new song,

an energy full of bliss

i need to hear a masterpiece

to take me away from this

away from madness, away from sad.

–

i need a new song,

a melody strong and hopeful

a resonance firm

and pure

　

– — –

GJK 30MAY02

– — –

no-name poem-ring

——————

no-name-poem-ring

　

[dj spooky is flowing from the speakers]

——————

within the pen-named ego-aura of gjk

i let it all go

i let it all float away

there’s that tenor sax i’ve been wanting

there’s that beat man

that beat man

that beat woman over there

knows what is what

and what ain’t worth her time

there’s that bass that upright bass

those finger-plucked notes of tones

of tomes of pomes of books of jazz

yas yas yas

there’s a nod to the jack kerouac-e

(hear it as jack care-oh-wacky)

madness spookiness angels and light

and dark and paved moons of planets of suns

of systems of galaxies

holy moses holy cow holy god holy human holy

john coltrane was right

‘n’ what i’m talkin’ ’bout is

outta this world

set the controls for

the heart of all hearts

the mythic hart of old

that cannot be slain by those arrows that

that blowhard shakespeare was writing about

oh what am i saying middle english is oww-right

but i am here and now motherlovers

brotherlovers sisterlovers fatherlovers

lovers

lovers

and then silence and the knowing that

there too is darkness and death and all that

horrid chaos of greed and

oh shit here i am reeling myself in again

i’m a fish on my own hook

fighting

fighting for breath

this isn’t a joke this is me dreaming

inside

inside the words the type-e-writer

the visual prattling the poetic imaginings

of a vagabond-turned-home-body

oh my people

can you see me

can you hear

annie i think this is the poem you’ve been waiting

for me to write

all the stuffing-down of laughter

the choking-back tears

the visions the realities it was compressed

for so long all that putrid self-loathing has lifted

the smog is separate from the fog

the mist the voice of tree

and corn and blacktop and oh hell

every single thing in all my living years has led me

here

the music is long gone

i am utterly alone in this room

my back aches but that’s nothing

it’s not like i’m bearing a child anytime soon

yes bless them

but back to me

and my muse here in the next room

my lover-healer

the one that married me

here is my dreaming

my vision of the world

oh it’s way too big to ever see all of it

those astronauts amaze but what about the deep

the cavernous seas

now there’s that beat i see maus nodding

in time

out of time

i’m two years late

and ten dollars short

my pits stink

sweat drips down my back

but my crack is safe

me drawers will absorb that salt

from that noodle

from that place where people go to eat

to not die

thanks be to the cooks and ovens

of the world of this here state

of this town

and now i slow down

been holdin’ my breath forgot to breathe damnit

hold on easy now boy

what am i

a horse

no

i be a water carrier.

you thirsty you call me

be you woman or man or canine or feline

call on me the water is clean

all praises be

the water is clean.

——————　

GJK

5 AUGUST 2010, 3:04am

my only problem today

—

is tryin’ to figure a way

to eradicate this headache

this head

ache

i’ve had for the past six hours

six weeks

six months

—

well, you get where

this is going.

the coffee did its job

this a.m.

but now all i can think

is

smoke another cigarette

that oughtta help

yeah sure it will

until twenty minutes later

when the ice-pick in my brain

starts to wriggle and writhe

again

today

for the umpteenth time.

—

me brain says

smoke up, dude

as me lungs clamor

oh no, not again…

he’s doing it again

—

and this duality inside of myself

is, of course, the source

of the headache

in the first place.

—

so, pardon me…

today’s second dose of coffee

is ready

and with a steaming cup

i will go out

into the night

to cause some pollution

all on my own

—

GJK

13SEP10

haiku…

—

haiku1.9-1-2010.GJK

—　

coffee gurgle PLOP

tummy revolts against heat

cool brew soothes turmoil

—

haiku2.9-13-2010.GJK

—

TV nazi man

warmonger propagandist

your desserts will come

—

 

if i had to define Africa

 

in three words or less

i would say

—

imperialism gone awry.

—　

if someone said

no, try again,

i would say

—

birthplace of coffee.

—　

if someone said

okay, but what else?

i would say

—

birthplace of humanity.

—　

if someone said

how about defining Africa

with two words

i would say

—

Our Mother.

—　

if someone

cut out my tongue

and said

now define Africa

—

i would spell

with my finger

in the sand

the word

SOURCE.

—　

i would be stricken

i would be mute

and i would be

correct.

—　

GJK

8SEP10

phantasm

—

gotta get past the world

surpass the horizon

gotta fly away

on wings

i suppose

i must summon

from the beyond

—

gotta leap to the moon

and further

amidst the stars

gotta mechanize

a way

an alternate

dimension

gotta fabricate

a new infinity

in which

to reside

—

gotta dive

into the deep

gotta mutate

gotta dig to the core

become a molten being

summon forces

that will reform

the earth

—

gotta get past this world

gotta invent genius

and dream that

everything is

golden.

　

– — –

GJK 2JUN02

– — –

i got

—

one turntable

two dub decks

three CD players

and a super-fly

computer to boot

—

i am

all that

and a bag of chips.

kettle chips, to be precise

—

and this poem is nothing

if not concise.

—

it’s time

for the digital

haus-party

—

who’s awake

who’s ready

to throw down?

—

it’s time to let loose

it’s a tome, one page

each hour.

—

i got one seed –

—

do

you

got

the flowers?

—

peace!

i’m out…

—

　

　

GJK

7SEP10

4:10am CDT

even her

—

liars.

psychos.

doctors.

they are all guilty.

—

guilty of misleading

everyone.

even her.

even my lovely

lovely wife

has been

beguiled.

—

he’s not right

they all said

about me.

he has an illness

called bipolar

BOLLOCKS!

IT’S CALLED

MELANCHOLIA

and there is nothing wrong

with that.

we all hurt

we all have problems

so what if mine

appears in the DSM catalogue

of misnomers …

—

phuck you, doc.

i’m fine.

and thanks fer all the drugs.

—

you’re a doctor

you’re a dealer

and i use the zy-prex

recreationally.

it’s phun to trip

so which one of us

has been mislead?

—

ah-hah

ha ha ha

the joke

is on

you.

—　

　

GJK

6SEP10

what sarcasm is

—

and what it isn’t.

—

first, don’t take it too seriously

—

but don’t forget that there is

a seed of truth

behind every

joke

and

a joke is

what sarcasm is.

—

what it isn’t

is

a good way to save the world

a good way to communicate with

family

elders

shrinks

doctors

clergy

philosophers

and anyone else

who doesn’t “get it” –

—

there you go, this is

a joke

too

—

this didactic-poemy

is just

is simple

is sarcasm

—

so don’t believe

a single word.

—

believe them all.

—

now, just who

is joking

with whom?

 

—

GJK 5SEP10

—

calling all nomad poets

—

—

this is a continuation of “Plea”

(by me), which was published

 in the UW-Marinette Arts Journal

Northern Lights (2005)

—

—

　

 

peace

harmony

compassion

these are not words,

they are realities

we very much need

now and here

and always

and everywhere…

and here

is where i rant

against wrong-thinking,

the psycho-babel

that keeps us all

in fear

of everything

in distrust

of everyone

in loathing

of our selves

and here

is where

i begin

the letting go…

—

—　

　

mi madre,

that sage teacher

who i love

and respect

is, at times,

a hyper-attentive

alarmist

and this concerns

me

because she too

has been lied to

by the psycho-babel

establishment

and she, being a mom,

tends to over-react

every time i under-react

so, if we understand balance

and The Middle Way,

we should be able to

get together to

find the essential pivot

that will bring

peace-of-mind to bear

in our inter-connected

lives.

so here

is where we begin

with all of our lives

intertwined

manifesting harmony

which is

essence

of Tao…

—

—　

　

　

　

　

GJK

September, 2010

thirst, part two

—

d. wanders to the bathroom

and

the toilet-hiss is the venom

of angels

and the cheers

of the abyss

—

the wretched

morning birds are here,

twinkling outside

their impossible

dawn melodies.

—

GJK

2010

—