Archive for the poems 2002 Category

angels are not [appears in self-published book Chokehold]

Posted in New Poems, poems 2002 with tags , , , , on November 24, 2014 by GJK

grinning mouth of chaos,

alluring glass conduit to numb realms –

silver-lipped cherubs falling from acid sky

screaming, severed wings trailing behind –

silver-lipped cherubs impacting ground

splattering into bloody mounds of flesh

crawling with flies

angels are dark demons in disguise

gaping mouth of chaos,

clear glass circle of stinging poison

swallowing flesh and bone

grinding marrow to dust

snakes in the mouths of mute infants

bloody lips of chaos

curiously beautiful

as they kiss

the foreheads of pious traitors

angels are dark demons

vultures fill the boiling acid sky.



rev. 18JUN03


phantom [appears in self-published book Chokehold]

Posted in New Poems, poems 2002 with tags , , , on November 24, 2014 by GJK


everyone hates me they despise me i’m a joke to them

they all want to laugh cackle guffaw point at me giggling

they want to belittle me embarrass me harass me they all

think i’m useless a waste of flesh a waste of space

my vain scratchings are futile and infantile no one wants

to read my words they think i’m dumb i’m on to them!

i know i’m an alien i am aware

my world is small they all want to yell at me berate me

conspiracies everywhere complex plots to get rid of me

everyone is the enemy no one to trust that guy over there

works for the FBI why is he staring at me and writing down

little notes?  he wants to incarcerate me incinerate me

strap me in an electric chair everyone laughing and mocking

as i fry as my eyes melt i am small no hiding from them

they are everywhere they have cameras in my bedroom

nowhere to go no one to trust can’t trust myself

maybe i am really one of them


existence is a game meant to defeat me

people won’t ever understand me they want to

erase me forget me i am insignificant

they are laughing riotously they are so amused

i am worthless i am in pain

i am so full of loathing and disdain

i cannot bear it  –  paranoia  –




rev. 7DEC02

i am [appears in self-published book Chokehold]

Posted in New Poems, poems 2002 with tags , , , on November 24, 2014 by GJK

i am spiderwebs of memory and dream

wiped clean by broom of harsh reality –

i am rainfall soaking skin of human brethren –

i am lightning flash that burns retina –

i am cloudless night with starlight pinpoint sight –

i am thunderclap

thunder-god of electric nightmares –

i am poverty of soul –

i am bomber of sandy nations –

i am prayer-chant unanswered

incense burned, blood offered, unanswered –

i am water-bearer

illuminating human subconscious caverns –

i am song-singer

dawn bringer, light giver –

i am oceans swallowing continents –

i am hurricane

multi-headed leviathan –

i am thunderclap

thunder-god smashing ideologies –

i am proletariat raising calloused hands

in defiance of aristocratic violence –

i am eye of heaven –

i am divinity –

i am deity –

i am God

and i am nothing.




Posted in best of GJK, New Poems, no-mad poets, poems, poems 2002, poems 2014 with tags , , , , , , on September 16, 2014 by GJK


O! what drear, bleak, wretched savagery

of image or solidity


in the Womb of Night,

in the Grave of Day.

what life living unto living’s own

deathly way; scourge of man and woman

to shuffle, dim, alight, and strive to raise up

monuments of Divinity

rather than let the Divine live in

and through them,

but Time does crash and swell,

crush, surge, and purge intention

’til life does become bound and blinded

and action flails impotently

without desire or design.

the Masters of humankind,

the governors, the generals, the clergy,

do enshrine themselves in statues of stone

and brass and they shape their plaster walls

and wooden coffins to point precicely

to Martyrdom;

they rise up vulture-like to erect monoliths

of excrement that they would have us deify.

but O!  the masses scramble in rat-hole streets

burning to live one moment as humans,

but they are bent, brittle, spent,

beasts of burden for ideological-economic-fallacious machinery

while their infants weep

on soiled sheets

in shoddy cribs of splintered sticks

eating porridge from lead-poisoned spoons

as mothers make salt-soup with their own tears.

the tragic skylines of the world!

steel and glass pierce the clouds

edifices fling light wildly

obscuring the story-myths that are written there

every night and every season in the inky void.

these buildings assume majesty

but humanity chokes on the smoke

that billows all around these ant-hill-cities

that destroy truth and beauty of the

simplest and purest forms.

the horror!  great bridges spanning

churning polluted waters

and how many dead are there?  workers

forever entombed in concrete,

bodies without names, graves whose headstones

are the hood ornaments of a million brash, shiny cars

hurtling forward thoughtlessly,

cars with drivers that irreverently roar

and stomp upon the forsaken dead bones below them;

there are ghosts in the pavement beneath their wheels

and they have not a thought

for their repeated desecrations.


O nameless demon that doth curse

our infinite strivings,

taint our pure and innocent yearnings,

what blackened wings will next overshadow

our small intentions,

our elemental living,

our inventions of mental contortion

that allow slivers of prayerful hope

as we languish in the chains of Time?

what bird of terror will again tear at our livers,

spilling our shimmering viscera on burning sand?

war-machines and politics, border skirmishes,

imperial hubris and outright hatred,

disputed thought-systems that control the money-flow

disguised as arguments over Gods

and morals of archaic religions.

all of this is ultimately absurd.

a plague of ignorant violence

leads humanity toward an atomic death,

mushroom clouds and desolation will remain;

dominion over the earth passes then

to the beetles, until they too

develop the malicious intelligence

to annihilate themselves.



31AUG02, 1SEP02, 16SEP14




Posted in poems 2002 with tags , , , , , on September 24, 2010 by GJK

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.


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Posted in for Jingle et. al., poems 2002 with tags , , , , on September 20, 2010 by GJK

GJK poetry notebook

from June 2002 —





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


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Posted in best of GJK, for Blue Bike reading, poems 2002 with tags , , , , , , on September 8, 2010 by GJK

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


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



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