Sunday, November 9, 2003

A nice little poem.

I
tears are always crying
tears are always crying

the cry of the planet
the cry of the planet

tears are always crying
the cry of the planet
tears are always crying

an introspective
view of slaughter
in the niceities of the
open air
offers me a nice view
of the sky's carrion
and cadaver's care.

the planet is moaning
the planet groans.

dead men wander
in the fields
of corn.
children of the corn
and children of the planet.

they all groan together
they all moan.

tears are always crying
tears are always crying

the cry of the planet
the cry of the planet

tears are always crying
the cry of the planet
tears are always crying

trying to bury
what's been destroyed
in ashes
too dead
and too devoid
of emotions.
the insipid taste
offers me a nice skull
full of leeches that call
and maggots
eating it all.

tears are streams
in a mountain
and tears are dreams
in their hearts.
burying it all
in its substance
and part.

water is devoid of form
an escaper of death
with its wet breath.

tears are always crying
tears are always crying

the cry of the planet
the cry of the planet

tears are always crying
the cry of the planet
tears are always crying.

II

the sky is always full
and open and hued gold.
rich in value.

the sky has teeth
that aren't even there
clouds the prickle skin
and little hair.

one day it will blacken
with smog.
one day it will gouge you
with sticks.

it's sharper every day
eating.
feasting on nausea.
asphyxia.

the taste is good to its mouth.
and as it blisters
and as it pusses
one day its mouth will shut.

the sky is always full
but not forever.
and not never.

let us breathe the open air
as we can.

III

urbanity is in the hospital
as a car changes lanes.
the mechanic wizard
of its age.

i see its metal heart
in its chest.
that engine the sputters
like all the rest.

mechanical beetles
that scurry the bones
on narrows and straights.
this is the world alive.
this is the world died.

gasoline like lice
crawling in veins
the ribs that need punching
for getting more and more depraved.

the price for a gallon
inflates like a balloon
smushed hard
and cradled in a cocoon.

the greenness of the money
like the hair of trees.

it is growing but crashing.

when it shall end
it shall end.

IV
a grave in the woods
where children play.
the place where
death played a game.

russian roulette
with no gun
nor bang.
but with
god's name.

jesus some said,
and christ even as well.

the martyr
of hell.

V
what is left to cry
and why?

for such a fickle thing
as life
has its own eyes.

the cry of the planet—
the sputtering beetles—
the greenness of money—
a grave in the woods—

the sky is always
full of woe.

water is always flowing
in our veins.

and sometimes we sweat
and sometimes we bleed.

but other times
we cry what weeds.

to die or live
is not the question
but rather,
it is to escape death
with our machinity.

build forth—build grand—
let us breathe as we can.
for there is a grave in the woods
of us all—

that place where our hearts
shall always lie
and always beat.

and let our hearts be strong
where we belong.
let us know
that life is short.

...

blood on the tracks
that falls on the steel
and is ugly, and beauty
and so free.

blood on the tracks
that melts from my hands
and is full of sweat, and moist
and so smooth.

blood on the tracks
staining all them away
like rabbits, running away,
through their fields
and scampering.

expose
destroyed and dead.
limb by limb
and two by two
we all go to the tracks
and slit our wrists.

in the host of hands
as the train runs by
they put their hands out
in bleed.

in the host of hands
as the train runs by
on all its steam
there isn't anything
but passing.

and dreams will rape you
and dreams will hug you.
and rope will bind you
and rope will hug you.

but that steel is still there
and the tracks still dripping
and the hands still slitting.

the blood on the tracks
that bob dylan knew.
and the blood on the tracks
which is you and i and all.

wll you come through?
will you be cut too?

the train
shall keep going.
and the tracks
shall keep there.

and what happens
will stain our eyes.
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