December 12th, 2011

red penguin of doom

"And what rough beast, its hour come round at last..."

O Superman. O judge. O Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad.
O Superman. O judge. O Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad.
Hi. I'm not home right now. But if you want to leave a message,
just start talking at the sound of the tone.
Hello? This is your Mother. Are you there? Are you coming home?
Hello? Is anybody home?
Well, you don't know me,
but I know you.
And I've got a message
to give to you.
Here come the planes.
So you better get ready. Ready to go.
You can come as you are, but pay as you go.
Pay as you go.

And I said: OK. Who is this really? And the voice said:
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
This is the hand, the hand that takes.
Here come the planes.
They're American planes. Made in America.
Smoking or non-smoking?
And the voice said: Neither snow nor rain
nor gloom of night
shall stay these couriers
from the swift completion
of their appointed rounds.

'Cause when love is gone, there's always justice.
And when justice is gone, there's always force.
And when force is gone, there's always Mom. Hi Mom!

So hold me, Mom, in your long arms.
So hold me, Mom, in your long arms.
In your automatic arms.
Your electronic arms.
In your arms.
So hold me, Mom, in your long arms.
Your petrochemical arms.
Your military arms.
In your electronic arms.
Isochronal Dreams

Awake #9 - on the threshold of a nightmare

THRESHOLD - (more R.S. Thomas)

I emerged from the mind's
cave into the worse darkness
outside, where things pass and
the Lord is none of them.

I have heard the still, small voice
and it was that of the bacteria
demolishing my cosmos. I
have lingered too long on

this threshold, but where can I go?
To look back is to lose the soul
I was leading upwards towards
the light. To look forward? Ah

what balance is needed at
the edges of such an abyss.
I am alone on the surface
of a turning planet. What

to do but, like Michelangelo's
Adam, put my hand
out into unknown space,
hoping for the reciprocated touch?

.....Madman imitates the Christian author, (for a change!): "I emerged from the CFS cave into the worse darkness inside, where things pass, and the Help is none of them... Actually, I've had a rough day/yesterday, following the activity and nonsense of Saturday, of which I may post later. This aft/eve, I have been cleaning through the complete hurryCAIN MESS the self-appointed saintly-blamers let lose upon madmankind. (Blame you-self!) Btw - that's one reason I call the poetry series, "Awake," - as in: "left in A WAKE." Salvaged some things for neighbours/kids, me, recyclers. Much more tomorrow. Laundry is finally dry, and doesn't STANK this time. ta ta."