More Poetry Brute

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More Poetry Brute

St Valentine's Day

 cold bullets of rain

ecstatic static on the radio

abstract thrill of romantic songs

vicarious moans

misty roses

melancholy Chet Baker

my funny Valentine

saxophoned out of temporal reality

whispering highway nearby

late night BART train sound

hive-like midnight

tomorrow over-rushes

the saint's feast day

love is distant omnipresent

held  aloft in one's faith

joy in one's self  all life

pervasive humor

suffice in the void

between

 

 

 

 

 

One great auric cloud

with a setting sun within it

a fairytale lantern

coming toward me

others rise up as well

in classical gestures of defiance

aereopterix gulls

reweave the tarnishing fabric

the iconic sun gives in to

grey wall of storm

subsuming the Maxfield Parish sky

neglible difference made

to the whirling acrobats

 

the sky the sky

I have a lot of sky

 

 

 

 

 

 

The tide went out and did not stop

Everything we left on the bottom

came back out to shame us

Then the water all came back at once

and it didn't end at the shore

 

Broke at the Altamount pass

and shot through the Caldicott tunnel

Alameda remained underwater

Oakland became its estuary

With high rise mirror buildings

remnants emerging at shoulder length

Seagulls adjust albino raccoons

expected as much

Scavengers came in rowboats

to salvage all that floats

Clocktower goes dark at moonrise

The stars reconnect like ferris wheels

Whales arrive out of curiosity

Too many fish in the sea

All of us eating each other

Kites comprised of sea foam

mount the breeze

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The green hills of now

host stones of forgetfulness

oncoming cloudscapes

 

 

 

 

Winter night of rain

last Fall wildfire smoke snuffed me

chilly wind and rain

 

 

 

 

 in the wind and rain

passersby seen from inside

 my dry windowpane

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The universe is not big enough

for the two of us

 

 

I'm sensual but deep

you dig your own grave

if you go too deep

 

 

If I sleep now

when I awake again

it will be raining

 

 

 

 

The Pit and the Razor

when the very last stroke

scraped my poor throat

 

 

 

 

 

 

I decided

I don't want to hear

what the shitheads

of the world

have to say

 

 

 

 

 

Danger of spending too much time

in the backyard of the mind,

Hours spent idling

in the attic of memory,

The quicksand of

old photographs,

Each turn of the hourglass

may be one's last

 

 

 

 

 

1980

 

A swanky shop used as a polling place

on Post street San Francisco

We came over to vote against Reagan

Where we used to live

where we were still registered

though moved across the bay

On the way back polls still open

the public address voice

of the BART train

in the tunnel under the bay

informed us that Carter

had just conceded the election

at the exact point

of no return

 

 

 

 

 

 

inner radiance

the perpetual sunrise

I sometimes forget

when I stare too long

in the dark pool of myself

light coming on

the happiest day of my life

 

 

 

 

 

Alone between di Chirico buildings

Sunny chilly empty streets

lone figures walk slowly and savor it

A place with less wind

beside the floating lighthouse

the wind in scintillating

reflections on the estuary

clarity of Winter

the sun not weary on my eyes

A long freight train

sounds its deafening horn

Freight cars with graffiti

ten feet tall

Others with fresh red lumber

from forests north of here

tanks tanks tanks

helicopter passes over me

like an unattended thought

National holiday

without joy or purpose

None can celebrate presidents now

People in sleeping bags and refuse

doze on sunlight sidewalks

seek refuge and shelter

few look in their direction

 

 

Highgate cemetery in London 

Some ghoul attacked the grave marker
of economic theorist Karl Marx
I was there many years ago now
a cadre of Chinese Marxists that day
made the pilgrimage as well
Everyone was quietly respectful

Karl Marx bones lie
a-moldering in the grave
Karl Marx'  bones lie
a-moldering in the grave
Workers of the world
remain in chains, remain enslaved

 

One wind made me stop and spin
made me hide in my hood
in a Chinatown neighborhood
Youth society in dessert shops
anywhere out of the high rise
every port in the storm

No take no bills no more
at the bizarre pharmacy
 closes on Saturday afternoons
But a stable mailbox
and no one begs for money
though they let people sleep
on these mean streets

A sidewalk along a wall
has the stored possessions
of the absent dispossessed
The self-sustained camp in tents
under the infernal overpass
where the State in its fairness
no longer forbids the poor to sleep






Occult Scatology


He complained to the city
that the house across the street from him
neglected their gardening
Wild trees and plants were an eyesore
But his neighbor was a witch
and put a sore curse on him
That the next time he moved his bowels
he would not be able to stop

The next morning he entered
his bathroom at his regular hour
Copious continuous excreta
soon filled the commode
What did I eat he wondered
He tried flushing in flux
but after two successful whirl
it soon stopped shut
the steady shift of ejecta continued
across his sink instantly filled
he resumed his enforced extrusion
into his shower bath

Sweating he soon had to
tug the shower's glass door shut
to contain the swelling mass
of firm heavy dejecta
In frantic desperation at last he
climbed on a hamper opening
the laundry chute to his basement
 to crap down its chasm
By dark he had filled the basement
and the crawl space beneath
with this terrifying ejectamenta

At last in shame
mortification and depletion
he fainted and fell over
expiring in the end
of dehydration



Epilogue

Sufficient structural damage
made repair out of the question
His estate was happy to have
 the lot filled in and bulldozed
No buyer ever showed interest
and the place became overgrown
a arboreal glade with animals
herbs and birds
with incredible mushrooms
The lady across the street
seemed more than content
with her new view
with her new neighbors










Rainy escalator
in impoverished Oakland
a wet dollar bill

February 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

Academy Fight Song

Academy Fight Song:

RAY's Top Ten Films of 2018

with desultory commentary

Wow, what an underwhelming year in film.

None of these films even approach my all time top film list

I saw a total of 11 films so fortunately

the embarrassingly schlocky The Meg didn't have to make this list.

It had a giant shark eat a whale but the greatest special effect

was the hero wearing only a towel in a contrived Chinese meet cute

So here they are not in any immutable order

but pretty much best to worst

 

 

 

Sicario

This was bad mojo but had edgy excitement I crave

Feeds the border security crisis myth but there is no doubting

the murderous excesses of both Mexico and of law enforcement

 

 

Mary Poppins
 

A great new portrayal of Mary by Emily

less impressed by Lin-Manuel Miranda

stagey acting with the high eyebrow eye rolls

A few clunky scenes such as acrobatic bikes

or a hoary music hall bombast

but some genuine elation and stoniness

to suit my stonedness

 

 

 

Mission Impossible: Freefall

 

Nobody has less interest in Tom Cruise than myself

and it's somewhat piteous to see someone of his age

acting the human super hero but between his cool nemesis

and the breathtaking cinematic effects it is a hellish fun ride

The helicopter take-over scene is pure adrenaline

 

 

 

 

 

VICE

 

I have to applaud anything that calls attention

to war and torture criminal Dick Cheney

authoritarian surveillance traitor

 Bale's impersonation actually lacked Cheney's angry

spleenful contempt for the disenfranchised collateral damage

Some egregiously poor taste at times as well

 

 

 

First Man

 

Shake and bake astronauts led a grueling life

rather dull a lot of the time the family

neglect point made again and again

I didn't dig his smarmy best friends acting

but Ryan does fairly well if too introspective

for verisimilitude but after a lot of grim

realistic hardware filming the actual

moonwalk IMAX kicked in like acid

over hashish...per force the climax

was brief but highly rewarding

 

 

 

Mandy
 

Druggy over the top splatter flick yet somehow

intriguing and disturbing in a good way

The Manson family cult leader, the psycho granny

and Mandy herself are all played by quality

English and Irish actors

and Cage is a wonder to behold

 

 

 

 

Green Book

 

It might have been daring in the 1960s

Amusing and not without kicks

 

 

 

Overlord

 

The taking of a death weapon experiment citadel
protected by Nazi zombies

The working title was Overkill

But I suppose it's what it takes to up

the shock and gore quotient

Sort of fun but not mentally  healthy

 

 

 

Black Panther

 

I found this so forgettable I forgot

it was a 2018 film

Last time I go to any Marvel etc

superhero movie whatsoever

As far as it's message I would say

it is escapism take to the level of pandering

Africans had all the wealth and technology all along

but they knew if they used it to help the diaspora

colonists would come and take it

 

 

 

 

BlacKKKlansman

 

Too bad a competent director didn't make this

story it had possibilities

Spike movies as hard as one wishes for him are generally
on the level of farce.
One could accept the cheesy cartoonish acting of his
early indie work but it's of a piece throughout his career.
All the opportunities for suspense or depth
are squandered to make simplistic jokey points

 The litany of what's wrong is topped by the ridiculous
Klan characters: never frightening although
one guy chews the scenery ineffectually acting psycho
while the other chubby one isn't sure if he's drunk or
retarded and is provided as a white Stepin Fetchit
It's an insult to the audience really
and the scene of the fat lady trying to plant a bomb
is so poorly filmed as to be incoherent
Not showing chaos being chaotic
as she dumbly tries again and again to shove it
through a too small mail slot
A mess from start to finish
Two good points: the scene with the black ideologue
giving a fiery speech was electrifying cinema
even as it made me squirm;
and the militant black girlfriend
was highly attractive, charming and sweet.
Like everyone else except for Adam Driver
she couldn't particularly act though

Now one hears Spike attack The Green Door
which certainly had thin sterotypes in the
the white Southerner scenes
But it also had some genuine film acting
and a palpable screenplay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry Brute

 

Poetry Brute

 

 

Bend back the phone poles

prop up the collapse of reason

such forces are relentless

like the old cemetery

coming through the brick wall 

of subterranean café in Cairo

the disinvited dead

who used to come here for coffee

an arm and a leg protrude

through a moldy fissure

 

One examines the odd newspaper

carriages come up to the boardwalk

cars pass by chains on their wheels

 

Extreme cold moves eastward

over the Alleghenies

and the Adirondack chairs
frozen in the petrified patios
of summer long lost

Shutdown it's hard to restart
frozen pipes bankrupt gas and electric
fraud goes to the top and doesn't stop
a hole in the world opens wide
Fobs stop working in Canada
flaming railroad tracks in Chicago
 

Force fields unknown

introduce themselves

all agreement declared null and void
black hole at the galaxy center
whatever dimension you follow

I summon the shake and bake astronauts
Floating eyeballs blandly
cross the Van Allen belt
insect defense warning
evanescent amphibians

Sea surges extinguish
the burning sphinx
frost quakes the fracked-out planet
network battle for dominance
school closures jack knife no mail







Gusty clouds open
to an epic painting sky
high-flown gulls lace through





a candles are urgent
dreamt it was a tall flame
a hoar-frosted bottle





Made myself a cyclone of love
like a snow cone
 if none avail themselves of it
perhaps it's for the best




as the end of the experiment draws near
one looks for the things one holds dear
status homes and automobiles
don't count yet seem real to us
I walked in trees and clouds
places where things weren't loud
now all my ties are spiritual
at the end of the earthly road
When one's burden is too heavy
one shrugs off one's load of woe




lights in the puddles stipple
all night in the rain
cars whisper by closed windows
in the astonishing mundane rain
a chill wind blows through the flags
the sky tumbles this way from the sea

through the primordial golden gate
past this or that landmass
imaginings of new life
on St Brigid's day
life begins in the rain









Raindrops drum louder
ridiculous crescendo--
Chinese light fireworks









effortless roses from the center of speech
sleepless sleep from beyond the beyond
 the bed is a floating world
of procreation and mortality
railroad tracks circling back
in winter one remembers dreams





Seems like my battery
gets so discouraged
it won't recharge






A cloud armada
spray of crows over the garden
people in the park








I'm too nice for this world
rotten as I am

 

February 2019