Posts for June 13, 2018 (page 3)

played at her funeral.  Only that song sung,
nothing more.

God put us here to have fun!

So we dressed you in a lemon drop
top from Mexico, una túnica solamente.

Placed a silvery jeweled tiara on your flaxen
hair ~ put sequined ruby slippers

on your feet ~played lullabies to a land
we had heard of and dared to dream.  We wished

upon stars ~ hoped you’d wake up where there are
no sorrows, no tears, only bluebirds flying.

Your troubles melted high above
the chimney tops ~ beyond the rainbow

where the clouds are far behind you.

                            (In Honor of my Mother ~ Jean Addington Adams ~ June 13, 2010)

i don’t think love is
what abraham had for isaac
but i know that it’s built on sacrifices 

O you downtrodden
Descendants of slaves
Offspring of the aboriginal
Do you smirk when we lie to ourselves
That you are innately Noble  

Vicious evil exists not only on the winning side
Obvious to all but the voluntarily blind
Blindness and lies might salve the shallow consciences
But the community gates remain locked after all

               Five have I slain today instead of him.
               A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!
                         Richard III, Act 5, Scene 4

After brutalizing our allies with cheery bonhomie,
he stands before a phalanx of American and North Korean flags,

Is greeted with “Good to meet you, Mr. President!”
and sweet-talked, “May I check out your Cadillac, the Beast?”

In return, Lonelyhearts makes gushing assertions of love,
at their lavish royal wedding,

presents Kim with a video of their happy life together
and gives away the kingdom.

I saw my teacher eat a worm
It gave me such a fright!
The slurping sound as she gulped it down
Kept me up all night!

I saw my teacher eat a worm
Covered in dirt and grime.
I tried to get my friends to look
But was sadly out of time!

I saw my teacher eat a worm.
She confessed. Said it was yummy!
How could you eat such a yucky thing?
It’s easy! It was a gummy! 

Note: These poems were originally written in Brazilian Portuguese and loosely translated into English for LexPoMo. The English versions are posted first to benefit this audience.

chomping grass and flowers
groundhog peers in the window
who is watching who  

mastigando grama e flores
marmota espiando na janela
quem está observando quem

* * * * * * * * * 

gunmetal gray clouds
ready to explode
goodbye sunny day

nuvens cinza parece uma arma
pronto para explodir
dia ensolarado, tchau

* * * * * * * * *

silver splits the sky
sheets of water tumble
necessary evil

prata rachando o céu
torrentes de agua caiu
um mal necessário

After you were gone
We ate cake and laughed. 
We brushed the crumbs
from our laps
leaving you behind
and grief ahead. 

I
The flame did not murder the king;
but,
it did set it into action.

II
Reaching
as tall as twice
my height, flames flew 
out of cardboard constricted
existence

III
The heat on your face as fire flickers
on embers openly
burning themselves out
with fervor–
this is what it is like to be kissed
by a flame.

IV
My aunt, burning brush,
in familial memory, got got
by gasoline
and flames licked
much of her skin.
I still stare at scars from skin grafts
sometimes.
What wounds are still there?

V
The contours of the flames,
exquisite silhouettes,
dance the runway of my eyes
before flickering out
of being.

VI
A flame
and its heat
are not the same.

everybody knows rock stars get to drink do drugs have sex with groupies
everybody knows addiction is as fundamental as learning the fret board
everybody knows pills and a bottle beside a 27year old singer is actuarial
everybody knows for every aging Keith there are a hundred dead Jimmies
everybody knows playing a different town every night is a human toll road

so rock and roll is popular with soldiers on the battle front
so music is the last to go when a teenager turns out the lights forever
so they call it Death Metal Black Sabbath The Grateful Dead
so people who by sheer luck make it long enough to be parents forbid rap
so years of a wall of Marshalls on 10 will replace hearing with tinnitus

just an old hippy ranting about Woodstock over and over
just the kind of thing nobody wants to hear about… nobody
just a voice in the wilderness one hand clapping on the dark side of the moon
just a way to rub shoulders with death and get used to the idea
just a lost dog trying to pick up the trail on a four-lane highway

I.
 
The civil air raid sirens signal
your breaching of the water. Helicopters
track you buzzkilling your way downtown to my apartment,
to get yours.

Good lord. You will ride.
You will feel loved.

II.

I feel love with every molten lava strip of your tongue,
creating new land,
down my stomach. Marking what is yours.

A warning. A domestic threat.

III.

I hate you and your devastation,
but I lie in my bed naked
and engorged
everytime I hear the sirens.