Thursday, January 26, 2012

A nightmare on Jay Street...

So many dreams.... so little peace....so late...so many poems demanding voice.......How can I sleep?????

                                   I am without relativity...
                                   For me the world moves
                                   not like the streetcars
                                   in some distant fantasy
                                   or legend passed on among
                                   an agnostic elite
                                                            (eager
                                   to find God in the equations
                                   they've scribbled hastily across
                                   the face of an impassive universe)
                                   
                                   but like a song
                                   whose mathematics sing to the
                                   beauty of the mind
                                   and for the joyous posture of those
                                   declared unfit and dressed
                                   in the loose fitting garments befitting
                                   apostate lovers of God.

                                                        *
                                  "If God made the bee,
                                    the wasp is surely
                                    a creation of the devil"

                                    If there is nothing more to fate
                                    than the prophesy of a broken mirror
                                    then the devil has had his way, for
                                    I was never the loving child of God
                                                                       (as I pretend)
                                    but then, I am never as I pretend;
                                    so why do I continue to sweep away
                                    the broken glass.....
                                    undoing fate with a lie.

                                                         *

                                    The rabbis speak of two windows,
                                    one faces east, dispersing the shadows
                                    cowering in that uncertain space
                                    between morning and night.
                                    The other, pasted over with yesterdays
                                    headlines declaring war and screaming
                                    improprietously of whores yet to be stoned,
                                    reveals little of the world beyond.

                                    At times, a path leads between the two
                                    deceptive in its simplicity, the geometry of
                                    convergent planes offering clear answers
                                    and drawing life from its occasional inhabitants
                                    who will soon tire of its clarity and
                                    once again long for the wisdom
                                    of their discarded sages.

There, I feel better already!!!!!!  Don't know where they come from, but they bubble and churn up from within, demanding expression...So for now,  I have fulfilled my obligation as scribe to those insistent forces  that allow me no peace.  So hopefully, for today anyway,  "to sleep, perchance to dream".

                                                      Pablo,  guerrilla poet

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