TRANSMUTATION IN TRANSIT

The grotesque vision of a life's discarded fantasy

alienated from it's cultural roots, yearning to be free

holding on to the body, eyes wide open but can't see

the soul has taken to ether yet the mind won't let it be

paradox in action, clinging to genetic memory tenaciously

psyche striving for change, as the ghost persists imminently

the spirit rising towards yonder but unable to leave permanently

such a state of conveyance to be handled with kid gloves, swiftly.

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TRIBULATIONS OF THE POET

Sticking one's neck out for "freedom of expression"

is a poet's foremost obligation, not just an impression 

merely to say the needed word that is beyond temptation

the poet must be able to speak out loud, no need to shout 

subtly disguised hush hush, a need to beat around the bush

this poet needs no push, the choice to make is to make a voice

why bother to struggle with half ass poetry, that would be a pity.

When somebody asks me 'what is it that you do',

If I answer 'I am a poet' they sometimes laugh at me

'I am a poet too, no kidding, what do you do for a living'.

which requires a capacity for humility and a sense of humor

or you'll grow a tumor, not everything need be taken seriously.

LET THERE BE LIGHT

Let there be light

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

There is a lack of transparency

which makes the World affairs

dubiously flawed, dark and ugly

whistle blowing is the tendency.

Will the lights ever be turned on

the whole picture clearly visible,

the perception of existing reality

would that even be conceivable?.

The skillful game of deception

is considered brilliant diplomacy

which is an essential ingredient 

in the established political reality.

The power of crude brute authority

will now be diminishing really fast

the game of war is played digitally

on the web, with computers at last.

It is high time for transparency

in all clarity, discern this insanity

the vanity of power over each other

is not going to accomplish harmony.

We need to play the balancing game

once we admit we are all the same

and if we wish to move even further

may it be from evil not mother nature..

Our environment is real, let us be clear

we should serve mother, which is dear

we have had a call, high time we hear

hence, we shall have no reason to fear.

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ABUSE OF THE BELOVED

The possessive, jealous, conditional grip of love

is trumped by the detached, selfless, blessed one

all the asserting, pleading, threatening of the lover

is humbled by a love that only wishes the well being.

Love is in the air, as a matter of breathing and exhaling

it has little to do with craving, possessing, depending

it is all about giving, naturally in sync with receiving

once the balance is there, it is just a matter of being.

The tragedies that transpire in the name of love

all the sacrifice, all the emotional pain is in vain

desire and jealousy, huge players in this domain

they have been known to drive the lover insane,

Love can be superficially pampered to sell product

suitors seduction is regarded as advance of the lover

charm is an indication of love, appearance is a factor

which is often misused by the shrewd to attain power.

In the name of love many crimes are committed

but such tendencies are hardly ever admitted

the license of ownership is legally permitted

with the consent of law tenure is persisted.

For the love of the beloved may love be conceded

integrity of such a feeling needs to be safeguarded

all those false values should eventually be discarded

otherwise the whole notion of love will be abandoned.

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PLAY & YALP

Should you wish to play a hand
in a post-modern intermedia event
Bad ass 'Dada' conjured as such idea
interactive theater in multi media 
the energy of action poetry and art
innovative cabaret theater is the act.

A potent, psychoactive happening
the word of mouth as a form of art
raw, live, get ready to dive and react
into the abyss of this absurdist kiss.
Such is the bliss of creative freedom
this involves all, not just the whom.

Let us lay the play bottoms up I say
turn it around, utter Yalp, Yalp.. yalp
let us let how silly can we get, and bet
like a naive pet eager to participate
in the dynamics of suchlike suboriginal
primitive-post modern expressionism.

Imagine holding the strings of a puppet
in your hands as you pull the strings
yelp 'wake up puppet, wake up and play!'
the power of the crowd in hysterical urge
awakening the puppet, prompting perform
applause should be accompanied by Yalping.

" CLAP-CLAP, YALP-YALP-clap yalp "

This is a ritual in which we are all
participants as co-players, co-creators
of special linguistic circumstances
whereby art, poetry, music and play
are felt and experienced spontaneously
as an interactive continuous activity.

'Yalp' is a multifaceted balancing act
a working relationship between polarities
of words, images, motion and sounds
of light and heavy, of the mockery of irony
intimacy and alienation playing in contrast
pain and pleasure, the inner and the outer.
let what is inside mingle with the outside.

When those circumstances are created
the theater of absurdity will manifest
a metamorphosis will follow at best
laughter will trigger transformation
the puppet and the human will merge
an uninhabited creature will emerge
The word is, If you want to PLAY
you have to be prepared to YALP.

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PRAYER TO LORD

A prayer to Lord
uttering the word
of the poetic chord
with the urge to sort
all that we could afford
the rest they must deport
hoping to find the support
of whatever we would export.

COMET ISON

Something is burning
without flames,
somebody must be
playing games.
Ashes turning into dust,
invisible dreams
beneath the crust.
Birds are singing
so we must
hear the whispers
of the past,
find new meaning
in ancient trust.
Passion is rising
from the bust
which was once
yearning lust.
Time is burning
here at last,
life is changing
changing fast.
The thing to ask
if we must
is who is it
that we trust?.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhOtzzlZOyo

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PROJECT UNDERDOG - UTOPIA

It is only now, since the arrival of the www, that the entire World can have a voice,

exchange information, ideas, opinions. The choice to make is to make a voice.

Anyone is capable of making noise, but civilization is being able to communicate,

person to person, beyond borders, beyond the divisions of nations and religions,

beyond selling products, winning games, scoring points, competing for trophies.

The notion of finding a common ground, to be able to have harmonious coexistence

I wish and hope that eventually animals and plants and all life forms residing on Earth
will also be able to participate, then we'll be able to make Earth truly a wonderful place.

It is from the gates of reception that we should be able to reach out for such a Utopia

If each baby born is given the deserved love, care, the unbiased, enlightening education
to be able to live up to their inherent particular potentials, by utilizing the latent powers. 

Admittedly the first few generations will be forced to compromise making a big sacrifice.

All mothers, parents, teachers, fellow humans must have the full hearted intention

not to pass over their bias, devoid of any personal possession, of selfish identification.

Such an awareness can not be forced, it has to dawn on everyone collectively, at once

as each time a beloved is born, God arrives in this form of all the children of mankind

once this is meticulously established in the soul-spirit of everyone, the rest will follow

such a dream I have visualized in my Utopian fantasy, 

an ecstasy concerning tomorrow.

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HOPE TO COPE

The last man left on Earth

all alone but not so lonely

bathing in a solitary space

time, a far reaching stretch

the World, a forsaken place

left behind, as life was kind

never mind, he seems blind

since he still expects to find

some other soul of his kind

as to handle life's last hurdle

saved for a knock at the door.

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