Archive for the poetry Category

Apocalypse Calypso Contest (Inaugural Poem 2017)

Posted in arguing with lovely people who are perfectly nice, arguing with lunatics, COMRADE TRUMP, current events, poetry, politics on January 21, 2017 by furious buddha

An angry cheer from the angry ants
celebrating their glorious victory
full of hate and mean ignorance
they joylessly jeer in vulgar rhapsody
to tuneless tunes they awkwardly dance
where they leer and preen their audacity

Among them slouches a vulgar beast
that they praise in glory the highest
at their center slouches a vulgar beast
hosting their Apocalypse Calypso Contest
they know it will be more fun at least
than Beach Party Vietnam and Cambodia Fest

The Cold War Clambake was a dud
and the Civil War Costume Gala
was one hell of a house wrecking thud
that fills them with imagined nostalgia
except for the part where we let in the thugs
but this time around they’ll work out the bugs.

Lost in reveries of power and fame
impressed with their own fine finery
they indulge themselves without any shame
they’ll drink all the wine in the winery
then the vulgar beast with a wave of his claw
turns the water to vodka while mocking the law

They gyrate obscenely for their fresh spawn’d abyss king
who gawks and gapes with lecherous glee
while they shower each other in their territorial pissing
the vulgar beast wallows in delight so filthy
the stain might never come out of the fabric
no other clown ever achieved something more tragic

 

Poem: 01/01/2017

Posted in poetry on January 1, 2017 by furious buddha

that was overture
the evil spell’s unbroken
the air is stifling

twenty days remain
twentieth century dies
an old age arrives

our democratic
experiment is threatened
we shrug and tweet on

At the Bottom of the Year 2016

Posted in art, current events, days in the life, poetry, pop culture on December 31, 2016 by furious buddha

Try not to look back
in anger or grieve again
live 2 see the dawn

Nothing to do with the Cubs

Posted in current events, poetry, pop culture on October 22, 2016 by furious buddha

Schroedinger’s cat is walking parallel to me
undecided and full of omens
sidling through my peripheral vision
in the blind spot of chance
don’t notice it yet
don’t observe it
otherwise…

No Connection (Donald Trump is a worshipper of Mammon and his own reflection in the golden eye of Baal): channeling Bill

Posted in arguing with lunatics, current events, guns, philosophy, poetry, politics, pop culture, religion on August 12, 2016 by furious buddha

Chicago’s gun ban ruled unconstitutional in 2010.
(There is no connection between these links and you would be a fool and a communist to make one.)
On Monday, 19 people in the city of Chicago were shot, 9 of them fatally.
(there is a fevered ego run amok among us)
And the beat goes on. and on
(
tainting our collective unconsciousness and making us pay a higher psychic price than we can possibly imagine)
This story was made possible by modern medicine and mass media.
(He is sowing chaos and madness, lowering the standards for the perfect and holy children of God)
This story was made possible by people trying to rob a man of his wheelchair.
(everywhere his hateflowers bloom)
How do the Evangelicals who embrace him not feel his contempt for them?
(Donald Trump is a worshipper of Mammon and his own reflection in the golden eye of Baal)
And what’s crazy is that William F Buckley agrees with me.

How Can You Lose Your Fire When Everything Is Burning?

Posted in arguing with lunatics, current events, days in the life, guns, philosophy, poetry, politics, race on June 16, 2016 by furious buddha

My Dear Huck;

I have tried three, now four times to write you since I saw your comment. That’s part of the problem. Julia and I have a four and a half year old little boy and a five month old Rottweiler running around, our jobs keep us on crazy schedules and some damn thing or another is coming up. Yesterday Julia needed to get a tooth extracted.

But that’s just short term bs. I am doing a lot of writing and creative work right now but I haven’t been blogging especially about politics because for the love of Christ, just look at it. 

I’ve been talking to you for a long time, my invisible friend, and you know me to be a sane and rational fellow, but I am empathetic, intuitive, and in touch enough with myself to understand other people in a way that almost seems eerie to me sometimes, and when I see Donald Trump these days, I…

Are you familiar with The Dead Zone by Stephen King? It feels a bit like that but worse.

******************TWO DAYS PASS*******************************

And just now today a British MP was shot dead by a man who shouted ‘Britain First!

Madness and horror, Huck. That’s what I see when I close my eyes and hear his voice.
Do you want an honest bit of crazy poetry that will unsettle and shake you? Read on,
I’ll tell you what jams my minds eye and floods my subconscious with static broken
recitations of the gibbering spittle flecked rants of the Alzheimer’s ward at Christmas,
the sound of something angrily pounding from the inside of an infants coffin
and  tentacles caressing snake bodies, cephalopods embracing reptiles,
broken nature recombining the recombinant into revenge upon the primate
and the guns oh the fucking guns the precious guns the giant steel cocks of death
worshipped by the cowards and closet cases not brave enough to suck a real cock
the equalizer that lets a lone mongrel kill a lion or every other fucking dog it sees
Mammon is shouting to the possessed, calling the demons to awaken among us
Mammon is shouting to the possessed, calling the demons to awaken among us
and I know that’s so crazy but that’s what it is: a nihilist narcissist empowered ego
calling the maniacs to serve it by any means necessary, that now is the time for all
madmen to come to destroy their country, and the grasshoppers are swarming
and metamorphosing into monstrous locusts ravenous for civilizations and
always the oceans are rising and the summers are getting hotter and this one
is going to set records, and I hear him laughing and something perfected
in the Cretaceous regards me with the mercy of a spider and I know that
Mammon is shouting to the possessed, calling the demons to burn it all down
Mammon is calling to the possessed, shouting for demons to burn it all down
and he sounds like maggots and flies buzzing in my ears everything is backwards
and nobody knows how it happened when it was obvious all along that it’s
what they had been asking for all along and there is the sound of bodies locked in
riga mortis falling to the ground it was over a long time ago except for the screaming
which is only getting louder as the weaklings join the mongrel wearing a lion skin
Mammon is calling the demons to wake you up and join his party (a monster’s Baal)
Mammon’s demons want to wake you make you join his party (the monster’s Baal)

So yeah, when I try to write about politics I keep getting stuff like that.

Cheers,

Winston

Friends Who Give Me Books

Posted in books, poetry on May 23, 2016 by furious buddha

Friends who give me books
gift me with worlds to explore
hearts and souls to adore
minds mine to peruse
& adventures to pursue

Friends who give me books
are so much more interesting
because they are always listening
& exploring uncharted depths
and seeing to infinite breadths

Friends who give me books
are friends I can trust
& appreciate them I must