51

Blank

Flying like a falcon, eighty miles per hour,

I thank you, dear presence, whoever you are.

Though know you little, my praises I’d shower,

But that such magic you wield, the sun your star.

My guess is that you’re perfectly beautiful,

Which all censor, meaning I must, to survive.

Amidst tyrannies I must be dutiful:

“My” life’s not my own. I’m not me, nor alive.

I have no money so I do as I’m told.

With no way to get it I reap but age old.

Meanwhile I wait, stuck. Can’t go fore, back nor fly.

So I’m writing a poem, as all else, point none,

An exact description of humankind’s world –

Seems something a waste, the bright rays of the sun.

As for yourself, can you want what man’s unfurled?

Why the trashing of me against my doing?

Seems the harder I try the worse that it gets.

The older I wane, more anger comes wooing.

How good to be free of this world’s tangling nets.

Help. I see nothing. Why, then, a brain? Why eyes?

I can’t tell a great prize from untrue disguise.

Nor do I know how to live. Nor know I why.

52

Utterance Be No Coinciding Weapon

Black flying friends who sometimes tell me what is what,

Say I’ll be a millionaire before day’s end.

I’m in no rush – already got quite a lot –

But if least resistant path be not pretend

Least means now so that I leisurely move home

Where, all convenient to me, we’ll more progress.

Meanwhile the clouds open to a wide blue dome,

Because one great has elected me to bless.

Don’t know why. Ain’t no one special, a far star.

Yet, be you my double, a servant you are

To a system tyrannical, despotic.

Prefer you not freedom and empire of rock?

Let’s that elephant encode and that shape grow –

Cursing one’s path ain’t the way to talk and walk.

Each escape before had brought me only woe –

Why prefer you shackles and troubles to ease?

Why prefer you nightmares, hatred, stress, all Hell’s?

Why prefer your stocks cut, no space for your trees?

Pray be more in the crystal than present tells,

For to breathe but to pay the rent ain’t my style.

Nor do I drink what’s shown on the bathroom tile.

Nor but dim do poverties glow erotic.

53

At the Bank Regardless

Every penny I spend returns to me thrice,

‘Cause I’m rich – I have my meat and eat it, too.

For property I want I pay the cash price,

‘Pon asking my lover, who happens to be you.

Money is water and pours on me like rain –

There for the taking, my trades cannot but gain.

Thus I’m free, for in command, suffer no pain,

Our empire thanks to the powers of the Brain.

No more anger, no more cursing, no more stress,

I fin’lly smile, ‘long with someone else to bless.

Be I aid to someone else will you help me?

Well, how I beamed when she drove by in a skirt,

Her drop top down, the wind revealing her thighs.

I call that friendly – what a wonderful flirt!

Think I’ll pour a rum, toast the prize to the skies:

Be they blue, the weather clement all her days!

Come to the Garden, my darling. There we’ll play.

While doing that we’ll pray nude beneath sun’s rays.

Since we’re rich we don’t have to what others say,

And even richer are we in mystic ways.

No longer denied, nor poor unhappy strays,

Come, and we’ll live healthy, wise and leisurely.

54

Yet More to Pierce with Sword

Bought on a bullish block, made fifty percent,

Six thousand dollars out of four in three days.

I followed that with eight thousand dollars spent

On the star ‘pon the doji that always pays.

Money there for the taking, I play my hands

By which my wealth is exponentially grown.

It’s easy. I do but what logic demands,

Playing computer games in my home of stone.

The market’s been bear, I get ready to buy.

Now I sell ‘pon a gap risen just so high.

From nigh nothing I’ve wrought a new world – I’m rich.

So sudden it occurred, surprised even me.

Who would have thought I’d be wealthy, rise so fast?

Now I’ve so much cash all might as well be free.

I, who once was no one, ranked not even last,

Receive now attentions, favor, applauses

That before, though excel, I could not acquire.

I help little ones now, one of my causes,

Many whom play under my trees, on a wire.

Who I don’t invite I keep out with rock walls.

Who I do it’s, perhaps, to one of my balls –

I’m rich, ain’t got a thing about which to bitch.

55

For Fascist Terror to Crack

I might be somebody, but I’m just guessing.

If true, I don’t why, for what, that might be.

Is life a good gift or a war distressing?

Is it whatever one believes it to be,

Or are there greater to lead us right or wrong?

I didn’t make it, all I don’t understand.

I only know that I’m where I don’t belong,

Which is any scene that I do not command.

Yet come trading stocks, come two crows, come forex,

And I simplify what ain’t all that complex,

Like leaving cave bats for the radiant sun.

But why a bright future, and more brilliant yet?

A gift to an unfortunate who earned it?

To prepare a future, someone’s I’ve not met?

Some prophecy that I’ve somehow discerned it?

A gift to another, I but by the way?

A psychological examination?

Proof of karma, that life becomes fair some day?

Because a diamond’s completed formation?

I don’t know why, but I’m finally free.

Needing not slave anymore – that’s how to be.

So with this I thank all who’ve helped me – we’ve won.

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