Disconnect

Disconnect, eject
Yourself from self
Outside help, really
Apart from reality
Duality being
More than a feeling
Reeling past control
Polarity poetry
At times, can be
The epitomy of vacancy
To take in seems
Mistaken dreams
Happening when awake
Understanding withstanding
Serious delays
Furious or fazed
Delirious this maze
Amazed that senses
Sense not to obey
What most of us
Trust them to do
Hectic nerves
Disconnect the world
Stare up there
At light so bright
Might ignite
Fighting spirit
In one so endearing
Mental math can't
Fathom equations so
Random as existance
Consistent with none
Alone, just one

Metallica

Here's to metal
Here's to America
Here's to Metallica

You shoved metal up our asses
You said thanks Judas Priest for Rapid Fire
And said no thank you to Breaking the Law
You took a movement with a dumb name (NWOBHM)
Americanized it into thrash
Manic and defiant you giants Rode the Lightning
Set the course, metal should be frightening

To tell the story of Metallica is to acknowledge the American dream. It began with a friendship of the strongest kind, one built over music. Two outcasts brought together, a potential Danish John McEnroe and a solitary cornfed son of the States, brought together by cassette, 8-track, vinyl...

Beers too!
Perhaps too many?
Buds broke a couple camels backs, I'm sure

Road got Cliff Burton though
Black had it right when he said "the road is fucking hard"
And Robertson knew that the road made too many musicians into martyrs

Ulrich, Hetfield, Mustaine, Burton, Hammett, Newsted, Rock, Trujillo

Good but... -

They seemed amazing, what every one wants to be
They came off as if they had it all, by only having each other
They were good, if not great, but I know
They were not meant to be

How people find these things out, it's hard to say
How one can let go now just seems to make no sense
"How?" The other will always think
"How were we not meant to be?"

-

If you do not love someone but they love you, let them go
If you do not share their burning passion, let them go
You might know what heartbreak lies ahead for them
How the time you spent together will play out to them
Or maybe you've felt the tremendous devalidation that comes from heartbreak
Maybe in partial loneliness you have felt weak
But this is about you, not anyone else
If you can't love someone you don't deserve them

ABBA

Pure Pop Pristine
Blsting out your 70s speakers
Your early 80s TV

Boys Girls Big drums & Better studios
Gendered Swedish harmonies in full stereo
Like Fleetwood Mac without the cocaine

Love songs both Gained & Lost
Don't listen to them
When jaded over love

Black metal Acid jazz Gangsta rap
To get off topic
Are better remedies

ABBA The soul of pop
Disco, sure they did that too
But also songs about Soviet invasion with updated Spectorisms

ABBA The soul of pop
The love of fans, the billionth chorus sung
Their time was special

How to Write

Repeat yourself as much as possible
As much as you can repeat yourself
Be intense and relentless
When repeating yourself
Your point should be clear
And repeated often
This is particularly true in academia
As academia is the poetry of repetition

Sunday Freestyle

Grungiest, funky as a fungus gets
Fun guy, puff lye, grow fungi
Magic, Formula had it
Fathered this fodder, I Dad it
"I did it!" like a kid did when he toileted
Ghost rode your whip, coast gaurded your ship
Double dipped them nips then went below hips
Darth Vadered haters made em insignificant like Nader
Invade underpants like the Germans did France
Not a Nazi, hair messy but not dreadlock Rastafari
Hunt you down like safari, game you like Atari
Ich bin ein Berliner, not a beginner

Grief

Where to place, how to face
Innebriate yourself irate
But still no cure
Though you want it to be
No answer, nothing asked
Though we feel, a great weight.

Tears fall downward
This is gravity
Otherwise we cannot control
The direction they take
Nor their course.
Mountains don't choose their streams,
Much less their glaciers
And a glaciers power is fickle
Streams begin, where they trickle.

Excess Tunnel Vision

Eyes closed, I don't know
When to be frightened, the show
This is symptomatic of where we want to go
I think poetry is an honest depiction
Of the mind's linguistic process
Eyes open to one thing
And nothing other
(Wonder why they call you a...)
And closed to all else
Excess Tunnel Vision
An epiphany I had
Dashed past the forehead
Did I get to it?
You tell me.

Mom

To anyone there is no one
As important as their Mom
From the dawn of your existance
Persistently she is with you
I couldn't imagine a life without one
And I'm lucky because I have two
But it's not always easy understanding
What that means
Or explaining it to others
Calling your stepmom, mother
Seems that word belongs to one
And not the other
So I don't utter it
Around you but I wish I did
Wish I could sometimes
So you know how close you are
Despite sometimes how I've held you back
You were always there for me
We all recognize that
We all knew how valuable you were to me
In Sudan you helped me grow from a kid to a man
And that I understand
Better than before I realize
That like any mom
You would never leave your son's side
Never stop defending him
Even when he is vehement
So never forget that to your oldest son
The name Mary means mom
And I carry it with the same weight
The way any son appreciates
And loves the endless love
That a mother provides
The way she inspires her son to thrive
Happy birthday mom
This is your poem

For Mr. Mapplethorpe

Andy Warhol
Couldn't die you said
And maybe you got cut
And you bled
And it scared the shit out of you,
You bandaged yourself up.
A sigh of relief,
Death is not hear yet
But you know that soon
Your system is not immune
Syndrome lead to Deficiency
Germ Acquired your Immunities
Devastated your whole community.

Soldier on
But for how long
Come to grips with family
Tragedy overbears catholic guilt
What you couldn't admit
Is unimportant now
Just hold on a little longer
Settle tabs, talk to old friends
Reminisce and try to work.
You find yourself skinnier every day;
Bug keeps eating away.

Most troubling is your soul,
Most unsettling is control,
A total loss of it.
Can't see those that you love
Without somebody crying
Oh the life you live,
When you know that you are dying.

Poet's Rule 42

A rule for a white guy
Dont talk dem talk
No try no creole
Ese you aint vato
But dem roos dey made tah be brokan
Or its me thats broken
I against I
Means I cant even fly