You Should Have Taken the Other Half, Too...

Crossing Across Space

I've nothing for you
Take my empty hand
No boots
No dresses
No beauty parlor visits
No foreign money orders
No running through the airports
No crowded photographs
No long lost embrace
I'm wearing no sleeves
No sack on my back
Working in the chimney
Covered in soot
I've only a heart pumping blood
A brain for collecting image
A tongue to taste
Sweet words of the lips
And eyes
To capture the light
Of your heart
And the warmth of your
Love
Which is more than enough for me
Enough for any man
To live out his days
thousands of miles of railroad tracks
Away from the epicenter
Of your garden
How the garden swells
In the spring
What wondrous
Gifts the gentle rains bring
The music of the spheres
The trumpets of bees
While worlds away
You and me
gaze deeply
hand to hand

pmpope 2011

Space Junk and the Inevitability of Catch Up

When your hair is bouncing in the breeze
You'd never think to see
Head held back to stare at the sky
Look up there!
That cloud looks like a tombstone
Yet on closer inspection
Hurtling from the atmosphere
Old space junk satellites
How was it when in the 70's we first heard Lou Reed
sing of Satellites of Love
But today no one could believe how all the junkies
With their canes and their permanent
Game Over! Mental codecs
Shuffle throughout the E. Village And Alphabet City
So much discarded refuse
That broke our hearts & now the rain of space junk
Is reported by news crews
While smiling and reminding us:
If you see any space debris
Call the police immediately.
After all,
It is government property.

Translucent Kind

Looking through is quite the thing to do,
or so t'would seem to anyone who was born on this planet
in the last hundred years or so. Look through the leaves
of black and white newsprint and you may find something
to pique your interest. Glass comes to mind
as an elegant solution to increase your chances
of looking through something without causing much of a fuss.
The great thing about looking through
glass, is that it forms a physical barrier to an other dimension which,
you could, if you so desired, become an object within and in doing so,
change your entire reality. Look through the lenses
of glasses or cameras. You'll notice three versions of time
occurring similtaneously. Look through a magazine or a deck
of cards, your imagination will soar with all sorts of possibilities.
Look deep into the eyes of your pet. You may unlock the very mysteries
of the soul. Looking through your list of friends
may give you an indication of who you are
and what you hope to archive in this life.
Take a long, deep look.

pmpope 2011

The Passing Crowd

Watch & learn
How to be a good little human
Who breaks the laws
Who pays the bills
Who sucks it up
Who hurts from lonely

pmpope 2011

Who's That Knocking?

That is the floor
This is my bed
Late night noises, I hear
The sky is overhead

The walls stand firm
The Earth moves as she does
I go through the sunshine
With the bees and their buzz

The world will not end
Erase from your brain
Syllables of fear & hate
Eradicate the stain of pain

Hoping for peace; this world shall never end
Barking for war; our hearts will not mend
The glamourous life's corruption is a weight to be born
Its brunt blunt grunt sings Sisyphus mourn

This is my bed
That is the floor
Please leave your well wishes
& flowers by the door

pmpope 2011

Alchemical Manifestation w/ Flowers & Ice

Heat... humid... ice melt
Me @ metal cafe
Ant running across iron grate
Of hair & time on my arms

Condensation beading plastic
Clouds fill bowl of sky
Oh, that it were proper
Sew up the blue splotches
With all this silver gray along the line

We could then pretend they'd never been
Even if it were revealed through us
Via these lenses less glamourized;
Less memorized
Than through utility
Of memorial or sensationalism
Harvested @ one of dem
Lyrical financial academies

Even if one of our dearest,
Lovely, darling poet/ess/e/s
Took a portrait of crimsom petals
Yawning @ the gate of the State pen
Out in Pennsylvania (You Got A Friend)

Where the hearts of of the hardened
Concrete convicts crumble
& all the while
Ice melts in plastic
@ a metal cafe

PMPope 2011

Patriotic Solitaire

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Punctuate the Positive

Bleak lands call the hours to pasture
Creeping fungus gets involved in every
Crucial crevice and holds court in the time
It takes to look back

Even I send off this thought under the office
Of very low light in the land of unlimited
Electricity is at a premium
When these flood waters surge

Beauty is STILL
Everything & everything that is
Will & can be what is
Beauty does not dwindle
Even though it crumbles

I'd like, one day, to wake
& truthfully bake
A wonderful creamy cake
Which'd have the power to slake
Even the most cruel cunning
Of the king of the world's stake
& banish all the human fake
In apocalyptic trenches of a worldwide
Cheesequake!

Silly. I know
And seen has been believed
For the mind & soul of the creatures
Presumption in this paradigm of Me Time
Where the moments totter off
'Round mountain-sized stacks of products
& truth being held out of sight
While the keys to the pantry
Are passed off to the paltry
Rascals!
Varmits!
& their various offspring

pmpope ~ 2011

Hee-Hee-Haw-Haw!

Pulling up to the red light
in a non-descript sprawlburb
I notice a man sitting at the corner
With a bucket & a squeegee.
He runs up to cars & offers to wash
Their windshields so they can see
Where they are going
And all the marvelous things
God has prepared for them in this
Journey of life where only the smart
& the strong are necessary to carry on.
'What a good man.' I think to myself
With a slight brush of my hand
I acknowledge the wallet
Resting plump against my chest
In this wallet
Are picture of my family,
My reason to be
& also plastic cards
They equal so many pictures
Of dead presidents.
I think: 'It's a good job & tax-free to boot.'
The man spins his sign
In some hispanic language it says
Something about: God Bless You!
I think: He is loved by God
What good is my money
To him?

Pmpope 2011

Impending Woodpecker Doom

Whether it's rhythm or not
you must keep knocking
hard upon this tiny spot
though t'would seem as a flaw
to all in the order of life
you must stand tall
or get swallowed
by the employees of glamor
who work in politik department
on the reform ticket
of the old guard

Whenever it rhymes
take a dip
be sure
the sun does not set
on your flourishings
nor dare the trapezistas
of the hyper-boreal
ever to be able
to buy you something
resembling lunch