FAILING STATE

While I struggle, happily, to finish my latest one-act play, Glenda's Ashes, I find only time to offer you some new photomontages and my newfound slant of poetry located on the new page, Head-Lines.

The play has grown more complicated than I had first imagined. My muse didn't find it necessary to inform me that she would make me start over six times! She is having her fun with me. Toying with my patience, dangling carrots in front of me. What am I, her mule or something? Prodding me until I near insanity, then, pulling back with her signature chortle, a grand and cynical guffaw!

I would say, if all goes as planned, the play will be presented here relatively soon... In the mean time enjoy the montages and the new fare on the new page.

If I say new one more time I may need medical attention!

(A Poetic Justice Photomontage)

Read todays HEAD-LINES...

Rolling along "M"

Main and Central - March 19 Iraq War Blogswarm - Martha, Martha.... - Mccs1977 - MeInAction - Miss Welby - Mockingbird's Medley - My Page Was Too White - My Past, My Present and My Future - My Saturday Evening Post

THE STALE VESSEL

O! If we triumph what does it mean?
Shall we remedy the affliction of the people
Or masquerade it about in some tawdry dance?
(The bleak reflection, the tepid, the shallow, the lesser of…)

Before we fill the house with glee...
Let us see to it that it is clean,
That the writhing spineless beasts
Can no more devour our very streets
With their dismal recipe of white hunger.

Let us regard each of them alone,
Not for their shade or for the ground they prowl
Where the filthy paws stir the stale vessel
With the infected hunger of money and war,
But for what they bring to peace.

O! Victory shall only come when we are free!
Not in power’s worship, but the love of people
Triumphant in the acquaintance and joy of liberty,
When every liar and thief is bent upon their soiled knees...
Before we fill the house with glee.





Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

MIDTERM ELEGY

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We’ve a readymade art chattering in our teeth,
Arranging a dainty battle hymn to chant and howl
Like beasts in a cave.

We must manage to seize our exhausted throats
And find the pale cord that binds our hand
To tyranny’s slave.

We must slice away tender flesh to free ourselves
Of this creature of our most casual weakness;
Safety before liberty.

We’ve but little time to right this maddening plunge
Else the noise next we will hear shall be that of
The country’s elegy.

THRUSTING AMERICA'S LOVE OUTWARD (Election eve)

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Back by popular demand the day before election! Enjoy!

(Erotic Lust and Thrust, a collage of Poetic Justice and Ben Heine - Cartoons)

I compel you to love your country.

To draw her into your arms ever so tenderly,
To embrace her softly, dearly to your heart,
To huddle close, near together her masses,
And sense her least sustained yearning.

I compel you to love your country.

A nation that lifted the breast of humanity
Caressing it tenderly toward equality’s rapture
With gentle fingers of selfless, searing desire
Exploring over her ever toward paradise.

I compel you to love your country.

Freedom lovers damp in stiff-limbed writhing
Stumbling kisses upon red-barreled bravery,
Softly probing her robust and supple liberty,
Heed now her cries of woeful sovereignty!

I compel you to love your country.

Between her Trail of Tears and Mount Misery
She still waits upon the coupled plains of affection
Ready for our design and mastery of this worlds love
Panting heavy expectation upon her shape.

I compel you to love your country.

Perched upon the shore of Rolles Creek she waits
With Mount Pleasant in reach of her willing fingers.
With expectant sounds of closure now within her folds
She lunges forth with an expectant mouth!

I compel you to love your country.

O! Gentle sleep now beckons to her languid pink flesh
As the rogues tongue laps at her ebbing shores of joy
And beckons her let go of her valuable love’s embrace
Lunging forth behind her eager lips!

She counters not… for she is the boiling hunger we seek.

What a devoted worship we’ve had with the motherland.
Many a great poet has written their songs upon her flesh;
Their bright and shimmering waters lapping her shores
In ardent freedom’s want of hopes howling, dripping heat.

I compel you to love the world!

On this day of days let us remember her youthful glow,
Her ripe fruit of wonder, her drowsy ache of emancipation,
Her most alluring burnish upon our exploring of her skin.
(The burden of immense throbbing now falls upon her heart!)

I compel you to love the world!

America, carry your waves to all shores. Hope, not savagery,
In your goodness, not in impudent desire to control destiny.
Leave not the naked child, but your desire alone on the road.
Shelter not your intentions, but those most needful and hungry.

I compel you to love the world!

We have been witness to our dove, crippled and flailing in terror!
We’ve been onlookers to our expectations emerging fruitless.
Watching unmoved while our oily desire bleeds into the waters
And the cold white eyes of death tread progressively before us.

I compel you to love the world!

Come now, peace. Come now, warriors, lay down your guns
To witness the beauty at your hands as she lays down your sword
And with dripping red lips envelops your craving to possess her.
Do you not hear the night voices calling you with an angels whisper?

I compel you to love the world!

To open the door and step out into the bright sun, desire can wait.
Take notice of the many tender, breathing, soul-caked living.
Gaze upon the world’s most unbendable faith in humanity.
Gently touch her skin, delicately massage her furious soil.

I compel you to love the world!

Enter her sculpting space and weave a covering made of lifeless war.
Paint upon her face a gentle art made of your temples sweat.
Scribe a love song upon her back with the eagle’s most willing blood.
Erect in her a tower of light for all to see that they might weep.

I compel you to love the world!

The masses of age lie here and we should not be so ready to die
Like confused animal’s hooved in selfishness, deficient and artless.
The world is full of freedom lovers damp in stiff-limbed writhing
Stumbling kisses upon red-barreled bravery, tenderly probing liberty.

I compel you to love the world!

Amid her supple lands and majestic mountains she waits our affection,
Ready for our desire and design embracing her most ready warmth
Needing our hot hope upon her shape, wanton as wide-eyed first love.
(Heed now the world’s hot desire for freedom pulling us in.)

With hopeful whisper's within her waters, she leans forth, expectant.





Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

Original "Thrusting" Post


Ben Heine - Cartoons

AN EXTRAORDINARY OCCURRENCE

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(Declining Democracy by Ben Heine - Cartoons)

In the gleaming of our time together in freedom
We watch the hand choose its own new beginning.
It is strange that only now, as the world hemorrhages,
Do we sense a resurgent vigor of our treasured being.
Our neighbors are holding hopeful that we proceed
And that our hearts can quell the rumbling earth.

Anon comes our most extraordinary occurrence
Which we, with wild modesty of our grand estate,
Do pray angels might hover within our strain
Stuffing the dreary look with the consult of truth
And burst forth with a great cry of liberty
That she shall, within our hands, forever remain.




Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman



Ben Heine - Cartoons