Peter's Favorites - A Celebration of National Poetry Month / by D.M. Jerman

Happiness

Whoever embraces a woman is Adam. The woman is Eve.

Everything happens for the first time.

I saw something white in the sky.

They tell me it is the moon, but what can I do with a word and a mythology.

Trees frighten me a little. They are so beautiful.

The calm animals come closer so that I may tell them their names.

The books in the library have no letters. They spring forth when I open them.

Leafing through the atlas I project the shape of Sumatra.

Whoever lights a match in the dark is inventing fire.

Inside the mirror an Other waits in ambush.

Whoever looks at the ocean sees England.

Whoever utters a line of Liliencron has entered into battle.

I have dreamed Carthage and the legions that destroyed Carthage.

I have dreamed the sword and the scale.

Praised be the love wherein there is no possessor and no possessed, but both surrender.

Praised be the nightmare, which reveals to us that we have the power to create hell.

Whoever goes down to a river goes down to the Ganges.

Whoever looks at an hourglass sees the dissolution of an empire.

Whoever plays with a dagger foretells the death of Caesar.

Whoever dreams is every human being.

In the desert I saw the young Sphinx, which has just been sculpted.

There is nothing else so ancient under the sun.

Everything happens for the first time, but in a way that is eternal.

Whoever reads my words is inventing them.

-Borges

-

Regina Salve

Regina and I need new geometries.

One cone of silence as a centerpiece,

Two non-Euclidians with recurring spheres.

Point to point is too mundane.

Give us trigonometry insane!

Load tangential sines for show;

We’ll take our calculus to go.

Sub and super;

Death’s h'ors d'oeuvres.

Irregular polyhedrons,

With which we serve.

- Peter Miltz

10-30-09

-

Pimp Blood in the Hour of Horus

(Intro)

Pimp blood chompin’ an’ hummin’ like a vampire! (repeat)

Horus Florist

Hoke her, poke her

(Verse)

Watching the game and I'm tryin' to call ya,
You sitting in Milwaukee
Jus' a' lookin’ at Ren-wah-wah

(Verse)

Call Harry Kalas, I got Dallas Green Bay

While youse in Philly-Delphi

learnin' how to mess da cha-cha

(Chorus)

Yo, girl! I can nevah catch ya weekends
Damn, girl! wondrin' whatcha do fa' semen
Dumb fucks, I can feel they neveh met me
Mah luck, I got da plays dat gonna turnkey

(Verse)

Watchin' a film jus' trying t'forget ya
She love to kick in LA
Callin' dicks for golden showahs

(Verse)

Call Poppa, I know he know how t' do it
She slummin' down Boca way
Axin' chumps who wanna buy shit

(Chorus)

Yo, girl! I can nevah catch ya weekends
Damn, girl! wondrin' whatcha do fa' semen
Dumb fucks, I can feel they neveh met me
Mah luck, I got da plays dat gonna turnkey

(Bridge)

Watching you now, from a place within y'all
More shit, excuses why ya'll say ya can't call
High art sittin' at da bottom of y'damn lies
Big town, jus' picked da wrong girl t'satisfy.

(Bridge)

Watching you now, from a place within y'all
More shit, excuses why ya'll say ya can't call
High art sittin' at da bottom of y'damn lies
Big town, jus' picked da wrong girl t'satisfy.

(Verse)

Pimp blood! I ain't never seen it cure yo luck
she droppin up in Frisco
got ideas to blitz shit schmucks

(Verse)

Her blood! can't bring mahself t'spill it
she only hit hospital
baby have kid, ‘fore I fills it

(Chorus)

Yo, girl! I can nevah catch ya weekends
Damn, girl! wondrin' whatcha do fa' semen
Dumb fucks, I can feel they neveh met me
Mah luck, I got da plays dat gonna turnkey

(Verse)

Watching the game and I'm tryin' to call ya,
You sitting in Milwaukee

Jus' a' lookin; at Ren-wah-wah

(Verse)

Call Harry Kalas, I got Dallas Green Bay

While youse in Philly-Delphi

learnin' how to mess da cha-cha

(Bridge)

Watching you now, from a place within y'all
More shit, excuses why ya'll say ya can't call
High art sittin' at da bottom of y'damn lies
Big town, jus' picked da wrong girl t'satisfy.

(Chorus)

Yo, girl! I can nevah catch ya weekends
Damn, girl! wondrin' whatcha do fa' semen
Dumb fucks, I can feel they neveh met me
Mah luck, I got da plays dat gonna turnkey

(Bridge)

Watching you now, from a place within y'all
More shit, excuses why ya'll say ya can't call
High art, sittin' at da bottom of y'damn lies
Big town, jus' picked da wrong suckah t'satisfy.


(Bridge)

Watching you now, from a place within y'all
More shit, excuses why ya'll say ya can't call
High art, sittin' at da bottom of y'damn lies
Big town, jus' picked da wrong suckah t'satisfy.

(Outro)

Pimp blood chompin’ an’ hummin’ like a vampire! (repeat)

Horus Florist

Hoke her, poke her

Pimp blood chompin’ an’ hummin’ like a vampire! (repeat)

Horus Florist

Hoke her, poke her


-

White Punks on French

(Intro)

Everybody run!

Emile Zola’s got a gun!

(Verse)

Roman noses and middle names

Amateur interrogator playing rude games

Got a permit and he’s packin’ heat

Realistically French and oh so discreet

(Verse)

Sick girl chillin’ to his wicked left side

Chomping on hot wings for tickets to ride

Can’t afford the medicine to clear her pretty head

Thought she’d buy a meal that would do it instead

(Chorus)

Everybody run!

Emile Zola has got a gun!

I know who you are.

Is that a surprise?

Ya’ can’t conceal weapons

In your damn black eyes

(Verse)

So you wanna study Islam

Got me spillin’ like an Imam

Five strong pillars and seven sins

Wonderin’ when your life can begin

(Verse)

Loud muthafucka rappin’ with the caliber

Revealing Id an’ tryin’ t’get back t’her

Runnin’ your mouth an’ runnin’ your game

Thing I’m keepin’ from ya: my own real name!

(Chorus)

Everybody run!

Emile Zola has got a gun!

I know who you are.

Is that a surprise?

Ya’ can’t conceal weapons

In your damn black eyes

(Bridge)

Callin’ out the President

Thinkin’ like a resident

Tryin’ to set a precedent

Gonna have an’ accident

You wanna build the boys a damn fine empire

Call state buildings – load, and open fire!

Terrorist punk with all the fundamentals

Threat to me? No! ‘Cause you ain’t developmental

Bible born believer with the heart of Ahab

Don’t remember Jesus sayin’: “Kill the fuckin’ Arabs”!

Y’all packing the powder like you packin’ your dicks

Finish your dinner drink and I hope you get sick

(Chorus)

Everybody run!

Emile Zola has got a gun!

I know who you are.

Is that a surprise?

Ya’ can’t conceal weapons

In your damn black eyes

(Chorus)

Everybody run!

Emile Zola has got a gun!

I know who you are.

Is that a surprise?

Ya’ can’t conceal weapons

In your damn black eyes

(Bridge)

Callin’ out the President

Thinkin’ like a resident

Tryin’ to set a precedent

Gonna have an’ accident

(Outro)

Roman roamin’ back in time

Roman emperor

Roamin’ pines

Roamin’ Roman catch ya next time

Get roamin’, Roman!

All in good time…

Rome

Roam

Rome

Roam

ROME!

-

Art Thou Pale For Weariness

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Art thou pale for weariness

Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,

Wandering companionless

Among the stars that have a different birth,

And ever changing, like a joyless eye

That finds no object worth its constancy?

-

When The Ship Comes In

Oh the time will come up
When the winds will stop
And the breeze will cease to be breathin'.
Like the stillness in the wind
'Fore the hurricane begins,
The hour when the ship comes in.

Oh the seas will split
And the ship will hit
And the sands on the shoreline will be shaking.
Then the tide will sound
And the wind will pound
And the morning will be breaking.

Oh the fishes will laugh
As they swim out of the path
And the seagulls they'll be smiling.
And the rocks on the sand
Will proudly stand,
The hour that the ship comes in.

And the words that are used
For to get the ship confused
Will not be understood as they're spoken.
For the chains of the sea
Will have busted in the night
And will be buried at the bottom of the ocean.

A song will lift
As the mainsail shifts
And the boat drifts on to the shoreline.
And the sun will respect
Every face on the deck,
The hour that the ship comes in.

Then the sands will roll
Out a carpet of gold
For your weary toes to be a-touchin'.
And the ship's wise men
Will remind you once again
That the whole wide world is watchin'.

Oh the foes will rise
With the sleep still in their eyes
And they'll jerk from their beds and think they're dreamin'.
But they'll pinch themselves and squeal
And know that it's for real,
The hour when the ship comes in.

Then they'll raise their hands,
Sayin' we'll meet all your demands,
But we'll shout from the bow your days are numbered.
And like Pharaoh's tribe,
They'll be drownded in the tide,
And like Goliath, they'll be conquered.

- Robert Zimmerman

_

Losing all the youth of Athens (Is losing Spring from the year)

(verse)

Where are the boys who used to play?

With ships and guns and forts of hay

Into the wind, they fought all day,

Into the night, they died their way.

(verse)

Where are the boys who used to date?

With shirts and pants and loving till late

Into the wind, we loved all day

Into the night, we pledged our way.

(chorus)

Faith, hope, and love

The greatest of these is metaphor

What the hell’s a meadow for?

For graves to sprout with fear

Losing all the youth of Athens

Is losing Spring from the year.

(verse)

These were the boys who sang their fate

These were the girls dancing with grace

Here are the fathers, painting their faces

Here are the mothers, acting their paces

(verse)

Where are the parents who used to raise?

She is the mother who can only gaze

He is the father who works through haze

Where is the God who guides our ways?

(chorus)

Faith, hope, and love

The greatest of these is metaphor

What the hell’s a meadow for?

For graves to sprout with fear

Losing all the youth of Athens

Is losing Spring from the year.

(bridge)

Battle born, uniformly worn

Following, leading

Forward falling

Forever sailing

Born of battle, worn into form.

All night long we resurrect

All day long we insurrect

But death cannot correct

(verse)

Dyed in wool through all lives past

Lying red, into our memories cast

Flag draped, death raped at last

For future love of centuries past

(verse)

Monuments morph with morphine scorn

Tall granite ships to sink once born

All unknown souls with bodies torn

All for love, once lost, reborn

(chorus)

Faith, hope, and love

The greatest of these is metaphor

What the hell’s a meadow for?

For graves to sprout with fear

Losing all the youth of Athens

Is losing Spring from the year.

-

The Second Coming (Slouching towards Bethlehem)

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert.

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

- W.B Yeats

-

somewhere i have never traveled,gladly beyond

by E. E. Cummings

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near


your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and

my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture

compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands.


-

New Poem:

I Like Christmas

Wood of iron; life’s lampoon.

Beer, television, baseball dreams gone awry.

Pitcher special?

No, it’s a cold-activated glass.

Shouting, silently, “I like Christmas!”

KKK comes out of my mouth…

Fuck you, Poindexter! Issue a PO!

Your SS troops are gay as snow.

You’ll buy me a drink based on the size of my dick?

Give me a car bomb, low voices, big sticks.

Who’s the proprietor of this establishment?

I will shoot the unarmed man.

I will shoot the one-armed man.

KKK go away,

Come again on yesterday.

I came to this place to drink in peace;

Leave me alone or you’ll rest in pieces.

I like Christmas!

Nothing happens; everyone is there.

Nowhere to go; no one bothers us.

I like Christmas,

I keep telling myself

I love Christmas,

I believe myself.

Will you be back for Christmas?

I keep thinking of how much I love you

So I don’t blow these Nazi asshole faggots

Straight to hell.

Wood of iron; life’s slow swoon

I change stools under a beer light’s moon.

I don’t want to kill you, but I love my life.

Shut the fuck up.

I like Christmas

I like Christmas

Peter Miltz

11-11-09

Veteran’s Day

- For three potential corpses and, of course, Dana.