Poetizing spontaneously without combusting
  • The poetizing begins

    The poetizing begins

  • The poet contemplates

    The poet contemplates

Seeking the Wind

Seeking the Wind

Slaver

Stop-Human-TraffickingSlaver

Slavery tastes of fear and feels as if someone barbwired your soul – taste the brutality.

Slaver
sees animals not people
relies on a coarse compass
to guide his moral deficit

Slaver
sells angels for the highest price
hawks humanity without a license
never apprehended

Slaver
inoculates cruelty
stretches his frailty
with manacles of pain

Slaver
drowns his subjects with drugs
weaving a chain of tears
in December bleakness

Slaver
trades souls and hearts
shackles humanity
for shekels stained with tears

Slaver
Remove the chains
Remove the tears
Remove the fears

Remove the chains
Remove the tears
Remove the fears

Remove the chains
Remove the tears
Remove the fears
© 2013 lgjaffe

 

 

Friendly Lamentation

friendshipFriendly Lamentation

It may come as a surprise to you
But when we became friends
I thought you meant it

I have never been half-way
About friends
They are all close
Or not friends at all

So I took what you said
At face value

We were to be friends

Pinky pals for all eternity

I would take a bullet for a friend
And you thought that presumptuous

I would be there 24/7 for a friend
And you thought that audacious

When did you change the definition
Of friend to someone you called
When you needed a ride

© 2013 lgjaffe

I Never Appreciated Bukowski

Bukowski-with-wordsI Never Appreciated Bukowski

I don’t know why
I never appreciated
Charles Bukowski
I just didn’t

I never got to call him
Charles,
Charlie
or Chuck
I never called him anything

I never got
to hang
out with his words

I just never appreciated
Charles Bukowski

Perhaps he was too raw for me
But that makes no sense
I invented
Unprotected Poetry
how could anyone
or anything
be too raw for me?

Perhaps something more sinister

Maybe I was told
He was an aging revolutionary
But I love revolutionaries
Aging or otherwise

Maybe Bukowski
was pawned off to me
as some sort of freak
vomiting on his shoes
Glass houses
is all I can say

I don’t tolerate drunks
all that well
maybe this was it

—Nevertheless

Today I discovered a Bukowski
left hidden behind his ancient art

I appreciate Henry Charles Bukowski
and call him Hank

© 2013 lgjaffe

 

21st Century Zombie

pills21st Century Zombie

A man steps on the moon
Almost 50 years later
He steps in mayhem

His trousers wrinkled
From defeat

His necktie ruined
From hanging intruders

His shirt speckled
With the blood of spectators

– Who is this man?
– Why does he wreak havoc so recklessly?

He is coated with the film
Of psychotropic drugs

His decisions not his own

His mind inundated
With televised violence

He breathes poison
Spouts venom

He has become a snake
In the looking glass
Revolted by his own image

Welcome 21st Century zombie

© 2013 lgjaffe

We Are Poetry They Said

keyboardWe Are Poetry They Said

Artist
puts pen to paper
rides keyboard
into sunset

Working
man’s words
fly from fingers
unencumbered
by class

Words
refuse to climb
socialite limbs
staying earthborn
with dreams
of flight

– Desperate words
breath last breaths
and leave a void

– Silence
suffocates

– Disillusioned
by hapless
commentary

– Crying for resolution
and vengeance

Words
long for freedom
unfettered by lust
wandering freely
unbridled

Words
yearn for life
not some
mundane
calling

We are poetry they said!
We are poetry they said!

© lgjaffe 2013

Wishbone

wishboneWishbone

Wishbone
Wishbone

He said

Snapping his fingers
in real time

No imaginary borders

Just him doing his thing
nice and fancy like

On the boulevard

© 2013 lgjaffe

 

Siren’s Call

sirensSiren’s Call

It was not wild women calling to those men

Nor were those wild men trolling for women
This was a battle most ancient
A showdown of mastery – matter against spirit
And for an eternity’s moment it appeared
As if the physical universe had finally won

For…
The beasts and demons called out to souls

  • To lose them on the rocks of catastrophe
  • To make mayhem on the spirit
  • To trap them in eternal confinement
  • To turn their tears into blood
  • And their blood into bombs

These were not the strong tempting the weak
These were the weak stealing the strength from the gallant

Through trickery and mirage they gained a foothold of life force
And appeared to be the winner of man and cinder

Spirit became man and man endeavored to survive forevermore
Caught in the wilderness of matter, energy, space and time

Three Balances of Love

ringsThree Balances of Love

The ancient Greeks speak of three different categories of love: Eros, Philia and Agape. Eros is the feeling of love that exists between two people. It is the type of love that burns with intensity. After Eros has burned itself out, Philia must be present for the relationship to endure. This is the kind of love felt between friends, the kind that commands mutual respect. Agape is one step beyond. It is one of complete and total love, and manifestations of such unconditional love, enlightenment, are rare. To this balance I add the final measure of Infinity slightly different from the others as it should be.

Eros

the passion ever
embers
bright always
dawning sun
escaping
mist of salvation

Philia

the bond ever
strengthens
affinity always
magnetic reply
escaping
mist of touch

Agape

the distance ever
dissolves
contact always
immediate universe
escaping
mist of time

Infinity
the love
we have without
looking
where the mist
clears
beyond friendship
into totality

© 2013 lgjaffe

Hawk

red-tailed-hawk_681_600x450

 

hawk flies majestic
pursuing unknown quarry
soars above the sun

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