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Feb 2018 · 406
I Am Not Spock
Igorgoldkind Feb 2018
But I was,
Between 11 and 12.
I was a Vulcan ruled by Logic.
Chief Science Officer on a starship

Disdainful of the soft, mere humans
Who surrounded me.
Who had invaded my planet
Polluting my atmosphere with their emotions.

With indomitable desires,
With their fear and their jealousies.
With their pleas to my heart
And their illogical presumptions.
Feb 2018 · 436
Haiku
Igorgoldkind Feb 2018
A boy goes to school

And tears his schoolmates apart

With metal piercing bullets

This is normal now.


Igor Goldkind
Feb 2018 · 1.1k
Nobody Talks to Me Anymore
Igorgoldkind Feb 2018
Today was every other day.

My boss says
"Hey Joe, where you going with that staple gun in your hand?"
I draw a blank on my face and turn to face his
.
"You don't really know, do you, Joe? 

You don't know where you're going.

You don't really know who you are.

You don't know much of anything anymore,

Do you now, Joe?"

Then he laughs at me 
In front of everybody
He laughs and points at

What everybody but me can see.

And everybody laughs and they laugh and they laugh

But nobody talks to me anymore.
My boss don’t talk to me anymore.
My neighbors don’t talk to me anymore.

My girlfriend don’t talk to me anymore.

My doctor don’t talk to me anymore.

My mother don’t talk to me anymore.
My father don’t talk to me because 

He's long since gone

Flown far away from the words to this song.

I call my girlfriend up on the telephone

She says,  "Joe, I'm not your girlfriend anymore"

And hangs up the phone.

Nobody talks to me anymore.

I call my doctor on the telephone

He says, "hello, is there anybody there"?
I say, "it's me, Joe, doctor help me, nobody talks to me anymore!"
My doctor coughs and hangs up the phone.

Nobody talks to me anymore.

I call on my priest in the church down the road

I say "Hello, Father? my Father, is that really you?"
"Please tell me, dear Father, what should I do?"

My priest says "Joe, God don't love you anymore"

And throws me out through God's front door.

Even God don't talk to me anymore.

So, I go down to a bar to have a little swim.

There's a bar stool there where the Cross should have been

The bartender looks at me,
But he doesn't say a word.

I hold up *******  pointing up at the sky
So he pours me a double, ten-year-old rye.
Which I toss down and motion for another
All the while calling him "my brother".
The bartender stares at my face
As silent as the stone sleeping inside of that wall.
Nobody talks to me anymore.



On the street, the headlights blind my blinking eyes.

Strangers push past me, some I know, most I despise.

A cop car pulls up and flashes his bright light on me

The cop points his flashlight in my eyes so that I can't see.
But we already know, there's nothing he or I need to say.

He won't arrest me.
It just ain't worth it to talk to me anymore.

A ghost walks up and stares into my face.
He doesn't say a word; 
just hangs there in space
And  spins ribbons of colored lights

Inside my head.

There's no knowing with ghosts no more
The dead don't talk to me anymore.

Suddenly I see an explosion of lights

There's trumpets and harps and angels in sight
A liquor store, neon vision of light
Promises me the spirits of salvation
 and delight,
If I just step inside.


While next door, a gun store slowly cracks open its door . . .

I am my father and my mother's son and

I’ve never before bought me a gun,
But nobody, nobody talks to me anymore.

Igor Goldkind © 2018
Written in January;  predictive enough but sadly not amazingly so.
Feb 2018 · 424
Own What You Own
Igorgoldkind Feb 2018
Own What You Own

Learn to recognize your own history.  
Like the grass before a scythe
****** is after all
A sort of suicide.
The sacrifice of someone else's self.

Like the granting of a favour
For the sake of your own insecurity.
Or out of  jealousy for what we covet
From those in whom we can no longer recognize,
The better part of our selves.

~ Igor Goldkind

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EdRT56WK7Q
Nov 2017 · 182
Your Soul
Igorgoldkind Nov 2017
Your Soul

So who is this Soul that you sing of?
This silent witness
Who counts the leaves off  of trees  
instead of gathering them?
Then raking them into a funerary circle,
Into a giant pile, your better self will fall from,
Or jump into?
Up to your eyeballs,
Up to your own little crown of thorns.
Nov 2017 · 268
The Third Act of Creation
Igorgoldkind Nov 2017
Igor Goldkind and John Kingsmill will perform TrypTych: The Third Act of Creation in its entirety  at tonight’s Art and Poetry event in Balboa Park around 7.30 pm

With authors Tomas Gayton, Jim Moreno, and Chris Vannoy. People’s Choice Poem Performance Awards follow featured readings and performances. DJ Gill Sotu will provide music and sound throughout the show. This interactive arts and culture experience will include beverages, snacks, and plenty of time to mingle. Bring a snack or beverage to share and get in free. Info: 619-957-3264.

  When:   Friday, November 10, 6:30 p.m. to 9:30 p.m.
  Where:  San Diego Art Institute1439 El Prado,
San Diego, 92101

https://www.sandiegoreader.com/events/2017/nov/10/poetry-art-at-sdai-fri-sept-22-gayt/?et=219255#
Oct 2017 · 1.1k
Ode to Victory
Igorgoldkind Oct 2017
Ode to Victory

Steel and rain-splattered chrome
Shield the gyroscopic Dharma Wheels
That just keep on spinning,
Keeping me Upright,
Flying through the air.

I am Sonic
My dominion is the horizon
Between desire, destination and the rumbling between my thighs.
My engine is as powerful as my mind.
As strong as 80 Horses that pull me over this curve of Earth.

Victory, you succumb to my hands,
And the shift of my weight on your saddle
We are living gravity together:
Whitman’s body-electric,
Just beneath the ***** aroma of engine oil and gasoline.

Riding on the back of the California black striped serpent
From San Diego to Santa Rosa
To the very edge of madness
And back again,
Victory, you deliver me from myself,

You growl when I awaken you in the morning,
Nearly choking on your petrol cough.
Occasionally, you sputter complaints at me when I ride you up that hill
But your joy at reaching the summit
Is the sweet surrender to a gravity we both crave.

Victory, your piercing gaze illuminates the night.
All fog of air & mind flee desperate before your flight.
You are the clear sky after the rain: the clarity before thought or rhyme
Our momentum keeps us running ahead,
Out of reach, of God and death and time.

©Igor Goldkind 2017
Oct 2017 · 299
There is No Escape
Igorgoldkind Oct 2017
None of us gets paroled

From the prison cells we lock ourselves into.


So that we all can fit together inside

These jigsaw lives that we lead
.

Which  of course, eventually all blow apart.
We are merely the fragments waiting to be reassembled.

Every moment of thought is but a small drop in time.

Each piece fits the next piece.


Although we may try to avoid,

The murmurs of our own thoughts. 


It is our hearts that yawn and awaken slowly

From their long winter night’s sleep.

You and I are mere mortals, 

Who dreamt of a life without end.


We are the ones who make up immortality. 

For the sake of seeking sweet comforts and sad joys.


This is the story we tell ourselves
Whilst slumping back to our cells.
Oct 2017 · 201
The Bullet from My Gun
Igorgoldkind Oct 2017
I
am
propelled
like
a
bullet
from
a
gun
barreling
through
space,
­Through
your
flesh,

Through
the
time
you
have
misspent
on
this
E­arth
now
ending,

Too
late
to
regret
the
bending
trigger
of
my
gu­n.

I
penetrate
your
******,
Your
Mind,

Your
sense
of
inner
self­,

Tearing
through
your
false
resistance
like
a
runaway
train.


cannot
stop,
I
am
momentum
personified.

Ripping
through
your
ma­ny
lives,

Decimating
your
hopes
for
the
peaceful
tomorrow
that
n­ow
will
never
come.

Because
my
trajectory
is
certain
and
yours
i­s
a
wet
pipe
dream.
You
are
obliterated
into
fragments
by
the
cur­ling
of
my
finger.

Now
Isis
will
never
find
you.

Fear
is
a
man’­s
best
friend,

And
a
little
pressure
goes
a
long
ways.
Oct 2017 · 313
The Truth of Beauty
Igorgoldkind Oct 2017
An aesthetic is a polished stone of truth.
Where beauty shines its insight
Onto a multitude of reflective curves and planes.

Small wonder the world smiles upon the couple.
Who have shifted the surfaces they slipped from.
Orpheus and Eurydice reunited:

Having finally tripped out of the cave and into the sun.
Their outward smiles shining with the inner joy of a sight regained:
Love is the greatest beauty of them all.
Oct 2017 · 475
The Heart's Flesh Awakening
Igorgoldkind Oct 2017
Your breath on my cheek as dawn warms our bed.
I need to press your flesh to mine
The hard melts the soft
and we are one again.
 
We will never stop making love
In our hearts, in our minds
In the sheet, we've wrapped around each other
I am only waiting
With deepening breaths
For the dawn when you open your wings to me again
That I might drink deep from the warm dew
That rises from your lips to mine.
 
This burning for your wet warmth will never abate
Until you are folded into me again
Feeling the solid earth turning under you
Cradled in my arms.
 
Without a reply, I know not whether my words touch you
Or merely annoy.
Shall I silence this ardour that will not rest?
Or shall I keep lending music to our passion that I might (someday),
Open your heart long enough for me to slip back inside again.
Oct 2017 · 409
my heart is . . .
Igorgoldkind Oct 2017
My heart is ticking like a bomb,
Beaten like a dusty rug,
Still ticking like a bomb.
Unbroken, unwavering
But ticking like a bomb
Not unbruised
Not yet fatally wounded
Still  ticking like a bomb
My heart is....
Strong but not hard.
And ticking like a bomb
Safe in its own discontent.
My heart is...ticking like a bomb.
Oct 2017 · 217
Water Falls
Igorgoldkind Oct 2017
Water falls from bright thin air.
It falls like hair,
overflowing a young girl's shoulders.
Waterfalls make pools in the asphalt,
***** mirrors with clouds and buildings inside.
And blinking bleeding neon lights.
Water falls on the roof of my house and the rest of my life.
It falls on my mother and on my hair.
It falls like mercy on the good and the unaware.
Water falls on you
But most people call it rain.

— The End —