They make their cases day by day
In genetic flesh, they hide within the souls of some
They know their days will soon be done
In rancid places within their hearts of hate
they stalk their prey of ignorance dumb
When you lay your wit to sleep,
you open doors whereas they creep
Cold hearted to the will of man,
of wars and lies of blackness be
of death, of cries for stolen liberty
They stalk to propagandize
through greedy men in sweet disguise
to control and bend you to their will
Knowledge is our only hope
to them knowledge it is their hanging rope


A revision

These are human tears
I say,I say.
They're down my cheeks they roll
and baptize away my past
feelings suppressed.

These tears of sometimes joy or sadness
and everlasting human connections, connecting to my
inner worlds exposing outward revelations.
These revelations through my saline
liquid rushing down my cheeks;
soaked from my reddened eyes.

These my friend are feelings
both good and bad, these liquid representations
of hurt and gain
and of both joy and pain.

Existential to the core my eyes
do show my dripping soaked Windows
of my soul...

RW Dennen (c) 4/29/2010

Ancient trees of majesty
   why reach your arms in excellency?
Why skim the clouds and pierce the stars,
    to stand so bold as warrior Mars?
Why be a thing of children's play,
     and watch the scene where lovers lay?
  Why touch the hearts of young and old?
      Why change your leaves from green to gold?
   Why dip your arms in pools below
       and float your leaves as falling snow?
    Why whistle tunes on winds of high
         why whistle tunes as winds go by?

     I waited from dawn to dusk you see
     for these ancient trees soon whispered to me

      We grasp the day
      We grasp the night
      We grasp the fowl on earnest flight

       You give us  breath which we repay
            we mold your health in loving way
        We climb these hills and mountaintops
             and spread our green as greenery crops
          We house these creatures in wooden shacks
              and feel the cut of the woodmen's axe
          We watch the peace and wars go by
               and suffer pestilence without a cry
            We dance and sway on winds of old
                to tell our stories far untold..

This is a lyrical poem which can be accommodated by
       Enya's "The memory of trees"
Author of poem is--RW Dennen of Hello Poetry
Thank you kindly

Around the eighties the Mumers New Year Parade in Philly
lost a bit of its tradition. It originally was made for
the average working family. But around this period
people were charged to watch them do their famous strut
and extra displays of course only at City Hall.
And so let us begin my poetic story...


Standin' among the crowd,
watchin' blue police-van-bleeders
being escorted; wearin' city-steel-wrist-braclets

And now struttin' my way,
psychopathic eclipsers
of physical freedom
seekin' potential comatose heads
to tap

And squads of finger thrusters
of back pockets for targets,
dart in and out of crowds,
quickly countin' their *****
in dark unseen places

Feet freeze
as sounds travel,
" Oh dem golden slippers"
soundin' like cheap tin toy Kazoos
and toy glockenspiels

The wind kisses
my **** end blue
as a flyin' Budweiser
kisses my right foot wet

Man made pop art
reflects the times
at the times
at Broad and Spruce
of cigarette butts,
chocolate wrappers,
and crushed beer cans
climaxin' montage
of the mountain- ****** eighties

Boozers and blue
sweet puffers
wearin' smiles
outside
and within most inner thoughts
puff-buffed away from some reality
step in cadence to their
own music within themselves

And wailin' children
havin'
more sense
than adults
become early sacrifices
to the fruit of Bacchus

The marching high strutters of "Big Bird",
they strain and struggle under the weight
of heavy hernia suits;
with feathers and sparklers,
their instruments wrestle as steamy air puffs shoot forward
from their nostrils
like  red-devil-painted-dragon faces
in the bitter cold air
warmly protected by their attire and *****,
they stop seemingly for eternity,
in the suspended purgatorial
halts
one after another,
only waitin'
for the grandstand reserved section
around City Hall
Yet we wait and pray together
that perhaps like in the older days
we will get a sneak of
a nostalgic, spontaneous,
free dance-strut
that never comes

Attached, yet unattached
and cryin' inside;
always on guard
for flyin' and drunkin' fists
or flyin' articles
of all sizes
Seein'  through
the facades of we must act
like ha! ha! ha!
I cry inwardly
with anger
doin' the rat-tat-tat
of no more nonsense
of my inner-self
Strivin' and movin' to flee Freddie Kruger's bladed fingers
I sting all over,
my teeth clinch with anger,
darkness intensified
The crowd becomes uglier,
blackness
engulfs
black souls
Vehement, crazy,
hordes and hordes of frustration bellows
outward
The call of Nietzche,
The ouch under my skin

This damnable real parade
not shown in Liberace-livin'-Color

No commercial breaks of luxury cars
that drive livin' manikins
Livin' manikins that wear dial under their arms
while smilin' the brand of Crest toothpaste
but instead,
a street drunk with
broken ugly teeth
as he begs for quarters
and blows his odorous breath
beyond description

And City Hall payin'-grandstanders
with tv cameras
bein' in the spirit of "Disneyland"
presents
the overly organized narcissistic prostituted
elegance of forever, floatin', bouncy,
dancy, prancy,
skippin' to the tune
of  mom's Apple pie,
a small slice of my reality

And the applaudin' money makin'
TV grandstanders
of goody goody
look mom I can do the swan dance
while holdin' multiple
colored sparklers
wrapped in feathers
But why must I
see through the eyes of a Godless Nietzsche,
**** it!!

Drive a hummer in Amsterdam,
protest their red-light district,
claiming Pat Robinson sent you.

Preach that marijuana
should only be for medical reasons
Hard liquor is great for your brain, liver
and all vital organs

Go into a Synagogue recite a Mein Kamf
passage
Meanwhile, triple cross your fingers, your toes and hastily
leave shouting praises to Adolph

Go into an expensive Italian restaurant,
whip out a can of Dinney Moore stew,
open can up meanwhile sing loudly "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling"

After all this, check yourself in because without doubt
you are seriously ill

We're GIANTS on a toy-top spinning-speck
space-bound swallowed;
joining harmonics
in gyrating clock work's working;
catching gears of time's time
circling Ra's warmth

We're GIANTS on a toy-top spinning-speck
bellicosing great power's glory;
dwarfed into a vast cosmic oblivian
likened to a speck
of plankton
in a whales belly

Cow dung waste:
churning together
grass with water
later passed through and left behind,
grow more grass!

Politicians words:
churning together
holy-hallow words,
grow more votes!

Poets words:
churning
on paper,
unread cautious wisdom words
grow more silver fish!

What sights
are seen around
this flower cart
The ever changing
sea of humanity
The exciting sounds
that shout about life,
young and old alike
living to the fullest
and some unfortunately not
Young and old busying themselves
in fast-foot-paces
Vendors of every
nationality pre-existing into one nation
Besides a lot
of people stopping long enough...
to buy and smell the flowers


I raise my petals
to the sun,
sitting in this whitened
cart
a fragrance
bundled joy...
Please take me home
and gently whisper close to me...
I'll send you
     to
     my
     love
           forever be


Filled to the brim
with goodies for your nose
and colors for your eyes,
while in the middle of beehive hustling
this whitened cart
of ours holds
little flowery kisses
helping to kiss away
your hectic day
Here time stands still for you
and entwined magic leafy
flower wands
help change your worldly view
A kindly wink from nature
     A kindly gift from you...


I once fantasized
a fantasy
of lilacs
of ferns of forget-me-nots
and many more

All herded two by two onto a pushing
ark-cart of white

But soon a flood of humanity
encircled that ark-cart you see
And soon they stormed their
yearnings for fresh fragrance
for lilacs
for ferns
for forget me notes
and many more

And the outcome was a pleasant
calamity as you can easily see
For those blossoms were
all swept overboard,
caught in the wavy arms
by the sea of humanity...

I realize the ripple effect that monstrous attack in Paris
caused by Isis. But no matter what, do not let these events
make us prisioners from freedom. Ben Franklin himself warned that to seek so much security is to give up our freedom; so here goes...

They walk into darkness
exiled from fear

Relinquished               cerebral thoughts,

freedom wanes,

dissolved                      into                rote-r­eality,

into a spirit of ****,

cast                    downtrodden,

embracing submissive bogus security

STOP!
CROSS ON GREEN ONLY!
ONE WAY!
WARNING DO NOT ENTER PRIVATE PROPERTY!
NO TRESPASSING!
NO LOITERING!
VAGRANTS WILL BE PROSECUTED!
DEAD END!
Oooh my, can't stand this any more sooo...

...Felt a strange urge
in my legs
jumped into my car
wanted F R E E D O M,
craved   F R E E D O M,
freedom away from
this imprisoning sign-city

Felt the true call of nature
Felt my natural urge to e x p a n d
needed my
ROAMING grounds
once more

Fled for o p e n country s p a c e s
where FREEDOM reigns
like, like refreshing droplets of spring water

BOLTED out of my car
where mother earth
cushioned my feet,
caressed me,
hugged me,
And go so far as to say,
even crawled into my jeans
and heard harmonious
chirping birds

Felt this strange twinge
in my calves
Ran like a deer
Ran into e x p a n d I n g  o p e n  s p a c e s
                                  flight
Felt my legs take
practically off ground

Felt twigs, grass and weeds
gently stroke my ankles and calves
Felt country refreshing cool air
breeze my whole body;
and whizz
up my nostrils
BUT SUDDENLY!!
I trip over something,
it's a rusty large sign reading,
"KEEP OUT INTRUDERS WILL BE PROSECUTED
PRIVATE PROPERTY"

Warm oozy-melted words
  over tangy heated
saucy sentences.
  Poetry of crunchy
crusted rhythms.
  Scattered mushrooms
and pepperoni characters
  I eat hearty my poetry in pizza...

RW Dennen  ( c) 12/27/09

There is a stillness
that lies beyond the tallest trees;
beyond the quiet nesting
of daylight summer birds

Halfheartedly
I am reluctant
to close my weary eyes,
to miss this beautiful cool
refreshing bliss
of serenity once more
bound in endless flow

How contemptuous a nightly lull
that breaks the sun's disquietness
of the day,
renders day into night,
and twilight shadows
that playfully scorn
our daytime senses

We are all rocked in the cradle of mother night
she sings
her veiled and peaceful
insightful sound
I suckle
like so many others
on her breast of cool refreshing peace
I absorb her calming black-night-lactose
that gently whispers to sleep
the energetic day child
within us all
As cool water consumes fire
As night consumes the heated day

I think beyond
the stars
that now shine
the past starry nights
I think about trillions upon trillions
of stars overwhelmed
by the black empty
outer limits
that encircle and distantly
embrace them

I think about
the greater part
of the universe,
making ours and all other
daylight galaxies appear
but like so much dull
insignificant fluorescent glow
And because how mind boggling,
awesome and vast
is the eternal cosmic night sky

And how belligerent to think
all galaxies' day-suns
like our Sun,
being the all powerful
when they are but only
minuscule stars winking and
swimming passively
in the greater awesome devouring blackness

LOOK NOW!...a comet
streaks across the heavens
like a rapid musicians
hypnotic metronome
then stops
then fades away
while the rest of the heavens
sing along
in blinking symphony  

Influenced by my most
inner ease
my total being joins
this starry rhythm
I sway like a calm breezy lull
and half shuffle
my feet
over the midnight countryside
of stillness...
... ever sooooo...gently

Shadows
  and warm hearts.
Evening whispers
   in gentle staccato;
breaking silence
  Lips upon lips
enchanted warmth; rushing of lust.
  Further entrenchment with
entwining flesh upon flesh.
  Our heated breathing;
the nirvana of sweetened glandular
  Aphordite's love-perfume.
My heat against your heat,
  climaxing into passion's hard embrace.
Embraced by Dionysus into
life-death-death-life dance.
We soul-swim in warm waters...

RW Dennen (c)  11/24/09

Oooh pleeeaaaseee
society
May I have
just one leaf
even a stump of a tree?

Can you not put your
machinery down just for
a moment or two?

Relax just please think awhile
be that that beautiful child
you really want to be
come romp with me  This I plead

beyond my dignity
upon a bended knee
I'll be with hands clasped upward
you bully ******* you know
you are!

Sorry for the name I said
but you act insane
because we are all to blame
by not reminding you
where your roots are

You're as soupy as
all you ****, all single cells like you,
that once floated in the beginning of all beginnings
Each death's stroke you take
you shake the same boat
you are standing in
How ignorant can your life be
does it not mean much?
But it does to me!

A  belated "Hallows Eve" poem
I dare you to read and sleep well tonight
he he he !!!


...Wisp of the willow
waning of sun
Sounding breezes
in "Willow-Wisp-Run"

Sail on the night air,
phantoms will scare
with gathering of night clouds
in darkness of air

Moon on the dark side
as dead leaves fall,
visions of shadows
embracing us all

Phantoms caress us
on a dancing wind
Their breath be of coldness
upon your goose-bumping-skin

Green eyes of burning
night phantoms we see,
your body will shiver
your soul to be free

Night specters in black
in "Willow-Wisp-Run"
like black-widow spiders
and sticky-webs spun

Down the dark basement
a slithering spot moves
enticing phantoms
to eat of its ooze

Death now surrounds you
in thickness air
Flies on the ceiling
and foul smelly air
Blood splashed in crmson
like a phantom's stare

Screeching of night things
hooting of owls,
the sound of these spirits;
the dancing dead,
breath comes in tremors,
feet cannot run
feeling the night air;
wishing the sun

Whispering willow,
waning of sun,
voices of phantoms
in "Willow-Wisp-Run"

I see your song;
feel your melody

Your singing eyes
looking right into me

We feel our peace,
dancing heavenly

To feel your arms
wrapped in rhapsody;
violins beckon,
you to me

We kiss on lips
in rhythmic fantasy

I hear your heart
beat drum-songs to me

Let singing cupids sing so softly,
about our love in symphony

The dancing stars
wink joyfully,
upon two loves,
in melody

The curtain falls,
on cord's romance
to play our song
give love a chance...

Shepard in a field,
crucified upon  a wooden fence
Your grieving flock was scattered
worldly

Liberty's book was swiftly plunged into
the blood of bigotry
Fascism laughed in tones of red, white and blue

Land where our fathers died
Land where our bigots hide
I say to you Amen...

I love Jesus;
you must too
resounded these hollow
words

Hate is now the doctrine
intertwined morph-boiled into fear and hate,
being poured over enlightenment
in destruction of green lands
engulfing
youthful sprouts
in destructive steamy waters

The book of Leviticus
is the demise of reason
fractured from critical thinking;
allocated to the current pulped-swine,
swaying in hypnosis listeners of these pulpit-swine-beasts;
they embark with twisted trepidation's disdain

Shepard in other fields of life
into brute submissions
you will succumb being baptised
in your own red pools,
being smitten by the pulpit-swine-listners
of ancient prophets

The dirge, the slow dirge is heard
throughout our delicate land

Ooh sweet brilliant Oscar, we still suffer
as you had
my brilliant Irish lad

I love Jesus
you
must too
My country tis not for me
sweet land of bigotry
to thee I sing, to thee I sing...

What golden hearts
seek other souls of gold
What gentle tears roll down from
weeping eyes of red
For escaping hearts
run against the gauntlet from the past
a trodden road that lingers on to ever last
In sadness rendered, comes the twilight from
the dim
to feel the freedom of brightness light within
Comes the brightness your smiling eyes reveal
a radiant countenance of warming flesh and not of steel
What cherished thoughts
I lay them at your feet
your accepting love
and searching eyes so dearly sweet
It's you and me my radiant dove,
illuminating
a sparkling brightness
of our love...

Do our loved ones
once deceased return
to us in dreams?

When we walk in fields
with them
side by side
and chat, and smile, and laugh
and cry?

Is death hastily forgotten
like so many pebbles cast
into pools ever so deep?
And not thinking
the absurdity of their death
long past gone
paid by
our loved ones
that now talk to us?

Ooh what sweet dreams
are made of
that brings
us once again
to our beloved
once long past,
only to be awakened
in the morning
by unbearable
fleeting...
        ...heartbreaks

Moments of total nothingness,
you don't deserve it, just because you're unknown
Your greatest virtue lies within
your inner dialogue between one
Your audience smiles at your achievements,
as you look into a mirror applauding a reflection
Prolific insight woven and painted by your pen
is sadly wasted, unraveled and sloshed by bias
esoteric and snobbish, the twins of bias,
sit on high poetic mountains of celebrity,
while filing away your non-read thoughts into
deep, deep trashcans

Out of time
TICK...TICK...TICK...TICK
Out of money, out of rhythm, out of rhyme, without a dime
TICK...TICK...TICK...TICK
Borin' days, yawnin' nights, mischief wins
TICK...TICK...TICK...TICK
Stealin' cars, goin' to bars, Whorin' up,
snortin' stuff
TICK...TICK...TICK...TICK
Goin' to jail, out of bail
TICK...TICK...TICK...TICK
Behind bars with badman movie stars
TICK...TICK...TICK...TICK
Was out of time, now in with time
TICK......................................................TI­CK...............................................TICK............­................TICK ( phew! still more to come)............................................................­...TICK

I unscrewed my belly button and my **** fell off

This is to pay homage to our very smart calico-color-cat
She talks too much even talks back and on her collar
a heart-shaped name-tag bears her name, "Reese"
being the lover of people...



You see, too many other behaviors so lovingly insane
she bears a reflection in short verse
I can only explain...

You see, she gives a parlor welcome
by rolling on the floor
our feline watchman
for the opening of the front-room door

You see, she sits so
like the sphinx
upon the sea of sand
so reverent, so silent, so grand

You see, she thinks she's Cleopatra
gliding across the room
chasing imagined whatevers
in an endless purring tune

You see, she likes to:
Side swipe, give a loving bite, bump a head,
be on our bed, dizzy dance, be in a trance
kiss her head, eat with love, tap our leg, and
open our bedroom door...WOW!!!

You see, watching furry *****,
her crumpled way to sleep
sleeping in many places curiosity to seek
and once upon your leg-bed
so cozy, so warm, so deep

You see, she's the lion in Africa
on an earthy colored rug
chasing toy animals
and an imagined turtle dove

You see, she drops her favorite toy
besides our bedroom door
making trust and love
will forever endure

You see she dashes up our steps
and flies all around;
practicing for tryouts- seemingly-
as a dashing circus clown

You see, with her sorcerer's spell
think or mention her name
then BAM!!...out of the blue
she's walking in your domain

You see, her hiding in foliage
is nothing but a chair
ready to playfully pounce
upon a toy duck in despair

You see, her eyes of staring wisdom
burrow right into you
A beautiful loving feline
from the university of feline U

You see, she gives us orders
what not to do
because her alma mater is feline U

You see, she's cat-dog-human
perplexing as can be
Makes one wanna climb
the highest nearest tree

You see, she licks her coat of colors
of Reese peanut butter candy cups
of brown and dark and milky chocolate
one of her many ups

After all, this list keeps growing
and must be cut short
I must collect my thoughts, for many things to sort...

Thank you and Reese says, "MEOW." (as always)

Now the quiet settles upon the plains
Whereas the saddened heart no longer remains
You fought your ancestors fight for freedom rights
inundated in baptismal water in freezing nights
Even braved the growling hounds
Feared not the shielded men of so-called law
You danced your chants and danced so ever tall
and saved the water for us all
for Came the Ancestors To The Call...

For all warriors at standing rock...

Swaying fields of wheat
A quick downward eagle's swoop,
a dance of nature

RW Dennen-

Screech your eerie
echoing song
Flutter wings and spin
against a cool
blackened starlit-night

Then gently sail your
dark silhouette
across a summer
GIANT pox-marked moon

And gently skim
this bright lunar-face
with wing-tips
of brownish-white           Then

dive in sudden Grace,
scissor-angled wings enclosed
Then freely dip
on upper ******
to catch your tiny insect prey             Then

stretch your wings
to form a widened Vee
Then glide on
spiral flowing endlessness
to screech your fleeting
summer song
in a star-lit; moon-lit sky
your song for lover's love
that ushers forth
the dark
in
eerie haunting
melody                   Reverberate

your haunting call
once again
Soon find your airy path;
fly away from here;
take chant of night with you,
leave silent stillness left behind
in darkened sky                               Now


a final distant screech
  then hush,
your fleeting
  summer song
of night

                 in
                        my
                                mem­ory...

What desirous riches we crave
to return our destinies
for paradise
sights and nights,
filled with glittering starry portals
And to feel the air of day and night
abound with blissful
restfulness and sleep
Ooh how we
dream
note that dreaded dream
but dreams of peace at rest

Aaaah to
return only within a second
and relearn what nature has to give
and only what we're allowed to take

And to listen to the shakers of the earth
growl their pristine craves
And to feel that solemn rest once more
the return to freshened softened earth around our barefoot
toes
and to regain freedom spatial
b o u n d l e s s n e s s  LOST but only
regained at last in dreams reposed...

Wanting you dearly
Needing you clearly
Severely in love

RW Dennen-

Don't  cry baby
  For I'll be near;
I must go, my journey ends;
  so touch and kiss my picture upon the wall

Don't cry baby
  All is fine, just journeying and drifting
to a different timeless-time

Don't cry baby
  Life begins, beyond the stars,
    where spirits sing on high regards
to saddened hearts aching somberly,
  like slow breaking hearts and slow breaking waves
      upon a tearful saddened sea

Don't cry baby
  remember you; remember me;
let beautiful remembrances forever be
  about just you alone, alone with me

Don't cry baby
  Think of you and think of me;
with two hearts merged into one;
  walking hand in hand into infinity...

I just want to be
a Duke of a Universe
is this too much to ask?
I could use
The Black Hole as a pool pocket
and the planets as pool-*****
and declare you
Vice Duke inspecting graffiti
on planet restroom walls,
and you report to me
those words of wisdom
of Plato, Nietzsche, Kilroy and cornbread...

I just want to watch
comets streek across
the heavens
and watch tiny pulsars blink minute rotations,
and newly created stars explode
and belch their heavenly gases
And see masses and masses
of nebulae
stretching outward
like blowy-toy-pinwheels
And I'll take the " Big Dipped"
and dip it in the " Milky Way"
while playing marbles
with tiny asteroids
And use the heavens as my
painter's canvas
and splash on newly Constellations
And use the many Suns
to warm my chilly hands,
The return from farthermost
planets of Sunless Lands

Oh my BOSS!!
I'm getting too serious
as you can easily see
And why worry?
Because I'm already
a Duke of a Universe,
The talk of the playground campus
The talk among every prominent
Neo-Freudian and Neo-Skinnerian
The talk about my wisdom writings
found near almost flushing toilet
at "QUACKSVILLE UNIVERSAL UNIVERSITY"
Here come the med cart
Here come the med cart

That's all folks

The city buzzing
then the ceaseless cease.

The devoured Sun,
horizon seeks
to **** in last rays
absorbed
always waiting for dawn.

Then stars slowly
are splash-sparkeled
upon our black ceiling.

But now
a city metamorphosis,
spaces seemingly expand
as people dwindle-down
and echoing shoes abound.
And the night phantom stalks
to spread his expanding cape
while male alley cats serenaded
with strident love songs of blue-*****.

And obsessions rise under a werewolf moon,
the crooning of a barooom tune
while the city out-light-winks
its squared-eyed goodnights.

Caucasians and noncaucasions
become night brothers
by sharing similar oblivions...

...and we sink within our deep dreamy sleep
being snatched by
the penumbra
of  unconscious thoughts.

And other awakened languished
thoughts
wane into a city goodnight...

i always wanted to write about the true heroes
It's not about hockey stickers or football kickers;
face punchers, these million-dollar-heroes, they manifest no social change
It's about us the people, it's about you and me
It's about free givers who give of themselves for the good of mankind
It's about free changers who freely make change for the good of mankind
That's it, hmmm, changers and free givers?
Oh yes! Free changers in the face of diversity
and against any form of oppression,
never be apathetic to what is right
Never become fearsome in knowing what is right
Stand up for all your brothers and sisters,
here on our delicate planet earth
Say never to the numbskulls, who disbelieve in change,
even at times trying to educate some
When hearts go forth and attach to others
is the beginning of a selfless human being
When the sun never seems to rise,
join other heroes along the way
Everyday count your blessings what you and I fought for
Altruistic motivation is the greatest catalyst for real heroism,
take advantage of it my heroes and potential heroes;
i love you guys, keep on truckin'

Dancin'  shadow on dat wall,
white-blues-boy sing yawl song,
harmonica cry, guitar scream,
to dat beat beat so sweet song,
dat dancin' shadow is ah swayin'
in ma head.
Yawl blues echo like dat shiftin' breeze
and shiftin' bayou winds in time dat blow
so sweet, like da shiftin' silt and sounds on breezy thoughts
about red fiery dusks.
Yawl black shadow on dat wall
dances like dah vanchee* in heat.
Clamorous mixture is dat beat
frum dat white-blues-boy smooth-song
dat fills dat *** in heat of vanchee*calls
and his shiftin' black silhouette on dat wall,
dat smooth-song black man yawl becum...


RW Dennen (c)  2008

Those stones I think about everyday
Bill Perry and his posses' never hidden truth, endear each soldier down to rest
He gathers people near and far to plant the seeds of a golden star

A golden star not of shame
A golden star all the same
We watch and see the people cry to touch their loved ones long gone by

On stones these fingers do caress
On stones I feel the emptiness
On stones that should not be
On stones of a written eulogy

A bugle echoes taps to all
A boatswain pipe returns its call
To salute our gone by kindred all...

Remember that day of the phony "Mission Accomplished"
day, when thinking people viewed him in that jump suit with that extra crouch stuffing, and when your face turned
so red you felt liking ducking under anything available?
Well, here comes my writings about it, READY?...be brave...
be very brave...

You strutted on Lincoln steel;
not knowing what lay behind that thin-lipped-corporate-gah-gah-smile

Offshore a fool's victory you did declare
A vulture's feast you ushered in
as many sulfur dances engulfed both air and skin

What rooster pride you strutted on Lincoln steel,
while bulbs exploded in heated flare

How I remember you took that flight,
with a pseudo-manly-stuffed-buldge you said, "I 'm all right!"

In nightmares I see your faking smiling grin, as houses crashed
and innocent died, as flames created a reddened sky

Halloween-cowboy, flyboy-suit, a monster lurked on Lincoln
steel
And so, bulbs exploded in heated flare to land upon a nothing stare, to land upon a nothing stare,
to land...upon...a...nothing...stare

Sign dictates on bike path, " 7 miles an hour"
I say, " Oh ****, now I can't go 25 miles an hour,
perhaps 20 or even 15, and I hope there is no "Bike Cop"
hiding behind some rock, bush or tree with a little "bike siren".

Sign dictates in an "open air train station", " No Smoking"
I say, " Oh ****, I hope he or she doesn't come up to me
directly and blow smoke in my face, I would really be *******."
I also hope that these mounds upon mounds of butts don't
stop me from walking even though "biodegradable"

Bus driver dictates, in front of bus, "Read the sign before leaving, please do not step past yellow line"!!
I cringe at the thought that my big toe goes over that ****
yellow line. If so, do you think that the driver will abruptly
stop the bus and throw the tip of your toes out the bus?
If so, I guess that the rest of your body would have to go as well!!!

Oh well, we live in a society, of some unnecessary mazes, and it gets worse and worse!! For that I give the "BIG *******!!!!!!" (PS just messin' wit ja )

I know Jim and his crow must go
Way down yonder where the first was hatched,
these crows grew BOLDER in the voting patch
Way up north and all around the GOP laid
their nesting ground
A ground made of dust that holds no weigh
like their Jim-birds for heaven's sake!!

With love and respect to a "National Hero" who gave his life
for future goodness. This coming National holiday January 16th 2017
his first name was Martin; let us begin...


And so you came and left Alabama
   on words that blew sharply
piercing even the most covered ear

Great cities welcomed you
   and some did not

Pride from a long struggle
     subdued anger
     bringing about a glimpse
     of worldwide HOPE for everyone
     and all the poor

Prophetic visions were shouted
   in strength to all four corners of the globe

Yet a crucifixion was waiting
for you in the guise of a missile

And too early a wheat was razed,
                                                and the loaf became bitter

Your body was passed from mind to mind
       as we ate of your bitter loaf
And so the dirge-drums were struck
  And so the cadence bowed
      And so the tears were shed
             And so a brother in spirit was dead

All colors mixed in unison-
   And out from that dark cloud appeared a rainbow
And rain tear-cheeks dried
And a resurrection of pride
soon flooded the country-
We all became baptised
                        in blood and truth...

i am a small and insignificant person i listen to the negative
"cannot do"unless I become aware of my true abilities
I become empowered and not listen to the i people
you and I can change  The you i person has the great ability
to change into the you I person also We can be great partners
being you I and me I otherwise there remains total confusion
such as:
you i and  me I
or
you I and me i
or
You i and me i
And if we do this right we get..............:) instead of...................:(
I or i
thank you I or you i ,which one do you choose?

My rising heart sun
    breaks my famished dreams
Your newly song spirit
     touches my happy mind
We sing together with
     singing eyes that sparkle glow
I weave your spirit into mine
      as we feast upon the day sublime
We joke our tickles
       throughout the morn
Two hearts in love
        never to be torn...

I saw time stand still
in a fraction
of a second...peace

Saw it happen
as one touched another in affection...peace

Caught the essence
as Jesus
fed the multitude
and a mother's
smile
nurtured
her seed...peace

Yes, I saw time stand still
when the summer-moon rested
on a chimney top
and laughter ruled the night...peace

Felt temporal illusions
vanish
before a portrait
by Rembrandt,
capturing
the subject's
inner spiritual psyche
as inspired men
cast off their heavy macho ways
and hugged...peace

Yes,
I saw time stand still,
as smiles
lit the darkness
and tears
washed away sins...peace, peace, peace

Forward one, back two, forward one,
back two
A turtle's toil, progress is a distant memory
The collapse of civilizations,
we struggle to struggle
Fortitude bends like willow branches;
encampment of silenced voices

Encumbered by greed-swine
sitting in high places savagely
devouring tax-*****
Their everyday grinding
flesh and bone into greed-blenders

We look at each other, shrug our shoulders,
do giddy little side glances, lower them
And just say, " another day, just another day."

This is somewhat of a surreal writing and so is the title
well here goes...

Foolin' around with chaos
Kickin' at the cosmos
Not quite known' where
my left foot and right foot
really belong

Wondren' if the stains
in my undershorts
are the results
of nicotine  

Imaginin' the Philly goliath
clothing statue around 15th and Market
constructed to clamp
onto Willys Nose

Wittnessin' the  "Parkin' Authority"
rhythmically writin' on pads
their violation ticket songs
to the quarter meters of cash flow

Drizzly watchin'
The multitude of "Ben Hurs"
precariously skim
and fly around the corner
at 16th and Market headin' north  And

seekin' self-infliction
by seriously
tellin' a waitress
that she really serves the best food in town. And
salutin' every Admiral dressed doorman
that I pass. Then later,

overhearin' a good "Samaritan"
tell a street ******
that four roses
can also be sniffed as well

Thoughts of Christ
nailed to the " Charles Schwab" edifice
with a thorny looking crown
made from antiquated ticker tape
His side pierced by
piggy bank breakers,
and the outpouring of green inscriptions
that state, " In God we trust."

All these things
race through the squeaking
reels of my mind already
corroded by seen corruption as a
passing Krishna group's chant permeates
the thick city air
And an unnoticed dying dove raises
its quivering right wing
as if in a last salute to peace

And all too well I know,
how the city devours its youth
like Goya's " Saturn Devouring his Son"

All too soon, in the sunlight
of my benevolent youthfulness within,
a chilled blanket of knowing about ignorance
overwhelms me
Tormented by indefinable tormentor,
The love-lust for life diminishes
and captured by surrounding greed
and torn asunder

Driven away, sitting in Rittenhouse Square,
touched by two lovers
as squirrels
scamper playfully
          over dead dried
                 Autumn leaves...
                         ...that  crackle...