"arraigned" poems
The tightness and the nilness round that space
when the car stops in the road, the troops inspect
its make and number and, as one bends his face
towards your window, you catch sight of more
on a hill beyond, eyeing with intent
down cradled guns that hold you under cover
and everything is pure interrogation
until a rifle motions and you move
with guarded unconcerned acceleration—
a little emptier, a little spent
as always by that quiver in the self,
subjugated, yes, and obedient.
So you drive on to the frontier of writing
where it happens again. The guns on tripods;
the sergeant with his on-off mike repeating
data about you, waiting for the squawk
of clearance; the marksman training down
out of the sun upon you like a hawk.
And suddenly you're through, arraigned yet freed,
as if you'd passed from behind a waterfall
on the black current of a tarmac road
past armor-plated vehicles, out between
the posted soldiers flowing and receding
like tree shadows into the polished windscreen.
3.5k
A walk around the block in my parents’ neighborhood at dawn
wearing mom’s sweater and pop's sneakers with a clown hole cut out for
toe infection
I was stopped by a cop in a cruiser
this was during the Vietnam War long hair ago
he was angry at everyone I was offended by everything
he said which way are you going I said which way are you going
so he socked me in the mouth and handcuffed me
I was arraigned on disorderly conduct and resisting arrest
my good parents came down and stood beside me before the judge
I wrote to the police department internal affairs
not for retribution but to start a paper trail
in case this cop someday bopped one of my brothers
a few months later I’m back at work in NYC
two detectives come into the city to question me
one good cop one bad cop we park in the park me in the back seat
they wanna know was I mouthy to the cop who punched me in the mouth
long story short
they leave me on a bench to eat my lunch and the charges are dropped
Jan 18, 2022
Jan 18, 2022 at 6:50 AM UTC
they sentenced anarchy to death in 1887.
in the wake of the Haymarket Affair,
they tried in vain to hang a fifth figure
on a chilly November day,
attempted to fit a noose
on an idea that's bullet-proof.
solidarity.
liberty.
equality.
a refrain that remains in remembrance
of Engel, Fischer, Parsons, Spies,
and every man, woman, and child
whose life was robbed by the State
before his or her time.
a mantra celebrating the universal
qualities capable of unifying humanity
even in the face of an apparatus arraigned
to divide
and segregate.
we march in Chicago and Seattle,
in Toronto and NYC,
continuing the fight they began
for dignity and a living wage—
our burning rage growing to a conflagration
as we wave black flags and reclaim
the city streets from killer cops
and corporate oligarchs.
authority an illusion we will shed
in the tides of black and red, united
against injustice.
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 11:40 PM UTC
As firm as a rock I would be set
Against the world and its lewd contentions
More steady proving clearest virtue, stressed
With brilliant facets of the light, resolving factions.
A hope amidst the strife, this worth bestows
To character, ruling every passions’ season
For perfect care, great purposes to show
In blooms of time or timeless, sacred reasons!
Converging and uniting, such care met
Life's waking might, more near in sight to shine
With pure intent, whose knowing best reflects
All states, here cast in figures of design.
O dawning vision, pierce the awful night
And horns of plenty pour, true love requite!
When I was young I thought humanity
To be my nurse, my comfort and sure strength;
An eager hope, in every hour to length
Fleet days of wonder, all of life to see.
I cherished kindness, lain upon the breast
Of upright admonitions and good will;
A care of grace, in love, a founding rest
And honor for my vision’s windowsill.
How yet, too soon, cruel condemnations frowned
On ways I blessed in youth, now grown insane
With outward forms, the worldly pride bestows
And falsehood, waking my dread infamy.
Alas, my wasting sorrow and the shame
That groans with silent tears of faith betrayed!
Long hours, cruel hours that vex my wearied soul
With thoughts of contradiction; fawning days
Of youth are closed, in stock of lies arraigned
For inquisition and condemning powers.
What tyrannous and brutal, ruthless ways
That slam this sanctioned slavery overhead;
While bravery endures an awful crime
In contemplate of shame, too stark with dread.
So mock, O State, the way of noble ends
More false, discharge your rotten judgments’ fate;
A greater cause, at last, where first you rend
The back and front of self... my selves berate!
Dare now upon life’s brow your six-thrice brand
And testify! All stripes shall truth withstand.
Apr 14, 2012
Apr 14, 2012 at 10:59 AM UTC
Hypotheses abound, regarding the extinction
of the reptilian hordes, those base or of distinction.
Some aver, and others vow, things must have gone this way
and when I hear such lofty speech, I clear my throat and say:
“It seems to me that when we speak with such calm certitude
we miss the possibility of death by attitude.
For when I look upon these bones of prehistoric herds
I catch a glimpse of simpler times, and then I see the “birds”
For while the stegosaurus trod with stoic steps so slow
I perceive he may have been arraigned as one below
the wild heights of soaring things, with pointed, cackling heads
who mocked him at his every turn (which stegosauri dread)
And so as this terrestrial life was bound to suffer so
The pterodactyls found great fun to drive them all to woe
They drove them off, by day and night, until they were defunct,
the primal victims of a craft; the first to e’er be punk’d”
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
She was found there, by the shoreline, hidden in a plastic bag,
where the ebb and flow of Ocean beat upon Deer Island’s sand.
A little girl, just two years old, in a bright jumper clad
A little beauty beat to death by some brute of a man.
No one could identify the body they had found
so police employed an artist to help them solve the case.
His rendering of “baby Doe” went up all over town.
Soon it was on the internet. “Do you recognize this face?”
They broke the case last Thursday, they finally had her name.
Her Mother and the boyfriend were arrested and arraigned.
Each condemned the other for the ****** of the Babe.
A bronze fawn now commemorates the spot where she was slain.
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC
How Serious should be for this Wonder at
That very same Point locked kisses to the Wall
Whilst these Incarnations modelled Months that
Must never Surprise your Mum's Eye to befall
Why bother? If with Pheromones invite
White Hags and Chicken-Hawks apart from Dames
Should you most Expect to be Drawn in-spite
Your Needed Economy must Split these Pains
Fair you'll accept then our own Business be
Then Hammer these Virtues misinterpret
To ******* bleed as Dodgy Stones flee
Even by Distance un-mind to beget.
Just my Point. To which all such Points deranged
Your Judgment approved; And Verdicts arraigned.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 3:02 AM UTC
*Freezing in the shadow of a skyscraper
The newspaper collectors
Building tents to the ire of city government
"Lighting fires" to calm a cold crazed environment
The unaided dangerous , the unrecognized , 'the ignorant'
The belligerent , the political tool , the ticketed and the
arraigned*
The miffed , the rotten , the gifted , the forgotten
Spoiled , the lofty , the will-do and their atrocity ...
*Blame it on the Jews , point at the homosexuals ,
contain the Christians , foil Muslim aggression , the racist whites
the intolerant blacks , the free thinkers , the wall builders
The contained and the "pyromaniacs"* ...
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 12:46 PM UTC
Some say sad eyes
which they surmise
must have arised
and been incised
by pain
Some say kind eyes
I prefer what this implies
Yet it still decries
What's inside
Yet again
I'm sure they may both be right...
But these are the eyes
I cannot disguise
These are the eyes
In which my soul is contained
So please don't see wise
To see them and apprise
me of my character, and theorise
on what underlies
For it is inane
If the judgement is a guise
and simply improvised
A means to advertise
interest or curiosity, replies
you can ascertain
if conversation you catalyse
conducive to exorcise
unjust judgements implied
by what you have spied (it wasn't just my eyes)
and arraigned...
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 6:57 AM UTC
I was, too.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCIX)
Let's see...rain draws up silver puddles' tale
Of being upon the blacktop, where suspense
Is fast asleep cuz Sunday augured thence
Mair calm than it could e'er endure, the pale
Eye of uncertain hours with half a frail
Thought dawn played hooky for all that, a sense
None can e'en yawn worn out as sheer pretense
Was quite arraigned in morn's half light: sans bail.
I roll words 'cross my tongue at lunch as twere,
And sparrows take the chance to gaily cue
Fond smiles til conversation rules in tour.
Now's time to put on rice to boil anew,
Warm refried beans for dinner, lo, bestir
Me fin'lly to jot down a note...where to?
24Mar19a
Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 12:43 AM UTC