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"epitath" poems
Bull Connor, like the Dutch Boy from Haarlem, put his finger in a hole to plug a burgeoning leak. But Bull Connor, unlike the boy from Haarlem, did not foresee the raging torrents of history, smashing against the crumbling walls of the porous **** he sought to buttress. His decadent heroism held no moral authority to sustain his ungodly labors. His savage dogs, hungry for meat, bent on aggression for a twisted masters bidding were devoured by the teeth of a movement hungry for justice. His water cannons, tiny water pistols, ****** into the mighty squalls of a raging hurricane that blew the stinking ***** back onto his face. The weight of history moves with the just. Untruth, arch rival of justice, is blown away, like an expired candle snuffed out, blessedly extinguished from the first breath of a glorious new day. Bull Connor doesn’t rest in peace. He stands on the other side of the river. He is the rich man driven by insane thirst begging for water from a comforted Lazarus, now secure in the ***** of Abraham. Bull Connor looks across the chasm of fire he knows he'll never bridge. Medgar Evers and MLK Jr. stand as keepers, collecting tolls for a heavenly passage from the wages he earned for his earthly work. A forlorn Bull Connor forever searches deep empty pockets for fare as Martin and Medgar patiently wait with outstretched palms. Music Selection: The Soul Stirrers, Jesus Gave Me Water MLK Jr. Day 1/20/86 NYC jbm
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Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC
Epitath for Bull Conner
Strike the match Write it as my epitath dance in heaven and never come back I am consumed by the magick moon smell the perfume of the girls on the prowl I made a star I made it alive he is everywhere you are You cannot die As I know death is an illusion You have one soul You dance on the ocean I am consumed by the magick moon smell the perfume of the girls on the prowl Join the circle Come get it out Pay your homage To the one all about As I see Through the darkness and sail on the sea With his tender caress I am consumed by the magick moon smell the perfume of the girls on the prowl The beautiful creatures With the beautiful features Who've been condemned and used Since of the beginning of the ruse Oh star child You who run wild come dance awhile with me and everyone I am consumed by the magick moon smell the perfume of the girls on the prowl The sound of the owl The glistening of the star sky The sensual world and its howl With my dog mask I howl for you As I view The girls dancing Around the fire Filled with desire I am consumed by the magick moon smell the perfume of the girls on the prowl of the girls on the prowl of the girls on the prowl of the girls on the prowl of the girls on the prowl
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May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
Magick Moon
I survived the broken heart just fine. It was the collateral damage to my mind that killed me.
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Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 1:32 AM UTC
Epitath
It's a. Cold hard. World out there. Kiddies. Stay safe won't you. Stay sane must you. Stay normal lest you stand out. And become. Destroyed. Oh kiddies. I know. For I'm as cold as frozen nitrogen. Hard as an isolated diamond. Looking for my rough. And it's always a sob story they're singing. Always a love song they're writing. And there's no better torch song than an epitath. Gone. Too. Soon
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Sep 19, 2019
Sep 19, 2019 at 8:40 PM UTC
Eulogies etched in sandstone
There is more to Being than this Life.
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 1:09 PM UTC
epitath