Memes! Angels, aberrations of opposition super standing
overseeing you,

The screamin' heebie jeebies.

Yo, where you wanta go, you axin me we just go

with it, the flow 'know?

What I mean is, are we memes or mes or messes of yeses
gone all johnny rcome late-rotten scarred scared, some thing not so far
from sacred when you put your mind to the whole idea of life being

at all. Thinking this is not easy. We are Able. Our belly's living waters cry out,

you are your brother's keeper, yes, you are.

Be leavin' that be, I am is, and you is,
too. When you apprehend the meme named
war.
That meme has led the me-me mob for as far as men
remember, but
now, machines remember for us, all the facts, just
the facts, ma'am.

Why'd the d go into a comma, Pop?

Welt (Duetch, bitte) Enshaung, glaube ich, vie leicht, aber

are we ever going to filter out these German bleed-overs?
stay tuned, next week the meme beacon is pulled down,

who shall pre or post or ex maybe vail, travail, like
trip
wow, I hate being a 20 year old vet back in the U.S. of A.
FTA All the way, Airborne

*******, Herman Hesse *******
Jorney to and fro the east to west, and soon, et
cetera. Siam is a mere myth now, eh?

As the Narnia thing not called a heathen lie was allowed
allowable in mere Christianity.

I've only seen the English POV's on PBS, they may be filtered through
feedback, meme belching bursting bubbles from new wine 'nold vessels about to plode into eternity, singing along.

Thank you, very much. May I introduce, duce, intro duce, y'gittin this?

Duce means 2 if you see e squeen between, you see that?

Fun. No reason for fun? Who here, now, believes that or, no,
bees leavin' those lies be told?

Hunh? Y'know? Watch man, waht of the night?

See, what I mean? All this from me hearin' some guy say,
"Come and see, like that was  okeh. For any body, n'me, too.

Thinking, as a past-time, is pointless. You know, if you act like it.

http://youtu.be/RGFytiWwsRo
(this is a link to a video that I created for this poem)
Ridgewood (Where We Wait)
We take the most delicious train
to the Queens-Brooklyn border to get here
Where everything is liminal, uncertain, undecided
Even the foundation, Arbitration Rock, at the house on Onderdonk
Was buried for centuries, dug up, and chucked on another imaginary line
The streets are on a grid, and the border on a diagonal
making a stair-stepping hypotenuse of the confused
A challenge to put your time to good use
even on the oz-like yellow brick road on Stockholm
You hear Poles on the street muttering “Marnowanie mojego
czasu tutaj” through the bachata dripping
from the apartments above the stores on Fresh Pond Road

Two of the best restaurants in the boroughs
Rosa’s pizza and Zum Stammtisch mark
the north and south borders of the hill where we wait  
During the seventy-seven riots, Ridgewood
seceded from her stepsister, broke from Boswijk and Breuckelen
-
There’s racism here like carbon monoxide smoke:
at the Ridgewood Y, a man sweats through his shirt
revealing swastikas pierced through the skin underneath
and the Romanian dentist down the street drilling
says “Cred ca am pierd timpul meu aici”
through the machinery scream and burning enamel
she won’t say this if you understand what she means

Walking past the 99 cent stores and the pharmacies,
remembering that there is good, fast, and cheap
But you can only have two of them at the same time,
Crazy Loretta, under her navy knit woolen hat
in her pink sweatsuit and winter coat, smokes
her shaking hand-rolled cigarettes below the train
trestle grinning with her jaw-jutting through
her inch thick specs.  She waggles her chicken bone fingers
saying, “Hiya honey” when you walk by.
If you are brave enough to stop and talk to her,
she’ll tell you that her nephew plays
for the Texas Rangers and her daughter
is a doctor and she’ll probably give you bedbugs
She’ll tell you, fascinated, like a child: “when you squish them - the blood comes out”
She’ll tell you the same thing tomorrow - Loretta forgets.  
In her mind, a phrase like green smoke from her youth
Ich glaube, ich bin meine Zeit hier

The playgrounds are packed with children
practicing how to swear, the girls huddled
reading Twilight like the Bible, and the boys
huddled reading the girls like the Bible
A woman yells to her son to come home a third time
and mutters “Creo que estoy perdiendo mi tiempo aquí”

Buried in Machpelah Cemetary less than a mile from my house,
is the place Houdini is still staging his greatest escape
He has a wide audience.  Sometimes I think there are more dead
residents of Ridgewood than living ones.  The cemeteries stretch
the borders of the appropriate spilling into Christ
the King high school’s front lawn.  Driving Cypress Hills street,
the Manhattan skyscrapers rise looking tomb-toothed parallaxed and
blurry through ephemeral sepulchres, stones, and cement angels pointing at the sky

On one of the stones it says simply: Videor perdo temporis hic
I think we are wasting our time here.

Machmal denke ich günstig für nicht sein,
Denn ich kann nicht zu viel sehr gut machen.
Ich bin zu klein, zu kurz, and nicht klug
Nicht friedlich genug, oder zu verrückt und komisch.
Meine Geschwister meinten das ich bin sehr ägerlich.
Aber meine Freunde hat etwas anderes sagen.
Sie denken ich bin nett and freundlich,
Lustig and vielleicht schon,
Und ein absolut Schlauberger.
Ich glaube sie fast nie,
Aber ich beginne zu sie glauben.

Sometimes I think I'm good for nothing
Because I cannot do too much well.
I am too small, too short, and not smart
Not peaceful enough or too crazy and weird.
My siblings think that I'm very annoying
But my friends have said something else.
They think I'm nice and friendly
Funny and maybe pretty
And an absolute smarty pants
I almost never believe them
But I am beginning to believe them.

Sie halt meine Liebe
Noch im Speicher
Ihre Augen werde ich nie vergessen
Ich sah Gott in ihr wie kein anderer
Wenn ich sie wieder zu sehen,
Wenn dor Tod keine Grenze
Lass es sein, oh Gott, lass es sein

Sie ubt Achtsamkeit in ihrem Gang
Sie spricht, wenn sie spricht
Sie liebt es, wenn sie allein ist
Sie erzahlte mir,
Und ich glaube, sie

Wenn das Ego hingibt Stolz
Wahre Macht gehalten wird
Wahre Liebe aufgedeckt
Und die wahre Wahrheit ans Licht -

Her kiss of days between

She holds my love
Still in memory
Her eyes I’ll never forget
I saw God in her like no other
If I am to see her again
If death is of no boundary
Let it be, oh God, let it be

She practices mindfulness in her walk
She speaks when she talks
She loves when she is alone
She told me
And I believe her

When the ego surrenders pride
True power is held
True love is uncovered
And the true truth is revealed

Ich schätze
Glaube
Ich bin blind

Denn ich konnte nicht sehen
Einfach nicht sehen
Diesen kleinen Unterschied
Zwischen dir
und mir

Ich dachte
Denke
Wir sind gleich

Aber du kannst es nicht fühlen
In dir drin fühlen
dieses eine Gefühl
Ich tue es
du nie.

Ich sah
Sehe
Und du nicht

So wie ich dich sehen will
Uns sehen will

Darum weiss ich
Ich bin
Blind.

who said that ego-tripping was bad?
ego-tripping, a proper definition?
a circumstance of being overly
excited at the ability to not think,
as such a state of excitement
without any thought being pervasively
obstructive, e.g. the story of my life:
http://tinyurl.com/zkleaae,
and the opening words -
             not admitted to a lunatic asylum:
the lunatics claim the moon
is their source of inspiration -
the lesser aesthetic of the sun-basked
marble statue sculptors of
      the classic societies -
nie przyjęty do szpitala -
well, sure, cheap industrial music,
but i always wanted to invoke
the opening sentences on Hanzel und
Gretyl's mein kommandant -
   picking out words from the whittle german entree:
                glaube (faith, inert, without belief)
                                          herzen (
                            concerning hearts,
                                             in action:
               do you have the ability to stir-up hearts?)
           du (you)                  biste
            liebe (love)
                                        treue (loyalty)
          that recurrent du as in: do you?
        but only when coupled with biste,
    hence the: du biste...
                                        every language has
the same formidable defence structures,
   it didn't really take the Chinese to build
the great wall of China to defend themselves...
their ideograms were enough...
                   English thought it was well
defended... but someone spotted its diacritical
nakedness, and someone came by and
inserted a few examples where deviation could
be encouraged...
                             sure, the media damns them
esp. in Western Europe, coming from the East...
or even from Africa... me? i call them
the Kamikaze...                 to me they are the
epitome of the Kamikaze...
                 seeing these grammatical defences
that each language possesses to obstruct integration
in a foreign land... well... my father has a house
and a profession... i have completely authority
of the language that didn't make me into
a prodigal son roofing skyscrapers...
                         i could have allowed this
host language to deal me the poker hand of being
a school janitor (mind you)...
                                          but it didn't...
   this language has no authority over me other than
the type i give it, and i do have intellectual
limitations - as is due for everyone to have -
                but i'm not bound to how people dictate
language in positions of authority...
                    i dictate language from the only position
available: i am the language, and i am not
language attached to some specific role in society
that might enable me to shout down the pyramidal
hierarchy of some embittered authority...
                      yes, sometimes the posit coordinate
of reciprocating existence comes first...
           and thought, like sound from a passing aeroplane
comes much later...
                         but this isn't a debate
about being catholic protestant buddhist or atheist,
        i'm not here for the identifier coordinates to
say i'm so and so... the point is:
                 i know what thought will come along
having staged such a overpowering pompousness
   of a claim... that over version of being self-conscious:
write something ridiculous, and retract from
it, returning to your everyday routine...
                         because that's the only way you're
going too survive in a world of plumbers and electricians:
              and that's not an insult...
                                     it's a way to get by
   what all writers missed:
                      that quasi-Narcissus moment of
seeing a reflection in a blank piece of paper,
           as whatever Narcissus saw in his reflection in
the lake... not self-love for the writers... self-loathing.

ich vermisse dich,
sehr,
sehr,
chère.
mein geliebter,
dein geruch,
deine präsenz.
deine nähe,
deine präsenz.
ich werde verrückt,
ohne dich.
ich funktioniere nicht,
nicht mehr,
ohne dich.
ich vermisse dich,
ich verliere mich,
ohne dich.
wo bist du?
wo bleibst du?
denn,
ich bleibe
bei dir,
bei mir,
bei uns.
vorallem.
ist das fair?
bleibst du bei uns?
oder bist du ein
gefangener,
deiner emotion,
deiner selbst,
deines selbst,
oder eines teiles
uns?
ich hoffe es.
sehr,
sehr,
sehr.
ich liebe dich,
sage ich mir.
oder nur obsession?
ich glaube es ist liebe,
mit einer prise obsession.
einer prise,
unklarer emotionen,
ungewissheit,
untreue.
noch mehr,
ungewissheit.
noch mehr,
unsicherheit.
denn ich liebe dich,
ich schätze dich,
ich respektiere dich.
ich will dich,
mehr,
mehr,
mehr,
als du mich jemals möchtest.
als es du,
dir jemals,
jemals,
vorstellen könntest.
aber ich will,
dich.
mehr,
mehr,
mehr.

Vor Gedichten und Gedanken
Weichen alle Schranken.

Freiheit sitzt dahinter, dort,
Jenseits der Verzweiflung
Wahre Freiheit ist:
Nichts mehr zu verlieren zu haben
Außerhalb von Halt
Singend, nicht schreiend
Im freien Fall.

Das macht sie so gefährlich.

Fallende Hunde bellen,
Laut.
Sie beißen zu,
Hart
Und oft ins Leere.

Ich falle auch,
Nur singe ich nicht,
Ich schreie auch nicht,
Bin lange schon verstummt

Fallende Hunde bellen laut
Und ich glaube ich verstehe.