Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
They're
doing it again.

They're gonna stuff
the corpse of
Hugo Chavez and
put it on display
in a glass case.

Why?

They did it to Lenin.

For 80 years he lay
on a bed of flowers
in a glass topped coffin
lazin away the days
in the Kremlin Wall
before they locked
him away behind
closed glasnost doors.

For those eighty years
Lenin's comrades
paraded his
corpse around
like an extended
Weekend at Bernie's;
raising old Ilyich
to mouth every
dictatorial diatribe
uttered by the
deathly stale
bread breath
of Stalin and all
the petty knockoffs
that followed him.

V.I. did a lot of
talking for a
dead man, serving
the dictatorship
of the proletariat
with valor and
distinction.

They did it
to Mao,
reminding all
happy Chinese Proles
that great peoples
revolutions must
dutifully mind
the unerring
instruction of
the secular deity;
resting assured
that progress is an
historical
dialectical
inevitability
proceeding apace
until classlessness
is realized in every
Hunan rice paddy,
Shanghai noodle
factory, Mongol
Steppe Village
and Buddhist
Tibetan Temple
in the glorious
workers paradise.

As of this writing Mao
hasn't been heard from
since the
Gang of Four
walked the last
Capitalist Roader plank.

Lady Mao
indignant to the end,
coolly quipping final zingers
from the Third Edition
of the Little Red Book as
last death sentence breaths
escaped her charcoal stained
great leaping forward
lungs.  
  
As always
Deng Xiaoping
got the final
laugh, counting
heavenly
Renmibis;

his yuan
piling up faster
then the number
of displaced
peasants
clogging the
streets of
The People's
Republic
new and improved
discount cities
beggin for jobs
at a toxic
iPod
factory.

Crafty
Deng  bought
the copy rights to
Mao's Quotations
his profit driven
start-up
fills
fortune cookies
with the
Chairman's
wise maxims
eagerly consumed
by the country's
burgeoning
class of
happy
lunch time
capitalists.

By the
waters of the Nile
they stuffed dead
pharaohs with
with onions,
spices and
frankincense
and buried em
in billion dollar
pyramids.

When a pharaoh  
crossed the River
Styx the expense
was justified
because of his
station in life.

The undertaking
also served as a
shovel ready
infrastructure
improvement
initiative for
idling slaves.

The humongous
public works project
didn't do much
for the economy back then
because the wages of
slaves don't go too far;
but through the
expanse of
expired millennia
the strange fruit of
chattel workers
is a proven boon
for the tourist trade in the
Valley of the Kings.

Its a bit unfortunate
that enterprising
grave robbers daring
the risk of the mummies curse
and imperialist archaeological
pillagers wouldn't let the
league of buried
Pharaoh's -like
young King Tut-
just
RIP.

..and then
there's the case of
Sweet Jesus...

Half of America
believes him to be
Chairman Emeritus
of the GOP,
authoring a gospel
of righteousness
in the party platform,
sprinkling holy water
on the hardest edges of
free market capitalism.

Though
his body was
lifted to heaven
on Ascension Day
Jesus
remains
the main course
at the festive Eucharist
every Sunday morning.  

Pious padres
transubstantiate
sacrosanct wafers
say its the Lords Table
but they act more
like its their own.  

Wrapped
in riddles
within sacred
paradoxes
exclusionary
catholic churches
refuse spiritually
starved pilgrim's
slices of happy meals
if they ain't down
with their
righteous
creed.

I recall
Jesus feeding 5,000
soul staved people with
seven loaves and five fishes
and had enough left overs
to feed every famished
woman and child
in Biafra;

don't remember Jesus
checking membership cards
before filling their bellies
with wholesomeness;

but the
pietistic pastors
parsing out
the holy loaves
remain quick to draw
heinous crucifixes
believing in the
holy justice of  
their crossianity
to ecstatically
bludgeon a
fallen heathen...

some Muslim
fundamentalists
do the same thing

a Hidden Imam
been walking
the earth since
the death of
The Prophet
Muhammad
(PBUH)

the ubiquitous
Mahdi is around
somewhere
and when he shows
his face he'll team
with Isa
enabling the Shia's
to tell the Sunni's
I told you so
and demand
that they
stop
murdering
fellow
Muslims

I just want to
tell my brothers
and sisters in
Venezuela
that they are the body
and soul, the heart, hands
and mind of the nation

the body is theirs
the body can't be
without them.
el corpus es usted

what ever happened
from dust you have come
to dust you shall return?

and now as a
Caracas glazier
cuts a glass box
for Chavez

i say
i think its a bad idea.
it never goes well for the dead ones

and as for the living
when myth becomes history
the potentates of politics
and the priests of power
become ghoulish tyrants
that devour the lives of
the living


ERRATUM
+++

As Marx observed in the  
18th Bremaire of Louis Bonaparte

"The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living...
he goes on to say, "history repeats itself, first as tragedy then as farce"...

I hope my Venezuelan brothers and sisters avoid the tragedy and don't fall victim to farce...

Final thoughts from Jesus:

"Wherever there is a carcass,
there the vultures will gather.
Let the dead bury the dead"

Smash the icons!
Hugo deserves his heavenly rest
he wouldn't want it any other way.

Hugo Chavez
(28 July 1954 – 5 March 2013)
Godspeed Beloved


Joan Baez & Mercedes Sosa "Gracias A La Vida"

jbm
Oakland
3/8/13
I was staying in the village
That was known as Banzhushan,
In the mountains, in the Province
That the Chinese call Hunan,
It was perched atop the mountain
You could reach, and touch the sky,
But there were no single women,
And the men up there were shy.

They were poor, could offer nothing
To entice a willing bride,
They earned little from their labours,
And their houses, poor inside,
So the girls would leave to travel
Down the mountain to the plain,
Where they’d find a richer husband
Than the farmer, sowing grain.

So the men would send out raiders
To the outskirts of the towns,
And they’d kidnap straying peasants,
All the women that they found,
And they’d target younger widows
Who would not put up a fight,
Then would carry them to Banzhushan
Protected by the night.

I had met a village elder
By the name of Zhang Fan Cheng,
He was ancient, a magician,
One the Chinese call yāorén,
He invited me to dinner,
It was simple, shoots and rice,
He was dignified and courteous,
But caught me by surprise.

In the further room, a mirror
Stood at length, both straight and tall,
The frame was wrought in silver
And it leant against the wall,
He showed it to me proudly
Then asked how much would I pay?
For just 5,000 R.M.B.
He’d sell it me, today!

I reached out to feel the silver,
Was it fake or was it real?
He sensed my hesitation
Then he motioned, ‘You be still!’
And plunged his hand into the glass
The mirror let him in,
His arm up to the elbow
Against science, against sin!

He reached his arm behind and pulled,
A girl came into sight,
She was standing in the mirror,
He was holding her so tight,
And she stared, while looking at me
And she said: ‘Qing bang bang wo!’
I could read it on her lips, and then
The wizard let her go.

She had said: ‘Would you please help me!’
But I’d stepped back in the room,
She was nowhere near behind me
Just reflected, in the gloom,
And I saw a tear forming at
The corner of her eye,
The wizard pulled his arm out, and
She waved to me, ‘Goodbye!’

I paid the man his money, and
I took the mirror down
On a wooden cart he lent me,
And I took it through Hunan,
Then I packed it on a train and went
Off speeding to Nanjing,
Where I kept a small apartment,
And I turned, and locked us in.

I stood the mirror over by
A meagre wooden shelf,
Then I stood quite still before it
Hoping she would show herself,
And I tried to put my arm inside
Like he had done before,
But the mirror was unyielding,
So I stood there, and I swore!

That night the girl appeared,
Standing right behind the glass,
And she pummelled on the surface
As if she’d be free at last,
But the mirror was ungiving,
And I couldn’t hear her voice,
So I took a ball pein hammer -
It had given me no choice!

She could see me through the mirror,
In alarm, she mouthed ‘Meiyou!’
But her beauty had beguiled me
Though I knew she’d shouted ‘No!’
I was fevered and impatient now
To set this beauty free,
So I swung the ball pein hammer
And it shattered, over me!

She fell out through the broken glass,
Lay trembling in my room,
Bleeding, sobbing in the silence,
Like the silence of the tomb,
And she said she’d been imprisoned
Since the days of Qin **** Huang,
Then she writhed upon the carpet
As her flesh turned into sand.

I had wanted to release her
To relieve those tender tears,
But her body, once released took on
The last two thousand years;
She took one last, despairing look
Then withered up to die,
And for years I’ve sought the answer
To the only question - ‘Why?’

David Lewis Paget

(Glossary -
R.M.B. - Ren-Min-bi - or yuan (Chinese currency.)
Yāorén - magician
Qing bang bang wo - (Ching bang bang wor) - Please help me!
Meiyou - (May yo) - No, nothing
Qin **** Huang - (Chin Sher Hwang)
1st Emperor of China - 246-210 BC)
JL Sep 2013
I am a tangled web of scars
Seen and unseen
Man and child
Accustomed to the cold and dark
A black serpent writhed in my chest
The deepness of his fangs and the pull of his grasp
Leaving me swollen, bruised

There is patience in the crook of your arm
Contrasting the track marks  in mine

You dine alone at a table set for two
Your fingers dance about the cold glass of water

Inaatiable is the pull
Pure in in its  testament
Slender chased- taut silent
You observe from the  corner
I cannot read your eyes
The crushing blue beings bring muteness to my lips
Warm and gentle is the  caress of your smile
Your hand warms my cheek
Warming me as a leaf in mornimg sunlight
Daunting mountain of time
I shall climb restless and hungry to prove

But surely this love is true
Tried by fire yet not found wanting
I am entbralled by the organic machinery
Such blue veins upon a pale backdrop
A complexion so radiant
I avert my eyes :  unworthy

I am the broken down wall
Irreparable by Hunan hands
But you grow as vines of green ivy
Between the cracks starving for sun

One day the ivy will consume
And lily blossoms will appear
For all to gaze upon and know
Unselfish love so pure
Teied by fire
don’t be shy, mate, just party and be cool and don’t forget break no golden rule

don’t be shy to explain to your parents you like to party, despite them worrying

don’t be ashamed of the past mate, just party on till the day is long

don’t be shy if you ain’t strong, just enjoy life anyway,

don’t be shy if you ain’t mucking with your school friends no more, you should still be cool

look at me mate, i go to the poetry slam, i am having fun there, i am not shy

don’t be shy mate, if your mates taught you something that is daddyish take the i am not ya daddy like a man

don’t be shy mate, if people call you a woosey if you don’t like fighting, just ignore them

don’t be shy mate, if you have voices from your parents saying your still like us, remember

if you are doing what you like within reason, just have fun

don’t be shy mate, if you lost a relative and you hear them speaking from nirvana

don’t be shy, in everything you do

don’t be shy, mate, if you have problems talking you see, and people call you a woosey

just relax and take up writing for expression

don’t be shy mate, if people want to fight you, don’t be shy to back away, if you find that hard, just be cool

don’t be shy, to just relax, because remember you ain’t immortal and you ain’t perfect

so you give lousy advice and you give good advice, like in this little poem, i am not shy how it sounds

don’t be shy if you are battling voices, just use the negative voices to make a positive outlook

don’t be shy mate, if you felt like an animal, because you displayed no hunan qualities, you can still be human, ok don’t be shy

as long as you say, violence doesn’t solve anything don’t be shy to believe in that, ok

just be yourself like me, now, i ain’t living in the past, either should you, don’t be shy

if you want to be just like your daddy, NO, just be yourself because daddy’s give advice, they shouldn’t push you to be like them, ok

don’t be shy, be yourself
Qualyxian Quest Nov 2020
Shamanizing is tiring
Even if you have no drum

So much is expiring
Where do we come from?

I slept all day, now it's night
Brocolli on the way

Chinese food, Hunan delight
For which I say:  Xie Xie.
Blanket Jul 2018
Is it all worth it though?
Is all the mental torture worth it?
Are all these sleepless nights worth it?
Am i being selfish or am i just being taken advantage of?
Do i even still want this?
Is it worth it?
Is being said “you’re unloving”
“You’re not helping me in any way”
“Girls like you make me go depressed”
“You don’t care for me”
“This is why I want to be single”
“Your efforts are nothing”
“You’re making me more stressed”
“You make me feel insecure about myself”
“You behave like a ****”
“No happiness”
Worth it?
Hearing all these and more,
Feeling completely useless,
Having no words to say back,
Worth it?
Is being speechless worth it?
Or defending myself and getting beaten up by even more harsh word worth it?
WHAT IS WORTH IT?

I have been there for you through everything but there’s a difference between being your support to lean on and being your punching bag to vent out all your frustrations.
Harsh words, rude comments and disrespect has been thrown around several times, and I have shut up for most of it.
As much as I retreat, you beat me to it.
Feeling nothing but emptyness recently.
I get that you’re going through something, but that doesn’t make me any less hunan than you are.
I am going to feel. I am going to hurt. I am going to cry.
I’m not strong enough to push aside my emotional stability to support your verbal abuse.
I am trying.
I
Am
Trying.

How much longer till my tears completely dry up?
How much longer till I’ve completely become numb?
How much longer till I break?
How much longer till I go mad?
How much longer till I’ve had enough?

Do I want this?
Do I love myself more?
Or do I love you more?
Is it worth taking the risk?
Is it worth it?
Vanessa Gatley Jun 2017
We're all animals
Mammals
Hunan's
But I wanna be free of work
Just like birds are
Qualyxian Quest Apr 2023
The Americans take themselves
Far too seriously
Only 5 percent of the world's population
But 25 percent of its prisoners

She mentions Angel Numbers
Deja Vu
444
222

I mentions my poems
I mention you
Towson University
Please be true

A Man Called Otto
Shooting Star
8088
Florida far

          UNR
Asia in my life
Rice. The Buddha too.
Thai iced tea
Merton at JMU

Hunan vegetable
Korean grocery store
Bangkok in the rain
4044

San Francisco Zen
Two years in Taipei
Lost in Translation
Still I say xie xie

Encounters with Chinese Hermits
Red Pine's Road to Heaven
A little won ton soup
3837
Qualyxian Quest Mar 2023
Red Pine's Road to Heaven
I'm readin' about the Ch'in
Maybe Hunan vegetable
Arrival might begin

Ancient humanity
In all our transient glory
I showed her my true love
Are we gonna be a story?

Bought a pachinko machine
110 big bucks
Carrboro, North Carolina
True blue taco trucks

Boonsboro, Maryland
McClellan on the March
St. Louis University
My father near the Arch

              Jesuits!
Qualyxian Quest Feb 2021
wokeup late
a little light

thinking less
no mind of fright

Hunan vegetable
Buddha's delight

childhood
Mr. Spock kite

  well alright!
Qualyxian Quest Jul 2021
Tomorrow is the train
In my solitude

I told her Purple Rain
I did not intrude

6 hours on the rails
Home before the night

My life is one that fails
I fight back fearsome fright

         Hunan vegetable
         Buddha's delight
Qualyxian Quest Jan 2023
There is no God
And Mary is His mother
Catholic atheism
One Dark Night

Hunan vegetable
Diet Coke
Miso soup
Mystic flight

Tired and lonely
Lonely and tired
1 cemetery
2 green lights

Long live Volleyball!
And Darling Nikki
And Bon Scott
My Mr. Spock kite

       Well, alright!
Qualyxian Quest Feb 2023
The Trumpfucks are now flocking
To SauRon Desantis
The Dark Lord is Rising
Rising in the Southeast

Almost 70 percent
Of professional mathematicians
Are Platonists, even today.
Have you read Plato on the Great Beast?

Plato is also quite instructive
On demagogues
And how tyranny
Always comes from democracy

Xiao gives me Chinese food
Here in Boonsboro
Hunan vegetable, white rice
A vegetarian feast.

             my my xie xie ni
Daoist hermits in the mountains
Red Pine's conversations
General Shang meets Dr. Banks
Language education

I eat Hunan vegetable
Won ton soup and rice
Dragons on my placemats
Dragons. Very nice.

I'm lonely without a woman
Lonely as the rain
Time tick tocks
German bullet train

Jeremy in Hong Kong
I visited years ago
Kamakura Buddha
Sitting in the snow

        Yoko yo yo!
Qualyxian Quest Dec 2020
Dylan Thomas in New York City
A child's Christmas in Wales

Bob Dylan in Orlando
Dead men tell no tales

I wait for Hunan vegetable
All day again alone

Tonight I read with my youngest son
Zoom on my cell phone

       Internally I groan.
Qualyxian Quest Aug 2023
The Buddha does not fear extinction
why Judi why?
gentle smile, calm and caring
only here a little while

Thai motorcycle taxis
heat, monsoon rain
Life is suffering
Life is pain on train

maryland is boring
i read many books
even the teacher got no idea
just how mean she looks

Hunan vegetable for lunch
won ton soup - xie xie
San Franciscso, Staunton
Bangkok y Taipei

              Way ...
I'm not a Taoist hermit
I'm known in my little town
I'm not an academic
I read Richard Rodriguez's Brown

I like Red Pine's book
Would like to fly off on a Dragon
Hunan vegetable
Old covered wagon

                   Taiwan ...
Qualyxian Quest Nov 2020
The morning is still early
Yet no dawning light

Made through another
Gathering American night

Hunan vegetable
The Buddha does delight

Will the deer appear?
Hidden, or out of sight?
Qualyxian Quest Aug 2020
Hunan vegetable
Coca Cola

Paul Mcartney
Rock n' Rolla

Elle King
Exes and Ohs

Barefoot boy
Sand in his toes

C.D.'s Nose!
(Roxanne knows)
Qualyxian Quest Mar 2021
again he speaks of sunset
which makes me fear the night

Hunan vegetable
Buddha's true delight

i may not be too happy
may vanish out of sight

please protect my sons
O! Mr. Spock: my kite!
Qualyxian Quest Mar 2021
continuous convalescence
Father Tracy is right

I play a little basketball
read with Cam at night

Hunan vegetable
The Buddha's true delight

Ohio childhood
My Mr. Spock kite

      Well alright!
Hunan vegetable for dinner
Plus a little rice
South Side of Chicago
Oooo dat girl looked nice!

Sunny sky today
Therapy for my son
Born in yon Taiwan
Near Taipei 101

Rothko green and blue
Zen tv sets
55 and falling
And I can't forget

Sophia University
Jesuits in Japan
Silent meditation
I want to be your man

            If I can.

— The End —