"leif" poems
the banners are blowing steady
(fully extended in the hot august wind)
contemporary in style
tightly trimmed
and all gloriously dressed
in the latest colors and hues
it’s a fleeting distraction though
as the caskets
and children
and grieving widows
are rolled steadily across
the burning tarmac
it’s the beginning
of that inevitable
two part proceeding
a skotoma for the ages
delusionary in nature
rich in grays
and eerily reminiscent
of that foreign reign
clipped in silence
with dark roots of fear
set deep in the bowels
of a chapter
of unimaginable sin
indifference as pronounced
as the accompanying salutes
haphazard sentiments that are
cloaked in the horror
of endless
aborted days
forgotten buggies
and bunkers
and rat packs
*how could the switch
be set so wrong?*
it’s truly an illusion
(this way of the world)
simple indulgence can grow
so beastly and consuming
try telling the tale to the
tibetan monks
or broad peak sherpas
(those boys know how to get it done!)
how to bask in
the ice cold waters
how to savor
the lava hot falls
*couldn’t the others
have figured this one out?*
the flags have settled
at half mass
and are tinted
in a charred yellow brown
the lifeless dreams
and inspirations now
in the rear view
leif running solo
(exempt of his trusted gunners)
ready for the numbered lines
his eyes open
to the ever changing
enemy at hand
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 11:45 PM UTC
In 1492,
Columbus had a few
Things to do
Before he sailed the ocean blue.
He needed some green,
If you know what I mean,
So he went to see the King and Queen
Of Portugal, England, and France:
They laughed, shook their heads and said, “No chance.”
While his Homies back in Italy
Said, “Christabo, you gotta be kiddin’ me.
You want to do WHAT!? And you want US to pay?
We think you're a nut, now go on, go away."
But he didn’t give up and he didn’t complain,
He shook it off and took off for Spain
Where Ferdinand and Isabella,
Thinking him a righteous fella,
Told him they would float his boat,
If their country he’d promote,
Plant their flag on lands discovered, and
Bring them riches he uncovered, so
They all signed on the dotted line, and
Columbus said, “The pleasure’s mine!”
Then he smiled and bowed and said, “I’ll see’ya!”
And hopped aboard the Santa Maria.
See Christopher knew the Greek Geeks found,
That instead of flat, the earth was round,
So he thought he knew, or at least he guessed,
That it might be best
To get Far East by sailing west.
He pulled up anchor, set the sail
Told ninety men, success or fail,
West, they’d go, and west they went
Seventy days, provisions spent,
When land was spotted, dead ahead,
Columbus planted the flag and said,
“I claim this land for the King of Spain,
In doing so increase his reign,
And underneath this flag, unfurled,
Declare New Spain, a brand new world!”
What Columbus didn’t anticipate
He was 500 years or so too late,
For Eric the Red, and Leif, his son,
Long ago discovered Newfoundland.
Now when history tells North America’s story,
There’s room for both to share the glory.
But another fact, it’s become quite clear,
There were thousands of people already here,
See life in Asia wasn’t so great,
Some folks decided not to wait,
They just walked across the Bering Strait,
So Chris and Leif both got here late!
Phil Lindsey 1/27/17
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 11:47 PM UTC
Flobots - Handlebars
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3M104iSE3CI
I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars, no handlebars
I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars, no handlebars
[Verse One]
Look at me, look at me
Hands in the air like it's good to be
Alive, and I'm a famous rapper
Even when the paths are all crooked-y
I can show you how to dosey-doe
I can show you how to scratch a record
I can take apart the remote control
And I can almost put it back together
I can tie a knot in a cherry stem
I can tell you about Leif Ericson
I know all the words to "De Colores"
And I'm proud to be an American
Me and my friends saw a platypus
Me and my friend made a comic book
And guess how long it took
I can do anything that I want, cause look
[Hook One]
I can keep rhythm with no metronome
No metronome, no metronome
And I can see your face on the telephone
On the telephone, on the telephone
[Verse Two]
Look at me, look at me
Just called to say that it's good to be
Alive, in such a small world
I'm all curled up with a book to read
I can make money, open up a thrift store
I can make a living off a magazine
I can design an engine
64 miles to a gallon of gasoline
I can make new antibiotics
I can make computers survive aquatic, conditions
I know how to run the business
And I can make YOU wanna buy a product
Movers shakers and producers
Me and my friends understand the future
I see the strings that control the systems
I can do anything with no assistance, cause
[Hook Two]
I can lead a nation with a microphone
With a microphone, with a microphone
And I can split the atoms of a molecule
Of a molecule, of a molecule
{musical trumpet interlude}
[Verse Three]
Look at me, look at me
Driving and I won't stop!
And it feels so good
To be alive and on top!
My reach, is global, my tower, secure
My cause, is noble, my power, is pure
I can hand out a million vaccinations
Or let 'em all die in exasperation
Have all healed from their lacerations
Or have 'em all killed by assassinations
I can make anybody go to prison
Just because I don't like 'em~!
And I can do anything with no permission
I have it all under my command because
[Hook Three]
I can guide a missile by satellite
By satellite, by satellite
And I can hit a target through a telescope
Through a telescope, through a telescope
And I can end the planet in a holocaust
In a holocaust, in a holocaust
In a holocaust, in a holocaust, in a holocausssssssssssst!
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
Thirty and a few days
it's come this far
and feeling as if
already halfway there:
is this crisis?
forget all i'd loved
forget this i've cherished
c'est la vie
say less to me
and sail i might
like magellan,
erik, his son leif,
i'll leave soon
for that spice
cowper said
gives life all its flavor
oh, billy boy
you might've been onto something
but my heart's will
disagrees
with my penchant
for curious wild imagination
and dreams
and all that could have been
all swept by wind
as sand in a gale.
Oct 7, 2024
Oct 7, 2024 at 5:06 AM UTC
We’re all just slaves to our very own dangerous ways.....
May 28, 2020
May 28, 2020 at 2:06 AM UTC
no one owns this land
bloodshed and atrocity
lord tyrants and battlements
the Vikings seafaring
Erik the Red with his sons
Leif and Thorvald, continuing the journey
Columbus, Champlain, Cartier...
Jacques Cartier looking for China found ‘Kanata’ and they now call Canada
captived Donnacona and his clan from Stadacona
the mariners, cartographers
no one owns this land
the slavery and civil war of Catholicism and Protestants
the ‘Black Death’ from bubonic plague
the man’s bones from the rat’s alley
below the ground with sunken skeletons
who fought with swords and knives and a broken arrow trying to dug up their way
to the bridges and skyscrapers that buried them deep with the poison of ideology
that says ‘you are not welcome’
the silent voices screams
‘this is our land, this is our land...
this is not our land and there shall be no peace.’
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 11:52 AM UTC
¿a quién debería encontrar yo en el país del vino?
¿a quién encontraría qué rostros o qué rostro?
¿el ingeniero que se perdió en el mar hace cuarenta máquinas?
¿la burra de dylan thomas?
¿tu cuerpo deseado amado inesperado? ¿qué cuerpo encontraría
consumido abrasado por la noche como una larga burra
haciendo ruido a máquinas a mar?
quién sabe cómo es eso pero hace diez siglos
leif ericson fundaba el país del vino vikingo eructador
medio bestia también fornicaba debajo de la gloria del cielo
y ustedes miserables ocultan en un cuarto su pálido final
refugian en las sombras sus cuerpos como burras sin leche
sí
algo cambió en el mundo y tu cuerpo es extraño como cuarenta máquinas
y el ingeniero que se perdió en el mar
brilló fosforescente como leif ericson cuando hace diez siglos
clavaba a una mujer contra la tierra
y la tierra adquiría el color de sus cuerpos
y tu cuerpo era el único país donde me derrotaban
373
Detached from its home
Swayed by the gentle winds
Never getting too low
A small lake it brims
Wavering, soaring, above all life
Enjoying the heaven above the clouds
Then descending, cutting through like a knife
Rejoining life below, passing through the crowds
Seeing the bare earth, but rarely coming near
Dying to stay in air, to keep its flight
Gliding rapidly like a salty tear
Whipping in the night
Until finally it reaches the ground, and it lands
On a welcoming beach, snuggling to the sands
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC