"pachyderm" poems
Her name is Chang Champoo,
translated as ‘Elephant Pink.’
Met on the street in tourist Thailand.
9 years old.
6 months pregnant.
A beggar in an urban landscape.
Hungry,
grabbing sugar cane from my fingers.
Desperate for food.
Destined for an early grave.
“Where are you from?”
A question to her mahout,
in Thai hauled from fragments of memory.
“The border.”
Seemingly obtuse but not really.
Only one nearby.
Burma.
Elephants,
born in captivity,
used in logging,
now unemployed.
Teak forests of old but a distant memory.
Did I only fuel her belly
buying over-priced sugar cane?
Or did I also fuel
rampant exploitation
of disadvantaged animals?
Not everything in life
Is black and white.
Sometimes it is grey,
This night it was Pink.
How could I refuse her sustenance
when confronted by those
mournful pachyderm eyes.
The question lingers…
Jan 11, 2011
Jan 11, 2011 at 1:55 AM UTC
you can wear your cap twisted sideways
sag your pants down to your knees
ride a pachyderm or a mule that brays
be whatever kind of fool you please
sing love songs in the rose garden
or complain how the dollar done fell
knowing qadafi, hussein, and bin laden
have all been dispatched to hell
you can rant and rave about raw deals
you can raise your snout and sashay about
or he-haw and buck, kick up your heels
or vote for more hope or to kick da *** out
you can lean to the left or to the right
weighing the pros and cons and hype
but you can't stay out of this fight
and claim you're just not the type
to freely elect their governments and laws
evers, walesa, mandela, and susan b
lived and died for just such a cause
to see the people's voices set free
but if you just call it mumbo jumbo
and aloofly let this moment pass
we all may be led by Dumbo
or maybe that other *******
what percentage do you claim?
forty-seven, one, or ninety-nine?
tea party? occupier? some other name?
are you just spouting a party line?
all our blood runs red
'bove us all the sky is blue
and no matter what is said
there's one thing we all should do
hadn't you better cast a vote?
against the ones who vote aginst you?
i think you'd really better vote ...
it's the least but the best thing you can do.
doug curry
10/24/2012
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
Lucid in a lush landscape, baked by burning Savanna sun
The undeveloped endlessness all encompassing
My feet sink into the tender tissue
Of Green Mother and Infinite Father’s lovechild
The watering hole is overpopulated with thirsty families
Suspiciously inspecting the albino primate
I make undeterred deliberate steps skirting hydration
Drawn to his penetrating and omniscient orbs
A genuflect to show respect, my head bowed and gaze on ground
The mighty titan mimicked me and extended peaceful welcome
Gradually I rose and full-figured, approached
Warily, minding his twin osteoscimitars
Hello friend, he said
I heard you coming from several years away
I have been waiting for you
In a thousand forms and figures as the shadowy shapes you doubted
But Wisdom, how?
Baffled now, as I follow worn creases of age
That line his cracked and withered face and date his hardened hide
Come see yourself as I see you, he said
For we are as old as your mind is young
And he led me to the liquid, still and reflective
My own visage now ancient
You often sought me out, and I never hid
But I always came too late
I am with you in every action
Every success and every mistake
I was your hand when you learned to hold on
And your ears when you learned to listen
I was your adrenaline when you lost control
And your uncut blood tunnels when you learned to live
I was your arms when you hugged a forgiving embrace
And the nausea you felt when you lied
I did not mourn you when you died and scattered
For you returned to me as many; come, we have much to teach and learn
We will raise the bulls of a generation
Without another word, I mounted sacred pachyderm
And we became a vortex for wandering energy universal and fluid
The venerable sage and I rode as equals through the night
The savanna sky resting its tired eye at last
Jun 2, 2011
Jun 2, 2011 at 6:36 PM UTC
We must not ignore the pachyderm in the attic.
Trying to pull knitted fabric over our visual orbs.
For I am sure, although it's home is vacant.. the electric bill must be huge!
Maybe it requires a soupçon of his own panacea?
But we all know the summation of a pair of pairs..
And will come to the realisation.. it is a cadaverous fellow promenading.
We should all indicate the direction with our index finger...
And declare.. Pachyderm!!!
*We must not ignore the elephant in the room.
Trying to pull the wool over our eyes.
For I am sure, the lights are on but no one is home!
Maybe it needs a taste of it's own medicine?
But we all know, adding two and two together...
And come to know.. he is a dead man walking.
And we should all point
And yell.. Elephant!!*
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
Listen friends and neighbors
As I do my best here to tell
Of some of the animals which
Reside in this jungle hell.
Some may look harmless
But can eat you all alive.
And many for no reason
Prefer you do not survive.
One is so horribly large
It can fall on you and end
Any chance you may have
To become its loyal friend.
It’s the smarmily gracious
Nearly total waste of *****
Cringingly contumacious
Pusillanimous pachyderm.
It blunders around the jungle,
Often the danger is crushing.
It cares not for little folks, it
Only cares where it is rushing.
The other creatures around
Are annoyances in its way
And it really doesn’t care much
What they might have to say.
Of course, there are donkeys
Of many different classes
But try as each of them may
They always act like *****
They bray but acquiesce
As long as they get their hay,
And do their absolute best to
Stay out of the pachyderm’s way.
And of course, the chameleons
Who cleverly change their look
So they can hide in plain sight.
No chances were ever took.
They hide among the foliage
And only come out to eat
And stay out from under the
All of the larger animal’s feet.
The pachyderms are herd animals.
They learned to stick together
So, few are clever enough to
Face them down in any weather.
But there are these little creatures
That use tricks and some tools
To take the occasional beast down
Though animals think them fools.
Then there are the tigers as well
And they must be well considered
Because like the pachyderms
They work very well together.
But they won’t often take on those
Huge beasts with the long trunks.
They are smart enough to choose
Their dinner in smaller chunks.
So, the lesson here is for you
To move carefully, don’t bungle.
It may look like a lush and green,
But for reals, it is just a jungle.
The beasts will make short work
Of humans whenever we weaken.
So, don’t walk blindly around.
Remember, it’s you or them!
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 2:07 AM UTC
♗ ♗ ♗ ♗ ♗ ♗ ♗
Hopery, changery, stranger-than-strangery
tip the good vicar your hat—
as he sits with Obama, the global Gautama
indulging in neighborly chat.
Popery, popery, changery-hopery
grant the old Pontiff his wish.
Then summon a bishop to season and dish up
a kettle of catechized fish.
Changery, hopery—swing from the ropery,
garnish the Vatican stew.
The Cardinals compassed, the media rumpused
the Protestants joined in, too…
Fakery, changery, safety in dangery
lack of direction was lost
as it became clear that no concord was near
and the threshold of lunacy crossed.
Changery-hopery, soap-on-a-ropery,
buy the Obama a beer.
Let the Lord’s liberation enlighten our nation
as forums and quorums get queer.
Hopery, changery, babe-in-a-mangery
hail the immaculate mess;
until limbo is purged and repentance is urged
and the canonized con-men confess.
Babilo-mockery, roll with the rockery
kiss the pontificate ring;
til’ the old Argentinian wax Constantinian
causing Gods angels to sing.
Jiggery-pokery fooling the folkery
monkery second to none…
what was once sacrilegious is now a religious
conventional focus of fun.
Papacy, lunacy piping the tunacy
Father goose mothered the egg –
but it cracked in the nest while the stupefied West
lit a match to a gunpowder keg.
Yessiree/nopery—smoking the dopery
opiates dulling the masses
who bow genuflecting, with candles reflecting
the shine of their Latinate *****
Fakery funkery, pachyderm trunkery
hierophants never forget
but the clown and his trainer cut loose the restrainer
and cancelled the circus’s debt.
Piggery, smokery, tighten the chokery
offer the refugees bacon;
their mullahs may howl with a slaughterhouse scowl
but the empire’s free for the takin’…
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
Dear Rhinovirus,
Give these sniffles and this cough,
To the elephant.
Sep 23, 2011
Sep 23, 2011 at 1:23 AM UTC
call the cops.
they cooking rocks
in a shanty town compound
its just how they get down
most denounceable settlement
heroine needles nettle men
shredded by early elements
surely only pure irrelevents
no evidence of life
that reflected
anything intelligent
they were like
hell with it;
preferred not
to confer the
elephant in the parlor
though of pachyderm stature
he still delicate & he starvin.
attention ya'll.
there's histrionic
insect larva writhing
inside dying bodies
of constants.
wanting nothing but to be alive
to watch the sky ***** lights
contrite with wasting time & space
decided to face what made the comets
atum & adam & atoms.
dizzy sassed her,
kiss me ***
slapper
pass the days faster
calmly
this was a disaster
it sounds so wrong
but
how else
do you say it.
it seems
there is no
safe explaination
that demons &
godless heathens
still hold faith in unseen reason
aurical feelings
bottomless meanings &
improbable teachings
exploring the being
& being anything
more than whimsy
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
in the cohort of her hands, a disorder
lost dignity wrapped in the red of need
reckless and arrogant as lilies
an abundance of periphery
wavers at the sea-black hand
of hands of time of hands
rune stones
black granite spattered in stars
a slutter of language
of words of wombs
necrotic we burst
a pause of however
a narcosis of want
meander of limbs
siphoning brine-white tide
colorless-the disorder
marquis of white shadow
on seal slick waves
and the lilies,
petal outward
and in the silence
there were unknown weeks
where the flowers foundered
other bodies
there is a form in the garden
still as clay
we reddened our mouths
and still like clay
slant of a neck untattered
partitioning cerebral sea
arcing back on itself
there was a benign negligence
in the want-of flowers of lilies
vague signs of amplitude
pachyderm and small
in the grooves of lack
malnourished, contrite hands
flushed blooms of pink paper along
pink walls-flush seas of lack
vague symbols of wood and
purulent understanding a
nest of roots
dipping towards the alkaline sea
we didn’t even begin to understand
the range of mourning
becoming us
smooth white shells of elegant
weakened at the hock
distempered by the recent winters
foundering in the vacant space
between us
I mule you
through the tapestries of my desert
and am still, here
where I don’t belong
here I am spread as an excess
as an unfortunate truth
glossed by negligent hands
anxious, with the possible morning
indistinct dwindling winter
curling pink paper
along the walls of black sea
earth-tide
small weakened arrangement of groundcover
jostling in the ferns of truth
we measured the years in numerals
as with skin, ardent and ruddy
palpable lost youth
the rare wood of mistake
loosened from sleep
in the morning we resemble damaged objects
prized for obedience
at odd angles of deformation to time
in the body, a funeral
still warm
skin and stone a slender neck of atonement
for the absence of home
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
Lead me back to where I am
Floating above myself in brilliant
Shimmering crystalline detail
Shards of speech sunk deep into
these green tendrils of progress
expect the best and you will find'
at times you eat the elephant but
mostly it eats you
Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 11:45 PM UTC
WARNING - Hints at suicide
Corpses floating slowly above the waters,
swollen and bloated pachyderms -
my dreams curdled septic and dying
polluted to death with stagnant germs
so many of my ideas and glittering hopes
now smothered, tainted vile,
the insides of my twisted and torturous soul
just stinking, liquified to nothing but bile
countless negatives and secrets
past and present unwanted strangers,
bringing both temptation and sin;
writhing with sumptuously naked dangers,
sometimes I get fleeting thoughts that seem promising,
break into my mind shouting "Como Estas?"
Alas, within a few seconds they stick
in the large web where everything rots and festers
for my mind is sick,
demonic giggles echo down the corridors of my head -
just another ****** night
where I wish I was dead.
AJ
[Inspired by Them Crooked Vultures; Elephants - "Pachyderms of germs, unable to hide or even dream of it." One brilliant song]
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
Level with me
Slay the elephant leaned
On the mezzanine door
Let the pachyderm bleed
Wash us clean with the truth
In a shower of pink
Yes our roots go deep
Our fruits can't take seed
But they taste so sweet
Over ripe, in need
To be carried free
Too become a tree
As strong as we
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
Let me paint a still life.Like
your eyes- unmoving.The irises
with shut pupils.
Why I should be green-
I ask my old mentor?
The terror of a smile
wipes away the tail of dust, with comets.
And the pachyderm remains
buried in the sands of time.
Touching the margins was gone.
You cannot leap over the grass of antiquity.
In fog twin hills will move away
without any acrimony.
A denial becomes a stake
a part of the golden ring- the boundary mark.
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 10:49 PM UTC
You were a one-sided
coin, like grief
of the dour moon-
righting the wrong.
Maybe I was not able
to recall your beautiful face.
O, Miranda send your
smiles some time, as the
tempest was reading for a fall.
A salt mountain
will break to teach you fidelity.
You may run, may not run.
One day nemesis will come
to ask your name.
On trampled leaves of time
a huge pachyderm roams,
to find its master.
I will wait in my half-cave.
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 9:16 PM UTC
grow thicker skin
like us
they say
also...
calm down
snap out of it
and let it go
advice
from friends
who seem to think
I'm someone else
they love him
this someone else
they've painted
this potential me
created in their image
while the flesh me
fails to explain
the experience
of this pulsing
straightjacketed
brain
the drop of errant blood
that pollutes the rest
what it's like
treading water with
concrete shoes
and how I tiptoe
like a cat burglar
around double helix
spiral staircases
trying to avoid
the mischievous child
who hides in dark corners
lobbing sticks of dynamite
in my path
I explain all this
but they are not appeased
they trumpet laughter
through their scaly trunks
I turn and walk
out the door into
my daily hailstorm
unprotected
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC