"raul" poems
You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs?
and the poppy-petalled metaphysics?
and the rain repeatedly spattering
its words and drilling them full
of apertures and birds?
I'll tell you all the news.
I lived in a suburb,
a suburb of Madrid, with bells,
and clocks, and trees.
From there you could look out
over Castille's dry face:
a leather ocean.
My house was called
the house of flowers, because in every cranny
geraniums burst: it was
a good-looking house
with its dogs and children.
Remember, Raul?
Eh, Rafel? Federico, do you remember
from under the ground
my balconies on which
the light of June drowned flowers in your mouth?
Brother, my brother!
Everything
loud with big voices, the salt of merchandises,
pile-ups of palpitating bread,
the stalls of my suburb of Arguelles with its statue
like a drained inkwell in a swirl of hake:
oil flowed into spoons,
a deep baying
of feet and hands swelled in the streets,
metres, litres, the sharp
measure of life,
stacked-up fish,
the texture of roofs with a cold sun in which
the weather vane falters,
the fine, frenzied ivory of potatoes,
wave on wave of tomatoes rolling down the sea.
And one morning all that was burning,
one morning the bonfires
leapt out of the earth
devouring human beings --
and from then on fire,
gunpowder from then on,
and from then on blood.
Bandits with planes and Moors,
bandits with finger-rings and duchesses,
bandits with black friars spattering blessings
came through the sky to **** children
and the blood of children ran through the streets
without fuss, like children's blood.
Jackals that the jackals would despise,
stones that the dry thistle would bite on and spit out,
vipers that the vipers would abominate!
Face to face with you I have seen the blood
of Spain tower like a tide
to drown you in one wave
of pride and knives!
Treacherous
generals:
see my dead house,
look at broken Spain :
from every house burning metal flows
instead of flowers,
from every socket of Spain
Spain emerges
and from every dead child a rifle with eyes,
and from every crime bullets are born
which will one day find
the bull's eye of your hearts.
And you'll ask: why doesn't his poetry
speak of dreams and leaves
and the great volcanoes of his native land?
Come and see the blood in the streets.
Come and see
The blood in the streets.
Come and see the blood
In the streets!
23.3k
Saul. Babbittz.
Slight variation of the name Paul - sometimes pronounced
with the
"ah-oolll"
of Raul - to intrigue cashiers and toll booth attendents.
These words seem meaningless and even less interesting than the blank white background each letter invades.
And still I thank the God in my stomach that wakes up every once in a while to capture butterflies before I leave the house so I can turn down the sounds in my head that stir the butterflies to a frenzied mess of tangled neurons and synaptic maladjustment.
My interaction goes something like this:
cashier-"do you have a bonus card?"
me-(holding out the pad of my thumb - serious like lava)
cashier-(looking at me with a confused look)
me- "I thought thumb scans were enacted throughout the states. Sorry about that, I just got used to the thumb scan back home in North Dakota".
cashier- (dumbfounded, slightly annoyed)
me- (chuckling-embarrassed smirk) "you know, like a dystopian tracking system?"
cashier- "uh, not really" (avoiding eye contact, rushed transaction) "freak" (under her breath).
butterflies again
I've never even lived in North Dakota!
Just uncomfortable enough to prove that body heat activated "degree" does not provide 24 hour protection...
Next transaction a day later:
me- (silence)
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 9:10 PM UTC
Mi' Padre' was stabbed in a bar fight.
The cantina is the deepest of wells.
Mi' Madre' put mi' ropa in la mochila.
La pandillas tiene mi' hermano - He fell.
Madre' sold her finest of silver
To buy maquillaje to color my face.
She said, "Better that you should have her"
To the man who had come from The United States.
Yo era una nina novia.
El era un hombre mayor.
I wanted to run away fast, go back home,
But nothing was there for me anymore.
I was but only sixteen.
I had never been touched before.
There I was in such a new land,
Our cothes crumpled on the floor.
The whole time I kept my eyes closed.
I longed for mi' familia and home.
He held me and slumbered when it was over.
My tears were hot and I felt so alone.
.
Yo era una nina novia.
El era un hombre mayor.
I wanted to run away fast, go back home,
But nothing was there for me anymore.
I was told to learn to speak English.
To abandon the language I knew.
I did not speak of my heritage,
It was better that I was kept from view.
I learned to cook like an American wife,
And soon I could speak like the rest.
It was difficult, but I learned how to fit in.
I even changed the way that I dressed.
Yo era una nina novia.
El era un hombre mayor.
I wanted to run away fast, go back home,
But nothing was there for me anymore.
These days, I spend keeping shop,
When the children are still at the school.
They are the heart of my life.
They are named Sally and Raul.
The nights are the hardest to get through.
I still dream of my other life,
Before I was given to my husband.
But I love him now, I am his wife.
But,
I remember when -
Yo era una nina novia.
El era un hombre mayor.
I wanted to run away fast, go back home,
But nothing was there for me anymore.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
We like to dance
Feet moving in a trance
Transition to a different stance
All of us jump and prance
We get in a groove
People’s rhythmic motion is smooth
The head banging is proof
Dancer’s enjoying the beat and *****
With Deejay YouTube on rotation
Music revives the good sensation
As boys and girls pair up to charleston
The vibe is lively in Camden
Everyone is revelling
In the style of crip walking
Zimmer frames towards the ceiling
As the old start break dancing
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC
The collocation in relation .
The delineation of misplacement .
The inhabitants of Kismet , the third .
The depletion of mortality .
The marauder of consumption .
The lamentation of Raul , the bird .
The offing of defence .
The pardon too myriad .
The submission to Pentateuch , the word .
The agrarian underground war .
The capricious rule of super-cities .
The ebb of vulgarity is heard .
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
Guile, come and get it.
Bison beef means
Bison bucks for everyone.
Bison's just:
Satan as he fell from Heaven
like
light
niiiiiiing!!!
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 7:48 PM UTC
What you doin scanning me
Peering down at me
You wanna wrangle with me
Cause I have pair of nikee’s
You step on my shoes,
You’re not breaking free without a bruise
Your chanting ‘help’ while feeling blue
Afterwards I circumvent the ten o'clock news
Use to be fractious in school
And play the fool
Learning is a requisite rule
Otherwise you leave school without a clue
I’m a badman in class
So jump when I pass
Paper aeroplanes are a blast
But they didn’t help me pass
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 1:07 PM UTC
Tom and Jerry are both hirsute
Both are small and cute
If there is trouble they are at the root
Tom is the real mischievous brute
Who envisions Jerry as food
Jerry steals the cheese and acts cool
But Tom see’s the mouse and starts to drool
Jerry zigzags under the stool
Tom carelessly crashes into the water fondue
Jerry laughs while he chews
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 8:19 AM UTC
Raul M Murray
22 March 2018
God embrace me
God I embrace you
Every pair of shoes has a different story
God our journey to your glory
How everyday with children can be a pleasant memory
Heard stories of people, passed on,
Our dignitaries
Their shoes footprints left an example to live life
That's why God your path will always be right
God forgive our sins
God your love wins
God with you life begins
God embrace us please
God I embrace you
God, thank you for our shoes.
Amen.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 3:33 AM UTC
Flame on the candle
Reflection mirroring on the floor at a different angle
After the medicine Rankle
On a night of tranquil
Patients quiver like the flame on a candle
As the brain is in constant battle
Disperse the execrable foreign chemial
Cries the soul of a person’s skeletal
Hard at work is the cerebral
Four hours patients feel like life is unbearable
Until the humane kills the foreign chemical
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 11:11 AM UTC
by Raul Murray - Saturday 14 May 2016
You can be your dream
Your imagination is the scheme
Use the world as the theme
Sets the opportunity to be your dream
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 9:31 AM UTC
looking at
sparrows
building a nest,
and all their jitters,
insect like,
crows,
by comparison
actually want
hands
as opposed to wings,
given their meticulous
strut... pompous *******
saying:
i own this earth.
sparrows?
insect fusion,
they don't walk,
they hop...
and they have
this nervous twitch...
kangaroos on wings...
hopping all day long...
and then?
a conversation with
my neighbour's dog...
woof!
roof!
woof!
woof!
roof!
zoë, what is it?
woof!
roof?!
(it's) woo effing ****
head!
roof then?
no! woof!
where's the wolf?
i meant you're being
aloof!
roof?!
no...
woof!
raul the conquistador?
woof!
roof?!
reduce the worth of articulate
wording
to an onomatopoeia,
barking alongside a dog,
**** me...
that's a carousel;
and all around me?
inhibited people...
the supposed
serious "thinkers*...
scared to take to a whistle...
me?
i start barking
alongside my neighbour's
dog's concerto.
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 11:59 AM UTC
Contingency - The Medic’s Mesmerism
Their fed up, they laugh that I am fed up
2AM in the morning, radio call alert
While I’m naked, lying in dirt or in some other disapproving fashion
How many times has this a happened?
The strikes to the face, cuts on the skin,
The assault of non registered injections.
The psyche’s medical degree after learning the curriculum
Over 20000 grand spent, and labelling with invented illnesses
Stuck in the middle, the human research subject,
Used as much as the 5 plus years qualified Dr
We have something common…….
Ridiculed, albeit not by the same group, but again, made fun of
I have no recollection of being outside, I have no clothes on
I didn’t see the person who punched me, but I must of opened the door
They cannot complete their orders,
WHY!
The Medic’s Mesmerism
Has been going on so long now, this was not in the curriculum
Some might even say, training as a crime fighter, this is not in my handbook
But the patient ——— Oblivious, slowly catching up
Patient zero. Trapped! For now by the contingency — the medic’s mesmerism
15 Feb 2022
By
Raul M Murray
Feb 15, 2022
Feb 15, 2022 at 6:28 AM UTC
A man packs his bags, opens the door that was once his and leaves.
Behind him, his daughters and her broken wife.
This was the end of a long war of broken hearts and thieves.
The man went to a new woman, who was once his nightlife.
She wants her children to be safe, but vengeance grew in her heart.
He, the leaver, wants to be forgiven, but pride is much stronger than his desires.
First the papers, then the unpaid bills and child support, everything is falling apart.
Refusing to share the blame, all his lies backfire.
He can no longer see his daughters, he no longer knows how to love, bad choices escalating.
The daughters leave him, the mother marries a good guy, he marries the witch of the night.
He is texting and calling no replies from his blood, he can no longer feel, he is just deteriorating.
God, he is falling, “Raul, you all right?”
Raul? He wonders, why didn’t she call me dad.
“I just wanted to tell you, that mom said that you have to stop treating me like a messenger.”
He looks perplexed at her daughter, when did she grow? Who is the lad?
“Let’s go, dad,” She says to the lad next to her. They hop on the plane leaving Ecuador, with no sadness or pity to him whatsoever.
Leaving the man behind as he left them once, with his mouth that once said the word the ruined his life.
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 10:28 PM UTC