Poetry
SUCCULENT SOUL
By Lori Karpay
by Phil Penne
Rifles blazed that day
with the fire of a thousand Red hearts
The blood ran down and stained
the skin of their Mother
When the time of long shadows had come
one Red had fallen
two Blue had fallen
and Truth lay dead
And the People ask
When will they give you back the Sun
Leonard Peltier?
The Eagle flew North in vain
caged that cold Calgary morn
Tried by those who did not know
and damned by lies
The Blindfolded Lady failed you
Sent to the Gray Place
bound by shackles of iron and hate
And the People ask
When will they give you back the Moon
Leonard Peltier?
You see your world through shafts of steel
and the eyes of those who care
You feel in the stone walls around you
the mountains of your home
But the only drum you hear
is the beating of your heart
Hope is your sole companion
Ignorance your stubborn foe
And the People ask
When will they give you back the Stars
Leonard Peltier?
If blind eyes one day open
and deaf ears some day hear
You will see the smiles of your children
and walk the path of your fathers
But if last breath finds you
still trapped in the tangled web
You will cross over knowing
The body they held
did not contain your Heart
The flesh they trapped
was not the vessel of your Mind
And that the Wind now has your Spirit
Leonard Peltier
Mitakuye Oyasin
Try To Praise the Mutilated World
by Adam Zagajewski
Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June’s long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere,
you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the grey feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.
Translated by Renata Gorczynski
Five Links; One Chain
Mohamed Suliman [email protected]
Frustrated youth sighs
Rain failing to wash away
Pain that comes and goes
Screams deafening but
They remain unheard this night
Earth’s only witness
Black Eyed Dogs Calling
I’m unarmed and undermanned
Pink Moons so distant
Wind caressed cold hearts
Cry silently but in vain
No answers present
Only more questions
To answer some questions
I miss you, is that enough?
Christian Satanism
Professor Pyramid
I’ve finally found religion
It’s the strangest tale to tell
My left brain’s going to Heaven
And my right brain’s going to Hell
At work I’m a file clerk
At night I’m an anarchist
I’m glad I found my niche
As a Christian Satanist
I’m a living contradiction
A neat freak, yet a rebel
For order I pray to God
Against law I pray to the Devil
Sometimes I wish for their welfare
Sometimes I wish harm on people
You gotta know who to pray to
Because half what I want is evil
I finally understand
What Allistair Crowley’s art meant
Don’t pray to God you’re not pregnant
Because that’s not his department
You cannot serve God and Mammon
At the same time, people say
But if you serve them within two hours
On separate plates, it’s OK
I serve them one at a time
Not simultaneously
That old time share religion
They take their turns on me
But what’s this crap about serving?
Who serves who anyway?
I didn’t say I worship
I only said I pray
Christian Satanism
It’s the balanced thing to do
All religions have contradictions
So you might as well have two
God calls Satan a liar
He says “Death, there is thy sting”
But if the Devil accuses likewise
It’s a he-said she-said thing
Remember the brain has two hemispheres
It’s like having two separate souls
That’s how I do spreadsheets with one hand
While the other is feeling for holes
No wonder they call me bipolar
It’s a purely spatial division
My left and right lobes are so schizo
They each got their own damn religion
They’ll have to split up my soul
Or pass me from one to the other
I’ll dish out fire and brimstone
One damn way or another
In Heaven I’ll process data
Like checking St. Peter’s lists
In Hell I’ll process hatred
And lose count of eons’ fists
In the meantime, when I need guidance
When obstacles come my way
I’ll turn to Jesus Christ
And Anton Szandor LaVey
You say I can’t reconcile them
It’s impossible, you taunt
Well mine is a church of one
So I’ll interpret how I damn well want
Now you’d think my left would be evil
And you’d think my right would be godly
But opposite sides of the brain
Control opposite sides of the body
Because I type righthanded
I’ve got carpal in my right
No wonder I’m a southpaw
When my left goes south at night
It all fits together nicely
It makes such perfect sense
The grass is greener on both sides
And it hurts to sit on the fence
Just know the nature of what you want
And access both dominions
Why are you making such a fuss?
We’re all entitled to two opinions
Pray to God for capitalist cash
And to Satan for crystal meth
To the Lord to save your mother’s life
And to the Devil for Bush’s death
One is there for brotherly love
And one for your right to hate
If you want to get things done in this world
You gotta overdelegate
It’s really the best of both worlds
With two, you cannot lose
You’d have to be a half-wit
To have half a mind to choose
Heaven and Hell can have my halves
But what’s really a pain in the neck
Is my poor old corpus collosum
Is going straight to heck