I wake up to my TV blasting episodes of Woody Woodpecker.
I wipe my encrusted eyes, which had a field day in that dream I had
Involving two Swedish women, a Latin princess
With curvaceous hips that could save me if I ever fell from mountain climbing,
A Sony boom box made in 1984 playing Duran Duran,
And empty boxes of Junior Mints, M&M Peanuts, & Cool Whip.
I walk to my front door to discover hundreds of blood lettered Post-It notes
Slid under by my friendly Mafia neighbors,
“Turn that crap down or say ‘HOLA’ to my little friend! Woody sucks! ”
So, instead of apologizing, I grabbed my power drill
Which I bought off this Mexican guy named Bob
Standing in front of my local Home Depot,
I thanked each of my neighbors by drilling Wal-Mart smiley faces
Smoking Cuban cigars & holding Shotguns
Into their doors
At this point, I popped in some Belgian waffles & French Toast sticks
Into my Cookie Monster toaster oven and turned on the news.
What was I thinking?!
News reports on Sugar Daddies being harassed by stalking gold-diggers,
Another asinine Final Destination movie,
More teacher-student scandals,
Celebrity break-ups & pregnancies
Oh, how the sheep live vicariously through them
Where’s that damn noose I bought off Bob?!
To remove my early morning frustrations,
I turned on my Xbox 360 and popped in Guitar Hero
In which I jammed out to Stevie Wonder’s Superstitious
While performing Riverdance on my hardwood floor
The neighbors below me added a nice, rhythmic sound with their broomsticks.
After my Pilates workout, I decided to strip off my clothes
So I can feel FREE like a Tree-hugging barn swallow
And fill my bathtub with a bottle of Tickle Me Elmo Bubble Bath liquid,
Which I also bought off Bob
Shortly after, I yelled “THIS IS SPARTA!” and performed a belly flop into the tub…
After waking up from my concussion, I laughed maniacally
With my face underwater
My laughs were heard through the popping bubbles rising to water’s surface
I passed out again with a drumming thud against my porcelain dreams.
Second attempt at recovery, SUCCESS!
I gathered all my utility bills
A filled, plastic gas tank, another purchase from Bob
And a Jerry Garcia branded lighter
As inferno warmed my screaming loins,
Blasting John Lennon’s “Imagine” on my 8-Track,
The local Fire department sliced my front door
With titanium axe and an inscription: “Here’s Johnny”
As hundreds of angry firemen & neighbors stampede into my child-like day
3pm, Day Unknown:
I awaken with lines imprinted on my Latin cheeks
From wooden office desk
Strange stares from coworkers
With “I’m all out of Love” playing on the faded, company radio
And a post-it note, “Come see me in my office”,
©Drake J. Eszes
To the seedlings sprouting in the 8 corners of the world:
An open communique can lead towards
a perilous precipice overlooking jagged rocks
being pounded by the relentless waves
of a cold, apathetic ocean --
in such a circumstance,
it doesn't take much to slip,
to be pushed, to be sent over the edge,
shattering upon the rocks below,
sucked down by an undertow
erasing all evidence of your prior existence.
We have come to an impasse,
the windows of opportunity
in the jet-streams of change,
are passing by at astounding speeds.
A true Anarchist
is not a Terrorist;
leave such decrepit despondency
to ultra-fanatic zealots and the New Gestapo.
A true Anarchist
should not fight for lawlessness,
should not wish for chaotic, wanton destruction -
such myths are propagated by automatons
and the controllers themselves.
A true Anarchist
should not raise placards in protest,
should not spray-paint graffiti
upon the walls of gaudy Bauhaus replications,
nor lob Molotov cocktails
at an establishment so entrenched,
four heads grow back
to replace every head, decapitated.
A true Anarchist
dons a masque of mirages,
reflecting nationalism, consumerism and Swastikas
back into the eyes of the pushers.
A true Anarchist does so
by donning the uniforms of business districts,
of the worker,
of the paint-splattered, ink-stained artisan.
When a true Anarchist
gains the confidence and trust
of Drones left in charge
of oiling the cogs,
a true Anarchist enters the control-room
not to smash instruments,
turns dials, flicks switches, presses buttons,
re-writes programs and codes,
in order to help alter the directional course
of the very Beast itself.
It was kind of nice having money all the
Looking back when I was seventeen,
I looked forward to going to work.
It is unlike what I feel about work now.
I did a lot of reading as a child.
I read all kinds of books.
I would consider Oak Lawn a safe
I can’t remember any times when I got beat up.
I did a lot of running home and telling.
I avoided a lot of suffering by talking to
My parents about the bullies.
It wasn’t until junior high that I had to
Take care of a fight that went way wrong.
I was scared to death of a seventh grader.
I fought him, and found out he wanted to
I wasn’t that good of a
I got better
In high school.
It was kind of chaotic, and the wrestling matches
Were more “fighting” than wrestling.
I hung in school and made a name for myself
At Oak Lawn Community High School.
My sister gave me a collection of albums
My junior year.
I was introduced to all kinds of music by
My first good introduction to music came
My sophomore year.
A friend introduced me to “The Police” with
“Zenyatta Mondatta” and “Ghost in
He told me what he did at his party
In eighth grade.
They sat around and played Gin.
They drank soda.
They went bowling.
I got off to a late start with music,
And I finally caught up with my tape-
Radio I got for Christmas my junior year.
I could have had a big party,
But I decided to wait.
I didn’t really have one except
The one’s I had in grammar school.
My friend thought he was going to
Get married to this one girl at O.L.C.H.S.
It fizzled out like my relationship did.
That girl liked someone else though.
I should have given up calling her,
It was no fun talking to her.
She didn’t talk to me at all in school.
I’m not sure she even knew who I was
I didn’t have anymore classes with her.
Her boyfriend went out for basketball
Like I should have done. I was pretty good. Maybe just
Doing my chess and studying was the best thing for me to do.
Paul Celan (1920 in Cernauti, Romania - 1970 in Paris) was a poet and translator. Paul
Antschel was born into a Jewish family in Romania, but as a writer used the pseudonym
"Paul Celan," becoming one of the major German-languuage poets after World War II. Celans
parents were deported by the Nazis in 1942 to a death camp in Transnistria (area between
Moldvia and Ukraine). His Father died of thyphoid, his mother was shot. The deportation
and the death of his parents left deep marks in Paul Celan. From 1942-1943 he was
imprisoned in work camps and had to work in road construction in southern Moldavia. After
the liberation by the Red Army, Celan went back to Czernowitz and finally settled in Paris
in 1948. In 1969 he travelled to Jerusalem, only fwe months before his death.
Circumstances and true date of his death are not really known but it is believed that he
drowned himself in the Seine River in April 1970. His body was found near Coubevoie, ten
kilometres downstream in the Seine. He was buried on May 12th 1970 in Paris.
Todtnauberg (Paul Celan)
Arnika, Augentrost, der
Trunk aus dem Brunnen mit dem
Hütte, (= Hut in English)
die in das Buch
- wessen Namen nahms auf
vor dem meinen? -
die in dies Buch
geschriebene Zeile von
einer Hoffnung heute,
auf eines Denkenden
Orchis und Orchis, einzeln,
Krudes, später, im Fahren,
der uns fährt, der Mensch
der's mit anhört,
pfade im Hochmoor,
Arnica, eyebright, the
draft from the well with the
star-die on top,
written in the book
- whose name did it record
before mine? -
in this book
the line about
a hope, today,
for a thinker's
in the heart,
forest sward, unleveled,
orchis and orchis, singly,
crudeness, later, while driving,
he who drives us, the man,
he who also hears it,
trails on the highmoor,
Celan: "Todtnauberg" (translated by Pierre Joris)
Used by permission of the translator
Altogether unprofitable sentimental but no fool they call him an old sap The taste of knowledge to him is sweet to get more valuable than sap to a tree even more valuable than the gold that runs from seven hills prolongs the days: but the years of the wicked shall be shortened. The Lord does hate pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way, and the froward mouth the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom with an expected end pure love as God gives the increase I have tasted the Lord is gracious A strong warning from the savior Jesus He is Lord whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire some may say the old sage is just saber rattling Essayage the shoe on the other foot walking a mile in someone else shoes who has two left feet and one leg longer truly your feet are bound to get sore circling around the mountain just assaying the metal who is your maker I know mine For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding eternal weight of glory I am not straining gnats just spitting out the the filthy camel Love the Lord God Jesus and every man your neighbor all the glory of man as the flower of grass like sagebrush God made foolish the wisdom of this world put your faith and hope in God and not in men though man's urban inflections change the Word of the Lord stands sure Everlasting superior are God's ways than man's momentary dullness
I live the day to dream the night
As I dream the night to live the day
I work the day to rest the night
As I rest the night to work the day
I pay the day to gain the night
As I gain the night to pay the day
I give the day to earn the night
As I earn the night to give the day
Life is all about time
As time is all about day and night...
So packed and full is the train
a lot die trying
to taste of its final gain.
This journey so full of pain
as it seems
all that Life can offer is a cane
treating its bunch of victims with disdain.
But don't give it all up
and go off the lane
to this cause stay true and sane.
In Life priorities, make it the main
provided it is clean and plain.
Cos finally, it won't be in vain.
Just be patient on the rain
when its out pour comes
your rewards shall build up
like the empire in Spain.
Accepting the newly found guardian
whom unto you it begets
after near-surviving years of neglect.
Now, your pain it will recompense
and deservedly account for every drop of your sweat!
Inches make feet without inches there is no foot without beginnings there is no work without measure there is no dearth without a ruler there is no worth there must be rules and there are rules but eye will let them all apply to them my enemies at work and never eye. The horse runs well it has a heart so then they fill syringes from the start to inject the muscles of the neck to make the beast faster than the wind oh heck the animal is dead it never hit the ground but flew too fast and lost the race and life. Desert life is winterless but not without some weather life the sun is always shading and the water is found in sub altern placing near the animals for killing under the ledge of apprehension near the fire of desperation comes the frog and toad and watercrest nut sandwiches. Eye had been to the desert on a horse with no namme it felt good to be out of the rain. Voices come out at me from the air into mye membrain eye call it Disraeli musick it is usually someone in the area with a boom box or even cars with the windows rolled down can be the culprits they hound me when eye am hicking place to place. There is other answers to the crazxy place eye hear noises mad mostly by people in the other cubicles the walls are just invisible the talking is allowed. The thief cannot sneak in sneakers they squeak like he is sweating in his shoe laces. This brings me to mye priority eye. The reason that no one wants to be a Detective is the movies the guy may have had DAMES by the score but he had fights and was so sore the men were ruthless and left him spinning on the side of every road. The streets of New Nuevo York has gum shoe on them. The American idea of Indians and wampum has brought us to the test of food in rest or rants of foreign style they smile and bring the menu back to make certain that the orders write the man has pointed several times at five bills a whack. One from Column A and 2 from Column B brings us to a bill of $23. Well eye wanted some meat too but you are so expansive. Rice and curry hot mustard radishes. Try finding food in the summer time how careful now that eye a homeless one should be then tossing caution to the winding blowing wind when it seems only wrapped so tightly to keep flies at night away. To feed myself is easy to offer some to others almost impossible a few times eye have asked to share they slide that nostril in the air and leave the food to the one that found it in the lair of tossed and discarded things the general city the loose leaf cabbage so nicely adds a bite to the membrain of mye priority eye.
"~ (~) ~"
........... "~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~" ...........
~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~
~ (~) "I believe True
Humility is Innocent,
and free -
move in Gratitude -
and being Heavenly,
and Gracious, Tenderly-
it is Always Surrendering-
itself to the Opportunity -
abide in Peace and-
it - thereby -
being recreated -
itself; before the-
brevity of-it's days;
the-limitation; or-matter". (~) ~
I would like to thank particularly as I am adopted my many Mothers, and Fathers, family's
and friends and the family whom I am not with now of my marriage ... . Your patience with
me along with God's the time shared is the reason I stand here today.
My work was mainly inspired by one of the greatest poets I believe to ever live. I believe with
all that was in him he wrote, and with all that was in him he lived for what he wrote. Mainly
two poems. Among others. The poems *Mending Wall* & *The Road Not Taken.*. Written By
none other than *Robert Frost*. These two poems sum up all of his work I believe, as well as
mine. I wrote a poem inspired by both. Here it is. The words of this poem form in the shape
and reference a picture of me as a lad, also center alined it forms an open vessel ready to be
filled. ""Written for my angels ((INSPIRATION") Raquel, and Jonathan. "Take-untrodden-
paths, LIVE... !""
~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~
She was always on beat and the most fluent mover. Never hesitant to step out onto her linoleum playground, Letting the stage lights beam down at her like sunshine, only refracting rays to intensify her lime light see she… was a dancer. &no I’m not talking about ya everyday tutu wearing mannequin. This one was special. The music was a part of her, she found a rhythm in every void and a tune in all speeches, it could only, flow thru her mind like water through the globe, more than she runs through my thoughts, like the way those greens slips of sustenance fell to the ground as she worked her pole.
Tragic ending to the perfect fairytale.
Mommy and Daddy had her dancing at six and in and out of auditions, wishing for her dreams to be realized unlike her own. Praying that her daughter could be somebody important, the next best thing since Broadway, better than Dejan Tubic, another Janelle Ginestra, but daddy had a sweet spot for his youngin. Wanting more for an innocent life and only turned her out of a fantasy. Pushing her on with the hopes only fools in the Ghetto would believe. Graduation day, she crashed hard, spinning back into reality. With no way to pay for her Julliard dream, a fistful of issues, and not a pot to piss in. She was strolling the block one night, and, heard music. Got sucked into the charisma of a strip joint. One second she was on the corner, everything goes black and when she comes to… she’s bare, with enough ones to get a place and put some food in her belly. That night she looked in the mirror… breaking down crying… all the dreams she had, crushed by the nimble fingers of fate. She doesn’t pity herself for long. Her mind’s already made up. “Gotta do this for me…” She rests, and the next day she finds herself back to the club to make more ones and satisfy more customers. It wasn’t the life she chose, but it’s one she’ll never regret, cause always had that sweet spot for her in el Corazon.. and she’ll always be, Daddy’s Little Girl.