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Roger Landry Poem
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Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2013
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Roger Landry Poem
For eons the Wooly Mammoth slumbers, deep in his impatient sleep
Restless beneath his brilliant blanket of Artic Ice.
Neath the timeless tundra you can hear him weep.
Memory is a thunderstorm raging in the caverns of his mind
Frozen in the inexorable blue glacier of his torment,
Grinding down all time lost and misspent.
Aghast, he dreams of a past significantly better
And finds that tortuous road a loss much bitter,
He turns instead to the visions of a future perfect.
In the germ of his wintry bones there is flora fair
Potential foments in the virgin forests there.
Radiant aspirations are his heart’s true reason
So he thinks, I must have missed another climate, another season.
On feet that seek and find, he longs to wander forever
In the heat of the succulent jungle air.
He craves to fulfill his naked hunger
But lost, he can no longer.
All he can remember is this mind numbing slumber
And this cold, cold winter.
Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2008
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Roger Landry Poem
BIKER
The night sky is made of black tar, and broken glass,
And the moon, if you melt it in a spoon, once was an old hubcap.
So by the light of night, ride the Milky Way’s bright stars
And by day, cruse the endless highway,
Via cheap biker bars, expensive cigars, and blues guitars.
A heart made of gasoline and chrome,
The oily platelets of mother earth, is the only blood in my veins.
The road I roam, together or alone, is my home.
What is around the bend? And is it there still? That is all I ask.
So, fill the haloed hills with wonder. To wander is my task.
Brimstone, flame, and thunder, as I ride down the lane,
My brain, in a padded bucket, to prove that I’m not totally insane.
Picture my skin, some would call it a sin!
But, despite the pain, I like to go against the grain.
Demons, angels, and all beings that have wings,
Or a naked dame, to me they are all the same.
The wind boldly whispers through my hair.
If I listen, it will tell me the truth, but most of the time I don’t care!
There is hell to pay in hog heaven I’m told
So, with Dionysus, I celebrate the mystery of the unnamed tree,
For me, I must set my mind free, and dare to bare my soul.
The ghost in the machine I found is me.
And God, would you believe, I can make more noise than Thee?
In a gator’s abode my bones ride free, no cares to cross my ride
No law to abide, at least none that I saw!
If I were a serpent I would swallow my tail
And into eternity sail.
Where the rubber meets the road
There, forever, would be my abode!
Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2008
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Roger Landry Poem
Homeward Path 11/08 Roger M. Landry
Wise men say, stay out of the fray,
And perhaps that is logical, and even soundly psychological.
They advise, do not go my son into the dark wood; you will only come to no good.
And I ask, if the road is less traveled, it will leave me baffled?
The trail in the forest tall could it leave me feeling forever small?
Alone, will I not even hear the sound of the stately tree’s fall?
In my craven travels, shall I perhaps see the pellucid pillars of heaven seven,
Or experience the depraved depths of perdition?
But, what if there is no one there to tell?
No singing angels, or laughing demons from hell.
Shall I be weary of my iconoclastic dreams?
Because, in my youth, I had magic visions of being the princely toad,
Of crossing elegantly the paved road to fame.
However, carrion birds now read, feed on my bloody entrails strewn along the lane.
Now, I only wake up in the fevered night, no princess to soothe my stifled screams.
Beaten and torn, shall I become the salacious stripper of old?
That, with nagging words, expresses my vulnerable, and sagging soul.
Like a lost muse, shall the tiger burning bright, in the forest of the night,
Become my one and only frightful and guiding light?
I can see quite far from the gritty solitude of a lofty mountain.
But, would rather sit with my smiling children by a bubbling fountain,
Have someone park my expensive car,
Or sip beer, with friends, in a quaint neighborhood bar.
Going on a shopping spree and wearing designer clothes,
I think, is superior than to society loathe.
To have opulent gold is better than writing poetry in poverty, wouldn’t you agree?
Or, would it be better if I contemplate my fate, eternally alone, under a frigid night star,
While I pluck loose strings on an out of tune guitar?
They say that if you favor the glacier-blue, the flavor will get inside of you.
Now that I have made enough bad choices, because of those niggling internal voices,
I am eternally lost, my mind unloosing in a wilderness of my own choosing.
Like a pharaoh, I know there is a divine treasure in my head,
But, I work and work, feel dead, and just can’t get out of bed.
The road has its own agenda, to which I know my heart must surrender,
Therefore, I shall curb my shameful wrath,
And trust that my soul knows its homeward path.
Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2008
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Roger Landry Poem
God Rested
By the Sea of Tranquility dwelt the Trinity
And by the coast drove the Ghost
Along with the Father and the Son, They thought as one
With Buddha and Allah, They tested the nature of eternal strife.
From the tree’s double helix we have given them life,
But, the keys to the naked truth, We shall keep beneath our sacred robes.
In the cave’s shadow, we shall addle the lobes of their brains, and drive them insane!
Meanwhile Back on Mars:
Venus, and the Virgin Mary did smoke cigars,
Planning how to fight their dirty little wars.
We shall paint the bones of man red!
That said, We shall make him a war machine
And scar his spleen, and blood, with dread.
Allah, God of the many and the few,
Saints and sinners too,
Those who did not believe He slew.
Kill them with kindness was all He knew.
Zeus on a mountain high,
He lusted, loved them all in the sky,
Rested with all that was double breasted.
Buddha, contemplated the sound of one hand clapping,
While, with the other, he was slapping!
We have made man in Our image,
We have given him life, and the capacity to gauge
Made him the fool, made him the sage
We have given him the need to love
The desire to rage, to win, and to sin.
Male and female, We have created him.
We have given him the night, and the day,
The mind of the lie, and the light of the truth,
And it is for him to find what is sooth.
What the reality is, who is to say?
To the high, or the low, how will he know?
Depends on what seeds he learns to sow,
On which branch he does allow himself to grow.
There is hell to pay when the word does become flesh,
The science of today becomes the foolishness of yesterday.
Don’t ask God why mans mind it does expand with free will,
Because, on the seventh day God rested,
And, is resting still!
Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2008
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Roger Landry Poem
GALLALEO
Man was born stark, innocent, into a mysterious jungle dark,
His raw brain did train at the point of a bloody fang and claw.
Around the flickering firelight, imagination sculpts, as fantastic shadows spar,
Dueling gods and goddesses came down to govern from the stars,
Fuel for a mind to worry, nature then was stubborn and cruel,
They gathered in superstitious groups to cope, sacred names gave them hope.
Fire, wheat, wheel, roof, and onto the horse’s hoof,
Proof that man had arrived, he was still alive!
But, a future flat is the world that Jehovah begat.
Jesus, and his old god kin, was crucified for our sins.
Old and new, all the religions that man knew, they never grew.
Alas, it was a sin to look through the question glass,
But, if an eye is open to the lie, how can the question die?
Once the apple has fallen from the tree, the genii must run free.
The bottle is no longer the model; truth has now gone to do battle!
Earth, sun, galaxy, infinity, multiple realities, string theory
How boring is God, how disappointing the theology,
If he is only the god of Abraham, lord of lowly man so bland,
A grain of sand, a pearl perhaps, but in a universe so grand,
One infinity, in an infinity of infinities!
Quantum to quark, then zebra to aardvark, and back again,
To all things yet undiscovered in the dark,
So, as to allow man’s soul to grow,
God has yet to find His Galileo!
Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2008
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Roger Landry Poem
If I were an ogre, with delight, for you, an army I would fight.
I would flex my might to be with you this night.
And even though I am a foolish goon, for you, I would translate an ancient rune,
Or, if I could, I would jump over the new moon at noon.
With a spoon, I would empty the sea for thee.
I would wait eons for the blue, blue glaciers to melt,
With a goose bump coat, and a tattered beaver pelt.
Or, I would wait millenniums, wait for some messiah I don’t know to show,
Wait for some second coming, don’t you know,
If with you, the rest of my life I am spending.
Just for fun, I would walk on the sun, because with you I could not burn.
At every turn, with you, I would love to stroll the rings of Saturn nice and slow.
It would be a lark, and rather droll, don’t you know.
So, just give me a call, if you want me to be a waiter at a hungry lions ball,
I would not call in sick, especially if you would be my loving chick.
If I were a bee, I would gather all the nectar in the world.
It would be no trouble at all to do.
But, it still would not be as sweet as you.
So, sleep with me tonight, in this eternal instant, on some blissful coal bed.
We will wake up the delightful dead,
We will sing a song that will keep the home fires well fed.
Between you and I, eternity will flash by, in the wink of an eye!
Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2008
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Roger Landry Poem
God meant well
But, when he created heaven, he also created hell.
When he created Jesus, his brother, The Devil fell.
Like a jilted fly in the sacred ointment
Every day since has been his long day of atonement.
****
I have a heart of white-hot fire, and duty is my sole desire.
My radiant beauty is there in twilight’s ardent orb fair,
And in the argent veil of dawn, my maiden’s golden glow does show.
In twilight’s visage of my crimson soul burns bright,
And, as time’s misjudged spawn, I weep.
Abandoned in a blanket of frozen snow, and crushing granite,
I descend, rejected, dejected, into the nocturnal kingdom of eternal light.
****
You have made man of mud that he may quickly die,
A crude eater, a bottom feeder, and an endless breeder,
You say, his lowly slave soul knows no lofty goal.
Thus you use up that, which you did create,
And your scorn will not abate; yet this lowly suckling you ask me to venerate?
****
My brother, you have given me divine wing
That I may soar above all things profane and sacred.
My king, you I adore, and your haloed praise I sing; the ether as my song,
And, in the making of the earth my voice clear does ring.
Dear Lord, through my impassioned veins, haloed blood does flow,
Fine wine that glows with yearning, yet my reverent desire you are spurning.
Do not cast me down from heaven’s spire, do not burn me on loves funeral pyre.
In me you hide your dark side,
Inside me, the most maligned creature in all of space and time, you reside.
Cast aside on this day; your searing words flay the flesh from my smoldering bones.
Repugnant carrion birds have plucked the devotion from my crestfallen eyes,
And, eternal damnation for my pride, is my efforts only prize.
****
You created all, big and small. Why is it my flaw You never saw?
You made me what I am; yet for an eternity, Me you condemn?
From your holy throne above, you say you are pure love.
Yet, in the fabric of creation, the sacred and the profane, evil you have woven,
And with disdain, my soul, from you, now is cloven,
You say, all you can forgive; yet me, eternal damnation give?
If I am pure evil still, it was put there by your stiff will.
So now that I am beyond redemption, it is I, who gets to ask the questions,
To teach your creations to doubt, and ask what you are all about.
Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2008
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Roger Landry Poem
ADAM LOVES TO DOUBT
The hand of man touched the mind of God,
And the word became flesh!
Thus Adam was seeded, planted in the Garden of Eden.
Lord, I live in a sea of infinity, said he, yet there is no one here but me.
The sun burns my virgin brain, and my soul with ferule flame.
The plants and animals, short and tall, I named them all,
But, there are none here that out to me call.
There is the dance of the menagerie, but again, none dance with me.
Oh Lord, I am troubled, help me a mate, and my inexpiable desire slake.
So, I lay my head here among the stars teeming, dreaming with desires.
Make her with long arms like spiral galaxies, to love me, oh Sire;
Breasts like two pale moons, rising in a soft bed of morning glory.
Color her thighs like red-hot rainbows,
Bejeweled pillars inlayed, a fiery arch in heaven to span my fervent ache.
Her skin, make it akin to velvet fronds, dew drops in a morning fog,
Make her right Lord, fair as lunar light rising.
Make her voice like a thousand song- birds singing, birthing the blushing dawn,
Her pregnant lips, like butterflies collecting nectar from fragrant spring meadows.
No grain of sand am I, no mote of dust in a cosmic sky.
Are you so busy running infinity, that you have no time for me?
My small world is full of grateful grandeur, but my monumental heart is empty,
You have made it of gold, and filled it with coal.
Would that I could be a fly on the ceiling of the universe so high,
To understand your plan for man when Gods meet in secret to discuss what is human.
You wander randomly like a drunken hobo, your creation below,
What is our condition here? Do you know? Do you care?
Under the evening starlight, take my bones and make her a delight,
A rib to a summer’s breeze, and name her for the twilight.
Put flesh on my bone, so I am no longer alone,
Call her Eve, so to her I may cleave,
Do it Lord, so I may believe!
Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2008
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Roger Landry Poem
God Has No Clothes
Man’s mind meanders among the stars endless.
Who, what, where, when and how, our questions are relentless.
No infinity is too far to see, no space too small, or pointless to be.
Our curiosity limitless and free.
But, humanity awoke face down one day,
Face down in an alleyway in Bombay.
Shackles on our mind we did find, and by falsehoods, our eyes were made blind.
Eden pure, our souls did crave, so Yahweh created a trap.
We were made slaves by the tyranny of our innocence!
With reason fully formed, we awoke with an inquisitive snap.
And, cocooned in our humble beginnings, we sought to find the divine sense.
But, all we got, from what we thought was a loving god,
Were a mighty rod, and a seven-fold slap!
Eden was a set up,
And Yahweh had no intention of letting us drink from the sacred cup!
If god’s knowledge is infinite, why would our curious minds,
Which were on fire to create, he desire to limit?
If god is omniscient, knowing man would fall,
Why would he put those two trees in the garden at all?
If for knowledge sake, of the fruit we did partake, what did it, from the almighty, take?
What mother would not fight for the right?
Fight to have her children walk with angels in the light?
And, why would god have to lie, and say we would surly die?
The serpent told the truth without guile, but him we do revile.
If god is eternal and loving, why the fuss? Why not share the tree of life with us?
Above and below, when Adam was hiding in the garden,
Why didn’t god know, and why did he ask Adam, himself to show?
If god is full of love and grace, why would nudity be such a disgrace,
And, if so, why not cover us with fur, so this could not occur?
Was it not rather careless of him to make us so hairless?
Why, alone at home with your wife, a fig leaf sew,
When every guy I know, wants more leg to show?
The universe feels no shame, and our DNA is the same. So where is the blame?
Jehovah spoke in a voice of thunder, with a scalding tongue of fire and brimstone,
And, with his tyranny, crushed the future of his creation in red-hot bile.
Now, reviled by the so-called god, it is time to add up our gains,
Open up our brains, and walk away from our chains.
Copyright © Roger Landry | Year Posted 2008
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