unmistakable
the knife slicing through daybreak ~
songs heard near and far
a striking beauty
the baltimore oriole ~
bird of my home state
“Sedation”
by Positive Mark
Deep, still blue.
Rage from the Peekskills, now caged from his street skills, with the vantage point of a gargoyle heart of stone.
The streets should be mine, but there’s always other stragglers.
Used to be streets. Now, it’s backroads, chasing antlers.
Conjuring faces of the fallen. Wondering from what damned direction I’ma hear our sins calling.
Freeing the spirit with acts that defile matter.
Forever shaking the salt from the blood splatter.
Heart with a hard on for that incense carbon smoke.
Fix me up a bump, and I damn sure better choke.
Point me to the spot where them cats is on dippers.
Scroll down on Backpage for Baltimore strippers.
Five day admission, and back to the medication.
Deep, still blue.
Drenched in darkness for sedation.
You wished upon a star
and got left out in the rain.
You gave it all your heart
and it just got broke again.
Oh… It just got broke again.
You dressed unto the nines,
now I guess he’ll never see.
You painted a whole world, clearly it
is not meant to be.
Not meant to be.
Oh… not meant to be.
He let you down again
now you’re sick of this pain,
from Baltimore to somewhere
should you get onto that train?
Oh… get on to that train.
Oh… get on to that train.
Oh… get on to that train.
He crashed against my glass
stunned into silence
he lay in shock, poor thing
I placed him in a lined box
wrapped in soft bamboo
he rested and recouped
Two hours later
I found him standing
at the edge, waiting
We made eye contact
I took a photo,
then he flew away
Boy ! he really made my day.
The Baltimore oriole sports an orange coat,
But I haven't seen one; to L.A., they're remote.
Their rich whistling song is a sweet herald of spring.
Ones like Frank Robinson have a great home run swing.
He fights witches, vampires, zombies
and plagues
and yet his most disgusting foe
is left unseen
Dark and nasty
devils within
they conspire and collaborate
amongst their fire
His harpoon can't kill them all
but he's shown his skill with
the zombies
Baltimore is searching for the vampire Haigus
but it's the filth I fear the most
that lie in bundles waiting to pounce
Let the sun shine one day
and rid the earth of the darkness
let humanity win once more
We both reach for a camera
both forget to click on the image
as a flight of rainbows takes wing.
Tangerine buds bloom into a sherbet fountain.
Orange and black ride a ray of sunlight.
“Phew, did you catch it?”
“No I got nuked by the moment!”
“Yes, better that way.” she replied thoughtfully.
Once came a smart tinker to Baltimore
He peddled his pots near a dry-goods store
He hawked them all in one day
For whatever folks would pay
Then hurriedly left and came back with more.
written January 19, 2022
whistler of orchard
sweet flute chirp weaves vivid plume ~
of haunting cadence
In heat
the pulse of your streets.
I've heard the crack
of hard political whips
that pinch the air.
Cores of human topography,
your aging neighborhoods.
Your people kick cans
counting gravel like jewels,
while chiselers roast dogs
in the courthouse.
Swine flu kills
the papers.
And already the sky is
feverish.
In your train tunnels
a violinist plays pianissimo.
I've seen
railroad men search for him
along your tracks.*
But you are always
the sweltering sore
of the Atlantic.
A rusty mouth
for dark ships.
A blind brick town
of boarded storefronts
and ***** flicks,
you are buried.
Brown bag your way
to the last alley.
The tenants throw
rocks at your windows.
The rain has stopped
washing your sewers.
*From an old legend of
railroad workers on the east coast of the United States.
Published Black Buzzard Press - 1982
Bleeding as purple as the Ravens jersey with pride
A city so welcoming, fittingly and adoringly...
Labeled "Charm City," and "B'more"; this city is much more!
There's no dull moment or sight
ln this wondrous place. There's so much to see!
Most definitely livable...and not "rat-infested"!
Orioles tweet for this "Birdland" at the break of dawn
Receptive to tourists with open arms. Just like...
Every American city, imperfect, yet always prosperous!
Date written: 11/10/2019
I wrote this poem about 3 months ago but forgot to post it.
We both reach
for a camera,
but forget
as the moment takes wing.
Tangerine buds bloom
into a sherbet fountain.
An orange and black dartle
of downy sunshine.
Hearts abeyant,
our perception hangs
from each ribbon of light.
She was faster than a rattlesnake
She could split a log in two
She was better than any hand
I think I ever knew
She was famous all throughout the west
But, it really was a shame
She wasn't known for what she did
She was famous for her name
She could rope and shoot and ride
Better 'n any man I know
But laugh at this girl's name
And she'd hog tie you for show
Christened Patricia Bollinger
From Baltimore she came
She didn't like the term cow girl
So, Cow Patty was her name
Baltimore.
They came here, the black population, from the south, to get work
In factories and the rate of pay for them the poor from the south,
Was good and a neighbourhood evolved, there was progress and
Peace thriving working class districts. Capitalism is not about safety,
Shifting luck the industry moved abroad where wages are cheaper,
And where should the people go? Boarded up shops, factories and
Broken windows, where should the people go? Restless youth no
One has given them any education, where should the people go?
Being black and suffering the stigma of having been sons of slaves to
Break out of the stigma of inferiority is not easy and often its ends
In frustrated and depressed violence.
The black people of Baltimore are suffering the same contempt as my
Parents did in Norway simply for being working class. Askew is
The capitalist foundation, force into life a socialist party a force if needed
Without compromise, a political transformation. When politicians say
they work for the middle- class people; we know the black working- class
is blissfully excluded.
Baltimore.
They came here, the black population, from the south, to get work
In factories and the rate of pay for them the poor from the south,
Was good and a neighbourhood evolved, there was progress and
Peace thriving working class districts. Capitalism is not about safety,
Shifting luck the industry moved abroad where wages are cheaper,
And where should the people go? Boarded up shops, factories and
Broken windows, where should the people go? Restless youth no
One has given them any education, where should the people go?
Being black and suffering the stigma of having been sons of slaves to
Break out of the stigma of inferiority is not easy and often its ends
In frustrated and depressed violence.
The black people of Baltimore are suffering the same contempt as my
Parents did in Norway simply for being working class. Askew is
The capitalist foundation, force into life a socialist party a force if needed
Without compromise, a political transformation. When politicians say
they work for the middle- class people; we know the black working- class
is blissfully excluded.
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