New poems

A Newly Recovered Poem of Sappho

Rejoice in your beauteous gifts, o youth
and raise high your thrill-toned, love-song lyre!

Once my skin was soft to the touch
but now old age has come to my flesh
and white hair has formed from the dark

Heavy with suffering my soul has been forged
and my knees no longer can bear me up
who used to dance light-leggéd like gamboling fawns

I groan about it thickly   but what can be done?
for no one has the power to be an ageless human

O once the ruby-limbéd Dawn
was smitten with eros
for Tithonos
and carried him away
to the farthest reaches of the Gaia

But when she begged of Zeus
to make Tithonos immortal
she forget to ask that
he be given eternal youth

and so with the passing of time
she kept her fresh-wrought form
while gray old age bewizened her lover




The Impeachment of George Bush
—a World Wide Party

Today they impeached George Bush
and the world began to party

Flowers bloomed spontaneously
Trombones came out of attics by themselves
and began to play the “Celebration Waltz”

(all chant, with emphasis)
Send George Bush to jail!

Out in Des Moines the birds in the pet shops
suddenly knew “All you need is love”
and every single puppy could hold a D minor yowl!

In Italy they turned on all the ancient fountains
and the ghosts of Roman poets wrote encomia!

Send George Bush to jail!

Through the Arc de Triomphe
400,000 lily-carrying children sang
the two words of impeachment
“Égalité..... Liberté”

It was ’45 all over again

Send George Bush to jail!

In Bohemia the state glass works
produced a million blue plates of Absolute Joy!
to be given out free to the tourists of Prague!

654,000 tapdancers were seen in Santiago
surging past the house of Pablo Neruda
while the stolen books of ’73 were repaired

Send George Bush to jail!

Petrarch and Laura appeared holding hands
and watching the boat races along the Arno
beneath the bridge of sighs

Out of the mound of Troy
came the mother of Patroclus
with a basket of pomegranates
to heal the soul-wounds of Bush’s many killings

Send George Bush to jail!

On the cliffs of Leucadia
ancient Sappho sang
“There’ll be freedom to live as we love now
that he is gone”

The voice of  Thomas Jefferson
came across Virginia to ask that all citizens’ debts
to banks be forgiven

Send George Bush to jail!

Anita Ekberg swam naked and alone in the Trevi Fountain
she was so excited at George’s barring
and Catullus wrote three poems at the marvel

500,000 legless humans from U.S. and Chinese land mines
clicked their crutches to the beat as
Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition” played from giant helicopters
to lift the millions of unexploded land mines
out of the blood fields
& into U.N. casks

Send George Bush to jail!

Paul Bowles sent a waterpipe from Tangier
to Corso, Ginsberg and Orlovksy
in room 27 of the Beat Hotel on rue Git le Coeur
to celebrate the good news

Cassandra stands on Pennsylvania Avenue
and weeps this time with surprise
because the world at last is listening to her words,
“Goodbye George, your house has fallen without ashes!”

Party yay!  party say!
Time to dance all day!
and Send George Bush to jail!




Further Verses for "America the Beautiful"


O beautiful for the catalpa flower
And sunflowers in the field
Monarchs on the milkweed pods    
To mark the bounty's yield
America!  America!
Come sing your song of grace
For every hue beneath the blue
And every creed and race

O beautiful for prosperity
That reaches every land
And water pure cascading free
And healthcare in every hand
O Bountiful America!
Be glad of Eternity
And may your Dream stand in the Stream
Across the Galaxy!

O beautiful for the airplane ride
That sails above the plains
And over mountains, farmlands glide
And deserts bloomed with rains!
America!  America!
God bless thy Great Largess
And every town find full renown
And every wilderness!

O beautiful for the inventiveness
That purrs near electric streets
And freedom of the voice and press
The Dawn of Sharing greets
America!  America!
May you build sanctity
And see your Dream stand in the Stream
For all Eternity

O beautiful for towering ships
That speed the Milky Way
May peace imbue those starry trips
Where peaceful humans play
America! America!
Let justice forge your stay
And spread no harm nor foes alarm
Across the Spiralling Bay!

O beautiful for an end to war
An end to class and strife
Bring Freedom Rides where no one hides
The truth in every life!
America!  America!
Come sing your song of grace
For every hue beneath the blue
And every creed and race!


—written for Tuli Kupferberg’s
Parasong project




Poem to a Gnossienne of Erik Satie
(to be read while listening to Gnossienne # 5)

The issue of the Rose
so vital to our youth
shall rise again

It always has
it always
will

And it's
our dance of
our lives
to grow the rose

It always was
It always will

Ink on paper told me that
& the rose agrees

It always has
it always
will

There comes a time
when all the
petals have to fall
& yet there's
such a place
where petals
never fall

You know, my Erik—
they're the same same place!

Everyone
has a right
to food, a decent place to live, health

& fun, my Erik,
fun & fun & fun!

The rose haunts
all of time
it always has
it always will

Meanwhile
all of us fade
to the same
same
anarcho-determinist
post-marxist
place of the sun

in our
furry pajamas

And the rose haunts
all of time

it always has
it always will




Christmas in Missouri


I remember Christmas in Missouri
We would ice skate across the lake
Mama would put up the garlands
Red and gold and silver
And daddy would  cut us a pine tree
down by the creek bank
He'd fill in the breaches with branches
and baling wire
On Christmas Eve we'd gather to sing
those three chord hymns

Oh the icicle moon was a-gleaming
on Woods Chapel Road

There were children on bobsleds
in their wild Christmas scarves
down Woods Chapel Road

It was Christmas time in Missouri

I remember Christmas in Missouri
We would ice skate across the lake
Mama would put up the garlands
Red and green and silver
We'd dangle the mistletoe and the tinsel
out in the hallway

And Grandma would unwrap those tree balls
handed down from the pioneers

While Mama would bake fruit cakes in tins
for the sailor boys
on my brother's ship

They'd hang a wreath of holly
by the picture
of Franklin Roosevelt


Some years there was bounty
Some years there were half-empty socks
with bells on the toes

It was Christmas time in Missouri

Mama would come in our room
read us stories
She  came with those tales
of right and wrong
She said no matter how high you fly
Don't leave off your search
for the Good

Oh the icicle moon was a-gleaming
on Woods Chapel Road
We skated with lawn chairs in the light of a bonfire
by Woods Chapel Road
And someone was waiting
with a bowl of ambrosia
on Woods Chapel Road

It was Christmas time in Missouri
It was Christmas time in Missouri