Thursday, November 14, 2019

Hunger



                                                                                         for David Lerner

the 300 pound man cries
                I’m Hungry! So Hungry!
everyone laughs
says you eat enough for 3
are you pregnant?

the 300 pound man is rank
                with desire
saturated
with the scent of unbridled
lust
pregnant with poems

can’t speak or write them
without naming his Hunger
they hear him and laugh
you’re so funny they say
as he rips his heart
from his chest
and hands it bloody still beating
to the first
hands
that reach out to him

the 300 pound man
fails again
and he spits out hot venom
they bathe in it
like tears
salty like oceans
bearing them up while
he sinks

the 300 pound man dark
as hades
before Love had a chance
to feed him
his poems coughed up
like blood
from the lungs of a soul
denied food for too long

the 300 pound man
starved to death
So Funny they said




© 2019 pamela twining


Saturday, October 12, 2019

a miraculous accident of gender





The Argument
I am become Nightmare
but Who Are They whose Sleep must be deranged?
Who are those whose Dreams are Hauntings?
will we know it in their Faces?
                                 their Voices?
                                                           the patterns of their Lives?


The Vision

Living in the midst of what we hate, who will hear us
Change will come in time
they say
we Wait
and in our waiting we Work to turn the road
to alter the direction
to bring all that we dreamed to pass for those who follow
if not for us
the Waiting may consume our earthly lives
but what of Meaning?

we must bring back the spirit of the Journey
as told to us in children’s stories
the ones we held to hearts and believed as Truth
taught us how to live together in Love
taught Respect Compassion
Rule of Natural Law
the law of polity
if I die let it be in Struggle!
in death seek Light
and bring its strength to all Beings bring consciousness
bring faith

we Know now inescapably the unsounded depths
the immeasurable space and time
it is not for Us, mere flecks
of cosmic dust magnetized to others
opposing poles attracting poles
the same or other
unimportant
all end up in the arms of Earth
while flying Free on the Path of Moon


The Resolution

the Wind of Flame follows the path of no resistance
or Any resistance
There Is No Resistance
or so they say
we know this to be false
the Wind knows
the Flame knows
we who Started the Fire know
we hold the knowledge to our innermost unknowings
unacknowledged but Possible
in the insubstantial world
Rebellion against the extinction of races
of any Beings
All Beings
the conflagration spreads
who can stop it?

Spirit Wind carries the memory
carries the hopes
defines the Dreams of a suppressed People
conspiring unknowing in their own oppression
regulation
Opening comes with blistering pain
Light floods in; ignorance becomes impossible
comprehension fuels Rising Rage
white hot the Fire Bursts
in sparks and sheers of heaven’s breath
unremitting unanswerable
but Not inconceivable

Profound and bottomless
the Well of Darkness served to us

we are being Used against the Future
the depths sustained with false witness
the stories told made up by those
who Made us crave their favor
with harsh promises somehow desirable
for all that
the scruff of beard against tender skin
the overwhelming need
desire
impetus to Power

the tension
the plunging ever deeper
straining to obtain all Truth
all Understanding
in that race to the finish
we will cross the line Together Rising
into a place Only attainable by the Act of Love
and how will Love manifest?
and is it possible that we rise together
two or more with desire unslaked
and True Understanding still to come?

for coming to the Peak of the mountain
All is now descent
unless we Choose to fling ourselves unafraid
into the ether
the lawless world of swirling stars
our Mother shining full and ever-changing
never-changing
above around beneath All Ways always

How they torture us for loving them!

the Roar of the Flames is like applause
ringing out to Celebrate our freedom
Who could we turn to in our separate prisons?

but now the walls forever burst and burned
abandoned in the rush to Loving
there Are No Walls!
            there Are No Walls!



Thursday, September 19, 2019

Who Does It Serve?







the act of taking a life
in all societies the most circumscribed
there are reasons, are there not?
but no, perhaps not
all arguments for taking life come down
to narcissism
the I Am

but what of war
other-directed killing
a field of screaming giants running towards
someone whose biology screams back
I Must Live!
killing the Other ordered from Above
justification is necessary
to disobey the Prime Directive
Preserve Life at All Costs

hatred must be generated in war
to overcome that deeply ingrained anathema
they say it’s human nature
War
the need to kill aside from preservation
of one’s own
it’s necessary to create an Other
not Us
they are not human the same way we are human
and Our humanity has been ordained by the Almighty
to be superior
the only seed to be planted
the harvesting supposed to cull the worst
serve up the best
a harvest in war
a harvest in ceremonial sacrifice

so Bombs are dropped
knives swords bayonets bullets
pierce the softer necessary parts of bodies
liver
lungs
heart
heart
heart

if killing is necessary
and blind rage and fear rule the battlefield
the Weapons of War are no more
than killing machines
not meant to be survived
it isn’t meant
that the receiver of those death blasts
should be taken to hospital
nurtured and healed
it isn’t meant
to Gently shoot
to dissuade
to change the heart or mind
of the Other

it’s meant Berserker
it’s meant wholesale slaughter
it’s meant Bomb Em Back to the Stone Age
it’s meant to leave a pile of rotting corpses
it’s meant, the message to All Others
We are the Champions
We are the Winners
Our Story is told and the Other’s is buried
along with the bodies
Weapons of War are constructed to Kill
and to Kill
and to Kill
they are constructed to rain stinking death
on populations inhuman slash Evil

there must be no argument, Traitor!
you are condemned to the putrid heap
like all of the Others

bullets for war are designed to explode inside bodies
expand
fragment
spew sharp bladed particles
slicing dicing shredding liquifying
before exiting through openings the size of large fists
scrambling the innards like eggs
whoever thought of putting Humpty Dumpty
together again?

These are the weapons roaming halls
filled with children
laughing and fooling and teasing
the way children do
before falling to ground
flowers of evil sprouting ruby red
from their perfect young bodies
their twisted remains never moving
randomly patterned
burned on the retinas of those left to hide
screaming and crying
trying
not succeeding
         to be silent
mind’s eyes forever filled
with stark nightmares
visions of battlefield carnage
displacing the math test the school play
the prom

they say it’s human nature
War
but who is the Enemy on this bright morning
when innocents fall
never to see another day

Who is the Champion?
                Who are the Winners?
                                Who does this serve?