Victory

Victory At Any Cost (April 8, 2008)

General Petraeus, your mission is dragging
Cheney is willing but spirits are sagging
Vict’ry you say is round the next corner
Explain to the mothers who wait by the coroner

The specious invasion at five years and counting
Our country it suffers from backwards accounting
Library hours grow shorter and shorter
Money for textbooks they’re spending on mortar

The bloodshed increases and George doesn’t see
He said it was finished in May of 03
Each day your forecast grows fairer and fairer
When did that country get riddled by terror?

With 4,000 dead, on our side alone
It’s too soon for towels or fits to be thrown
Now is the time to be hopeful and strong
But glasses in deserts aren’t half full for long

I hope we aren’t half as dumb as you think
The longer we stay so the deeper we sink
Protecting your honor, young gentlemen die
While Exxon sees profits go straight through the sky

You entered their land with a force of deceit
And coming back home is the mark of defeat
So send the boys in for another attack
If you had your way they would never come back

I Pledge A Meanness

I pledge a meanness to the man
Who schemes and conspires for power
But oh how the mighty do fall
From grace to perdition
From faith to sedition
With lust and dishonor for all

Equine Amity

The End All Be All

Three horsemen and I went riding this morning
And raising our voices we issued a warning
To speak of such matters so often untold
Together we witnessed a new day unfold

Out of the darkness with twilight emerging
The omens of ruin were gravely converging
So four of us mounted our colorful horses
Divinely invoking our farsighted forces

Bad news was broadcast all over the herd
Of famine and pestilence not to be cured
Drawn from the quiver my arrows let loose
And fell like a plague that was sent down from Zeus

My fellow beside me on cinnamon steed
Announced to all races, regardless of creed:
Beware the production of weapons galore
Your earth will be scorched and divided by war

In the streets of Japan where our bugles resounded
The next seal opened and man was astounded
Two cities submitted to Hell’s trumpet call
Till nothing was standing, no tree stump at all

On ebony bronco my next mate he measured
Four cups of wheat, and unfairly treasured
Before you go hungry, consider the reasons
Why flooding and droughts have been flouting the seasons

A hot wind is roaring with sea levels rising
Tornadoes in Europe no longer surprising
Now cyclones blow madly and gloom they betoken
Just see how the towers and levees are broken

Offering wisdom we hoped they would hear it
Atop my white stallion I spoke with great spirit
Into the masses where businessmen stirred
But over the din went the message unheard

It’s only themselves to whom they’ve been lying
For no sum of money can keep them from dying
Rose-colored glasses and rich sugar coating
Nothing can sweeten the taste of foreboding

Still they remain disinclined to believe us
It’s ever much easier not to receive us
The words that we utter are simply ignored
But the sisters of Fortune will deal the reward

Finally our colleague comes riding behind us
Thin, pale and pasty as if to remind us
The news we declare is a doom we must share
When death wields the scythe, not a life will he spare

Our fate has been sealed and nothing can save us
For these are the days when doom shall enslave us

Little more than life and death

"The Original Adventure"
Remember the spiral that brought you to light
Pulling you down in a moment of fright
              By casting all doubt
              You clawed your way out
Venturing forth from the black womb of night

"Resurrection"
Three and a half years without any rain
No crops in the field and the livestock in pain
              At last thunder struck
              A change in our luck
And finally the orchards are blooming again

"Butter of Immortality"
There's a legend of yore, from when gods were maternal
When Vishnu and Shiva fought forces infernal
              From the Milky Way fountain
              With a snake 'round the mountain
They churned out a batch of the Butter Eternal

The Grover Beach Grunge

This one goes out to the legions of Granola groupies who have been begging for more locally-inspired Limericks. In response to the relentless and overwhelming demand, it is my pleasure to present you all with "The Grover Beach Grunge" . . .

Rednecks rush out to the sand dunes of Grover
Breaking their limbs when their buggies roll over
              An egregious offense
              With no common sense
They might as well bulldoze the White Cliffs of Dover

Original Goddess & Earth Mother

Close your eyes for a moment and pause
Removing yourself from the natural laws
              Imagine your tomb
              Like a watery womb
And embrace Artemis, the original cause

another metaphysical dilemma

Limerick #366
Stand by the river, examine her course
Moving with steady unstoppable force
              As the cycle goes round
              The first drop can't be found
And still we expect to uncover the source

Our Father

Our Father, you’re consubstantial,
However we call your name.
Yahweh, or Allah,
We choose to follow
The forces that circle within.
Give us the patience to trust ourselves
And relinquish our egos
As we receive those who punish themselves.
And breeding more toleration,
We decrease the illusion.
For I am thee, and he is she, and you are me,
And we are all together.
          -Amen.

September 11th

We've come a long way since I wrote this in the lobby of a youth hostel in Lubeck, Germany, on Sept 16, 2001.
Thanks, George, for proving me wrong.

I hear a time bomb ticking down
I see a dark and heavy cloud
Stars and stripes speak words of war
Nothing like nothing before
Caught with our defenses down
An enemy that can’t be found
Fire the engines – aim the guns
At anything that walks or runs
Koran thumpers and the Bible belt
Terror like we’ve never felt
If it’s Allah versus Jesus
Then it’s Satan who increases
Heaven help us through this hour
Stop this little show of power
Stop the war while you still can
Save this sorry race called Man

Pipe Dreams

Suffering in the caboose on the bullshit train to emerald city

I should have been a plumber
Instead of trying to use my head
I’ve tried to be creative
Should have studied cars instead

No more time to read these days
Reality shows run back to back
Libraries closed like minds
Education is under attack

Books are out of fashion
Unless they teach of home repair
I should have been a plumber
They make money everywhere

Books are now unwanted
They require us to think
But a plumber’s always needed
Every household has a sink

I should have been a plumber
Charging hundreds every hour
I could feed my family better
If I learned to fix a shower

Instead my time is wasted
Studying Henry, James and Joyce
When I could’ve studied welding
A more productive choice

So now I check my bank account
And wonder in despair
Where I’ll find the money
When our rooftop needs repair

I should have been a plumber
Eating sushi every week
I should have been a plumber
Instead of just a geek

September 8th is finally here

Tomorrow is Grandparents' Day all across America. I may not have time to visit my Grandma this weekend. Perhaps I'll stay home and balance her checkbook instead. It's important to make sure that her balance never exceeds $2000 so that her care facility can continue to bill the state of California about $4000/month for her room (50 square feet with a hospital bed) and board (mostly food that doesn't fit the criteria of her very restricted diet since her 1953 colostomy operation). It's an arrangement that keeps Grandma off the street and maintains a comfortable standard of living for the managing staff of the Care Facility.

Some day we will all escape the tormenting illusion of this physical world, the hapless realm of fear and desire, the wasteland of spiritual bankruptcy and material greed, the either/or area of good vs. bad, right vs. wrong, eternity vs. time, and god vs. man. The day will come when we each returns the paradise of Eden that existes within everyone of us, when we discard the fruit of the tree of knowledge of opposites, and eat instead from the tree of life. When we discover that paradise is not a faraway place but an oasis that lies deep within, only then will we unlock the potential of eternal life and experience the rapture of infinity and divinity in the here and now.

All of which brings me, somewhat anti-climactically, to this week's Limerick:

Avalon
There’s a place somewhere north of Gonzales
With forests expansive and flawless
       And people who know
       What makes the trees grow
Up there they will offer me solace

May you all reach the island of angels and fairies, of peaches and pomegranates, of sweet nectars and invigorating elixirs, of unity and presence, wherever it may be. Open your hearts, now and forever, and see that your bowl of galactic granola never runs dry.

Labor Day Weekend

This one goes out to all the White Trash... welcome to Grover Beach!

The holiday's here not a moment too soon
I look out my window and what do I see?
Two thousand Hummers head straight for the dune
To leak motor oil right into the sea

Monster truck madness invades Grover Beach
They rinse their dune-buggies at evening high tide
With tow-trucks and 6 packs all within reach
Last week a toddler got run down and died

(In memory of the 4-year old child who was run over and killed by an off-road vehicle on the Oceano Dunes last weekend.)


Now here's something in a more cheerful, literary spirit — also for Labor Day:

Limerick #332 – H.P. Lovecraft (1890-1937)
Where the land of Cthulu existed
The creatures were horribly twisted
            And as mythos grew bigger
            Around this cult figure
The labor of Lovecraft persisted

Found Art Tuesday: Favorite

Lately the Granola Poet has been about as elusive as a two-tone green leprechaun hat in a box of Lucky Charms. I apologize, but there is a perfectly good explanation for my absence. Unfortunately, it's not a particularly poetic explanation, so let's move on...

I now and then crave a well-aged gorgonzola
Hand fed to me in my private gondola
            While a hand-cranked Victrola
            Plays a piece for viola
It's nearly as nice as a bowl o' granola

Tagged

It finally happened... I've been tagged. So eight random things about myself? Jeez, I didn't think anything about me was random. I thought it all had purpose. Ah, well.

1) I was born right smack in the middle of the sign of Cancer, so I'm a crab in every way. Moody, sensitive, emotional, domestic, motherly and unconventional. So I release my emotions in the form of Limericks - they're like my 350 little babies (and counting).

2) When I was a kid we raised California Desert Tortoises. Turtles are something like cancers — always carrying their homes on the backs — but not as crabby. And turtles hate to be flipped over, whereas I love being upside-down. It's a different perspective that's often more satisfying to my unconventional disposition. I like to walk around on my hands. I also enjoy headstands and powerful hallucinogens.

3) I grew up in Orange County in the 1980s, a time and place where Ronald Reagan was revered as a living god. No one can deny that he accomplished great things for the wealthy. Nothing could be a greater violation of the poetic principles. Except possibly his proliferation of WMD.

4) The 2 months I worked at Le Bastide Haute in Theizac, France was probably the greatest time of my life. I tended vegetables, shoveled horse manure, watched over chickens and rabbits, hunted mice, and made friends with an ass named Jocko (he had great ears for listening). I formed a close bond to the earth, drank copious amounts of wine, and made communion with Dionysus.

5) During a siesta at Le Bastide, I found an old copy of James Joyce's Ulysses, in English. I pulled it off the shelf and was intrigued by the introduction by Anthony Burgess. So I read it. I was confused. I had no internet or reference books of any kind, so I was very confused, and amazed. Five years later I re-read it along with a trove of explanatory books and essays. This was a far more rewarding experience. I was less confused, and more amazed.

6) As I said before, Cancers are domestic creatures. We take pride in our homes, we like cooking and gardening and mothering. I feel a very motherly connection to my home planet. She's Mother Earth, but sometimes she needs a little nurturing herself. My heart aches when I see her being ruthlessly raped by greedy men. Sometimes I worry that she's fallen in with the wrong crowd.

7) As I said before, turtles hate to be turned upside down but I like it. After 9-11 everybody said their world had be turned inside out or upside down. Mine seemed right side up for the first time. I had just spent 6 weeks tilling the earth in southern France. I had departed France about 3 days earlier. And a week later I would meet my future wife at youth hostel in Lubeck, Germany, the birthplace of Thomas Mann.

8) Before joining the Cult of Dionysus, I was really into numerology and 8 was my lucky number. My first name has 4 letters and the name I go by also has 4 letters. My last name has 8 letters and starts with the 8th letter of the alphabet. My bother's name has four letters and together we started a business with 8 letters. It's actually a compound word, formed by combining two 4-letter words. The name of the business also started with the 8th letter of the alphabet. The address of my branch of the business was 844 Monterey St. My new business is on the corner of 8th street, and it has 9 letters. The ninth letter of the alphabet is the second letter in the word "eight." What could this mean?

Free your mind

Come now, mash down babylon
Up and down the mountain
Wash away the wickedness
And purify the fountain

They're poisoning our very souls
And brainwashing the youth
They've hidden all the answers
And re-arranged the truth

Hungry eyes observe the Dow
It's highest point in years
While the fife and drum of Ares
Is ringing in my ears

A million martyrs stand in line
While shepherds speak of profits
Portfolios resurrected
Yet the death toll still skyrockets

The gold that briefly glitters
Is worth its weight in salt
While those inclined to seek it
Close their minds up like a vault

The golden promise broken
Yet many still revere it
They pray for nothing greater
And sell away their spirit

So breathe a little every day
And don' get left behind
Please obey the noble truths
Let Buddha free your mind

Found Art Tuesday: Jump

I've been struggling with Found Art Tuesday topics for the past 2 or 3 weeks. My apologies, but I keep getting distracted by this pesky vision quest of mine. Anyway, I thought the "jump" theme would allow me the opportunity to expound poetically on the notion of a Leap of Faith. But, as luck would have it, I'll be damned if I can find anything to rhyme with faith.
So here's what I came up with instead...

Conditions are cluttered by clouds of confusion
And pinheads proceed in prolific profusion
       So follow the masses
       Who fall on their asses
Come join the convention and jump to conclusions

James Joyce's Ulysses: the complete series

James Joyce’s ULYSSES, in 36 easily digestible Limericks
By The Granola Poet

“Ulysses”
There once was an artist called Stephen
With Homer he tried to get even
       So Bloom and he walk
       Around Dublin and talk
About all the things they believe in

Telemachus (episode 1)
The story begins in a tower
Where 8 o'clock is the hour
       Young Buck and Sir Haines
       Make light of his pains
But wait till he meets Mr. Flower

Telemachus #2
It starts with a portion of prose
From "Portrait" our character rose
       A maker of mazes
       His thoughts take us places
Like the Liffey his monologue flows

Telemachus #3 (Homeric)
There once was a young Telemachus
Whose father left him in a fracas
       To the war he objected
       But his name was selected
For an odyssey certain to shock us

Nestor (episode 2)
At 10 o’clock school is in session
It starts with a history lesson
       To the past Stephen reaches
       And languidly teaches
For his own past he must make confession

Nestor #2
At school young Stephen is teaching
And into the past he is reaching
       By his’try they’re bound
       To a king and his crown
And a Pope who’s incessantly preaching

Proteus (episode 3)
Introducing the Protean mind
Streaming with thoughts of all kind
       The king changes shapes
       As our hero escapes
On a quest for a woman who’s kind





Calypso (episode 4)
Calypso is leading a life of seduction
As Leopold seldom attempts reproduction
       Their home goes to Blazes
       While Bloom simply gazes
At maidens who gaily portend his destruction

Lotus Eaters #1 (episode 5)
In the bathtub he dwells on a lotus
A billet-doux from the pocket he showed us
       Her language so flirty
       Makes Flower feel dirty
Her roses he tries not to notice

Lotus Eaters #2
Naughty Miss Martha she beckoned
For Henry was lonely she reckoned
       But when she comes calling
       He can’t help from falling
Some thirty-two Bloom feet per second

Hades #1 (episode 6)
All Dublin has come out to pay their respects
A rite to which Leopold lightly objects
       In metempsychosis
       One life cycle closes
On dad’s misadventure L. Bloom he reflects

Hades #2
The gravediggers gather in lightsome lament
Poor Dignam on Guinness his last schilling spent
       But there’s no disgrace
       To die drunk on his face
While old mister Bloom has no chance to repent

Hades #3
In Hades his thoughts grew nightmarish
On the losses of loved ones we cherish
       Of Rudy’s young face
       And father’s disgrace
Each day umpteen thousand more perish

Aeolus (episode 7)
There’s a paper where men shoot the breeze
Blowing steam over Mad Cow’s Disease
       Home Rule is one topic
       On which they’re myopic
For our heroes have both lost their key(e)s

Lestrygonians (episode 8)
There was an old Hebrew in search of a bite
In the lunchroom he witnessed a sickening sight
       With the animals feeding
       He felt like excreting
But a sandwich he managed to eat with delight

Scylla & Charybdis (episode 9)
Somehow Stephen’s reasons seem so circumstantial
Prince Hamlet distracts him from problems financial
       In a sharp dialectic
       And a voice apoplectic
He maintains that the actors are all consubstantial

Scylla & Charybdis #2
There once was a passage so dangerously narrow
‘Tween white rocks of dogma and whirlwinds of Tarot
       The balance required
       Left Mulligan tired
But Stephen flew on with the grace of a sparrow

Wandering Rocks (episode 10)
Inverts and adverts and throwaway sheets
The minions meander through mazes and streets
       A priest on parade
       A state cavalcade
The double-edged spoon from which Ireland eats

Sirens (episode 11)
On a sea of sweet voices our mongrel is cast
To resist their temptation he’s tied to the mast
       By bronze and by gold
       Some stout pints are pulled
And later, like gas, a loose trollop is passed

Sirens #2
A hero hears voices out over the oceans
While sirens fill glasses with succulent potions
       His eardrum it pounds
       With sonorous sounds
And somewhere a street girl seductively motions

Cyclops (episode 12)
I once knew a man who was prone to eruption
Lashing about at the eye of destruction
       Exalting his land
       Libation in hand
Then blinded by no-man with no introduction

Nausicaa (episode 13)
O’er the sea sinks the sun with contrition
To be watching alone is the human condition
       Just a rock on the sand
       Honeymoon in the hand
Sewing seeds with no chance of fruition

Oxen of the Sun #1 (episode 14)
There once was an infant alone in the womb
As herds of debauchers all crowded the room
       By fluids enveloped
       Their bodies developed
And alone once again they head straight for the tomb

Oxen of the Sun #2
There was a commotion in yon House of Horne
By three days of labor a mother was torn
       While gentlemen waiting
       Delivered words so degrading
The god-possibled soul of a new boy was born

Circe #1 (episode 15)
A vision at midnight by magic affected
But Bloom’s black potato is bound to correct it
       Like a morsel of moly
       To reverse the unholy
The remedy found where you least would expect it

Circe #3
Our pig-headed heroes wind up at Miss Bello’s
One of the district’s most fetching bordellos
       Where spirits might render
       Delusions of splendor
Finally conjoining these two wayward fellows

Circe #4
Stubbornly Stephen’s extending his nerve
“Non Serviam” he will duly observe
       While Bloom takes a bow
       Like a suckling sow
The artist announces that he will not serve

Circe #5 (in iambic meter)
From darkness mother steps in sight
Doomed for term to walk the night
       Behold her head
       All beastly dead
Will Stephen make what’s rotten right?

Eumaeus #1 (episode 16)
In the wee early hours their congress occurs
Perfectly sober Bloom sorely infers
       That Stephen’s been euchered
       Forsaken and suckered
And therefore he (Bloom) at this treason demurs

Eumaeus #2
A wayfaring vessel returns to drop anchor
Pretenders and thieves are regarded with rancor
       At home there’s a rift
       After ages adrift
A respectable sailor would rightfully spank her

Eumaeus #3
A salesman returns where he one-time resided
Where upon he discovers his house is divided
       An adventure through town
       Brought him all the way round
Till father and son are at long last united

Ithaca #1 (episode 17)
How shall this hero extinguish his passion?
With questions all posed in fastidious fashion.
       Then where does he head?
       But straight for the bed
Right back to the womb and the voice of compassion.

Ithaca #2
What is the point of this painful narration?
To slaughter the suitors in examination.
       And what about miss Marion?
       Bloom answers her clarion
Bracing himself for a keen remonstration.

Penelope #1 (episode 18)
By 2 in the morning room seven’s a mess
Molly has just seen poor Poldy undress
       By bawdy suggestion
       She answers the question
Announcing resoundingly certainly Yes

Penelope #2
They’re fleshing it out at their Eccles address
Erupting with feelings she needs to express
       She wonders half sleeping
       Is Poldy worth keeping?
And answers in estrous emphatically Yes


“Finnegans Wake”
James Joyce was an exile in France
Where the Earwicks held him in a trance
       Lost in his thoughts
       With a stream of bon mots
But none of it makes any sense

A reaction to current events

"Scooter Libby (and the Power of Clemency)"
There's a tacit political precedent
Under oath you had better be reticent
       For to perjure's a crime
       Which means doing time
Unless you're protecting the President

Reflections on the middle way

"Namaste"
Take in thy hand your sceptre and rod
Each of us here is perfectly flawed
       Respect the divine
       In your soul and mine
For none but a god can worship a god

"Ariadne's Thread"
The virtuous path may be shrouded in haze
The ego misleads you in so many ways
       But the simplest thing
       Like a bundle of string
Is all the you need to escape from the maze

"Eden"
Back in the garden, before man took a bite
Before any knowledge of wrong or of right
       All branching from one
       We basked in the sun
But now we're condemned to the darkness of night

"Good and Evil"
All things on earth must receive affirmation
Evil and good are beyond separation
       Let them all run their course
       For we share the same source
Who died and said you could question Creation?

Found Art Tuesday: Present

The past and the future are one and the same
To believe otherwise is a short-sighted game
       Outside of uncertainty
       Right now is eternity
The light of a pure and perpetual flame