Penitentiary (Poem )

http://drewlesso.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=15&Itemid=43


I'm the vindictive, ruthless,
an eye for an eye,
the counter stroke, last-ditch,
the never-say-die.
I am heartless, ferocious,
grossly inhumane,
fiendishly satanic,
a low-down dirty shame.

I'm loathsome, ill-natured,
repulsively vile,
arrogance, treachery,
abuse is my style.

My name is Penitentiary,
I'm made of steel and stones,
and should you land in my domain,
I'll crack your flesh and bones.

You're not as tough as you believe,
When without a knife or gun,
I'll have your ass before you blink,
Providing I want fun.
I've myriad ways of handling you,
That's if you like it rough;
Ways to hurt and break a man,
I haven't found enough.
Push me punk and be doomed,
I know you can not win,
I've been around for quite sometime,
And since the spawn of sin,
I've held the toughest thugs there are,
Behind my cold, gray stalls,
Watched them risk their fruitless lives,
Trying to scale my walls.
Some were killed and few escaped,
later to return
For crimes far worse than before
And then I watched them burn.

My name is Penitentiary,
Let me come straight from the cuff,
I'll crack your head - rip out your heart,
I pray you call my bluff.
You flapped your huge illicit wings
Betwixt the grip of law
Until you made that one mistake
That clutched you in its claw.
You preyed upon the weak and old
And made them fear you, true,
Well, listen faggot, bitch take note,
The tables are turned on you.
I'm in command, I hold the cards
And call the dos and don'ts,
Create the dreams and feed the hopes
Of all your needs and wants.

Now, should you thirst for freedom's fire,
I'll light your smouldering wick,
Supply the gas and provide the flint
It will take to light your Bic!

The Love Master ( Poem )

http://drewlesso.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=42&Itemid=43

You became disenchanted with wanting Valentinoes,
A prolong trek to this journey's end,
Now that you've come, I welcome you,
to cast aside fear and shame,
for I am he, the Love Master,
Viceroy of Joy, Prince of Pleasure,
Jealous Othello, wise Solomon,
Or any name you choose to select
from the repertoire of love.
Did you think I would look different,
Indeed a glittering diamond crown,
A velvet fez, a mystic turban,
Placed aesthetically on my head.
Did you think I would have a robe,
Embroidered with fine threads of gold,
A wizard's wand, a black-faced ring,
And a hocus-pocus stare.
I do not have costly diamond rings
On my smoke-stained calloused hands;
Earrings studded in my ears
As with Gypsy vagabonds ...

One of Those Days ( Poetry )

It was just one of those days,
All I wanted to do after waking up
was return back to bed;
I wanted to disconnect
the answering machine,
take the phone off the hook;
then sigh in relief...
It was just one of those days.

Though daylight peeked through
the closed blinds
and bird chirped conversationally
outside my window,
I trudged across the naked floor
to the bathroom,
flipped the light switch up, lit a cigarette
and engaged the toilet.

Afterwards, it was a cup of coffee,
a wheat muffin - another cigarette;
then a return to the bathroom to wash my face,
brush my teeth. Yeah,
It was just one of those days.

Atlas Shrugged

With the help of John Henry and Paul Bunyan,
A collective coalition of multi-tiered people:
black, white, brown, red and yellow people;
employed, unemployed, rich, poor people,
professional, unprofessional, retired people,
young, old, able, disabled people,
homeless, destitute, disenfranchised people,
Hindu, Jew, Muslim, Christian
Buddhist, atheist and agnostic,
gay and straight people
from red, blue and gray states,
with and without their significant others,
fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers,
democrat, independent, libertarian
progressive, conservative, republican,
old-time and first-time voters,
decided by the score not to take it any more.
Cho-cho, all aboard
People arrived in chartered buses,
limos, bikes, motorcycles, cabs and trains
to line streets of polling places:
school auditoriums and gymnasiums
convention halls and churches -
to roll the world towards Obama's shoulders -
the focused destination.

And when the word came forth from
Media Olympus that victory was assured,
Tears of joy, relief and happiness
streamed from teary eyes down creased cheeks,
mixed into oceans and baptismal rain,
flooded waterholes and dried-up creeks.
Together, tirelessly, throngs of humanity,
ushered out insanity, cronyism and banality;
made a declaration, addressed a national catastrophe,
and with coordinated effort accompanied by
exert grunts punctuated with heave-ho,
pulled, dragged, pushed and rolled
the world - inch by inch, foot by foot, yard by yard
towards the waiting shoulders.

As he squatted, back-arched, crouched, wrenching
beneath the burdensome, unyielding load
shoved upon his massive shoulders -
swayed back and forth,
a balanced act on a tightrope suspended in midair,
Teetered. Positioned the globe -
knees, like bamboo shoots, straightened - and
Atlas shrugged as wars
raged in the deserts of Iraq;
in the mountains of Afghanistan,
along the borders of Pakistan,
turmoil in Iran, genocide in Sudan,
children soldiers in the Congo
bombs exploded in Hindustan -
Ishmael versus Israel -
a world in an economic meltdown, tail-spin,
bailouts, buyouts, layoffs -
Skepticism, pessimism, optimism,
people reviving a bygone romanticism,
prey to mass hypnotism,
darkness removing Light pollution,
a push from Bush to Cush to end stagnation,
reclaim the promise of a mighty nation,

Obama shrugged.

To Merilene M. Murphey (3/20/55)-(02/02/07)

http://www.kintespace.com/swf_video/iframe.php?doc=http://www.youtube.com/v/PRh8H1d1Ovs&bgColor=c7c7c7

In the absence of your sunshine,
the sundial has lost it's shadow;
the tick-tock of the clock has stopped,
the pendulum is still.
Farewell, Merilene, farewell.

The minute quantity of sand,
held captive in the hourglass,
has ceased it's hourly circuit -
no longer does it run.
Farewell, Merilene, Farewell.

The sole index of the sundial,
the triplicitous hand of Time,
the aperture of the hourglass
will miss your yearly voyage.
Farewell, My love, farewell.

Mongorama

I think, therefore I am, Dr. Mongo,
look for me in cracks and crevices,
miniature atomic sparks
traversing energetic enigmas,
look for me in dark canyons, caves, catacombs
and chasms. I thrive in volcanic sputum,
dank dungeons, cyclones, faults, seismic seizures
and concealed vaults.

I am Nature's patient therapist. Bring me neurotics,
psychotics, schizoids, catatonics, hebephrenics,
and I will explore the ambiguities
woven in synaptic networks,
quilt-spin the mish-mash of polarized intellect,
weld pinched circuits, compress muscular depression,
energise sensory atrophy.

I am Dr. Mongo, wasting
no time on regrets, pursuing cherished ideals - yet,
look for me in gutters, sewers, alleys -
gullies and ravines.
I am the counter stroke, last-ditch, do-or-die,
the never-say-die and the Promise.
Look for me on auction blocks, reservations,
concentration camps, internment camps,
and smuggler's ships, conspiring with Kenyatta,
Geronimo, Rosenberg, and stolen ibejis.

I am minerals, fertilizer, the human wave,
fallen amid defunct weaponry -
once grandiose, personal property,
technological toys, encyclopedic packages
of death and destruction.

Bring me the lame, abused, misused
and I will administer an expanse of
compassionate healing.
I am Dr. Mongo,
Look for me in laughter, uninhibited giggles,
alluring smiles, baptised in the blush of shyness.
Take the tears of my sadness,
place them in teacups and vials,
and reveal past and future.

Bring me nymphs and satyrs,
frolicking in bacchanalian reveries,
and I will juxtapose carnal thrills
and spiritual rapture.
I am Dr. Mongo - a pedigree, thoroughbred,
blue blood, true blue, pilgrim, pathfinder,
the upper tier.
I am April Showers, Autumn's prisms,
unobtrusive snowflakes and lillies of the field.
Heed my music - join me in dance,
Watch as I slam-dunk, break tackles, score goals
and blast home runs.

Find me resting contentedly
in the warm protective enclosures
of huts, igloos, tepees, plantations,
forts and presidential mansions.

I tread trails, pathways, highways, railways, airways,
on foot, bikes, trains, canoes
and space shuttles.
I am fossilized institutions, museums
of delicate tapestry, mausoleums of chiseled art,
the antiseptic odor of ancient tombs
and the morgue.

Find me embodied in weights and measurements,
the width and breadth of America,
because I am America,
the black, red, yellow, brown and white humanity,
scrimmaging with noble roles and truth
and the rummaged lies marketed
in propagandized contradiction.

I am the Delta, Ozarks, Appalachia,
D.O.A in the USA,
but revived in her rags to riches saga.
Look for me in Sleepy Hollow,
Find me in Dogpatch;
I am Al Capp's handsome man with bulging muscles;
his full-bosomed women.
Mandrake, the magician is my partner,
Mutt and Jeff my friends,
Blondie and Dagwood my neighbors,
Lady Godiva my muse.
I am Tiny Tim, leaving crutch-marks in the snow;
Tiny Tim, tiptoeing through the tulips.
I am Dr. Mongo, existing in the immortality
of the Godhead - a portion of all existence:
liquids, solids, gasses and the void.

Bring me the ostracized, dehumanized, disenfranchised,
because my institutions are vast juggernauts,
christening hope, trampling injustice and ignorance.
I am the eye, mouth, ear universal,
since times immemorial,
seeing, speaking, hearing no evil.
I am astrologer, astronomer, Argonaut, astronaut -
look for me on the high seas and in deep space.

Greet me in Lhasa, Mecca, Jerusalem -
Find me in Shangri-la, Valhalla and the Dreamtime.
Map my movements along circuits crisscrossing
up towns, down towns, outbounds, inbounds
and the outback.
Look for me in shantytowns, ghettos, barrios
and skid row as I stand in bread and soup lines,
huddled with the downtrodden, homeless.

But above all - look and find me within you...

Variation on the 23rd Psalm

The Lord is my provider,
He supplies all my needs,
He makes me to lie down
in sterile surroundings;
He guides me pass raging waters,
He restores my health when I am ill.
He leads me from paths of temptation
for His name's sake.

Even though I walk
down the mean streets of uncertainty and death,
I will fear no evil. Your protective Hand
comforts me.

You prepare a table before me
in the company of my adversaries,
You anoint my head with oil,
My cornucopia runs over.
Surely, Your goodness and mercy
will be with me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the heart
of the Lord forever. Amen

Hate

Harbinger of ill-will and displaced anger
Aberrant bitterness coupled with rancor,
Truant morality and ungodliness,
Enveloped in vindictiveness.

Harborer of spiteful revenge,
Attitudinally unhinged,
Treacherous thoughts, unbalanced insight,
Exhausted logic cusping mental blight.

Handicapped-hearted, mean-spirited,
Affected with values darkly corrupted,
Temperamentally explosive,
Extremely damaging and corrosive.

Hate is a destructive human element,
A cumbersome burden - self-punishment,
Tantamount to masochism
Entwined in dire submission.

Paradoxtrix 1.

From the first time that I met her,
I figured from her style,
that she was born and bred
in a furnace of the wild,
a troubled but healthy spirit,
fashioned in the image of a child,
a fledgling sort of entity,
with an orchestrated smile.

Her face bespoke the zodiac,
twelve signs in conjunction,
components of the elements
in fierce competition,
a galaxy unto herself -
and dare I to mention,
a goddess of sheer pulchritude,
demanding strict attention.

Her hair was flaming balls of fire,
cascading down her shoulders,
the movement of her bedroom eyes,
were horizontal shutters,
though her head was held majestically high,
her feet were mired in gutters,
depression and low self-esteem,
were the weight of massive boulders.

The Pessimist

Don't be fooled by what appears to be real,
As far as I'm concerned everything is rigged,
Believe it or not sports are rigged:
Football, baseball, basketball is rigged,
Hockey, wrestling, boxing is rigged,
Auto racing, horse racing, cycling is rigged,
Everything, everything, everything is rigged.

History, philosophy, psychiatry is rigged
Astronomy, archaeology, technology is rigged,
Religion, education, genealogies are rigged.
Everything, everything, everything is rigged.

Nothing is worse than being a victim of a fix,
Especially when you think you're a partner in the mix.
Some people believe myths and fairy tales are real,
Accounts of Sleeping Beauty and Jack and Jill,
Sisyphus rolling a stone up a hill,
And what do you know about Buffalo Bill,
The number of bison he claimed to have killed?


Stocks, bonds and investments are rigged,
Donations, charities and taxes are rigged,
Vital statistics are rigged,
Birth and death certificates are rigged,
Weights and measurements are rigged;
You can contest global warming
And put lipstick on a pig,
But as far as I'm concerned everything is rigged.

The roll of the dice, the cards that are dealt,
Gambling and lotteries are rigged.
Commercials, promotions, awards are rigged.
Fashion shows, talk radio,
Beauty pageants, late night shows,
No-shows and dog shows,
Regardless of the type of gig
Everything, everything, everything is rigged.
Commissions and amendments are rigged,
The American Dream is rigged,
American Idol is rigged.

Nothing is the way it seems,
When let loose at the seams
Like nightmares opting peaceful dreams,
Mud holes overpowered by streams,
Everything, everything, everything is rigged.
Governments, politics, juries and justice is rigged.

Perhaps, I'm sounding like a cynical hack,
But consider Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac,
Afghanistan, Pakistan and Iraq,
AIG and Wall Street fat cats.
Diseases and cures are rigged.
Miracles are rigged.

I'm merely stating what I feel is true,
It's not about me and it's not about you -
It's about the "Systems" and what they do,
Disguising themselves with different color wigs,
Yeah, everything, everything, everything is rigged.