All posts by Diane Warth

One more should do it…

Gnosscius

You and I were lovers before the freeze,

and the making of it occupied our fears.

You needed my therapy,

I wanted you to need.

I didn’t know beyond the jasmine,

where the monkeys dwelled and lizards flew,

far past the grottos and the caves that held the artifacts of our emotions,

there would be a war zone.

I would come to know,

that blue eyes could flash burn to ash,

in the smoking grey seconds of remembering the past,

beyond the lush, green tropics,

in the sweltering heat,

along primevial forests and pristine beaches,

where transparent ocean waters turn blood red,

and you could never stand down.

©dmw

Married [A Marine] In The Haight

memorial day came and went
again this year
shedding little plastic flags

and hot dog bun wrappers
step children dropping
by glum civil servants

some slick d.c. stone
reflecting light nicely
your name still not on it

they will never tag a soul

agent orange
budget cuts
hills consume the young

off you went

any second
without notice
you couldn’t help it

good soldier you

hobo brides know
wedding gowns and box cars clash
like alchemy and love

and you hit the park fast
clutch the white port tighter
refuse to share the medicine

i brought bread for the pigeons
you chased the lazy bums away
insisted we honor institutions with lies if necessary

that was the drill and how they honored you

©dmw

I’ll Take The Fifth

For some reason when ‘independence’ day rolled around these last two years I felt the urge to write something about them. Probably will again this year….

I’ll Take The Fifth-Part One-2001

do you think edgar’s G-men
ceased and desisted
on the fourth of july?

unfolded a lawn chair
a blanket for the young ones

content to observe the fireworks display
NoT
construe
an impending seige
theory of conspiracy

“do you suppose you could ask edgar’s boys
to stop stepping on my heels?” john steinbeck
wrote. “it’s getting tiresome.”

his telephony teeming with bugs
IN
the land of the brave, home
of the free.

g-men relaxing
when the conversations
were static-free

AmeRiCA
our country tis of thee
with the most capitalist of gains
and oiliest futures.

there is no one
can kick it like
YoU

in one
silent threat
of bloodshed unbondable

DoN’T
tell me
there’s liberty and
sure as hell ain’t
justice
Y’ALL

amen

dmw

*** *** ***

I’ll Take The Fifth-Part Two-2002

amid seasoned plans of color to burst
reds, whites and blues
sans traditional bliss
come crackles, transmissions
maybe yes, maybe no
orange is the color to behold

if edgar could only see us now
he’d flit about like a speckled cow
AmERIca OH
OH you do do me proud!
can you hear his laughter
as it breaks through your door…..

SAY do you think
in some Afghan village
undercover of darkness
from their bomb-lit predicament
they are thankful to be your collateral foil
scores of damaged unfortunates
in the way of your oil
CAN you celebrate freedom
pretend death is not yours can

YOU SEE!!!!

BY THE DAWN’S EARLY LIGHT…

where the bones lie scattered
and hearts
fertilise crops….

the bombs bursting in air!
you traded freedom for cops.

dmw

Bad Poetry Redux

Well if you’re visiting you might notice I’m attempting to build some link lists and encountering a few unresolved issues.

So in the hopes of determining whether the lists are shifting to left because the entry content on the left is practically non-existent, I’ll be posting up some of my ‘poetry’.

Please don’t think I actually consider this poetry in the best or even any sense of the word.

I am no poet. I refer to these particular brain farts as such for lack of better description and I’m too sentimental to actually title the entries ‘farts’ which of course they are.