Upon Hearing a Choral Performance at an Episcopal Church

 

 

 

UPON HEARING A CHORAL PERFORMANCE AT AN EPISCOPAL CHURCH

 

I am Episcopalian

The Queen of the Cotillion

I think I am Chuchillian

I’m Drenched in gold bullion

 

I’m old money, of course

We sorts nobly discourse

On the stigma and source

Of the Jewish remorse

 

Why can’t they aspire

To sing in the choir

Till the day they expire

Will they continue to sire

 

Unwashed swarthy hordes

Fail to sound our high chords

Do not curtsy to our lords

Awaiting Heaven’s rewards

 

For speech Christian and clipped

Like buttocks quivering and whipped

Measured, mannered – dead as a crypt

Like old German gothic script

 

Speaking of penmanship, ours is fine

Elegant, stately and feline

Our ideation’s asinine

But stylistically we’re sublime

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 1998

Advertisements

Bag Dads and Bag Ladies

 

 

Bag Dads and Bag Ladies

 

Baghdad

Bag Lady

In a crowd

In a shroud

Rather Loud

Shouting Jihad

 

Bush and Blair

Fighting fair

As they bare

A Mushroom scare

 

God is Holy

The One and Only

Austere and Stony

A Desert lonely

 

The world will die

The world will die

The world will die

The world will die

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2002


My Angry Poetry

 

 

My Angry Poetry

 

Pardon me if I reject a poetic norm

Appear didactic, not too warm

My interest is my brainy storm

Not a sweet aesthetic form

 

Oh I’ll give you meters rhymed

But my quatrains are assigned

To espouse ideas divined

To this purpose I’m consigned

 

An exposition rather rude

Follow the root; look at the nude

Over the beastly I will brood

Do you have the fortitude

 

Or will you simply turn away

Pretend you’re on some holiday

Subsist on art that will not bray

As meek as children’s harmless play

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2000


Inspired by Eisenstein’s “Alexander Nevsky”

 

 

INSPIRED BY EISENSTEIN’S “ALEXANDER NEVSKY”

by

DAVID GOTTFRIED 

 

 

Teutonic knight

Titanic night

The Christian Right

Sings “Silent Night”

 

In Gilded Courts

Guilty cohorts

Those feral sorts

Plan their blood sports

 

For Jesus Christ

A bible heist

We Jews are sliced

We’re minced and diced

 

The Yellow Stars

The Babi Yars

Kill Caesars, Czars!

The Germans, Mars!

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 1997


Smoke My Herb

 

 

 

When I was young all I had to do was smoke a joint and listen to

“I am the Walrus”

And a poem came out the other end

 

Four quatrains of quartz

The rhymes were hard as rock

It was tight and mean and manly

The Word before the Cock

 

And don’t let anyone ever tell you that drugs are bad for you

They’re worth the risk, Man

They’re worth the risk of ten thousand boys and girls jumping off bridges

Because millions of boys and girls find god

 

They find god when

 

A straight guy and a gay guy

Will kiss each other, on the cheek

And know that they’re just great friends

 

They’ll  find god when

 

He says hello

And she says goodbye
And they smoke herb

And now she always says hi

 

This is mundane

This is jibberish

This is pitifully pedestrian

 

But it’s groooooovy man

Yeah it’s got the elan

To make you kill the Klan

And free the guys in the can

 

And I say yeah man

I speed on the autoban

Say Shima in Pakistan

Say Allah where they eat ham

 

And I say do it man

Throw your stuff in a moving van

Have sex while you get a tan

Forced entry is the best plan

 

And I say goo goo ga jube

Goo goo ga jube

Up the Ass without lube

Be sexy sans attitude

 

This is bequeathed by marijuana

For the brain it’s pure manna

For poets a new stanza

For a painter the pieta

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2012


Death Drawing Near

 

 

 

DEATH DRAWING NEAR

 

When your throat is parched and crumpled and there’s nothing left to say

When the words you’ve uttered whither and finally fade away

When the prospect of oblivion seems like a holiday

When you wish and wait for winter, life’s a sad stowaway

 

When there’s nothing left to savor, enjoy or survey

When the promenades of Paris seem as common as Calais

When you won’t even eat food made by Escoffier

When you’ll simply shut your eyes at life’s garish gauche display

 

When the stars seem to glare in contemptuous array

When a merest dog’s yelp seems an angry beast’s bray

When your ears are like glass that will shatter and splay

At an operatic aria searing like a communique

 

When you’re even spent of anger and don’t care to inveigh

When the limbs ache, grow feeble, and the muscles all decay

The casket and the hearse you will beckon, not delay

You lie down and greet death with a sweet and bright bouquet

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2007


Two Poems

 

 

 

What follows are 2 poems pertaining to homosexuality.  The first poem presents a very bleak view of the whole affair.  The second poem, Ode to Brokeback Mountain, is its antithesis as its view of homosexuality is passionately positive.  I already posted Brokeback Mountain on this site, but I am posting it again lest people infer, from the first poem, that I am homophobic.

 

Praying at the Gay Bar

 

Praying at the gay bar

Debasing at the gay bar

Giving unto Apollo life and balls

The drug induced stupor enthralls

 

Waiting at the gay bar

No one comes at the gay bar

The men are groaning in the bathroom stalls

Their pricks are shit-encased, a rat crawls

 

Aging at the gay bar

Learning to die at the gay bar

You have a name no one at all recalls

All alone enthroned in granite walls

 

Ending at the gay bar

Surrendering at the gay bar

The very thought of joy galls

The sun’s light pains and mauls.

 

 

AN ODE TO “BROKEBACKMOUNTAIN”

by

David Gottfried

 

 

Is my mind shuttered

Hopelessly corrupted

Religiously cluttered

 

With lies, alibis

Am I asinine

(Do I dare to eat that peach)

 

But do I derive

Something alive

Manna to thrive

From a beautiful song and the man singing the words

 

Herds of sheep on BrokebackMountain

I hear the lines, “Oh captain, My captain”

I hail, I hallow, that brotherly bastion

That tent in the woods, my Mecca, my mansion

 

I love that man, I love his eyes

No drug will anesthetize

Nor sublimation ever disguise

My stabbing aches and pleading cries

 

Storm the dungeon of my heart

The relentless melody of the tart

The irony, like a rampart

Against what love can impart

 

Put down the quill, enjoy the thrill

Don’t espy it from a windowsill

A warm chest for winter’s chill

And burn taboos on a grill

 

The fire’s down, the embers gleam

Cold air blows in a steady stream

The warmest arms embrace, redeem

The manly force of love supreme

 

Although his steps were soft and slaked

The boots on his feet were muddy and caked

It seemed as though the earth had quaked

Our hard embrace could not be braked

 

Touch those jeans and feel the heat

The weight, the heft, the sinuous fit

Stand erect and beam conceit

Relish strength and true grit

 

Touch striations of muscled love

The rump pale like the white of a dove

Pulsing vibrations of penile shove

The aperture fitting as sweet as a glove

 

The howling night, the dusty shrub

The mean and common monotonous grub

Those grunting gasps you’ll never dub

The seed, the stain, you’ll never scrub

 

Whisker to whisker, hear him whisper

Savor the breath with the force of a twister

To be each other’s sovereign brother

A bulwark, a brace, against disaster

 

The seasons stark, the natural reign

The real intention spoken plain

Shouting at the world’s disdain

Growling softly in my brain

 

His voice so soft to me resounds

The strength, the sweet, so fused, astounds

On all the playing fields and grounds

His memory overtakes, surrounds

 

But coyotes and jackals intervene

Braying, heaving, reeking spleen

Cleaving to their means obscene

Their Jesus real as plasticene

 

The prohibition that always detains

The prosecution that always arraigns

That never, ever, ascertains

The loneliness lodged in our brains

 

Now soil’s moist, the dew like tears

They once rejoiced, so many years

Their flag was hoist, but disappears

Their love was voiced, but doused by fears

 

So do not dare to stifle and bridle

And make me lonely and so suicidal

Bereft of the force virile and vital.

Silence and Bury that bible recital

 

That cowboy, that manboy, that man of no means

Exposes Pharisees as Philistines

His beauty and balls, staunch evergreens

Surpassing the straight, perverted and mean

 

I want to laugh, I want to smash

Barriers and bullshit and doctors’ cant

I must, I will, I shall do it now

Redeeming acts my steely vow.

 

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2005