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


Bag Dads and Bag Ladies



Bag Dads and Bag Ladies



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”








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






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.





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