Ode to the British Invasion



Ode to the British Invasion


Savor the succulence of Strawberry Fields

The sweetest of the sentiments blooms and builds

The guitar has powers that it wantonly wields

Brothers in their bands are new-age guilds


The clarion call of London lassoed all America

Every beachhead of sands of silica

The tidal waves of sounds blasted the ephemera

Of John Wayne and GI Joe blundering chimera


When Jagger and Jones made swords of songs

That sliced and slew the wars and all their wrongs

Their anthems were banners that always belongs

The bombast and beauty it pulses, prolongs


Lennon and McCartney were the angels of life

Nursing and subverting, making student strife

And every sweet girl wanted to be their wife

And for them I’m my brothers’ true blue knife


They spread a scarlet stain of Ruby and her Tuesdays

Made us roam in routes of uncharted pathways

Against the crass and the coarse it nobly inveighs

It brightens all the drabness of the flannels and grays


The hair was long, the hips humped and thrusted

The Beat was something you adored and trusted

You smoked the herb and were bullied and busted

Your beaten body had the consistency of custard


But Street Fighting Man comes to the rescue

Revolutions rise and devour anew

The Kings and the Cops won’t have a clue

And another invasion is long overdue


Copyright, David Gottfried, 2013



Poetry and AIDS-related Dementia



Poetry and AIDS-related Dementia


AIDS and crystal have fucked my brain

Harder than a man insane

My intellect did wither and wane

My words are greeted with disdain


The poems once came to me in dreams

They wandered-up my pants’ inseams

Or came from clouds of lightest creams

Such gushing, rushing cerebral streams


And I was made of Arrogance

That always dared to take a chance

Assume the heroic stance

But did I ever really advance


This life’s a ball of puss to lance

Take me out of my morbid trance

Rid my mind of castrating can’ts

Proceed without a passing glance

Copyright, David Gottfried, 2013


Jewish Food



The women are cooking tsimmis and borscht and chicken soup

Everything simmers over burners

Of gas

The fluids are reduced

The Yiddish is refined

To a pure German core

And the grease at the bottom of the pan

The organic essence of the chicken fat

(Carbon rings, lording it over oxygen and hydrogen atoms, just a couple of reactions away from the hydrogen cyanide of the camps)

Is Indistinguishable from



Copyright, David Gottfried, 2003


The Gnashing of the Brain Stem



Even my e mails are poetry

Electrical fillips that tingle the brain

And you will never ascertain

The leonine logic of my disdain


There is in every heart a stain

Of blood so blue its freezing cold

You know the story it’s been told

How sadness, evil, grows enfolds


The mediocre people polled

The mendacity, prized, enthroned

The wisest men pilloried, stoned

The sages true quietly groaned


The last line’s trite you telephoned

The sad descent of this a poem

Not premeditated, phlegm

But visceral pangs from my brain stem


Copyright, David Gottfried, 2013


Ode to the Mind



To cerebrate, to ideate, to while away the hours

To reduce and deduce the flotsam into gems

To irradiate and penetrate with cognitive powers

Marching forward from ape-ish brain stems


To conjure, connote to fabricate a fashion

Of flowers, of parasols, of lanes of pennied plenty

To transform delusion into righteous reason

And make stale reason patent heresy


To twist, to torture, every twig of facts

To make a dead leaf ripple like the sea

To take separate branches and weld them into pacts

And build and burnish the most majestic tree


Metaphors are Petit fours the mind loves to eat

Sugary sensations that makes the dull retreat

To turn A to B is the elemental passion

So furious, so foul, my nuclear fission


Copyright, David Gottfried, 2013

Read my Prose


When will someone read my prose

More succulent than the English rose

All they read is my poetry

Scribblings of obscurity


When will someone heal my woes

A ghoulish thing that hatefully glows

The anode and cathode of my battery

Are rusted and weary and I cease to be


This verse approaches daily new lows

Debauchered as a man in pantyhose

When I rhyme, the meter is wee

When I’m rhythmic, rhyme has no glee


So open your mind and just enclose

My essays where the north wind blows

And sweeps aside the fallacy

And phantoms and fools of calumny


What will I relate, disclose

When will mountains be meadows

What truth torn to heresy

What lie will rise to verity


I will write and I won’t pose

I’ll shout my sermon in bellicose blows

With tenacity and temerity

I stalk the gang plank to mortality


Copyright, David Gottfried, 2013

America Is Afflicted With Neurotic Displacement

America Suffers From Neurotic Displacement


Our political discourse is afflicted with a disease that generally effects people.  The disease has been called neurotic displacement, displaced pain and sometimes just plain displacement.   Before I can explain how this country has succumbed to this malady, I think it makes sense to first describe this ailment in individuals. .

The disease is present in both medicine and psychiatry.  In bodily disease, this condition manifests itself when Organ A will hurt even though Organ B is really the organ suffering from organic disease. In psychopathology, a patient may complain about his inability to score over 95 in Spanish when in fact he really is plagued by the trauma of a loved one’s recent death.   The rationale for this condition seems to be that since it would be too painful for the diseased organ to feel the full brunt of the pain, the pain is shifted or displaced to another organ.  Sometimes it is described as something that arises because a person simply could not bear to face the truth of what is bothering him and so establishes fictions to distract him from realities he cannot endure.


Certain cases of appendicitis offer a dramatic example of this process.     Although the appendix is in the lower right quadrant of the abdomen, sometimes a patient’s pain is displaced to regions of the abdomen far from the appendix.  Tens of thousands of Americans die each year from appendicitis that was mistakenly brushed–off as gastritis.  (The moral of the story:  When a patient suffers acute abdominal pain, the abdomen must be palpated.)  In psychiatry, the condition presents itself in truly remarkable ways.  In hysterical blindness (The patient genuinely cannot see but we can detect no defects in the eye or optic nerve), the patient expresses only scant concern for her failure to see and will profess to be very much upset about relatively picayune affairs.


This phenomenon is very much evident in the nation’s political discourse, particularly as it exists on television.  The titans of the television news media, CBS, NBC,  ABC, CNN, spend a truly inordinate amount of time talking about things that are, relative to what is really important, infantile drivel.  We hear about all sorts of stupid, silly stars getting into stupid silly scrapes over drugs, significant others and the police.  This nation decided it would have a national nervous breakdown when a young intern with a loud and brazen beret had oral sex with the President.  When a boy named Elian Gonzalez was brought to the country, and his Cuban Father wanted him returned to Cuba, large portions of the country seemed ready to go through the cold war all over again.  Very recently, a ferry collided against a pier in Lower Manhattan.  No one was killed.   I have been told that for the next five hours, New York One (which broadcasts television news in New York City) and CNN spent in excess of ninety percent of their coverage on the ferry accident.


Of course, such inane news programming might make sense if we lived in some Eden-like Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood where nasty things are a rare occurrence.  But that is not where we live.  Sometimes I think a Hades on earth is more like it.


Now there is no mathematical formula that one can devise to guide us in allotting news time to various subjects.  This is all terribly subjective, and a host of factors, other than the importance of the story, will dictate what the news will consist of.  But the bottom line is undeniable:  The most important stories are hardly given more than a passing glance.


I can think of so many sheer and utter scandals, large and small, that are hardly touched upon.  The American War in Afghanistan is now in its 12th year, and most of the American people are blithely and happily oblivious to the carnage —  it is no wonder when the media is busily attending to such earth-shattering matters as Paris Hilton’s petty, narcissitic heart (I must concede that I know nothing about that woman)  In the United States, banks have evicted millions of people from their homes through fraud and chicanery while the media concentrates on the lovely homes inhabited by the mental midgets on Real Housewives from Atlanta.


Medicine is one of my obssesions, and the media’s coverage of medicine is truly horrendous.  Consider this story which, to my knowledge, got no attention on the evening news:  In America, two of the most promising drugs for non hodgkin’s lymphoma, Zevalon and Bexxar, were not being used because of insufficient demand. (The New York Times, July 14, 2007.)  Of course there were plenty of dying people who needed these drugs, but the evils (I don’t think that’s too primitive or strong a word) of the marketplace condemned them to disuse. Why?  These drugs were radioactive and could only be administered in hospitals.  However, most doctors don’t have their offices in hospitals and so cannot dispense these drugs.  However, doctors love to administer drugs in their offices because they are reimbursed at a fantastic rate when their nurses stick a needle in a patient in the doctor’s office  (About five hundred dollar for a three-hour infusion.) According to the New York Times, most patients were getting inferior drugs which could be administered in a doctor’s private office to boost a doctor’s earnings – and while the doctors got richer, the patients often died. (Of course, according to the intellectual bimbos on Fox, the only bad thing about medicine is what the government might do to it, and the rapaciousness of some doctors, and the death ensuing from their greed, does not exist.)


So what does the news media talk about when it opts to discuss medicine.  First, they concentrate on the immaterial audio-visuals: The TV screen shows film footage of long lines at clinics and babies crying when they get a shot. (ooh, how cute, the stupid Edith Bunkers coo) And then the narrator relates his grave and gripping news story:  We are in flu season, and it is rough.


I live in New York City, which imagines that it is the utter apogee of journalistic excellence.  In New York, millions of people are spending upwards of half of their income on rent, and are living in rat-infested and dilapidated conditions, and the local television news is telling us about the aforesaid ferry accident which resulted in no deaths, a bake sale at a parochial school, and, if they are in a particularly moronic mood, a lead story will consist of a lot of moaning and groaning because a storm had the temerity to deposit a mere two inches of snow on the ground.


Obviously, this pathological coverage means that important stories are ignored.  However there is another way in which we suffer because of the dearth of coverage of important stories. When the television news concentrates on dog shows and other such nonsense, people assume that little is really wrong with society or that if there are problems they are not the result of malfeasance or negligence on the part of big business or government.  Surely, if bad things were happening, they would be reported upon, ordinary folk assume.  For example I remember an allegedly bright woman (she was an attorney) telling me, in 1988, that AIDS “was no longer a problem.”  I asked her what made her come to this conclusion, and she responded, in her inimitably stupid way, by saying, “Well, they talked about it a lot on TV, back in 1985, what with Rock Hudson and all, and I don’t hear that much about it anymore.”  Of course, things were much worse in 1988 than they were in 1985.  (The infection rate was going up like a parabola on a Cartesian plane.  There were 1000 cases in 1982, 10,000 cases in 1984 and by 1988 about 1,000,000 people in this country were infected – and in those days our medicinal arsenal was virtually empty)  That woman’s views had nothing to do with reality and were nothing other than the neutered version of reality she had imbibed from her tame and lame television – of course, television, we are told, is better than ever because it is “high definition” television; the caliber and intellectual content of the programming is of no moment.


This problem has always been with us but now it is only getting worse.  Yes, in 1964 the government fabricated a crisis in the Gulf of Tonkin to broaden our involvement in Vietnam, and the media was sold on the lie, but the media did not smile too much.  Walter Cronkite reported the news in his gravelly voice, did not behave as a mouthpiece for government propaganda, and showed us the villages we torched as part of our Orwellian “pacification” program.  But today the media behaves like fawning fools of the government, and when Bush declared — all dressed up in military drag — in 2004 that his mission In Iraq was accomplished, the television announcers ran their brushes through their blow-dried hair and smiled wide and told us that the President was a very virile man.  And so  we have our bread and  circuses, our Lay’s potato chips to give us type two diabetes and our network and cable news to lead us inexorably towards senile dementia.


Copyright, David Gottfried, 2013