Poetry and AIDS-related Dementia
Posted: January 19, 2013 Filed under: Misc., POEMS, Psychology | Tags: AIDS, David Gottfried, Lance, Poetry, Pus Leave a comment
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
Posted: January 18, 2013 Filed under: Misc., POEMS, Politics, Psychology | Tags: borscht, borsht, Cyanide, Lard, tsimis, tsimmis Leave a comment
JEWISH COOKING
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
Lard
Copyright, David Gottfried, 2003
The Gnashing of the Brain Stem
Posted: January 18, 2013 Filed under: Aesthetics, Misc., POEMS, Psychology | Tags: brain stem, David Gottfried, phlegm, sages Leave a comment
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
Smoke My Herb
Posted: October 20, 2012 Filed under: Misc., POEMS, Psychology, Sexuality | Tags: I am the Walrus, John Lennon, Klam, marijuana, Pieta Leave a comment
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
Tainted with a Stain
Posted: October 18, 2012 Filed under: Misc., POEMS, Psychology | Tags: Cain, Lady Jane Leave a comment
I’m tainted with a stain
A wretched mark of Cain
Life I can’t retain
Succor I can’t obtain
The ceaseless stark refrain
Of never-ending pain
Of hopes all down the drain
Trying is in vain.
No culprit to arraign
I’m slicing up my vein
Death I will attain
I sink in a sewer main
I hear sweet “Lady Jane”
I see a scarlet train
Of regnant, regal reign
Dreams lost, I am insane
Copyright, David Gottfried, 2005
I Don’t Want to be like This
Posted: October 12, 2012 Filed under: Misc., POEMS, Psychology | Tags: David Gottfried, misiltoe, roe Leave a comment
I strike the match, I start the show
I spike the punch with poisoned roe
A tumor spreading starts to glow
Your Happiness hijacked by woe
And what new harms will I bestow
Ills that fester, always grow
Your life is held in escrow
I’ll drag you down so deep below
You’ll never see the mistiltoe
Mired beneath seven foot snow
I am your implacable foe
Beware my arctic wind’s harsh blow
Copyright, David Gottfried, 1996
Alone with Death
Posted: October 12, 2012 Filed under: Misc., POEMS, Psychology | Tags: bride, Davd Gottfried, gutless God, homocide Leave a comment
When the wind and the water and the whirling all died
And no one was left to be your bride
And your only thought was homicide
And god was a gutless guide
When Aaron couldn’t speak and Moses couldn’t raise his staff
And no prophet could pass a polygraph
And the witch in triumph was heard to laugh
And the temple was borne of death and graft
When the sun made us cancerous and cold
When the moon spewed lunacy and doom
When the stars were pustules eating the dead groom
Copyright, David Gottfried, 1996
Fire And Death
Posted: October 12, 2012 Filed under: Misc., POEMS, Psychology | Tags: David Gottfried, Fire Leave a comment
And all the world will be in love with night
with the sweet sad chords wafting in the wind
with the elemental pain of lost life and love
And the love will kill the life
It is the body and it is the blood
The macerated consecration of your love
Of my great mad mind bending to the blue
bourne to the boldest dagger of the death
Slicing the sky to a great orange sun
Devouring me, all fire burning beautiful
Lusting flames basting flesh and brick
Like toungues bathing tear stained cheeks
Touched by the salted holy waters
of the Deadest Sea of Isreal
God’s quicksanded ways, wishing you to death
There in the salt and there in the sun
there in the brilliant blanching light
The omnipresent calvalcade toward night
Burn it brightly, burn it brightly
sizzle and sparkle, ignite and explode
Fire Fire everywhere for a good death night
Copyright, David Gottfried, 1998
Am I Evil?
Posted: October 10, 2012 Filed under: Misc., POEMS, Psychology, Sexuality | Tags: debasement, elan, evil, Phallus, resected Leave a comment
The eddy draws me in
The quicksand covers me up
Entombed, marooned, the jig is up
The fire has burned its last
But I hover in the winds
A wafting witch of doom
Bequeathing certain gloom
My member becomes a broom
I am a cancer and a curse
Ejaculating lava love
I seed eternal disbelief
I desiccate every dove
I am evil, evil, to the core
My laser eyes glare and bore
Like a magnifying lens
I summon fires to the fore
That burn and singe your petty heart
And take every organ apart
Into your balls I throw my darts
And clot your vessels with infarcts
Dissected, Resected and never respected
Your half dead body writhes in pain
Your mind is stupid or insane
Your buggered belly’s pierced, distended
And when I look upon my deed
The debasement of a fine young man
I realize why my ancient creed
Was so irate at his elan
We cannot love and so we hate
We cannot create, so we destroy
The pride, the Phallus, we’ll ablate
While we declaim we’re god’s envoy
Copyright, David G0ttfried, 2008
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