Death Drawing Near
Posted: October 18, 2012 Filed under: POEMS, Psychology | Tags: aria, Calais, communique, Paris, promenades Leave a comment
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
Posted: October 18, 2012 Filed under: POEMS, Psychology, Sexuality | Tags: brokeback mountain, homosexuality, striations, white as a dove Leave a comment
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
The Sight of Arabic Script
Posted: October 18, 2012 Filed under: POEMS, Politics, Psychology, Uncategorized | Tags: Arabic Script, Fascist, Nazified, Wagner 2 Comments
Arabic Script is spiders fighting
Snakes slithering
Tarantulas conspiring
To slaughter you in their web
The lines are impulsive
The anger’s convulsive
So vehement, vindictive
Next to common Latin letters
The placid, lakely, lovely L
Like her ladyship
The Lamed of Hebrew
Such a graceful graphic
But Arabic script galls for war
They’ll do it again like they’ve done before
Wanton and Wicked like a Wagner score
Nazified and fascist to the very core
Copyright, David Gottfried, 2006
On Being a Hurricane
Posted: October 18, 2012 Filed under: POEMS, Psychology, Sexuality | Tags: Bette Davis, Hurricane, Hurricane Betsy Leave a comment
ON BEING A HURRICANE
When I was young
For a brief period of time
I wanted to be a girl
Because when I was young
I wanted to be a hurricane and only girls got to be hurricanes.
Flailing and wailing and making a big fuss.
They were like big black women
Flying over from Africa on maritime broom sticks
Getting revenge on the South for slavery
And most of all
I remember
Hurricane Betsy
Which bombed the South in 1965
To me she was Hurricane Betty Davis
Screaming and beating the confederacy for opposing the
Voting Rights Act, for voting for Goldwater
Hurricanes were nice and round
like a big bad women’s sumptuous behind.
Shaking her stuff in a mini skirt and doing the twist
Hurricanes cried the rain of four hundred years
Whipped the wind like a thousand masters’ lashes
Had all the strength of a woman in childbirth and a man on Iwo Jima
I wanted to be a Hurricane
Copyright, David Gottfried, 1996
Marriage — Of the Gay Persuasion
Posted: October 18, 2012 Filed under: POEMS, Psychology, Sexuality | Tags: gay marriage Leave a comment
I ride the horse so black and brave
I swim through currents cold and cruel
And if you think I am a knave
I’ll show you who’s the bigger fool
You’ll quiver like a chastened slave
You’ll be my pliant, passive tool
And on your flesh I will engrave
A tattoo of my raunchy rule
Submit to me, the man you crave
Your pleasures are a meager gruel
My spike will make your life less grave
Don’t be a stupid, stubborn mule
And do not cry and rant and rave
Your freedom is a whirling pool
Your tumult will not let you save
Or cherish life as its lived dual
Copyright, David Gottfried, 2007
And You Think You’re Depressed
Posted: October 18, 2012 Filed under: POEMS, Psychology | Tags: Depression Leave a comment
The days turn into years
The years engender tears
All Hope just disappears
My life is rife with fears
My car it sharply veers
Into a ditch it steers
Death lures me as it leers
To hell’s lowest tiers
My ship can find no piers
No guiding astral spheres
In darkest night that blears
And drowns me and ensnares
I’ve never had love, cheers
The gloom it never clears
No comfort that endears
Just hatred and rude stares
And God never cares
And Life never dares
It never makes repairs
And sorrow always sears
Copyright, David Gottfried, 2005
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
The Pitchy Black Night
Posted: October 18, 2012 Filed under: POEMS, Psychology | Tags: David Gottfried, Depression Leave a commentThe Pitchy Black Night
I rued the blood that pooled
I would be soon entombed
The guilt is not exhumed
I waited for the doom
The midnight eclipsed the noon
As the sky was crowned with moon
And the stars were cursed and pruned
For the great galactic gloom
The cruelty without a clue
The arson bereft of fume
The sickness that always grew
Like flames in fullest bloom
And do you dare presume
What molds my attitudes
My mildewed mind that broods
That rages, plots and stews
Copyright, David Gottfried, 2006
David Bowie
Posted: October 18, 2012 Filed under: Aesthetics, POEMS, Psychology, Sexuality | Tags: David Bowie Leave a comment
I hear David Bowie’s voice playing with my cock
He strokes it, and he provokes it
And his raspy, shaved white skin
Gives it a vicious tickle
But he’s Betty Davis in Of Human Bondage
He’s a fucking bitch
And the tentacles of his spiderman sophistry
Suddenly squeeze my balls
And bind them to a leper messiah
Multiplied to the tenth power of perversion
Galavanting Godiva, Seer of the Sissies
His steeds charge into orifices everywhere
Expanding and revamping in his own image
And thirty years later all the hordes of bleach blond boys
Radiating their own special brew of highly combustible faggotry
Spiked with speed and salivating for success
Make David Bowie seem pitifully tame.
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
gunsandnobutter 