In Search of the Night Jew [CombatWords, September 17, 2010]

In Search of the Night Jew [CombatWords, September 17, 2010]
http://combatwords.blogspot.com/2010/09/combatwords-for-september-17-2010.html

“Someday the Jew will be known as a sandwich,”
Graveyards await the messiah, my friend.
Maybe he came, but nobody could greet him.
Even more likely, they caught him and jailed
Prince of the peace everlasting. “Extinction's
Fine,” you had told me, “first, let me die.” You were
Always precocious: arrested and murdered
Ages ago, while my Jewish remains
Thrust near the limit, through starlight—I'm searching,
Always at night, for survivors, Minyan's
Not at all possible. Noah the Night Jew
Rides through the cosmos as well, I am sure
Someday we'll meet and confess what we've witnessed:
Nuclear explosions and atheist sorrow.

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Chess Machine [CombatWords Poem, September 10, 2010]

Chess Machine [CombatWords, September 10, 2010]
http://combatwords.blogspot.com/2010/09/combatwords-september-10-2010.html

Sensei twitches: brainstem itches.
Scores of insect lords infect
Boards of wooden brains, he's lain
Bones on benches. Crones and wenches
Feed the dusk their seed on husks.
Peeling clothing, feeling loathing,
Lain his stilts, he's slain with guilt.
Chess board master; stress-disaster
Sleepy screamer, creepy dreamer;
Knight of weed, he's slight in deed:
Diving boards through thriving gourds—
Swimming pools are trimming fools
Playing toys like praying boys,
Frisco-banned lout, schizo handout:
Corrective gears, reflexive tears.

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Pandemonium Rising [CombatWords, September 4, 2010]

Pandemonium Rising [CombatWords, September 4, 2010]
http://combatwords.blogspot.com/2010/09/combatwords-september-3-2010-delusion.html

Each time a devil obtains its own pitchfork
An angel is learning to die.
Now populations of seraphim plummet
While newer and stronger gods rise.
No evil germinates without a fertile
Black soil, so the roots might unfurl
Out from the inky and smothering blackness—
From mineral, up to the top.
Rage grasps their hope. Pandemonium rises:
Huge. Modern and filled with the hope
That lives in avarice, laughter and throttles—
Yes, murder and paranoid hate.

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Raskolnikov's Breakfast With Caesar and the Emperor Qin [CombatWords August 27, 2010]

Raskolnikov's Breakfast With Caesar and the Emperor Qin [CombatWords August 27, 2010]
http://combatwords.blogspot.com/2010/08/combatwords-august-27-2010-hypocrisy.html

Smile and the office awaits you.
Grin and you'll ride to the steeple of glass.
A bow-tie suggests that you're honest,
While glasses imply that you read when you can.
So help them to cover their asses.
They'll pay you with passcodes, permissions to transfer
what's hidden in cubicles; breathing through
fax machines; hissing in copiers, blazing
through halogens. You'll conquer the windows and walls
with a taxi that's speeding the emperor home
to his chariot: wings over smog.
They call you a thief, or Raskolnikov
yet there's a house by the beach on an island,
awaiting its Bonaparte, dressed in a bow;
to breakfast with Caesar, the Emperor Qin,
and talk about the fairness of confidence.

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#CombatWords is on, right now

http://combatwords.blogspot.com

I'll post some CombatWords poems in a little bit. You could support the site while you're waiting--I have some stuff to do first.

Even David Bowie agrees:



So does Frank Black.

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Flash Flood [Today's News Poem, September 17, 2010]

Flash Flood [Today's News Poem, September 17, 2010]

Arguments as sharp as shattered dishes,
Bills, or cigarettes she finds beneath the sink.
Everything's escape, so seek the yard and think.
Overtime to grant the little wishes
Fixing broken printers grants this worker.
Coffee through the day, insomnia by night.
Life's a string of instants; rarely feeling right,
Often worse. Lethargic, sleepy shirkers
Wake at home to quibble with their spouses
Rarely sleeping—no! Belay that little death!
Drive away from bankers squeezing out their breath
Working them exhausted, slave to houses.
Night is best. The road suggests an egress
White as light reflecting off the tidal swell;
Paved at first with cliff and sand. If one would dwell
Free, then risk the path of moon that blesses
Cowards off a cliff... then stay that steering
Wheel and keep to road. It's only if the ice
Slips you where the crabs select your deadened eyes—
Accidental death: heroic veering.

“There were more than 1,300 reports of damaged trees that were called into 311 or observed by Parks Department employees. Red dots show areas with downed trees. ”
– The New York Times, September 17, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2010/09/17/nyregion/brooklyn-storm-map.html

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Yum Kipper [#twitterfoundpoem, September 17, 2010]

Yum Kipper [#twitterfoundpoem, September 17, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

behold Yon Kipper!!!
fish of oppression.
All this fuss about a baby smoked fish
is never complete without the Pope and I fighting over
organised religion.
I bought a bucket of condoms to throw at him.
he bought a knife and gutted me!!!
he Bathed, refreshed in my Jewish blood
and smoked my lifeless body
in his Temple of Doom.
then he packed me in cans
and now behold:
Yum Kipper.


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