Writing as Resistance

“The Goal: an era of investigative poesy wherein one can be controversial, radical, and not have the civilization rise up to smite down the bard. To establish and to maintain it. POETS MAY REMAIN IN THE RADIX, UNCOMPROMISING, REVOLUTIONARY, SEDITIOUS, ABSOLUTE.”
—Ed Sanders, 1976

I cross the way

As you fall
               in the 1810s
a new century
               arises.
Call of the spirit
               of Tecumseh,
               of Geronimo
Dancing ghosts;
               if history as, why
wouldn’t it continue
               on cosmically,
Extends into the heavens,
               then in truth,
One day we shall overcome
               these earthly dominions,
Shooting star.

i

Sky rained not clear;
drizzle billions, not downpour
How does each bead of the monsoon link up,
Dressed up Elf asked. . . then in the backyard : click, clack. .
Nickety-nack with the gnome goin’
on about subterranean bee’s wax

Taxed in the nuts up from the government of animal kingdom to squirrels. . . through old-fashed fax
The paper squeaked through,
‘who xeroxed they nuts on this goddamn photo-booth?!’
While numerous general skunks boozed-slapped each other;
drunk confused, funny pics oozed
Caught with their military fatigue pants down,
how many goddamn generals it take to screw in a frickin’ halfway decent society, not go around killin’ folks, by gawd

brought the generals’s father’s daddies in Japan in some forest witless since the English screwed ’em over thoroughly
Buggering each other thoroughly and the planet too and all its inhabitants, and calling it Civilization
Realization of schmucks in the jungle wasn’t quite the idea yet at the time. . .

Civilization has created our concrete jungles,
where war and poverty and suffering and misery are the fruits of it
Bit by bit, clouds drain from above for a whole day;
squirrels wondering question: what civilization?
Can I sell deez nuts for a Porsche?

What’s posh is the nature nurtured not by rods, not?
Or would squirrels rather drive a McLaren in jungles?
All creatures have a car farting up the ozone,
oh no now the rain falls a Civilized Brown
Game of crown played in the animal kingdom found by a shepherd;
later sold the game idea to a fame-famished clown who breeds lots of skunks

This odoriferous code, a trinity of programming language,
hieroglyphic beginnings start on square one in the pharaoh dreaming of eternal life, eternal Rule 
Blew in the cool breeze of moonsoon
when a wizard named MickeyMouse pass gas : Buzz!
Fuzzy Dumbo then the Trademark put a sleep in all the people’s eyes,
can you smell that smell,

Belle then asked the Beast : did you just break wind?
No not I, said the fair Prince, while that stupid fucking candlestick was like, ‘aw fuck’
Who utter the F word?! : yelled Duck the Donald.
Ol’ Grandaddy Scrooge! His flappy orange hairpiece eclipsing the sun,
and Farts ruled for a century. 

ii

Really? Who’s the grandpapa of that orange moron? :
asked Pooh Winnie who was made in China.
Winnie Winnie Winnie can’t you see,
sometimes the Dragon Lord hypnotize me

Hypnotic KungFu Panda jumped in and he went :
I am the dragon warrior. . . wu. . ha ha ha. . .
Monkey King grow out of the rock on the hill,
enlightened with Tao,
no you are the emptiness of your Dragon Mind

It’s time you dine with your bananas, bro! :
cried the Pig to the Monkey. : & we’ll talk about Dragon Mind
after we get rid of some snakes, eh? : he added. . .
Fall one banana. Grown to the size of crescent moon.
No a helical serpent. ‘I am goddess of wisdom.’

Crimson creek in concrete jungles wonder :
why does she not make the water pristine with her wisdom?
For God came, binding her with power lines,
pyramids of skyscrapers, and banished her to the ancient books. 

Divine not God, for banishment’s not
what a true deity would attempt if he or she’s good
Indeed for Jesus the Conqueror in the name of All that is Good,
kicked the shit out of all His enemies.

Believe or be good or will he be
his own enemies? : is the question we need.
One’s enemies are also one’s self, ah yes
for the true conqueror first overthrows
the violence in one’s self!

How often do we reflect our selves
from the inside? : ask ourselves.
Which is the true mirror : the mind,
or the Endless Yearning of Farts
to be smelt and dealt, out of a Screen?

Algorithm

We are born into a world that
               cites as facts
the absolutism of the reflecting
               screen,
that the imbecile omniscient
               has their proof!
And all is everywhere
               no more a miracle
               than tuned, programmed.
All is confirmed forever
               in the absolute mundanities,
Even the last revolution
               passed without much thought,
Till even the reality
               of thought goes
               debunked,
Leaving us in the fantasy
               of our clockwork
               universe.

Ghosts of fallen souls risen again holdin’ branches of flowers poking the soldiers’ & the generals’ conscience 
To see if the murderers have hearts & souls who hold the oath to protect yet destruct 
The very people who employed them to avert danger fallen to the country 
Now look at us, do we still need this self-destructive army?
No. . . blood we can still breathe. . so, please. Breathe. . . . deep. .

I read a book about the
meaning of life in my dreams,
While keeping me hands clean
amongst monstrous scream. . .
Me felt a wave of energy,
like a roar of a ghostly train, 
Enter terrain of bloodthirsty
creatures draining crimson
from atop, insane.

My mind squirmed in its hold,
desperate not to catch the disease, 
Oh please : said the crazy monkey
to whoever with the disease. . .
               breathe. .
The breath was golden light,
confusions began to clear, 
Fear not, dear : send the message
from the book : for over this territory,
               there’s beer;
Brews of intoxicating amber color,
ideas and words blurred,
a Oneness of existence
               fermenting;
Bluntness in honesty rewarded not
by people with integrity :
said the Whiskey to Fermented Liquor. . .

Now the booze was talking to each other,
the Beer said to the Whiskey,
what do you mean by a Reward,
what do you mean by Integrity?
Dependency on each other
are what they mean respectively,
dummy! : clowned the Whiskey
to Beer the dizzy, yet both in lunacy.

The dizzy and the lunatic,
relieved in their passing gas
naturally, though then were
approached by the
Drug Administration : No,
one can’t be farting here,
to the dungeon with ye!

No. . . no. . no. No off they go
somewhere else for the breaking
of wind without being heard or seen
yet they make sure the gas
is thoroughly smelt.
And we were tagged
with a birth certificate,
endless government documents.
A celestial bureaucracy which
watches us from birth to death.
Face analyzing software or rather,
can and bottle analysis, found
the Whisky and Beer in a crowd. 
Big Brother say : There is a structure
in life we create that denies the fact
of making a fart behind
               little White lying!

               Aye, here goes : poof. . .
& Whiskey goes : the other boozed
               can just passed gas!
Beer got gassed. Punishment of death.
Whisky got a bunch of Indians shit-faced,
then became an American President!

“There is only one path to happiness and we can only get there by overthrowing the following systems: 1. The state: [. . .] The state creates law to restrict our freedom; it forces us to fight against our peace-loving nature; it encourages us to compete with people of other nations while we are supposed to help each other. [. . .] 2. Private property: private property is the reward of pillage. Property was originally shared by all people. However, some men, either by using their intelligence or their strength, began to occupy public property or made many people homeless. They also began to hire people to work for them. The products that the workers produce are only enjoyed by their bosses. This is the most unjust example in the world. [. . .] 3. Religion: [. . .] Religion teaches us to believe in superstition while we should search for the truth; religion encourages us to be conservative when we should act progressively,” Ba Jin (巴金), 1921.

CONTRIBUTE? CONTACT ALEX AT [email protected], OR MARSHAL AT HEURISTIC HALO.