2010
by Tarzana Joe
When near next November’s nigh
A mad majority disappears
In spotless sun
Taxes rise
As realization settles
On a seething city
Thin alliances dissolve
Approval ratings glide down
Facts feature failure for the future
A hard fall comes
Quickly
Then signs are raised
Slogans shouted
For the nation’s celebration
One term Blue Dogs take their leave
Unmourned
Bekins readies their vans
The people have found their voice
Bells ring
The city on the hill shines again
The poet cries
The moment of decision has arrived
The checkbook and the voting booth
Here are your tools.
For all your poetry needs
Dec 18, 2009
Dec 17, 2009
Angry Poem
Growl
By Tarzana Joe with a limited borrowing from Allen Ginsberg
They say that every Inuit
Knows a thousand words for snow
What we need in Washington
Is forty-one for NO
No
No!
No more rhyme
No more meter
Now I howl
I have seen the “best minds” of a generation destroyed by madness
Who passed through Universities hallucinating
Who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers
Who were expelled from the academies for publishing obscene odes
Who made it through all this and somehow got to Washington
To Dream up Medicare for Juniors and Enron Economics
No
We can hand over our music to these men but not our souls
Let them have the newspapers
We will keep our radio and our freedoms
For a bunch who built their orthodox on choice
They sure forgot that word when it comes to
Pacemakers
Hips
Shoulders
And eyelids
I may only have one kidney but its mine
No
We will not let them tax our wind or
Tell us where to put our thermostats
No
We will not let these unshaven underwear shuddering
Peyote politicians tell us how to live
Or when to die
They say that every Inuit
Knows a thousand words for snow
What we need in Washington
Is forty-one for NO
By Tarzana Joe with a limited borrowing from Allen Ginsberg
They say that every Inuit
Knows a thousand words for snow
What we need in Washington
Is forty-one for NO
No
No!
No more rhyme
No more meter
Now I howl
I have seen the “best minds” of a generation destroyed by madness
Who passed through Universities hallucinating
Who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers
Who were expelled from the academies for publishing obscene odes
Who made it through all this and somehow got to Washington
To Dream up Medicare for Juniors and Enron Economics
No
We can hand over our music to these men but not our souls
Let them have the newspapers
We will keep our radio and our freedoms
For a bunch who built their orthodox on choice
They sure forgot that word when it comes to
Pacemakers
Hips
Shoulders
And eyelids
I may only have one kidney but its mine
No
We will not let them tax our wind or
Tell us where to put our thermostats
No
We will not let these unshaven underwear shuddering
Peyote politicians tell us how to live
Or when to die
They say that every Inuit
Knows a thousand words for snow
What we need in Washington
Is forty-one for NO
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