Poetry: Memories Awakened

a friend died

this morning,

i feel sad

and warm at the same time

as memories

become the present

and memories

i had not thought about

for years...decades...

re-appear

as if yesterday

last night

right now...

the times we

found ourselves at the

foot of some stage

soaking in the music,

every decibel

a part of us

and we bonded and drank...

gwar

gaye bikers on acid...

lou reed...

suicidal tendencies...

laughing hyenas...

he's seen me drunk and crazy

yet never judgemental,

a positive energy

emanated from him,

and he's heard every note

of every song

ever recorded...

and some not recorded,

and if you sold 12 albums

and were a garage band in Sweden

chances are

he had one (or two) of those 12

albums --

the wrestling shows

abdullah the butcher

terry funk

a bloodbath by 2 old warriors

of the ring

as we watched 

enthralled

completely entertained...

and it's been 7 years

since I moved away,

modern technology

kept us in touch

but it's not the same

and i wish i was there

at the roller derby

at the local wrestling shows,

talking about music

as I scribble down

obscure band names to look up

and us at the foot

of the stage

soaking in every decibel

every note

...

a friend of mine

died this morning

i feel sad

&

i feel warm

...

june 9, 2011

What? I said!!!! What???????? I SAID!!!!

I have a million things to say

...but no one's listening

Now where's my pipe???

Ah...that's better!

Now what was I saying???

*************************

Poetry(?): Shit

Shit

I may talk too much
about my shit
but that's just me dealing
with my shit,
I'm not saying my shit
is the worse shit of all,
or that it's worse than
your shit,
no no no shit no...

not at all

I know that I'm a lucky shit
since my shit
always hits the toilet bowl,
while I see lots of
people who have no
toilet bowl
to put their shit...

and you know what?

that's shit...

march 12, 2011
*********************

Poetry: Anger

Anger

I shiver with rage at the lack of sensitivity
when I walk around your smelly downtown,
There was this asshole
who pushed me aside, he thought he was tough,
I'm not taking it - I've had enough!

Don't push me round
Don't put me down
Anger

Sex in the city, isolation's free
if you want to live miserably,
why don't you talk to me,
I'll remind you of your history,
we can't keep making the same mistakes
if we wanna die, naturally!

We gotta fight
We gotta right
Anger...

This anger cannot be constrained
This anger cannot be restrained,
it's time to spit it out
and let everybody know,
that it's too late to be sedate
we've got to let the anger flow!

We gotta fight
Don't push me round
Anger...

I hate working the night shift
under the stars so bright,
I'd rather be free of employment
making the manager's rich
while I struggle to pay my rent
all they do is bitch!!

Don't push me round
Don't push us round
Anger....Anger...Anger!!!!

written early 80s when I was around 20ish (and apparently working the night shift!). Recorded by The Hated Uncles 1985-1986 era.
*******************

Poetry: Enough! said the Clown with a Frown

the clown with a frown

is tired...
laughter
...a foreign sound

light a match
set me on fire
i want to burn
amongst the
smoke and flames

tired of rampant sexual abuse
(shhh...
we don't talk about that)
stealing a child's innocence
tired of racism
tired of denials
tired of governments
tossing band aids
at amputees
saying:
"hey, we did our best!"
so fucking proud
please stop
the cries are too loud

tired of a fake family
that doesn't exist
tired of the games we play
tired of fucking life skills
tired
of the sadness i see

protect the abuser

silence the abused

it's the way it is
i'm just a whitey
an outsider
never an insider

the cops don't give a shit

the ministry don't give a shit

big fat pay cheques

keeps the silence

screaming:

"stop fucking the children,

please, stop fucking the children..."

********************

Halloween Horror: "The Horror of Every Day Modern Life!!!"

i hate my job i hate my job i hate my job
i hate my job i hate my job i hate my job

the words repeat over and over
inside his head
as he feels more sucked in by the day
with seemingly less chance of escape
how did he end up here?

i hate my job i hate my job i hate my job

the clock patiently ticks away
closer and closer to the morning

i hate my job i hate my job i hate my job

it was only for the money
make some cash...then get the hell out
but it didn't end up like that

I hate my job I hate my job I hate my job

The debts stays the same, not going down,
no other jobs, can't afford to move,
ain't getting laid ain't getting paid...enough

I hate my job I hate my job I hate my job 

3 years now, how many more?
1 more, 2 more, 20 MORE!!!

i despise my job i despise my job i despise my job

waking up in the morning
(did he wake up? was he already awake?
if you don't sleep you never wake up...)

i kill my job i kill my job i kill my job

he'll be there next week, definitely til xmas, then?

I am my job I am my job I am my job
I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself

he drinks his coffee...like he does every day
he has his shower, brushes his teeth,
mindlessly walks to the car
puts the key in the ignition
and drives to that place

I hate my job I hate my job I hate my job
I hate my job I hate my job I hate my job

he parks his car outside the trailer
where he works
and he sits
and he sits
and he laughs
the laughter increasing hysterically

I HATE MY JOB! I HATE MY JOB!
I HATE MY JOB! I HATE MY JOB!

he laughs and laughs and laughs and laughs
then he hears banging on the windows
he turns the radio up louder

I HATE MY FUCKING JOB!!
I HATE MY FUCKING JOB!!

more banging on the windows
...the sound of sirens
voices whispering...
and he laughs and laughs and laughs
as he's taken away in the ambulance
he thinks to himself:

I didn't know it was this easy
to take time off from work!
&&&&&&&&&&

Boo!!!!
top 2 (fantastic) paintings done by Yue Minjun
bottom photo from the classic "Evil Dead II" - one of the greatest movies of all-time!
***********************

Tuning with Les Rallizes Denudes...

Imagine...

after listening to Les Rallizes Denudes: "Double Heads"...
-----------------
a band comes on the stage...ready to RAWK!!! The guitarist strums a chord, then another chord...the drummer bangs a cymbal...the bass player hits a note then another...there is no vocalist...

they are tuning...

after a minute or two passes by,
it sounds like...
YES YES
they are ready to hit that BIG chord to get everyone m o v i n g
then the guitarist goes back to that original chord...
the drummer hits a tom...
the bass player fiddles with his amp...
they are getting ready to motherfucking ROCK the shit outta this place!!!!!
yeh yeh
i can hear it coming...
what the fuck?!
the guitarist is now fiddling with his amp?!?!
the bass player just walked off stage leaving his bass leaning against the amp...
a thick loud feedback erupts from the amp...
the drummer stands up and starts hitting the wall behind him with his fists
eventually
there is blood streaked against the piss stained wall...
what's that???
a FUCKING screwdriver!!!!
what the fuck is the guitarist up to now????
this is getting fucked...
he's drilling his fucking microphone!!!
now the bass player is back...
the guitarist stops the SHRILL drill
and then stomps on his guitar falling on his ass!!!
now he's crawling off stage...
the drummer stops smashing the wall with his fists
bows to the crowd and walks off...
leaving the bass player alone
standing at the microphone
...the feedback from his amp is slowly fading...
"good night"
the bass player says into the microphone
then walks off the stage...

leaving the crowd of
4
lying in a heap
soul upon soul
ears drained
brains fried
the crowd leave together in silence,
until one says to the other:
"That was fucking awesome!!!"
the other says to the one:
"That was fucked!!!"
The remaining 2 remain silent
digesting
the shards of pain they have experienced
and the anger they participated in...

meanwhile

the 3 bands members sit holding beers
passing joints
from one to the other
they sit
sweaty
bloody
agitated...
exhausted...
then one says to the other:
"We were fucking AWESOME tonight!!!"
the other says to the one:
"My hands are fucked!!!"
the remaining 1 sits silent
digesting
the pain suffered together for...
for...

still trying to figure that motherfucker out...
************************

Poetry: All Lost at the Supermarket

All Lost at the Supermarket
aka/ White Boy on Reserve I

deep crease
thick skin
sun-soaked
facial features
stare
across the aisle
into my
startled eyes

at the supermarket

we both seem
stuck
in the moment

i nervous
puzzled
- obviously depressed
…scared??

he impassive
stoic
…confident

i realize…
i have let my guard down
…backed up a step
lost the upper hand

slowly>>>
he turns away

continues
his shopping

i pause for
a moment
to reflect:

white boy on reserve lost another one.
*************
by John Harvey 05/14/09

words flow - sometimes they don't

Lethargy is Depression
...sometimes it's not.

brain....
dead

Lethargy grabbed hold of my balls and twisted and twisted and twisted until I screamed at Lethargy to release it's grip...

I crucified the lord of lords
god of gods
human of humans
then lost the nails
now they want to crucify me
but I ain't no saviour
though I savor the good times
the good times
have lost their taste
so I roll around in human waste
looking for some stupid rhymes
and I usually don't rhyme
unless the words flow
then there is no looking
merely receiving
and I try to shake this

LETHARGY

that's holding on to my balls

then as I write these bullshit words
a 12 pound yorkie pom
tells me it's time to take her out
if you want to shake this

LETHARGY

get off your ass
there's a world outside your head
unless you want to remain dead
then you'll be tightening

LETHARGY's

grip...
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Yeh - so - is it time for a holiday?

still alive
cleaning cobwebs
shining
the floor
I roll around on.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

the lack of
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
can get you down
don't let it get you down
it's merely the sound
of depression being strewn around
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

fuck the sucker fast and hard
before the fucker fucks you.
***************************************

amen.

Poem written January 12th around 1:00 p.m: Vomit and Alarm Clocks

Vomit and Alarm Clocks

i stumble towards the bathroom
1 hour to work and feeling like shit....
i heave 3 times
each one stronger than the previous
THEN
i hear the alarm clock
announcing that
s l e e p
is OVER
time for work
i scream "no no no no no no!!!!!"
did i set the clock wrong?
no no no no no no

i lay back down pale and weak
unable to move a muscle
without maximum effort
the guru enters
and tells me i need to see a doc
i'm like no no no no no no
i don't wanna see no doc
they do nothing but make you feel
like a
faker baker -
"why come to me when there are REAL sick people
out there for me to see!!!!"
the doc screams into my face
as the sweat pours down
and the pains in my chest give away my age

i swear i'm gonna
start eating right
exercising and stretching
my bodily woes away
until i'm running and cycling
round the island
like a tourist....

my eyes open warily
it's now 12:30
the dog needs to go out
the cat needs to be pet
i feel unsteady, sickly
like the vomit may re-appear
and make me humble....

i struggle and get the garbage out
(large piece of wood on it
to keep the eagles and other sundry
animals from decorating our yard
with a garbage collage)

i head back in
and put these god-damn words
down onto my computer
and this
...blog....

written 1/12/2009 by John Harvey
******************************