Magic Carpet Ride
The girl from Ipanema yearns
to make sweet love poetry
inside a shimmering rainbow.
And innate guidance directs
to a goblet of wine as
you watch the sun ascend.
Light waves lend insight
as myths infiltrate
from mysterious sources.
Anticipation becomes urge
to scale great ladders
and kiss stars while passing.
Passion out of control so
relax or like Icarus
regret what fate is in store.
Initiation depends on
paths traveled
during this journey.
You still sorry about milk
spilt yesterday a cat
slurped up from the floor.
Storms will come issuing
stupendous thunder
and fury you can be sure.
Nonetheless rewards await
the bold explorer
fetching perpetual wind.
Now eliminate confusion
tossing up barriers
that subvert domination.
See what liberty emerges
when eternity grows
within a wide open mind.
Hollywood Shuffle
Mephistopheles spreads prophecies of long-gone sagas
Considerably miserable the lamebrain remains strained
Implausibly illogical propaganda astounds gains ground
Virtuous virgin spoiled foiled nuptial love justly undone
Plans fine by design yet untrue to the dimwit useful tool
Passive-aggressive repressive necessity feels really neat
Hatched from sand the being once emancipated dances
Carefully guarded artifice unwittingly parts history seas
Sentimental fundamental parable is sent flaming away
Actual fact substantial bold cold scolding complacence
Statutory storyline divine consigned by regulated fates
Lords forlorn torn misshaped but predominate anyway
Ceremonial floats coast prone to tainted entertainment
Residual mysteries peep deep in dreams cast as ghosts
Music soothes cools fuels revives invites pretty rhymes
Lacking panache petty peons convert animal fat to gas
Season breezes make wheezes as the people kick back
Forever guessing which blessing went east which west
Deep-seeded secret tyranny sanctified goes wildly viral
Progress incremental bogged by their irrational stances
Renegade glacier erases ages of accumulation in a day
Presumptive abundance doesn’t materialize so they cry
Mistakes duplicated add only acrimony and create pain
Molecules combined in time producing unique species
Universal reversal of sordid morals may brighten skies
Judgment day far away so stay calm loaf go skip rope
What Then My Love?
What would it benefit any sane man
to jettison rhyme and reason, replace
realities collected in the unconscious
with a mind full of misinformation?
What be the cost of generations lost
to history, memory of which snuffed
by anarchy and war that had caused
unthinkable dread among the people?
What result when night becomes day
in sudden flashes while orange globes
glow brighter still than the rising sun
as cities erupt in spectacular flames?
What then become of thunder, rain,
the blue skies above, moral grounds,
accepted theology, even martial arts,
but the sorry end of all beginnings?
What love resound above unfettered
hypocrites who urge the herd along
with oddball theories, lies and deceit,
countries in ruin like fallen Rome?
What comfort in that which seems
manifest as happy fiction of dreams
while depravity yanks the ego away
from visions waiting for discovery?
What empire survives the power
of a populace in process of revolt
violently dissenting its status quo
as their mob storms the palace?
What heroes will emerge from ash
spread widely amid global rubble
should all Gods fail and angels cry
over justice a cold world spurned?
Canterbury Chant
Evangelical zealots huddle together, reap
lies by the bushel while creationists weep
in their beer, doubted and double-crossed.
Fears certain as noses on their faces
faithful pray that better times lie ahead
despite ominous signals to the contrary.
Sacrifices must be made and territory lost
when greed is antecedent to unrestrained
hardship doled out to the clearly innocent.
People populate cities, billions like ants
scrambling helter-skelter as viewed from
satellites beaming data across open space.
Around the globe poverty, religious wars,
strange phobias, absence of scruples, odd
manias, unprecedented madness, retreat.
Don goggles and observe virtual scenes
streaming like fire straight through pupils
to plant deeply in the unexpecting brain.
Governments stalemated, scared, uncertain
whether daily changes beyond their control
will take an inevitable toll on constituents.
Old methods like flagellation don’t help,
only adding to confusion, chaos, dissent,
which stink and yet continue to flourish.
So manufacture stories, write fiction though
it makes no sense. Invent Edens, ooze love
such that pink doves flock and circle above.
Forget ridiculous sanctimonious solutions,
they’re of no use in determining which way
the roulette ball will fall today, black or red.
Restrictions on liberty tear the heart apart.
Saints shrink and knights in shining armor
are called upon to renew justice and honor.
The Price of Life
They say life is overpriced, for every effort spent
only half returned as the days churn and one finds
there is nothing to hold onto. Memory fades, nights
morph into days which seem only a distant concept
some weeks later while you’re reading a magazine
or surfing the web in pursuit of the current fashion.
What’s earned gets taxed, what’s left to pocket
too often a dismal amount. Grow older and wiser
but never get rich unless you’re of an elite class,
one in which there is no reward other than wealth.
So look around, feel the sky, observe, sigh, let go,
though anonymous be heard above their howls.
Run aimless through halls of fabulous adventure.
Stand up straight, tighten the tie, eat savory meals,
gather together the people who most often appear
in dreams and make of them one integrated family.
For this no payment is necessary, you’ll need only
sit quietly on a park bench and shut the eyes tight.
Countries billions, trillions in debt, your debt too,
no shunning responsibility in a society where all
must share the load. Goods and services cost, no
avoiding the fact what comes goes quickly. Even
if standing in place and the lights are on you pay,
captive of systems far beyond anyone’s control.
Dig for diamonds, bore down beneath mountains
in search of gold, pour a glass of pinot and relax.
The flesh may droop and pains pierce suddenly
as you’re giving back what was gifted when born,
a life the universe granted you, but one to mourn
when the hourglass runs out and you go broke.
Meantime denounce the clever thief who haunts,
taunts with insidious lies about a joyful trip to
some unfounded residence where the rent is free
and all you have to do is surrender your liberty
in favor of the idea that you always get what
you pay for, which includes an everlasting life.
About the Author
Thomas Piekarski is a former editor of the California State Poetry Quarterly. His poetry has appeared in such publications as The Journal, Poetry Salzburg, Modern Literature, The Museum of Americana, South African Literary Journal, and Home Planet News. His books of poetry are Ballad of Billy the Kid, Monterey Bay Adventures, Mercurial World, Aurora California, and Opus Borealis.
