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On the precipice of a new day, all things begin anew.

Our fears, our hatreds, our happiness: what pierces us through and through- they don’t have any more power, they’re not wholly needed.

In fact, having a never ending cycle of such repeated elements… it’s nothing we should aspire to.

So, as some of the animals awaken, and some of the animals go to sleep, we’re left pondering about our souls to keep.

We do not know what will happen next, or what kinds of effects those may have down the line.

But I, on this particular day, am ready to take the next leap- forward, onward.

That, I believe, is how everyday should begin: Uncontaminated.  Pure.  Endless Possibilities.  They’re just up ahead.

Dzemma ban

 

Walked with Cassidy,
Ashley, Mary-Lee (and her co-worker, Natalee),
With Mo, Sarah and Ary, who’s a member of a Greek family.
Oh!  I nearly forgot about running into my old, good buddy randomly,
The middle sibling of three variety:
Mr. Zachary.
Strolled through the Museum of Natural History,
Ketchupy, mustardy, oniony $2.00 hot doggy
Near Central Park West(erly).
We walked to find a water park most watery.
Instead, I found the Reservoir of Jaquelin Kennedy.
On a bench in the shad-did-diddy-ly-shadey,
Slidin’ back the plastic on some of Devin’s cheddar of the utmost cheesy,
Oh, how the taste will be left forever on my sacred memory.
We ended on pizza that wasn’t at all spicy,
And then a big chocolate chip cookie that was far from being icy.
Tired now, from said dinner that was so tasty,
And after a short run to make my train, so as to not upset Daddy,
(Hmmm…just heard a harliess man [a baldy]
Who was talking about a governmental, economical conspiracy theory)
I sat down somewhat sweaty
And met an actor in training at the Boston Conservatory
Who was named Morgan from Edison, New Jersey,
And who, in a moment of comedy,
Reached for the button (the same one as me!)
To help a poor, door-incompetent, older lady,
And then we laughed quasi-wholeheartedly
As our eyes met and we were all smiley-
Hrmp- a nice reflective moment ruined by a pack of drunkies who are horny-
Anyway, this train of a lovely day; this awesomely, interestingly, especially, and sincerely sticky Friday
Took place in the one, the only,
Amazingly, Outstandingly, Superkalafragelisticexpialadociously
NEW YORK CITY!

So now, good night, and may tomorrow be a great day.

Okay?

Dzemma ban

My homeland security, my land of absurdity,
My streets paved with gold and blood.
My soaring, smoking towers, my transmogrified presidential powers,
My incendiary, far-reaching, democratic brotherhood.

My America I am to trust.  Why, what’s all the fuss?
Whatever happened to that bright dream and promise?

My white neighbors strengthen, my blue families weaken,
My red suburban wasteland continually replicates.
My fingertips of expedience, my web-savvy convenience,
My fire-breathing, flag-waving, war-mongering state.

My America I am to trust.  Why, what’s all the fuss?
Whatever happened to that bright dream and promise?

My media’s leftist agenda, my media’s rightist agenda,
My middle men and women all but confused.
My elected (un-)officials, my power-seekers in scandals,
My blazing words hurling all sorts of scathing abuse.

My America I am to trust.  Why, what’s all the fuss?
Whatever happened to that bright dream and promise?

My lame ducks in rows, my (reality?-based) nightmarish shows,
My consumerist, conventional, guaranteed trash.
My starving fellows on the street, my land of plenty to eat,
My ever-burning, faith-valued, green-backed cash.

My America I am to trust.  Why, what’s all the fuss?
Whatever happened to that bright dream and promise?

My eyes are heavy, but my fingers are mighty,
My repugnant, reviled, “un”patriotic reproof all but done.
My country shakily stands as, through the neck, slip the sands,
My words, my tools, are my only truthfully American weapons.

My America I do trust.  But that’s not the fuss.
Whatever happened to that bright dream and promise?
Whatever happened to that bright dream and promise?
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THAT BRIGHT DREAM AND PROMISE?

Dzemma ban

Hmm…

To pool?…

To swim?…

To sink into the vast Nothing of the final change?…

To not end, but rather continue on to what I can’t imagine, for how long I can’t say, for why I dare not care to ask…

To wonder and wander beyond the falling leaves that casually dance through the air and discover a new dimension of being and a new definition of being and a new development of being and a new detention of being.

To what do we owe this unusual state of affairs that forces us to ask the question that compares “now” and the “what-if” of existence?

Why do we unlock the doors of truth with the keys of imagination that never curtail themselves from their unique and pivotal center of focus…

Why can’t we all be what we use to be: Children of simple discovery?
Dzemma ban

Up!  Up I say!  Hoist man
above himself and let him
simply be,
simply dream,
simply live,
and simply see things and people as they are and not as he would want them.
Let the False Mighty fall under theor own weight of falsehood.
Let the Truth Seekers rise through their own lightness of approach.
Let Man embrace and respect his Animal instincts, inclinations and doings, but don’t let him forget he’s a fragile creature in the Sea of the Unknown.
Up!   Up I say!   Hoist man’s
dreams higher and higher,
beyond the miraculous,
beyond the ridiculous,
beyond the frivolous,
beyond the tempestuous nature of man’s reality that has made him
an enemy of himself,
a mockery of evolution,
a slave to unseen, unreal deities and those who wield fear and hatred as emisarries of those baseless creations.

Up!  Up I say!

Hoist man’s
spirit to the Realm of Realization of
his time, his place, his state
and his chaos amidst the chaos of
the natural and unnatural ordered disorders,
the known and the unknown ordered disorders,
the rich and the wretched,
the silent and the salient,
the dreaming damned and the boisterous bellowing bastards of the world
whose very souls will twist and be tormented until this Plague of Confusion is annihilated!
Up!  Up I say!

Dzemma ban
I’m a cunning carnal linguist.
I’ve broached subjects near and far.
I’ve searched for light without respite.
I’m raising that poetic sexual bar.

I’m a cunning carnal linguist.
I’ve plunged myself in deep.
I’ve discovered some ways to titillate my days.
I’m read to share and not keep.

I’m a cunning carnal linguist.
I’ve tongued my fair share of ears.
I’ve circled the space that’s led to that Holy Place.
I’m moving forward without fear.

I’m a cunning carnal linguist.
I’ve played a game or two.
I’ve torn and tussled, mauled and muscled.
I’m not one to shy away from blood-are you?

I’m a cunning carnal linguist.
I’ve enraptured those who aren’t free.
I’ve tried to be what they wanted from me.
I’m certain now they never could see.

I’m a cunning carnal linguist.
I’ve besmirched my fair share of beds.
I’ve done up and down on my wordy merry-go-round.
I’m always looking to get a head.

I’m a cunning carnal linguist.
I’ve broached subjects near and far.
I’ve searched for light without respite.
I’m raising that poetic sexual bar.

Dzemma ban

here’s a toast

Here’s to that thing with the money
that speaks words dripping with honey,
that promises and promises
and brings us all smiles,
that knew, in the end,
that we’d all just be sitting in the aisles,
wondering what could have been.

Here’s to the people who labored
away for weeks to get a taste of that flavor
of the stage, who believed in a joke
about a play that poked
fun at silly actors and fools,
people who have hearts and souls
and wear them on their sleeves every day and night.

Dzemme ban

Hear ye, Hear ye,
The band’s just come in.
They’ve got a show that can blow you away.
We hope you’ll stick around all night and day.
Hear ye, Hear ye,
The ring leader’s a bit thin.
He’s offering penance to those who sway.
I see that retribution is hard to display.
Hear ye, Hear ye,
The time is now and not then.
You’ve got to move to get your work to play.
She’ll only respect you if you stay.
Dzemma ban


I escaped the gray, massive, neon monster of economic machinations-
the cold concrete, the important-minded-
by wheels, by wings, by wayfaring waves to an isolated moment of new-found friendship and kindness.

We met by surprise and laughed in the first moment-

I knew there was something of substance-
at this intersection by the corner of Curiosity Boulevard and Innocent Street.

The blonde, brown-eyed beauty and the dark, hazel-eyed escapee-
we solved each others problems-
in the water, by the sand, under the moon, away from and close to Man’s magically misshapen-ed thrust into the Dark Ages of industrial creation and over-saturated grandeur.

We rinsed the sea away and laid in each others’ souls-
I told you of my moment of nirvana-
showing each other our beastly inclinations.

You toyed with me and shined in the moonlight, all the while smiling away any worries and doubts you ever had-
this was a Moment-
a minuscule flicker of love in this universe of cosmic bafflings and scriptured forebodings.

I miss you already as I head back to Shanghai by wayfaring waves, by wings, by wheels-
back to the gray and cold-
I’ll see you again (perhaps) at a different intersection of humanity and timelessness when we’re just as lost and uncertain of anything except each other.

Dzemma ban

i sleep fla’

mawma, di’n’t you teach me to sleep fla’?
that i wa’n’t one to roll ‘roun’ an’ ‘roun’?
mawma, di’n’t you teach me to sleep fla’?
that i wa’n’t one to sleep a’roun’ an’ a’roun’?

i di’n’t mean ta make ya’ll mad an’ such.
all i wan’ed was to be yer fav’rite girl.
an’ all i di’ was make ya mad an’ such.
an’ i think you’ve lost yer fav’rite girl.

mawma, i hear day say i’m a-have-ta get put down,
and i don’ wan’ to be put down at all.
mawma, i hear day say i’m a-have-to-get laid down,
and i don’ wan’ to be scare’ at all.

i di’n’t mean ta make ya’ll mad an’ such.
all i wan’ed was to be yer fav’rite girl.
an’ all i di’ was make ya mad an’ such.
an’ i think you’ve lost yer fav’rite girl.

mawma, they say i’m a-sleep fla’ foreva
’cause things don’ work out nice an’ right.
mawma, they say i’m a-rest fla’ foreva
’cause things don’ work out nice an’ right.

i di’n’t mean ta make ya’ll mad an’ such.
all i wan’ed was to be yer fav’rite girl.
an’ all i di’ was make ya mad an’ such.
an’ i think you’ve lost yer fav’rite girl.

but, mawma, you di’n’t teach me to sleep fla’,
and so i di’ roll ‘roun’ an’ ‘roun’.
and mawma, you di’n’t teach me to sleep fla’,
and so foreva i’m a-layin’ in the groun’.

Dzemma ban


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