si
lence
rattled 60s
songs off the
granitesque smooth shelf
in my mind’s echo chamber
.
and
the invisible guy there, my witness
decides to blog it all
under a new
name
&
he
says
oh my,no:no
debonair today,
no petit-burgeoise again
{coz
this time baby
he – no I – mean business}
&
soon
the scene
swells with
regret’s shadows
all too familiar again
recalling crisp green spring’s
lettuce-like opening to the young
rascals’ “Groovin”
regaling in this
one little echo
we all agreed
to call this, a
moment,now
how real
o, my-
o
.

*

Dedicated to Mulla Nasruddin

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Borneo’s Warriors liked talking heads

Well, prickheads wi’ bitcheads on a stick -

How that news went – NOW hear their crap flow?
An’
Howse your blue eyed boy (6) there, now, lil Mick?

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.

Investigative reporters died their hard death
A battle won without a single lil arrow,(1)
But
The greatest ability is to see through apprearances: (2)
Iranian C802s outfly our lil Sparrows. (3)

.

.

O
Call me just a fool, some ole patriot
Waltz me around the world a lil while
Gie me a taste of the way it was
Once
Whilst the sunshine still finds his smile…

.

.

So
Remember the lesson from ole’ Borneo
Talkin’ heads had a thing or two comin’ -
An’
Remember Kipling’s wariness,too, of the Pashtu an’ shamans-
Like Greeks bearing gifts a-singin’ an hummin’…

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Notes

1. Sun Tzu Bing Fa  (Shandong Poet Sun Tzu, The Art Of War living in the Spring and Autumn Period of China  approx 650 bce)
2. Dhammapada Buddhist Pali Canon
3. Trento, Secret History, http://dcbureau.org/20100310340/National-Security-News-Service/the-secret-history-part-ii-the-c-802-cruise-missile-how-the-cia-left-the-navy-defenseless-against-an-iranian-missile.html; et al.;especially http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/world/china/c-802.htm
and
http://www.fas.org/man/dod-101/sys/missile/row/c-802.htm
4. Hopefully no intro necessary for the legendary Mulla Nasruddin
5. Kipling, Rudyard  (1865-1936) Poet, much time in Afpak areas who said among other things it was better to save one last round to kill yourself (I think he said into the ear) if the hordes of Afghani (women) are coming for you. http://www.online-literature.com/kipling/

6. blue eyed boy  - from e e cummings   “Buffalo Bill’s Defunct” poem, (“blueeyed boy”) http://www.boppin.com/cummings.html

XB

All Rights Reserved
Copyright 2010

Author
bgflanagan

copyright 2010

all rights reserved

our watercolours fade cruelly today
not from the huffing spring mists
with their green taunting
moist licks

nor with startled tears which
almost flap our sweet little linen folio
into the strings of memory’s winds:

from
that day
spring was our fire,
ours so firm, only ours fanning the
defiant Azeri flames out of the blind sands
when we gleefully splashed across the boulevard
back into the retreat
of our blankets

now our colours, once a tight flock of starlight
coalesce to dull gouache here and there
and alone I caress the edges thanking
the darkness for its mercy, of
returning to candle-pitch
its black flows

now I hold in my mind’s hands this masterpiece
which we did craft so very insanely
knowing that we made it through

without
discovering if anything
sprouts on the other side
of love

for
I
know
we don’t care

by
.
BG Flanagan©2009 USA, Azerbaijan, PRC

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.

I.

O
the
pain
today

here with my not expensivest not cheapest
expresso machine spitting out
my second cup:

this morning, early riser me
in possession of the big picture, me

I
steal
the tender
rosy moments
of lil dawn away
into my dirty jeans
pockets stuffed with
promises I have
eagerly made
omigod how
many

they brim
these pockets.

II.

an’
I do
wonder:
did they take it,
did they utter the hippocratic oath

“Do No Harm First Physician”
did they, who bombed
they who attacked/packed/stacked/sacked Iraq
stilletto staccatto
humpin thumpin
M60 weapon of choice over stone throwing youths
Did they remember they were
the physicians
rendering
surgical strikes
enacting regime change?

‘n
I do
wonder
were they
proud to be uniformed
and uninformed search
and destroy agents of wannabe neocon armageddon
‘n all I wanna know is for who for what
did they go over there in the first place ‘n
most of all the biggie question is well blood, WHY?

III.

Some
one amongst
the goodole ‘merikan
ultraviolence
said
on
one
puce day
’bout ’2004
somewhere in bugaloo Baghdad perhaps
he
or she
said, beholding the sacking of the museums
the torture of the innocents
the return to life before the 1800s
oh
the
humanity
o

the
agony:
yes an all this n more:

he
/she said:
the apprentice has left; behold
the master is here
amongst the spent uranium tank shells
death skull teeth glowing radium in
the pale puce twittering twilight
desert noon
Yes all this n more

IV.

an’
how
convenient
here in ‘Merica
to sip my easy second cup
of expresso highnote thinking
how nice it would be to have bought
the most expensive expresso machine
the one with 5 gizmos
with built in steel sharp grinders
the one with steam pressure
you never ever touch:
the one at Bloomie’s
the one which makes
my coffee before
I get my bigfat
‘Merican ass
outta bed
03:30

.

yes

all this

‘n more.