Poetry: May 27, 2009

A fistful of nothing, 
A chest full of rage 
If I knew my rights, 
I’d act my age.


IF I FOLLOW, 
I SWALLOW, 
AND I CAME TO SPIT. 
Like an asp, in Colorado 
I won’t take shit 
The pious act with bias, 
(like the Somali pirates, 
who picked the right boat 
but the wrong time 
to try us), I take the 
Alphabet, and like 
Alpha, chew it 
bit by bit, I settle 
my mind with it. Now 
try this on for 
circumcise, 
Straight from the 
Dragon’s mouth, 
BULLETS DO 
NOT COMPROMISE 
(and neither does an ‘ouch’) 
Or otherwise they’d fit 
in a diplomatic pouch. 
I will share your power 
But I won’t share mine, 
At least from where I sit. 
Now, PROVE YOURSELF 
OR LOSE YOURSELF 
and let the hammer fall. 
Take what you must from the hit, 
just do not drop the ball. 
What time itself witnesses, 
time itself recalls. 
!


Marco Polo went solo 
And got caught by a bolo 
Punch, and like that, lost 
His lunch. He might have 
Followed his hunch, and left 
The boat while moored, or he 
Might not have gotten floored 
By some drunken ham fisted 
Pirate whose parrot was bored 
And insulted the foam baring 
Sirens servicing the sea faring Lord 
Who may now sail on towards 
Togo, settle into a tall night’s tale, 
Absorb the damp of moist young 
Thighs, drop his sword, create a logo.


Resentments last while they last 
Until the final trumpet blast 
Or, until the prairies, through 
The winds, their whistling 
Portraits passed. 
Cornbread and her pastries, 
Like sodden fields and their daisies 
Will fill the mind, until the time 
The words become more tasty 
(I know what it’s like to hate me), 
So I raise from the road, the victims 
Crashed, those not too far crazy. 
And who are you that I must 
Walk in your hell, to answer 
The sounds of silence, outcast, 
But never the tone of the bell? 
Perhaps I’m too lazy. 
Though when my mind goes, 
‘Generally’, 
I go with it, just as wherever 
Captain Wilson goes, he’s 
Followed by Major Pickett 
(though he never travels with his 
‘stash’, that would be insipid).


Even the stars that crash, 
Still consent to burn. 
And banned from going higher 
They reach more deeply within 
Themselves to steady their fever 
With fire.


JOIN ME IN MY HOURGLASS! 
At least before my time has passed 
(and the sands prepare my grave) 
Without you, it’s like ALCATRAZ 
And I have no birds to save. Sans cage 
We are but books of numbers, just let 
Me do your math. The sandman seals 
Our slumbers and fallen trees amount 
To lumber, whose grains will weep 
At a carpenter’s wheel. And made to 
Hold and frame, the hours whose crystals 
Reach out for your name. Join me before 
The sun gets jealous, or before the 
Moon in her swoon becomes overzealous.


It takes an army 
To alarm me
From time 
To time 
We back up 
But we never 
Back down.


Well, if true the chickens come home to roost
By the time they got to my yard, they need a boost
I assumed they were corn fed, so fed them some grain
While in the meantime I finished my touch up with Proust
And while they got fat, the scales they tripped would gain
While I skipped the chip on the shoulder of the rooster that remained,
Who seemed intent on guarding his pride, and seemed willing to
Trade it for life denied, but I had a yard to maintain. Somewhere
A goatherd is playing his horned ones the flute, I’m about 
To silence the morning crow bird and give his beak the boot.


COPYRIGHT SANANDA MAITREYA
MILANO 27th MAY 2009
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

INTELLECTUAL COPYRIGHT PROTECTED