milosevic

milosevic
was doing what he thought was right
but horrible fright
and rape camps
stamped across a young girl's eye
she wanted to die
he wanted to be an ultra nationalist
and create an empire
a simple narcissistic liar
and a mass murderer
with a driven wife
who had a complicated life
changing opinions everyday
killing afternoon teas
with sugar, please
torture in the mountains
skeletons found
underground bound
broken arms around the trees
holding dead babies
with sugar, please

Assad is now in Moscow drinking

nothing here about GOD
or evangelicals or even Mormon polygamists
in southern Utah with a child bride
nothing to hide
behind or conceal

as i age while attempting to heal

Assad is now in Moscow drinking:

what is he thinking

as he looks constantly over his back

for the assassin who's job was to track

the tyrant to his grave

this is not meant to be a blog
where i'm preaching about myself
or nature or Earth
it may in fact have no worth
& i'm okay with that having already fought one war
in Vietnam a long day ago
which now feels like a shadow

before the twin towers fell and ground zero cast a spell
deep into the mountains of eastern Afghanistan
when i didn't understand
the CIA 

or wall street executive pay

no, this isn't about food or being intentionally rude
& not about global warming
or locusts swarming
or how mankind has finally found
freely & unbound
his soul and his Redeemer

i am not the schemer
nor will i use sleight of hand
to lead a lonely hearts club band
into my small white town

Damascus has fallen down

and the Mosque tower is now calling

the faithful to prayer

is there enough for all the Middle East people to share?

but there is nothing here about GOD

OR maybe there is 

and it's everywhere,

which only seems fair

after the many many years of terror and bloodshed.

the closet door

you worked real hard
playing me
inside the closet door
but nothing more
i was your dime store buy
so casually you'd try
to come up to my room
with flowers in your bowl
like fingers
digging into my soul
& our shared secrets in bed
fell out and totally bled
you took me for granted
like a seed that was planted
and measured me
like a disposable chew
what was i to do?
i was in love with you.
you looked real good
deceiving
my head alive with hope
growing tougher to cope
as i heard your stories
of love and glories
come up to my room
with romance at the start
like fingers
digging into my heart
& our shared secrets in bed
fell out and bled
you took me for granted
like a seed that was planted
and measured me
like a disposable chew
what was i to do?
i was in love with you.

save us from this killing beast!

Roosevelt, Churchill, Stalin,

Potsdam, Yalta, Tokyo and Berlin 

South Korea and Mao and for the other guys somehow 

this is important 

without the atomic bomb but with the Marshall Plan 

and the German wall

before the fall 

Seoul overrun by Kim with a quick plan for victory to Pusan 

foiled

& the Great March forward somehow spoiled 

by stiff US resistance and blood and guts and honor

and then Truman, McArthur and the Yalu 

long after Nagasaki but who really knew 

what Eisenhower was about to reveal?

yes, the military industrial complex was designed to steal 

what even the CIA didn't understand 

or the KGB as they used to say 

back in the Cold War day 

alongside Fidel Castro (but he's now dead, too) as is the Shah

and Ayatollah Khomeini,

who didn't understand containment so said let the revolution begin 

with Iran 

and Venezuela and Hezbollah 

the oil flows spelled mister moolah in a brave new world 

with Huxley golf courses in the sky and 

the fervent Taliban who hate women, 

who want control more than sex 

Man as the new T-Rex!

not the woman in flames or whatever else remains 

beyond Marines in central Baghdad or the Chinese in Senegal 

they're unlucky enough to want it all: 

prayer flags flutter in a Himalayan wind.

the soul of Tibet, the Dalai Lama, without a bed

in his native-born country said, 

Peace on Earth (at the very least) 

save us from this killing beast!

and now the orange monkey and Putin,

rip roaring with their guns out shooting

Greenland overtaken and Ukraine

Taiwan a chip in the poker game

robots working the factory floor

Orwell's vision of a constant war

has overcome the hopes for lasting Peace:

save us from this killing beast!

be my valentine

"i think i'm gonna make it through just fine
won't you be my valentine?"
you read the words & wished it true
the soldier would come back to you
in Springtime with his flowering smile
he'd pick you up and squeeze awhile
your thin and fine young lady breast
closer to his young man chest
you held his letter in your hand
and feared it was a grain of sand
slipping to the kitchen floor
where it would likely be no more
"i think i'm gonna make it through just fine
won't you be my valentine?"

he died in ambush just past nine
his wet clothes still hanging from your line
a box with ribbons and other stuff
arrived much later but it wasn't enough.

in time

an old wooden cart
was pulled by two draft animals
as two wheels spun
in time to the passing of the sun
scoring music, conducting art
while Mozart on his cresting wave
of enlightenment and fire
tossed tools to a valley slave
for thought and even higher
the speed of universal light
being true to natural law
was bent in time beyond his sight
but not beyond recall
as two wheels spun
in time to the passing of the sun

what do i say?

the pale blue dot
a point of light
still in balance
between what is right
and misunderstood
with rivers of blood
and tides of gloom
marching armies
bringing death and doom
instead of what is great and good
tell me, what do i say
if i'm asked today?
what should she teach her children?
& if they disagree, would i care?
is it my responsibility to be everywhere
there is a special need?
another open mouth to feed?
a human with malcontent
maybe even murderous desire
in a belly full of hate
eyes aglow with wicked fire
and dreams of religious empire
tell me, what do i say
if i'm asked today?
am i a Christian or a God
Jew or Muslim or naked man
running from the garden tree
toward a sweetly scented land?
regard the thin atmosphere
both far and fragrantly near
spinning around our simple Star
in a cosmos where all words
bounce away from where they are
to settle on an unhealed scar
tell me, what do i feel
the moment i find to kneel
and pray?
tell me, what do i say?

Dear Mr. Hoover

Dear Allison,

Thank you for the kind letter
acknowledging my military service
to our country, the United
States of America. I do wish to
say, however, that I'm not sure
upon reflection if I was a brave
young man. I went to a far-away
land called Vietnam, in 1969.
There, the people were mostly farmers whose
favorite food was rice, which they grew.
They spoke a language I could not speak, and
I tried to learn, but wasn't very good.
Sometimes I felt afraid, especially at night
when there were unexpected noises, strange shadows,
and the loud sound of rifles being used.
I met many people and they were mostly friendly
and beautiful, with big smiles on happy faces.
Yes, I did volunteer for the army and if I helped
keep people in America safe, I am grateful.
I love this land, because it is your land and it is mine.

Again, thank you for the kind letter, Allison.

by
Greg Hoover

in military hands

taps for Fort Hood
on the sad shoulder of a weeping country
firm and good
the melancholy chords
drift underneath the raised
and sharpened swords
in military hands

taps for the dead
on the still unanswered Sargeant Major call
Honor said
that silence calls the name
of soldiers laid to rest
and they remain
in military hands

the ghost

i know what you're thinking.
Charlie the dog
by the back door
rubbing a shadow on the floor
with his tiny tongue
could not smell your disappointment

but it was to be all or nothing.
the fall leaves keep falling
into the pond
where they would bond
with the surface tension of water
and struggle to stay afloat

you have always been truthful.

i kicked around in the kitchen
re-facing cabinets and myself
wondering if the shelf
in the closet would hold my weight
when i gave up the ghost

you have cared for me too much.
i tried to walk
in your trail shoes
reading a section of the news
but was overwhelmed
by the lines of my indifference

she's

she's got pins in her nose
white ears silver toes
chocolate lips on her face
and candy boys in her case
that go wherever she goes
she's got fire in her hair
a hot whiskey stare
heavy songs in her head
grinding urgent in bed
she's more than happy to share
'cause she's the new girl tonight
higher than a kite
bright in her fancy Irish sky
like sweet strawberry pie
not a stranger in sight
she's a special delight

and I always die

what the fuck was it all about? 

"piss off!" i heard them shout 

it's Hiroshima 

with a blinding atomic storm 

early August trees smoking and torn 

Los Alamos created pieces of despair 

melting human skin in super heated air

and no United Nations to give a shit or care:

there are shadows torched against a crumbling wall

and i'm expected to forget i saw??

damn, applause rose from across the Pacific

from bar stools who thought it was terrific:

i still see the survivors pointing bony fingers

at me and i always die.

Operation Restore Hope

Blackhawks rising
in the late afternoon
near the Indian Ocean
and the waters of Half Moon
where the invasion beach
without a passing thought
to the mighty swell
of brave men who fought
in Mogadishu
sits under a Somali sun
without arrogance
without a single gun
without ambition
to restore hope
for the hopeless hungry
as Rangers on their rope
found a white-hot scream
& the road to Hell
paved with good intentions
over the many lives that fell
in this alley of death
the market devoid of heart
each corner a dance with madness
exploding sanity apart

Louise Gluck

sad and strange off the range beyond the boundary fence where you rest with barely a lick of sense Louise Gluck sad and slick in your metered brain teaching poetry under the driving rain of New England where you stand with sharp words and fate heavy on a wounded heart the cemetery gate opens as you wander by closes when you shut one eye a skeleton with bones raw white rises to kiss your lips tonight

FOX NEWS

how is it possible
that FOX NEWS is not news
it's like saying green is yellow
& blacks are really blues
as consumers we must choose
look at realness dead in its eye
like a fundamentalist Sunni
who'd prefer nothing than to die
embracing his history of Islam
by making himself a personal bomb
& declaring his faith to Allah
how is it possible
that Pakistan is a military
and not a country
isn't this scary
considering their nuclear warheads
are out of sight
not out of mind
where is the Mullah who's said to be blind
who had fought the Russians
in Afghanistan
allied with the Taliban
who killed diplomats from Iran
and were honored
how is it possible
Omar is at sea
in the tribal mountains drinking tea
like the British in India
when empire was at hand
we need to understand

the county fair

it's a summer night at the county fair
& the old yellow bus is going nowhere
thirsty drunks in a party mood
drinking booze & eating food
kissing Mary Jane up high
waiting for her warm reply
on a football night lined up for scores
male touchdown runs behind closed doors
as Priscilla and her flower girls
show the party boys sweet natural curls
their hungry kisses a starving shout
& the big bad boys just hanging out
it's a summer night at the county fair
old folks watching from a wicker chair
Hillary's hand in little Willy's pants
before the homecoming game
at their high school dance
sweet Bill Monroe lying to his ma
about sucking up to big Betty's bra
it's a summer night in a church town bar
where the band is playing with an old guitar
their music louder than a wild drum beat
on a sweaty Friday in the summer heat

43

you were caught in the shadow between two lines
blinded by the crowd applause and couldn't read the signs
with arrows to infinity and a moon rise out the door
you told a waiting nation that you'd lead them into war
displaying fresh aluminum and biologic threats
with yellow cake and operatives as secret as it gets
in Poland and Iran or was it Brussels and Milan
smirking as the words emerged La Cosa Nostra con
the bastards at the Pentagon had hoped you knew the score
with little donny rumsfeld sucking madly as your whore
he whittled down the numbers and he sent Marines ahead
in a lightening strike surprise attack to minimize their dead
it was cheney and mr chalibi who lied about the scope
of opposition in Iraq to give reluctant liberals hope
yet no crowds of people tossing flowers on the road
as M1A1 tanks and troops in Baghdad finally showed
it's good to declare victory on an aircraft carrier deck
& then retire to Texas with a lone star on your neck

mother won't you

mother won't you hold me
now closer to your breast
let me cry before the dawn
before i empty this nest
before i lose my soul
on a downtown street
make a fool of myself
for everyone i meet
mother won't you know me
before i die
in a dead cold field
with this strangers' eye
looking at you
in a loose embrace
for the longest time
hungry in haste
mother won't you love me
won't you even smile
ask me to remember
childhood for awhile
won't you wonder
on this side of my pain
how it'd be different
if you did it over again?

the magical word

carmen san diego
jesus is coming to your world
with a long white robe
& painted colors that swirled
on Guantanamo beach
where life's an eastern Muslim peach
Koran & blood on sacred ground
the 4th of July a special sound
heartfelt & sticking around
carmen san diego
madness at the break of dawn
invading Afghanistan
in broad daylight & then gone
to where tribal warlords collect dope
Saddam swung from his bastard rope
& you've got nothing more to say
reciting Bible verses pray
deep into another fateful day
carmen san diego
the CIA hiding in your pants
close by the hidden exit door
with an airline ticket to France
flying from Beirut like an overripe fruit
the magical word is SHOOT
like a missile crazy from Iran
or a nuke from Pakistan
what can't you understand
carmen san diego
jesus is coming to your world

shadow on the floor

why can't you tell me what i've been missing
your door is simply never open
it's just a shadow that i've been kissing
on our dance step with electric feet
the black light searching for your smile
it's just a shadow that i meet
at night behind a tightly shuttered door
i saw you standing on my simple dream
it's just a shadow on the floor
i can't be lovin you anymore
someday i might pack my socks and shoes
find that ring i never want to lose
getting physical in a more physical sense
without the hold of a guilty fence
why can't you tell me what i've been missing
your door is simply never open
it's just a shadow that i've been kissing
it's just a shadow on the floor
i can't be lovin you anymore

God, what should i learn?

i'd really like to see
Tennessee
i'd like to live in an old house
with a rose garden
and a happy mouse
and a yellow kitty
full of pity
i'd really like to be strong
all day long
i'd like to have a gentle man
to understand
how i love living
and giving
and ask for so little in return
God, what should i learn?
i am the dragon and the fish
but this isn't what i wish
i'd really like to be free
of the illness holding me
be with Angel in a village store
i call my own and more
i would sip the moisture from a rose
and feel the red from head to toes
i would stay awake at night
read in bed by candlelight
with my lover strong and proud
together on a floating cloud
above us Heaven for a day
would listen as i pray
i'd really like to see
Tennessee

going home

2012 the Mayan bull
a fancy fad
more wool to pull
in a cinema
on November 12
then collecting dust
on a back lot shelve
while i walk the beach
with a friend of mine
in imagination
on sand so fine
the grains polish skin
rolling out then in
like fine wine softy
on a thirsty tongue
while the song is sung
one footprint before the other
as the wave comes crashing
a single walker dashing
to Oz and the wizard job
a long hard ride away
into a sun easterly
before the end of day
not the end of time

seasons

the seasons change
with a color in the sky
the foghorn blast
a lonely iceberg cry
and heavy mist
which shrouds the eye
the seasons change
with hard music overhead
the drum roll shake
an angry sound instead
of easy pause
& gentle dead
the seasons change
with a feeling in the air
the long goodbye
a lingering Hi there
which slows the day
suggests i care
the seasons change

zodiac signs

i can't find you
looking in gardens and trash
full of hurt & pain
empty of cash
& sun & rain
i want to have eyes
reflecting me
in honest side streets
and fancy free
sexy treats
i want to feel love
in a tomorrow kiss
or later tonight
with happiness
without the cat fight
listening to songs
between the lines
i'm looking for you
but finding zodiac signs
color me blue
i can't find you