Category Archives: Naropa
Solstice Gift! free ecopy “Of Pain, Poetry and Pot” One Day Only!
DECEMBER 21, 2013 ONLY!
Hurry over to Amazon.com and download your free ecopy Of Poetry, Pain and Pot, by Breezy Kiefair featuring works from The Art of Breezy Kiefair and Kiefair.com. Don’t own a kindle? no worries…. download Kindle for PC or Amazon Kindle for Android to access the book without purchasing the Amazon Kindle hardware. The Book is free today in honor of the Winter solstice celebration
Of Pain, Poetry and Pot is a poetry book centered on pot written by cannabis activist and artist under the influence of cannabis , Breezy Kiefair. “Of Pain, poetry, and pot.” Is a collection of cannabis centered poetry in a neobeatnik style. It includes updated versions of Allen Ginsberg – Howl and “america”, along with an update on “to whom it may concern” by Adrian Mitchell , a cannabis parody of Rifleman’s Creed and many other poems that are all my own.
http://www.amazon.com/Pain-Poetry-Pot-Breedheen-ORilley/dp/1492830399/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1387652549&sr=8-1&keywords=of+poetry+pain+and+pot
I just published a poetry book with amazon.com…..this is the book cover. It is called “Of Pain, Poetry and Pot”
the electronic edition is still free for one more day folks! Please distribute the following link for people to get their free copy
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00FGF8WUY
“Of Pain, poetry, and pot.” Is a collection of cannabis centered poetry in a neobeatnik style. It includes updated versions of Allen Allen Ginsberg – Howls “howl” and “america”, along with an update on “to whom it may concern” by Adrian Mitchell , a cannabis parody of Rifleman’s Creed and many other poems that are all my own. I hope ya grab your free download while it is available and be sure to lend it to your friends (I have enabled book lending on this piece). Yes, I am aware of the odd format in the table of contents. I assure you that is semi-intentional. and please! Share these links around so the pot poetry can be read easily.
another link for the paperback
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1492830399/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_dp_47gssb1B996P0K2N
What the reviews are saying: (dec 20, 2013)
Customer Reviews
|
excerpt:
A bit of Cancer poetry for thought…
To Whom It May Concern
I was run over by the truth one day.
Ever since the diagnosis I have been this way
So burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer.
Heard the alarm clock screaming with pain,
Couldn’t find myself so I went back to sleep again
So fill my veins with Chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer. Every time I shut my eyes, all I see is pain.
Made a little ribbon to remember all the names
So empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer. I hear they are thinking surgery, hope it’s not my brains.
They’re only gutting fishes for their own personal gain.
So numb my brain with Morphine
empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer. Where were you at the time of the crime?
Ripping up the Hippocratic oath, just to make a dime?
So chain my Life with hopelessness
numb my brain with Morphine
empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer
You put your doctors in, they take their conscience out,
They take the human being and they twist it all about
So take my world away
chain my Life with hopelessness
numb my brain with Morphine
empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer–
Words by The Art of Breezy Kiefair
There is a cure for cancer…
how many beautiful women and men need to be butchered
because doctors want to run from the cure
for the sake of monetary gain?
Related articles
- Give the Gift of Cannabis Art this Season (kiefair.com)
- In ancient tradition, Iranians celebrate winter solstice (latimes.com)
Of Pain, Poetry and Pot
I just published a poetry book with amazon.com…..this is the book cover. It is called “Of Pain, Poetry and Pot”
the electronic edition is still free for one more day folks! Please distribute the following link for people to get their free copy
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00FGF8WUY
the paperback edition is out as well.
http://www.amazon.com/…/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_dp_47gssb1B996P0K2N
“Of Pain, poetry, and pot.” Is a collection of cannabis centered poetry in a neobeatnik style. It includes updated versions of Allen Allen Ginsberg – Howls “howl” and “america”, along with an update on “to whom it may concern” by Adrian Mitchell , a cannabis parody of Rifleman’s Creed and many other poems that are all my own. I hope ya grab your free download while it is available and be sure to lend it to your friends (I have enabled book lending on this piece). Yes, I am aware of the odd format in the table of contents. I assure you that is semi-intentional. and please! Share these links around so the pot poetry can be read easily.
another link for the paperback
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1492830399/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_dp_47gssb1B996P0K2N
excerpt:
A bit of Cancer poetry for thought…
To Whom It May Concern
I was run over by the truth one day.
Ever since the diagnosis I have been this way
So burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer.
Heard the alarm clock screaming with pain,
Couldn’t find myself so I went back to sleep again
So fill my veins with Chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer. Every time I shut my eyes, all I see is pain.
Made a little ribbon to remember all the names
So empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer. I hear they are thinking surgery, hope it’s not my brains.
They’re only gutting fishes for their own personal gain.
So numb my brain with Morphine
empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer. Where were you at the time of the crime?
Ripping up the Hippocratic oath, just to make a dime?
So chain my Life with hopelessness
numb my brain with Morphine
empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer
You put your doctors in, they take their conscience out,
They take the human being and they twist it all about
So take my world away
chain my Life with hopelessness
numb my brain with Morphine
empty out my bank account
fill my veins with chemo
burn my body with radiation
Tell me lies about cancer–
Words by The Art of Breezy Kiefair
There is a cure for cancer…
how many beautiful women and men need to be butchered
because doctors want to run from the cure
for the sake of monetary gain?
Questions?
send a pm through facebook to this profile
email: breezyorilley@gmail.com
snail mail:
Bréedhéen O’Rilley Keefer
P.O. Box 849
Franktown, Colorado 80116
Hannah Hurnard’s “Hind’s Feet on High Places” audiobook video series
playlist on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwc43UiVjiudD0DhoUELBfeHOamG_Hvtj
A set of videos in Tribute to the writing of Hannah Hurnard, “Hind’s Feet on High Places” to Art of Breezy Kiefair i just put music and art to a book that has been a favorite since childhood… my mother used to read me that book…. call it a tribute to her and an introduction of the book to an audience that may otherwise remain unaware of it. I recommend it for anyone with anxiety or PTSD
Preface to the allegory
The Preface chapter to Art of Breezy Kiefair and the Music of Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.
https://plus.google.com/photos/108039434993096331483/photo/5856776704305425106
info on the book: “Hinds’ Feet on High Places” From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Hinds’ Feet on High Places
Hinds’ Feet on High Places | |
---|---|
Author(s) | Hannah Hurnard |
Country | United Kingdom |
Language | English |
Genre(s) | Christian |
Publisher | Christian Literature Crusade |
Publication date | 1955 |
Media type | Print (Hardback &Paperback) |
Pages | 158 pp. |
ISBN | ISBN 0 86065 192 4 |
Hinds’ Feet on High Places is an allegorical novel by English author Hannah Hurnard. Hinds’ Feet was written in 1955 and has become a very successful work of Christian fiction, seeing new editions published as recently as July, 2005.
Plot introduction[edit]
It is the story of a young woman named Much Afraid, and her journey away from her Fearing family and into the High Places of the Shepherd, guided by her two companions Sorrow and Suffering. It is an allegory of a Christian devotional life from salvation through maturity. It aims to show how a Christian is transformed from unbeliever to immature believer to mature believer, who walks daily with God as easily on the High Places of Joy in the spirit as in the daily life of mundane and often humiliating tasks that may cause Christians to lose perspective.
The book takes its title from Habakkuk 3:19, “The Lord God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds’ feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine high places.”
The story begins in the Valley of Humiliation with Much Afraid, being beset by the unwanted advances of her cousin, Craven Fear, who wishes to marry her. The Family of Fearings seems to have some strong similarities to the Addams Family. Much Afraid is ugly from all outward appearances, walking on club feet, sporting gnarled, deformed hands, and speaking from a crooked mouth that seems to have been made so by a stroke or the like.
The Good Shepherd is tender and gentle with Much Afraid, especially in the beginning. However, His many sudden departures may strike the reader as bizarre, given the human penchant to expect kindly souls to never do everything that may be interpreted as rude or as hurtful in any way. Yet, though the Shepherd leaves in a moment, He returns the same way at the first furtive cry of the forlorn little protagonist. “Come, Shepherd, for I am much afraid!”
When Much Afraid intimates that she would love to be able to dance upon the high places as do the surefooted deer, the Shepherd commends her for this desire. In order to accomplish this, he offers to “plant the seed of love” into her heart. At first sight of the long, black hawthorne-looking seed, she shrieks in fear. Soon, she relents, and after the initial intense pain, she senses that something is indeed different in her, though she still looks the same, for now.
Just when the reader thinks that Much Afraid is about to reach the High Places, the path turns downward towards a seemingly endless desert. There is incident with an extremely high cliff that must be ascended by a steep, slippery and very narrow zig-zagging track, with the help of her two companions, Sorrow and Suffering. Then days are spent in a forest that is shrouded in a thick cloud of fog. During this time Much Afraid is sequestered with her two friends in a log cabin. The climax is an unexpected twist that comes as Much Afraid despairs of ever reaching the High Places.
Allusions/references to other works[edit|edit source]
The book bears some stylistic similarities to John Bunyan‘s The Pilgrim’s Progress. The name of the protagonist, Much-Afraid, also appears first in Bunyan’s work.
References[edit]
Bosman, Ellen. “Hind’s Feet on High Places” in Masterplots II: Christian Literature. Pasadena, CA: Salem Press, 2007: 779-782. Bezzina, Christopher Felix. ‘Journey to the High Places. Hannah Hurnard’s Spirituality and the Song of Songs.’http://www.amazon.com/Journey-High-Places-Hurnards-Spirituality/dp/1620320983
___________________
The Chapters:
Part 1: Weeping May endure for a night
Chapter 1 Invitation to the High Places
Chapter 2: Fearing Invasion
Chapter 3: Flight in the Night
Chapter 4: Start for the high Places
Chapter 5: Encounter with Pride
Chapter 6: Detour through the desert
Chapter 7: On the Shores of Loneliness
Chapter 8: On the Old Sea Wall
Chapter 9: Great Precipice Injury
Chapter 10: Ascent of the Great Precipice Injury
Chapter 11: In the Forests of Danger and Tribulation
Chapter 12: In The Mist
Chapter 13: In The Valley Of Loss
Chapter 14: The Place Of Anointing
More Videos to Come soon……
Chapter 15: The Floods
Chapter 16:
Part 2: Joy Cometh in the Morning
Chapter 17:
Chapter 18:
Chapter 19:
Chapter 20:
More Links:
Quotes on Goodreads
http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1128612-hinds-feet-on-high-places
buy the audio book:
http://christianaudio.com/hinds-feet-on-high-places-blackstone-hannah-hurnard
read the book in pdf form:
http://files.tyndale.com/thpdata/firstchapters/978-0-8423-1394-0.pdf
Playlist on Youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwc43UiVjiudD0DhoUELBfeHOamG_Hvtj
___________________
The Chapters on youtube
youtube playlist url: http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwc43UiVjiudD0DhoUELBfeHOamG_Hvtj
Video 1: Preface, Chapters 1-2
The introduction and first chapters, the Music of Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. Chapter 1 Invitation to the High Places
video url: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sNSPAmAb8Uc&feature=share&list=PLwc43UiVjiudD0DhoUELBfeHOamG_Hvtj
~~~—~~~
Video 2: Chapters 3-5
Chapter 3: Flight in the Night
Chapter 4: Start for the high Places
Chapter 5: Encounter with Pride
video url: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXGPUWk0NTA&feature=share&list=PLwc43UiVjiudD0DhoUELBfeHOamG_Hvtj
~~~—~~~
Video 3: Chapters 6-9
Chapter 6: Detour through the desert
Chapter 7: On the Shores of Loneliness
Chapter 8: On the Old Sea Wall
Chapter 9: Great Precipice Injury
video url: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8cc3Va4Z0Ow&feature=share&list=PLwc43UiVjiudD0DhoUELBfeHOamG_Hvtj
Coming soon!
Video 4: Chapters 10-12
Chapter 10: Ascent of the Great Precipice Injury
Chapter 11: In the Forests of Danger and Tribulation
Chapter 12: In The Mist
___________________
Related articles
- About the Name: Hinds Feet on High Places (inthehighplaces.wordpress.com)
- A Lovely Lesson from Much Afraid (bethanyhart.wordpress.com)
- With Hinds Feet in High Places- Moving Forward at Breakneck Speeds/Prophetic Word (missyhood.wordpress.com)
“America” by Allen Ginsberg updated for the Occupation (with Ballad of the skeletons)
“America” and “Howl” by Allen Ginsberg updated for the Occupation and “Ballad of the Skeletons” as he wrote it”
October 28, 2011
America
Breezy Kiefair
America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America seventeen dollars and forty two cents October 28, 2011.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
go fuck yourself with your atom bomb, homeland security and martial law.
Go fuck yourself with your patriot act oppressing true patriots.
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till my muse gives me the words.
America when will you return and be angelic? This world I live in is like a twilight zone episode of America’s greatness of yore
When will you take the wool off of your eyes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you open your eyes to the sick and dying? When will you see that we have value too? When will you correct the stress that kills disabled and working class alike?
When will you be worthy of your 99%
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you transform your spending from defense of oil to your peoples survival?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the dispensaries and get the effective medication I chose over narcotic poison with the same money Uncle Sam is happy to spend on things that make me more ill & could kill me?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
Your human histories made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
My husband has gone underground I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the wild horses let me in their circle, seems horses understand me better than people.
I haven’t read the newspapers for months, I can’t afford the subscriptions and everyday somebody goes on trial for murder. It just reminds me of my murdered kid and justice miscarried..
America I feel sentimental about wildlife and national parks.
America I used to be an nerd when I was a kid and I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet. While reading the free library that is the internet and sharing it with the world.
When I go to town I get supplies and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me eating libraries.
My psychoanalyst thought my logic is perfectly sound and advised me to trust it.
I WILL say whatever prayer I feel like wherever I feel like saying it. Cannabis IS a religious sacrament and a valid use of my first amendment freedom of speech and religion America the constitution is beautiful with a built in process of beautiful change.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations. I am not ashamed.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Grandpa John after he came home from ‘Nam
I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by the mainstream media?
I’m obsessed by the mainstream media.
I read it every day.
Its pages stare at me every time I open my computer to get some human connection.
I read it in the homeless shelters, in the basement of the Tattered Cover Bookstore,
in the basement of the NYC Greyhound station,
in social clubs for the insane in Maine,
In the greyhound station of Cleveland,
in Michigan Libraries
and on back to Denver,
to Union Station.
And I read it still out here in the wild.
Surrounded by nature at the roof of the world where I feel a bit more safe..
It’s always telling me about responsibility. Bankers are serious. Businessmen are serious. Lobbyists are serious. Movie producers are serious. Comedians are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.
My country is rising against me.
I haven’t got a unemployed person’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of minds
an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and
99%’ers occupying my the ground.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underprivileged who live in
my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the medicines that don’t work for me, and the GMO foods are next to go..
My ambition is to contribute to society despite the doctors saying I’m too sick for anything..
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my thoughts are as individual as his
automobiles more so if we planted hemp and made hemp oil returning to his original engine design we could stop worrying about oil.
America I will sell you all that I have just to survive.
America free Marc Emery
America save the Medical Marijuana Community & legalize
America we execute innocent too often they must not die.
America I am the 99%.
America you don’t really want to go to war.
America it’s them bad terrorists
Them terrorists them terrorists and them North Koreans. And them Terrorists.
The al Queda wants to eat us alive. The Al Queda‘s power mad. They wants to take
our cars from out our garages.
Oh my precious oil, must protect the precious oil…
when we can grow an oil far better on the land that is ours & should be so free.
They wants to squash Denver. They needs a edu-ma-cation. Ther wants our
auto plants to go to Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh.. Uncle Sam need big strong workmen at a wage guaranteed to make you weak..
Hah. Them make us all work massive overtime with no overtime pay as I watched my friend get laid off today. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking at the net and social media posts of your people.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts in factories,
I tried factory work already, I’m nearsighted,chronically ill and psychologically unstable anyway.
America I’m putting my bisexual artists research obsessed shoulder to the wheel.
America
Allen Ginsberg
America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for
murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I’m perfectly right.
I won’t say the Lord’s Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over
from Russia.
I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I’m obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It’s always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie
producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.
Asia is rising against me.
I haven’t got a chinaman’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals
an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and
twentyfivethousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underpriviliged who live in
my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic.
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his
automobiles more so they’re all different sexes
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they
sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the
workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party
was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother
Bloor made me cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have
been a spy.
America you don’re really want to go to war.
America it’s them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia’s power mad. She wants to take
our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader’s Digest. her wants our
auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him makes Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers.
Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts
factories, I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.
Ballad Of The Skeletons Lyrics by: Allen Ginsberg
Said the Presidential Skeleton
I won’t sign the bill
Said the Speaker skeleton
Yes you will
Said the Representative Skeleton
I object
Said the Supreme Court skeleton
Whaddya expect
Said the Miltary skeleton
Buy Star Bombs
Said the Upperclass Skeleton
Starve unmarried moms
Said the Yahoo Skeleton
Stop dirty art
Said the Right Wing skeleton
Forget about yr heart
Said the Gnostic Skeleton
The Human Form’s divine
Said the Moral Majority skeleton
No it’s not it’s mine
Said the Buddha Skeleton
Compassion is wealth
Said the Corporate skeleton
It’s bad for your health
Said the Old Christ skeleton
Care for the Poor
Said the Son of God skeleton
AIDS needs cure
Said the Homophobe skeleton
Gay folk suck
Said the Heritage Policy skeleton
Blacks’re outa luck
Said the Macho skeleton
Women in their place
Said the Fundamentalist skeleton
Increase human race
Said the Right-to-Life skeleton
Foetus has a soul
Said Pro Choice skeleton
Shove it up your hole
Said the Downsized skeleton
Robots got my job
Said the Tough-on-Crime skeleton
Tear gas the mob
Said the Governor skeleton
Cut school lunch
Said the Mayor skeleton
Eat the budget crunch
Said the Neo Conservative skeleton
Homeless off the street!
Said the Free Market skeleton
Use ’em up for meat
Said the Think Tank skeleton
Free Market’s the way
Said the Saving & Loan skeleton
Make the State pay
Said the Chrysler skeleton
Pay for you & me
Said the Nuke Power skeleton
& me & me & me
Said the Ecologic skeleton
Keep Skies blue
Said the Multinational skeleton
What’s it worth to you?
Said the NAFTA skeleton
Get rich, Free Trade,
Said the Maquiladora skeleton
Sweat shops, low paid
Said the rich GATT skeleton
One world, high tech
Said the Underclass skeleton
Get it in the neck
Said the World Bank skeleton
Cut down your trees
Said the I.M.F. skeleton
Buy American cheese
Said the Underdeveloped skeleton
We want rice
Said Developed Nations’ skeleton
Sell your bones for dice
Said the Ayatollah skeleton
Die writer die
Said Joe Stalin’s skeleton
That’s no lie
Said the Middle Kingdom skeleton
We swallowed Tibet
Said the Dalai Lama skeleton
Indigestion’s whatcha get
Said the World Chorus skeleton
That’s their fate
Said the U.S.A. skeleton
Gotta save Kuwait
Said the Petrochemical skeleton
Roar Bombers roar!
Said the Psychedelic skeleton
Smoke a dinosaur
Said Nancy’s skeleton
Just say No
Said the Rasta skeleton
Blow Nancy Blow
Said Demagogue skeleton
Don’t smoke Pot
Said Alcoholic skeleton
Let your liver rot
Said the Junkie skeleton
Can’t we get a fix?
Said the Big Brother skeleton
Jail the dirty pricks
Said the Mirror skeleton
Hey good looking
Said the Electric Chair skeleton
Hey what’s cooking?
Said the Talkshow skeleton
Fuck you in the face
Said the Family Values skeleton
My family values mace
Said the NY Times skeleton
That’s not fit to print
Said the CIA skeleton
Cantcha take a hint?
Said the Network skeleton
Believe my lies
Said the Advertising skeleton
Don’t get wise!
Said the Media skeleton
Believe you me
Said the Couch-potato skeleton
What me worry?
Said the TV skeleton
Eat sound bites
Said the Newscast skeleton
That’s all Goodnight
Related articles
- What Would Allen Ginsberg Think of Occupy Wall Street? (bigthink.com)
- An Obscene Howl ?? (nfaa.wordpress.com)
- HOWL on screen and Ginsberg at 85 (carolinemarycrew.wordpress.com)
- Allen Ginsberg, Poetics Practicum packet, c. 1995 [pdf]. (wewhoareabouttodie.com)