Translate

JoeC's original poetry and photos about life and all things under the sun.

Search This Blog

Tuesday, June 20, 2017



Chant "Fight!" Chant "Right!", loud shouts and more!
Tyrant war always raises its cruel head,
Arrest the world ere it reach a perilous shore,
Raging waves rush brazenly in war's ugly stead.

Cultivate your hate, anger mired in your hardened hearts,
Yet horrid hate shall punish thee and weary your fruitless ways,
Under a weeping sky goodness must surely be torn apart,
Anger troubles a tortured moon with a lifetime of hateful days.

Pray for salvation, perhaps a pure white dove,
Hope for peace and good earth, hope for the blazing sun,
Kneel and bow forever singing, searching for blessed love,
Wish radiant sunshine, for surely this ragged age is far from done.

Solicit deliverance, trust God open his mighty ear and hear,
Voracious hunters forever prey, requital hounds calm placid waters,
Condition sustains hungry predators, whales and minnows brace in fear,
God remits, covering divine ears and eyes, shirking all these human matters.

Where is goodness? Some corner where brilliance resides?
Is heaven simply some mystic myth or other daring dream?
Will virtue reveal itself, perhaps continue to cower or shyly hide?
What divine hymn can angels sing as right is swept away in a conscious stream?

Nail my stoved in head upon a monumental rock,
Rest my deaf right ear on some ancient glacial erratic,
I listened, patient as a cooing night hawk spiraling with its flock,
Quivering I sensed a nervous quaver, as Mother Earth spelled enigmatic.

On Turtle Island, this once hard shell has curled at the edges and softened,
Crossing oceans, across each vast deep bog, people waste their precious lives,
Wood ducks fall and fail, smother beneath drowned cottonwoods, the case all too often,
Plovers topple on desolate shores like broken sticks, mirroring desecrated beehives.

Gaze into the blinding angry sun, stare hard and long enough,
Miraculously an untainted blue Angel shall ceremoniously appear,
Hey Hey! Hey Hey! Blazing father sun! Resiliently pure, so extremely rough,
Hey Hey! Hey Hey! Ceremony, miracles and blue angels, forever dear.

Epiphany comes knock knock knocking,
Chanting Hey Hey! Hey Hey! Dripped like wax in this molten faze,
Holy drumbeat! Master sun invokes sacred names as he is talking,
Silent dew drops condense through a transparent evening haze.

New days surely dawn! Profundity shall mark this cosmic tale,
Reach each oceanic surge, death shall cleanse the ailing earth,
Anger and loss, frustration and disillusionment shall not prevail,
Through some mystic maze, beyond dark ages there shall be rebirth.

Power! Hey Hey! Resurgence! Hey Hey!
Oh burning sun! Oh blazing raging sun!
Chant, "Hey Hey!" Sing, "Hey Hey!",
Ceremony marks the holy path, Earth's sacred run.

Conjure good medicine, dream healing remedy,
Smudge and smoke! Salutations! Wave away all our earthly sin!
Nothing holds us back, nothing chains us to calamity,
Springs gush! Washing o'er us, delivered by some sacred kin!

Imagine depths, into spiritual deep, above the raging waves. Rise up immortal!
Take a ready stance, dance with Holy thunder! Rejoice within your Sacred heart!
Holy cows kneel before Isis with what she taught us, revealing that heavenly portal!
Worship daily for a great slaughter is coming, severing each and every physic part!

Common joy blessed, adorned with its common attire,
Surrounding nature and existence with purity and blood,
So you've witnessed calamity, the catastrophic fire,
When will war and wrath, come the final tragic flood?

Shall the devil himself dwell within you? Salvation!
Cast out hateful demons steeped in your watery mind and heart,
Such holy power! Prayers you own, like intuitive thought!  Ablution!
Yet moon and sun and stars, beloved earth, all Creation's sacred part.

Revelation stands before us, that sacred tree we call life,
Abide in holy Eden, in that garden God shall ne'er be cast out or hide,
Ra showers us with light, yet severs us from heaven with his cosmic knife,
Cloaked in darkness by the fearless night, trepidation ne'er subsides.

For the life of me I don't know how we journeyed here,
With the death of us I don't know the path, or where we're going.
So how doth this make thee feel? Why be there so much arduous fear?
Blood drips from our worldly wounds, still a blessed wind is blowing.

Nothing really matters, nothing ever matters,
Immense as the Universe, as small as a miniscule speck,
Swimming through this sea of adversity, all in bits and tatters,
Imbibing poisoned water like soda pop on what was to be a sacred trek.

Oh Holy of Holies! Crawl on bleeding knees into blessed places,
Goddess reveals lost sacred traces, midst all these pressing things,
Devils and demons desecrate the world and so many ancient places,
Razing all Earth's precious singing forests and sacred singing springs.

We are precious everything and we are priceless nothing,
We are the Universe, yet we are but a single atom in God's hand,
We fumble laughing, tumbling hysterically, we stumble crying,
Elephants trumpet roaring lions, copulating in Creation's blessed hand.

Sunday, June 18, 2017



Sappho, in a single word.
Lesbian world unfurled.
Why not lesbians?
Why not more lesbians!
Population control tool, of sorts.
Reduce friction, conserve marmalade.
Love? What love? Free love?
Let lesbian love be heard and seen.
Why not more love?
What is love, but marmalade,
Without bright orange peel,
Or burnt toast, nor bland unsweetened gruel,
No butter nor margarine,
No virgin oil at all, and no pits,
But heavy on the lemon rind,
Kind of sour and bitter at times,
But desirable and best when chilled,
With pink grapefruit juice,
And other flavourful liquid or fluid,
Body juice, oral juice,
Juice from the source,
Juice from the deep well,
Juice of love and juice of mango,
Dripping wet with emotion,
But never frigid, nor glacial,
Dribbling wet through rose coloured glasses,
Running love's rampant race,
No disgrace or about face,
Out of every orifice,
Frothing like a cold soap stream,
Bubbling like a hot soda spring,
Dessert at the end of the day,
Where two legs meet,
Kissing two lips,
Cooing adoration,
Dipping and diving into pink gum,
All those wonderful lesbians,
With their flirting eyes,
Keeping toying men at bay,
Using toy men for raucous play,
Making males ponder and wonder,
If only there were more moaning than cooing.
Why all that preponderance?
Such a delight in the soft moonlight,
Bliss in the carnal morning,
Before an early breakfast or work,
For lunch and brunch,
Enjoyed during afternoon tea,
Served like, before dinner cocktails,
That hour of solace, yet fun,
When red wine turns white under the blistering sun,
Two arms entwined,
Two hearts beating the band,
Four eyes drinking in a heady atmosphere,
All that wondrous girl love,
Leaving men far behind, crying in the dark,
Male parts hung out to shrink and dry,
Like wet pyjamas,
Drenched with morning cum,
As lovers twist and twine in a columbine of flowery light,
Ne'er reminded of those horrid boys that teased them,
No appeasement in the anxious school yard,
Ere that ring of the silent bell,
Before naked puberty took its toll,
Ere diction resolved connotation,
Before lust won out,
All those lesbian hormones,
Dancing outside denoted bedroom lines,
Bare feet pirouetting across that shimmering zone,
While breasts swell with expectation,
Whilst all the stars in the universe collide,
Culminating in swaddling cloaks,
Castigating the randy snorting bull,
Castrating the anxious bleating ram,
Cavorting bad girls escaping the harem,
Counting all the pros and cons,
On one hand, then the other,
On her left foot, then her mother's right,
Only to find the Sheik's pearl eye hath been blinded, 

Plucked out and deaf to every gem,
Opposing royal emerald ears,
 Mute to every sugar daddy tone,
Yet mastery and brilliance is magnified ten fold,
By some marvelous females radiating illumination,
That men and bastards can never rightly understand,
Which torrid lust and romance will envy at times,
While the heated beast in all of us wishes was our own.

Saturday, June 10, 2017



Poem for Anita

Oh steadfast sun!
Oh faithful sun!
If only friends and lovers could be like you,
Honest in your devotion, so very true,
Never ending rays, always bright and never blue.
Yet with that in mind, a kind blistering sun!
Oh sunburnt man!
Sometimes those rays that sooth, they betray all fun!
Oh blistered man!
When you finally wake and move,
Recant the day, those sordid kisses crying in some wretched groove, 
In the dark and all alone, before the coming dawn,
Standing naked, shivering under a persevering waterfall,
Realizing everyone and everything you loved is gone,
All those sun dreams you dreamt, wondrous thoughts so grand and very tall,
Ripping open your abject heart, discovering what might truly yet be there,
Mem'ries you find, worshiped bits and pieces that hope once called,
Fragments of what once was, things at times seemed so good and fair,
Still you sit pondering, under the burning mortal sun,
All alone rehearsing love poems and songs, as if some immortal cared.
Thus you woke again, wearing an expectant hopeful guise,
All that desire and optimism you frankly shared,
Blurring hopeful vision, flooding your unbelieving eyes,
While familiar rivers of words, accompanied by endless tears, always run,
Until another bitter day is finally settled and thankfully done,
Still somehow, something better dared,
While all that something, however uncertain it was,
Rested all that pain and sorrow, all those fatal flaws,
Appeasing weeping wounds, easing blistered scars, left by an indifferent sun.