{"id":1032,"date":"2017-04-23T03:35:04","date_gmt":"2017-04-23T08:35:04","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/?page_id=1032"},"modified":"2017-04-24T05:20:36","modified_gmt":"2017-04-24T10:20:36","slug":"poetry","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/literature\/poetry\/","title":{"rendered":"Poetry"},"content":{"rendered":"

Poem of the Poor Man
\nby Charles Dermer (2012)<\/span><\/h3>\n

Don\u2019t give me your kind words, keep your polite phrase
\n<\/span>But a 5 dollar bill will go a long ways
\n<\/span>To helping my children get clothes on their backs
\n<\/span>And move from the slums to this side of the tracks
\n<\/span>To find a bright future and escape from our past
\n<\/span>So stuff it with your false praise<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I can\u2019t eat a \u201cthank you\u201d or chew on a \u201cplease\u201d
\nBut give me twenty dollars and I\u2019ll be down on my knees<\/span><\/span>
\nShining your shoes and saying yassur
\n<\/span>And giving you service and changing your world
\n<\/span>Just don\u2019t make me climb trees<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

But let\u2019s not get cosmic it\u2019s just an exchange
\n<\/span>Of monetary transactions, it\u2019s nothing so strange
\n<\/span>That value is packaged in paper and coins
\n<\/span>And money is congealed power and strength in your loins
\n<\/span>With it you can still get your home on the range<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Trade it for sex or give it to charity
\n<\/span>That selfsame quality gives it its\u00a0rarity
\n<\/span>That the poor man struggling to climb
\nTrying to make it without committing a crime
\n<\/span><\/span>and make his way home through the austerity<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

To America
\nby Charles Dermer (2013)<\/span><\/h3>\n

In the land of plenty\u00a0<\/span>
\nI made my fortune dear\u00a0<\/span>
\nIn the school of thought and action\u00a0<\/span>
\nI made my meaning clear<\/span><\/p>\n

There is no evil, I\u2019d like to believe<\/span>
\nthere is no good, I\u2019m glad to concede<\/span>
\nthere is no heaven, I\u2019m told that it\u2019s true,<\/span>
\nthere is no hell, knock on wood knock on you<\/span><\/p>\n

Milk and honey and wine and beer\u00a0<\/span>
\nThe land of plenty is the land of cheer<\/span><\/p>\n

The place of happiness is all that counts<\/span>
\nAnd if you don\u2019t like it you can count me out<\/span>
\nAnd if you can\u2019t take it, you know where to go<\/span>
\nFirst to heaven, then to hell, and off to her show<\/span><\/p>\n

Where up is down and right is wrong,\u00a0<\/span>
\nand don\u2019t you dare break out in song,<\/span>
\nNow life is long and saints are few<\/span>
\nBut stop and see what we can do<\/span><\/p>\n

Before the end of this paragraph<\/span>
\nShe\u2019s the lady with the loud moustache<\/span>
\nand the guy who always wants to crash<\/span>
\nScheming to make a great big splash<\/span><\/p>\n

He\u2019ll never get what I have though<\/span>
\nEven with all of his dough<\/span>
\nPlus I\u2019ll throw in a 2 x 4<\/span>
\nUntil you find me on the floor<\/span>
\nTrapped beneath an old leaf blower<\/span>
\nAnd a vintage album by Robin Trower<\/span><\/p>\n

There is no power, there is no quest<\/span>
\nThere is no good nor better nor best<\/span>
\nThere is only stop and go<\/span>
\nand wait until you\u2019re a broken floe<\/span>
\nAnd watch your step I\u2019ve got to blow<\/span>
\nSo see you in the morning<\/span><\/p>\n

Milk and honey and wine and beer\u00a0<\/span>
\nThe land of plenty is the land of cheer<\/span><\/p>\n

The land I love is the place I\u2019ll die<\/span>
\nBut not before I touch the sky<\/span>
\nAnd burn my finger on a crimson moon<\/span>
\nAnd follow the lemmings to high cliff swoon<\/span><\/p>\n

Cheese and crackers and rice and beans<\/span>
\nThe land that feeds me is the land that seems<\/span>
\nthe one that really wants me be<\/span>
\nand makes my dreams reality<\/span><\/p>\n

Milk and honey and coke and pot<\/span>
\nThe land of Lincoln is the land that\u2019s got<\/span>
\nAll your dreams wrapped up in thought<\/span>
\nAnd all your hopes lost in a knot<\/span><\/p>\n

Beef and chicken and fried pork rind<\/span>
\nHe always kept with his own kind<\/span>
\nHe kept on to the old work grind<\/span>
\nLast was seen down river cryin\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

Don\u2019t you worry though it\u2019s all okay<\/span>
\nAfter the darkest night is the brightest day<\/span>
\nAfter the hardest rain is the freshest air<\/span>
\nAnd if it\u2019s before the flood we shouldn\u2019t care<\/span><\/p>\n

Milk and honey and wine and beer\u00a0<\/span>
\nThe land of plenty is the land of cheer<\/span><\/p>\n

The land that I will always hold dear
\n<\/span>The place where I will never fear<\/span>
\nThe life where even normal is queer<\/span>
\nAnd every day I\u2019ll shed a tear<\/span><\/p>\n

Of sentimental yearning, an emotional journey<\/span>
\na new day for learning, with the hope of returning,\u00a0<\/span>
\nto become an attorney, before being carried out on a gurney<\/span>
\nAnd file an amicus brief to get some relief\u00a0<\/span>
\nOn behalf of the aggrieved, who\u2019s also peeved<\/span><\/p>\n

That proof of law is not truth of fact<\/span>
\nAnd gracious conduct or lack of tact<\/span>
\nMakes no difference to the autodidact<\/span>
\nOr the users of snake oil and crack<\/span><\/p>\n

So back to beginning and off to the stars<\/span>
\nTo bars and cars and flights to Mars<\/span>
\nand end of time and cosmic flow<\/span>
\nFreedom is the way to go<\/span><\/p>\n

So I doff my hat in gratitude<\/span>
\nAnd loosen up my attitude<\/span>
\nAnd put a bib beneath my chin<\/span>
\nAnd say America! Deal me in.<\/span><\/p>\n

Milk and honey and wine and beer\u00a0<\/span>
\nThe land of plenty is the land of cheer<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Pushing 60<\/i><\/b><\/h3>\n

by Charles Dermer (2013)<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll pave the path\u00a0from death to me<\/span>
\nWith a trail of dollar bills<\/span>
\nI\u2019ll sell my tears to the highest bidder<\/span>
\nAnd blood\u00a0for the biggest thrills<\/span><\/p>\n

For\u00a0death will pass around us,<\/span>
\nAnd move on down the block<\/span>
\nAnd life will be as it once was<\/span>
\nOne less hour on the clock<\/span><\/p>\n

The seasons move on round and round<\/span>
\nThe days they flash right by<\/span>
\nAnd life or what it\u2019s meant to be<\/span>
\nIs just a glimpse in tonight\u2019s sky<\/span><\/p>\n

And she who would make all thing clear<\/span>
\nShows up in a neon sign<\/span>
\nNude review! This means you too!<\/span>
\nSo go fetch your birthday suit<\/span>
\nOr tutu if you\u2019re feeling blue<\/span>
\nAnd do be do, I say to you<\/span><\/p>\n

I woke up once this morning<\/span>
\nAnd a second time just now<\/span>
\nBut let me show you how it\u2019s done<\/span>
\nJust before I\u2019ve got to run<\/span>
\nAnd beat the cars and beat the Sun<\/span>
\nTo go\u00a0home one more time<\/span>
\nTo reach\u00a0home one last time.<\/span><\/p>\n

For if it\u2019s you and what to do<\/span>
\nAnd if it\u2019s round and round we go<\/span>
\nFor if it\u2019s me and what to be<\/span>
\nAnd if you find me set me free<\/span>
\nI\u2019m off to see the show<\/span>
\nI\u2019m off to sell the show<\/span>
\nWhere the\u00a0dreams are made of<\/span>
\nThought clouds in a sea of\u00a0snow<\/span>
\nWhere the\u00a0drums beat time for<\/span>
\nThe band has got to go<\/span><\/p>\n

Ka thum ka thum ka thank ka thinke<\/span>
\nI think therefore I am I think<\/span>
\nReveals my existential wink\u00a0<\/span>
\nAnd track my mind through all the clouds<\/span>
\nAnd shoot my feelings into crowds<\/span>
\nAnd talk about my flexicord<\/span>
\nAnd memory on my motherboard<\/span><\/p>\n

And happiness goes out to sea<\/span>
\nWith baby, me, and Jan makes three<\/span>
\nThe co-ed gives tres bien<\/i> company<\/span>
\nUntil we see it cannot be and go about our<\/span>
\nWay from thee, away from thee,\u00a0<\/span>
\nWell let it be, it had to be,<\/span>
\nAnd yet it is, from now to then<\/span>
\nWith time to stay, make holiday,\u00a0<\/span>
\nAnd send them to the proper-tay<\/span>
\nYou\u2019re so propah<\/i>, she sayz to may<\/span><\/p>\n

Our little ones, all grown up yet,\u00a0<\/span>
\nAnd when\u2019d they reach your mass in stones,<\/span>
\nYour weight in sand, wait here instead,<\/span>
\nAnd do what you\u2019re told, she said in tones,<\/span>
\nThat is, if we all speak with but one voice<\/span>
\nAnd if we speak with one voice then,\u00a0<\/span>
\nwhy not two or 20 phones?,<\/span>
\nAnd why not 3 hundred and twenty two?,<\/span>
\nOr whatever number of voices there are.<\/span>
\nAnd the people fell into chaos, into rubble,<\/span>
\nWretches among men, no laws, no reason,\u00a0<\/span>
\nBrute survival and desire, trespass and false witness,\u00a0<\/span>
\nRaging tiger, brazen liar, all the ins and outs of survival,\u00a0<\/span>
\nAll the ups and downs of a Christian revival (Hallelujah!)<\/span><\/p>\n

The convict clout speaks to us, looks slowly askance,\u00a0<\/span>
\nAnd takes a chance when he makes a glance\u00a0<\/span>
\nDo it though, he\u2019s got to go, but not before you hand off what you owe<\/span>
\nWho you know, and the truth held in a handshake,\u00a0<\/span>
\nThe contact historically made, the contract hysterically laid,<\/span>
\nClasp of bones, muscle-bonded frame, and disheveled men<\/span>
\nShouting \u201cIt\u2019s only a game.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The garden isn\u2019t ready yet, the owner came to say<\/span>
\nYou\u2019ll have to make a change of plans, you can\u2019t stay here today<\/span>
\nThe life you\u2019ve lived will have to go, your very self is nil<\/span>
\nThe men in gray suits say to me, \u201cTrust me with your will.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

If you\u2019re got the courage, you\u2019ll change your ways<\/span>
\nYou\u2019ll fight on to see more weeks and to seem more days\u00a0<\/span>
\nwhen you end this craze, and find your feet,\u00a0<\/span>
\nAnd make a stand, and make your stays<\/span>
\nOn past the road, up past the highways,\u00a0<\/span>
\nAnd even past the next days, and the next<\/span>
\nUntil geologic time takes over, and makes mock\u00a0<\/span>
\nOf all our petty little concerns and conceits:<\/span><\/p>\n

NATURE TAKES NO NOTICE OF YOU<\/span><\/p>\n

And Socrates, and Jesus too,\u00a0<\/span>
\nAnd Marx of course, has got to go,<\/span>
\nAnd in the limits of time, feelings most sublime,<\/span>
\nAnd nature in her aloof all-knowing and unconcerning majesty<\/span><\/p>\n

LOOK ON MY WORKS AND TREMBLE<\/span><\/p>\n

But she says nothing, and appears on a thousand faces,<\/span>
\nTo confuse and bedevil and confound and trick and betray us<\/span>
\nAnd parlay under the dais, the life of the partay.<\/span><\/p>\n

The traitor woke before dawn, put her garb on,<\/span>
\nAnd she walked on down the hall<\/span>
\nShe walked on down the hall.<\/span>
\nShe was followed by two men,<\/span>
\nA priest and an executioner<\/span>
\nLord have mercy!<\/i>, exclaimed the priest, in Latin,<\/span>
\nAnd a third, I forgot, the local tough nut not afraid to inflict a little pain\u00a0<\/span>
\nAnd get things going again and again, but only one on today\u2019s schedule,<\/span>
\nHer name is his mother her name is your sister her name is my father\u2019s brother\u2019s wife<\/span>
\nFirst boy to carry on the name from now until our kind passes from history<\/span>
\nWhich we shall never live to see (by definition)<\/span>
\nWe are in ascendancy<\/span>
\nOr near mid-peak<\/span>
\nOr past the high,\u00a0<\/span>
\nDo we get another centur-eye?<\/span>
\nAmerica is in decline I think, it will not be a pretty thing to behold,<\/span>
\n(But am I talking about myself getting old?)<\/span>
\nA kink, a strutted deformed moment and we fall,<\/span>
\nBut what is there to catch us, a wall?<\/span>
\nForward, march, to hill and haven,<\/span>
\nFrom Kentucky to a Grecian raven,<\/span>
\nWhy talk with meaning, I mean what\u2019s it for?<\/span>
\nWhy not nail it on a door?<\/span>
\nAnd cry with screams and agonies<\/span>
\nJesus, Jesus, please come to me!<\/span>
\nOh God this hurts way way too much,\u00a0<\/span>
\nLet\u2019s turn the page to happier stuff,\u00a0<\/span>
\nOf picnics with the kids, and dining with the folks,\u00a0<\/span>
\nand loving the wife, and taking those tokes<\/span>
\nAnd cheering the blokes for being fans<\/span>
\nOf such a broken-down pathetic good-for-nothing team that only\u00a0<\/span>
\nA bloke could like it; a blokehead you might say, better than\u00a0<\/span>
\nA cokehead, for sure, or an emotionally unstable and juvenile whitebread,\u00a0<\/span>
\nthis will simply not dulia, with corny emotions, a cornucopia of horny corns,<\/span>
\nthorny stems on a rose, thorny rose on a potted plant from Mars,<\/span>
\nkernels of truth in satisfying honey-nut sugar bars.<\/span><\/p>\n

And so the end is in sight, it beckons with beauty,<\/span>
\nBut not before I complete my foresworn duty,\u00a0<\/span>
\nAnd if it\u2019s pain before gain then I choose to abstain\u00a0<\/span>
\nFrom deriving the thriving inconsequential contriving\u00a0<\/span>
\nFrom hill to dale and from dirt to air,<\/span>
\nI\u2019ve lived a life for which there\u2019s no compare,<\/span>
\nFrom top to toe and from eye to tooth,\u00a0<\/span>
\nFrom alpha to omega, from chowline to keggah,\u00a0<\/span>
\nit\u2019s a good journey; we\u2019ll even tip that old beggah,<\/span>
\nWe\u2019ll meet at the park near the booth by the pier<\/span>
\nFor golden gourmet she\u2019ll always be there<\/span>
\nLady Godiva, please let down your hair<\/span><\/p>\n

Charles Dennison Dermer, Jr.<\/p>\n

April 30, 2013<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Poem of the Poor Man by Charles Dermer (2012) Don\u2019t give me your kind words, keep your polite phrase But a 5 dollar bill will go a long ways To helping my children get clothes on their backs And move from the slums to this side of the tracks To find a bright future and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":115,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1032","page","type-page","status-publish","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1032","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1032"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1032\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1054,"href":"https:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1032\/revisions\/1054"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/115"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.charlesdermer.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1032"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}