Poetry


• Grandmother’s Eyes - Lynette
• The swell of the ocean - Hillary Kaye
• New Lyrics - Spike Marlin and Bill Chappelle
• The Barbarian From The North (for Allen Ginsberg) - Stuart Z. Perkoff
• The Venice West Cafe - Bill Fleeman

Grandmother’s Eyes

by Lynette

Two small holes of brown,
Encased in skin withered by eighty birthdays,
A thousand memories carved onto once-smooth flesh,
Hanging cutaneous bags above the cheeks.

Age clouds the brilliant sepia eyes,
Defines these eyes with a revered wisdom,
Enhances them with elderly reserve,
Eyes looked to for parental guidance
now sitting dry and useless in their sockets,
Eyes plentiful only with reminiscences.

Gazing sullenly from their rocking perch,
Staring out the window of life,
These are eyes of gentle respect,
Surrounded by progeny,
These are eyes of quiet inner reflection,
Recalling an energetic youth,

Pondering their aged status,
Glancing dismally into the future,
These are eyes awaiting death.

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The swell of the ocean
dances
and the time passes
And the sweet sweet morning
becomes full of itself
and is lost to activity
and confusion.
And only a child’s heart
finds large pieces that
are wholy different
and though not firm
live in the spaces
between time.

–Hillary Kaye

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New Lyrics

by Spike Marlin and Bill Chappelle of Lincoln Place

All We Are Saying is Give Us our Homes
(To the tune of “Give Peace A Chance” by John Lennon)
New words by Spike Marlin & Bill Chappelle

Everybody’s talking ‘bout…
AIMCO, BLAMECO, SHAMECO,PAINCO, LAMECO, Going down in FLAMECO.

(All We Are saying is) Give Us Our Homes

Everybody’s talking ‘bout…
Tenants, Seniors, Kids and Dreamers call us Schemers, they’re a bunch of Weiners.

Everybody’s talking ‘bout…
Pot lucks, Love ins, Save-the-building dig – ins, Save the tenants live – ins WIN WIN WIN WIN!

Everybody’s talking ‘bout…
Preservation, Resurrection, Preachers, Teachers, AIMCO is the Creature we need revolution, insurrection ethical correction….

ALL We Are Saying is Give Us Our Homes

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The Barbarian From The North (for Allen Ginsberg)

By Stuart Z. Perkoff

blind as roses
we sit in the evenings in rooms of our own choosing
rooms filled with intricacies of many delicately structured parts
which dazzle & fascinate, & alter appearances & statements
everything with its clear limits
everything marked & classified
all aspects known
all new structures viewed with distaste
everything of the utmost seriousness
what are we to say, then, of a man
who takes off his clothes in someone else’s living room?
are we to applaud?
what is his nakedness to us?
what do we care about his poems
do you realize he is in the lite? how can i
be expected to read?

he makes too much noise!
he says dirty words!
he needs a bath!
he is certainly
drunk!

i hope he soon realizes that it is, after all
now
& we have many wonderful things to amuse us
when we want to see clown
we go to the circus

is he gone yet? can i come out
now?

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The Venice West Cafe

By Bill Fleeman

the venice west
was our church,
a consecrated place
where we went to
say our sacred poems
in honor of the Lady.
where stuart had writ
on the wall a wally
berman quote:
“art is love is god.”

Posted: Sun - January 1, 2006 at 01:18 PM          


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