post fear syndrome

[judih]

my mind loaded to the hilt
buried bats, foul balls, stinking exhaust
unzipped fucks
unrequited passions
deeds hanging by a thread
belt buckles viciously poised

post fear syndrome
psychotic suicidal obsession
upset?! taking remedies for irrelevant maladies

citizenship burnt at the altar
incense tricked tripped seeping through the bathroom door
a trail of yesterday's solutions
evaporating, a stain
of false hope

turn up that goddamn saxophone
volume high the screech of sound
eradicate peace
the crap of diatribe
pass me a fast pome
bombs wait for no one

judih
feb 26/05

post script:
Last night, while waiting for the doors to open to an Archie Shepp concert, me in the heart of Tel Aviv with my son, man and friends, hear cellphones ringing in the crowd and yeah, there'd been another suicide bomb just north of us at a disco on the boardwalk.
live, people, live, for tomorrow may be a dream unfulfilled.

[mtmynd]

peace
can
not
be
full
until
it
is
com
plete
com
is
it
until
full
be
not
can
peace

[judih]

may the circle be unbroken may the circle be unbroken may the circle be unbroken may the circle be unbroken by and by, lord (goddess, spirit, energy, chi, and so on),by and by

[mtmynd]

may the enzo never close may the enzo never close may the enzo never close for it is never complete

[stilltrucking]

too stoned too stoned judih, all I can do is spontaneous, I can't evern try to make sense of the mind of a suicidal murderer, levi comes to mind Levi A. that is, do we want peace he asked?
johnny cash had a lot of friends who were veterans, he was intrigued by their language, "drive on, it don't mean nothin. Drive On.

just call me casey jones, but the peace train is on track on time if we want it.

don't bogart that joint, and a sip of shenandoah moon water, I'll make it through the night


keep a low profile, take care, i blow you a bubble of hugs

and peace..


How do you keeep a low profile when you are thirteen feet tall? a hell of a time to ramble very sad judih it does mean everything, those GI's refering to seeing the man beside you get shot when there was nothing to be done. all they could do was keep on keeping on

mostly I think about the kids in your class, and how do ya keep a stiff upper lip.

[jota]

Hola. I heard about the incident. I was hoping for a warm spring without bombs.

Hope you and your fam is well.

Peace, Jota.

[Totenkopf]

Miss J. produces fairlee intense wri ting when she's in the mood

[Nazz]

A bomb will eventually solve it,
though violence is such an afterthought.
The electric charge and smell of it.
I can't even imagine the scene.
Turn up that goddamn saxophone.

[judih]

those days seem so long ago
we've got a ceasefire now
but, on the other hand, israel's just released prisoners who have declared they're coming back with more bombs.

turn up the saxophone,
turn on the flutes
the pastoral scenes
the fijords
and fields that have known no war
if such fields exist, turn them louder

[constantine]

i like the structure of your poem - it pulses. bitter frustration spoken with eloquence.

[judih]

thank you, dino
it's spoken word, as you heard in your mind
written to be spoken - i hope the need to speak it dies out completely

[SmileGRL]

damn judih! you rock the house sometimes with passion bleeding from your poems. sensory & emotional overload in these two. how can we ever understand what goes on in the minds of suicide bombers...and all the pain they cause with their twisted believes. and how do we deal with pain...more overload of a different kind. we do to numb it out, don't we.

[judih]

we can't understand why someone would opt for blasting her/himself in the middle of a crowded area.
the horror is indigestible, and yet, we read about it all the time - in Baghdad, in Afghanistan, in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Netanya, Haifa and Be'er Sheva. The Twin Towers, and must we keep making lists?
no, no more lists.
if war can cease to be glorified, if there is no reason for a moment of fame through murder/suicide, if peace becomes more seductive than destruction, well then, we can go back to painting soft pastel landscapes and singing sweet songs of longing for days of rain.

thanks, smilegrl for readin!