16 April 2010

Poetry Month: "Woman as Muse, Man as Dog"




She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.

She has more hair than she needs;
In the sun `tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of coloured beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.

She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine.

-- Edna St Vincent Millay
"Witch-Wife"





The last time I saw richard was detroit in '68,
And he told me all romantics meet the same fate someday
Cynical and drunk and boring someone in some dark cafe
You laugh, he said you think you're immune, go look at your eyes
Theyre full of moon
You like roses and kisses and pretty men to tell you
All those pretty lies, pretty lies
When you gonna realise they're only pretty lies
Only pretty lies, just pretty lies

He put a quarter in the wurlitzer, and he pushed
Three buttons and the thing began to whirr
And a bar maid came by in fishnet stockings and a bow tie
And she said drink up now its gettin' on time to close.
Richard, you haven't really changed, I said
It's just that now you're romanticizing some pain that's in your head
You got tombs in your eyes, but the songs
You punched are dreaming
Listen, they sing of love so sweet, love so sweet
When you gonna get yourself back on your feet?
Oh and love can be so sweet, love so sweet

Richard got married to a figure skater
And he bought her a dishwasher and a coffee percolator
And he drinks at home now most nights with the tv on
And all the house lights left up bright
I'm gonna blow this damn candle out
I don't want nobody comin' over to my table
I got nothing to talk to anybody about
All good dreamers pass this way some day
Hidin' behind bottles in dark cafes
Dark cafes
Only a dark cocoon before I get my gorgeous wings
And fly away
Only a phase, these dark cafe days

-- Joni Mitchell
"The Last Time I Saw Richard"



The Lone Dog




by

Justice Putnam


It is said
That if you
Throw a rock
Into a pack of dogs

The one that is hit
Barks the loudest.

But I have to tell you
I am a loud dog

But not of the Pack

I am the individual
Surviving
By my wits
By my ability

To adapt to
The situation and
Accept that the
Given

May not be enough

I don't act out of impulse
I knew the rock
Would be thrown

But my survival
Depends on
My abilities
By my experience
And analytical prowess

Does the Moon
I howl to at night
Have power over me?

I suppose
It pulls at the
Oceans.

Does the
Hunger
I constantly
Feel have
Control?

The answer is obvious.

Is the two-legged animal
With the whip and leash
God?

No

God
Is much
More mysterious
Much more Powerful

Much more the
Provider
Much more the

Taking Away

God does
Speak to me

Yes
God speaks
To a loud
Lone dog

God doesn't
Speak through the
Pack

But to me
Personally

You could say
I have a
Personal
Conversation with

God

But not of
Words

God is
Much more
Mysterious
Than that

So I pray alone

For what
God and I have is
Personal.

I figure
It's the same with
Everything that has

Soul.




From: "The God Debate- a dialogue between Tom Paine and the Carthaginians”

© 2002 Justice Putnam
and Mechanisches Strophe-Verlagswesen;
and also appeared on verse 3, "The World is Mine" from the CD Judgement Time
by 50 Tramp Dawg
and World Wreckards Productions



Enough is Enough





by

Justice Putnam


ya ever get tired
of someone whining
that their big ass
had nothing to do
with the hurt?

do ya?

and do ya ever get tired
of someone moaning
that they’ve never
been this hurt and
it’s worse than
all that came before?

do ya?

well
i for one am

i’m tired of it

because
how many times
does the same line

get used
for each perceived

conquest
that flew out the door?

and how can this
special one be more
special than
the previous
special one?

or the one after?

answer me that.

it’s like a guy
i knew in L.A.

he told me once

he always picked up
the intellectual chicks

(his words, mind you)

at the art museum.

he asked if i
wanted to also

well
i begged off

because
if that was
the best it got

i figured
i’d curl up
with an ancient
author instead.

from: “The Nature of Poetics Collapsed Outside My Window”

© 2005 by Justice Putnam
and Mechanisches-Strophe Verlagswesen



In Answer to Fundamentalism





by

Justice Putnam



It is not right
To elevate Her
To the status of
Goddess

Rational man
Would refute it.

A material world
Critical of
Class and place

Would find
That elevation
To be demeaning.

My Heart
Doesn’t beat
In a material world

Though
I be nothing
More than
Flesh and
Bone.

In a sky
Of light

A universe
Of gravity

A galaxy
Among the void
And plasma

And yet some
Would question
Whether another
Would doubt

The Power of
God’s hand?



© 2006 by Justice Putnam
and Mechanisches-Strophe Verlagswesen



The Poet Walks The City At Dawn






by

Justice Putnam



Why cry
When I can
Have the sun

When I
Can walk
To the corner

And turn it.

When every
Face could be
A Home.



© 1980 and 2004 by Justice Putnam
and Mechanisches Strophe-Verlagswesen




Arctic Dream





Words and Music by
Justice Putnam


Come across the desert
Up over the sea
Through the Bering Strait
Where the seas freeze

(Come on, baby
Have an arctic dream
With me.)

Put down the palm fronds
In the Polynese
Tack into a
Northern westerly breeze

(Come on, baby
Have an arctic dream
With me.)

The frozen tundra
Aurora's eerie glow
An igloo house
Where we can go

(Come on, baby
Have an arctic dream
With me.)


© 1980 by Justice Putnam, El Segundo Linea Music and Arch Heights Publishing;
© 2005 by Justice Putnam, Fleur de Sel Musique
and Mechanisches-Strophe Verlagswesen



I'm Way Gone






(words and music
by Justice Putnam)

(bluesy)

I'm sometimes monastic
But I'm not a priest
I just feed the birds
At the towers of ivory

(I'm gone
yeah man
I'm way gone

I am so gone
Yeah man
I'm way gone)

I got a gift
Of roses
The thorns were removed
But that fragrance
Without that pain
Is just not the truth

(I'm gone
yeah man
I'm way gone

I am so gone
Yeah man
I'm way gone)

I kissed a girl from Kyoto
I kissed a girl from France
We all played
Wet at the
Industrial dance

(I'm gone
yeah man
I'm way gone

I am so gone
Yeah man
I'm way gone)

I've slept with some
Older women
Some young ones too
But talk of loving me
Or me loving you and

(I'm gone
yeah man
I'm way gone

I am so gone
Yeah man
I'm way gone)

I got my sin
I got my poetry
I got my transcontinental
Blasphemy

(I'm gone
yeah man
I'm way gone

I am so gone
Yeah man
I'm way gone)

(m/16) Mama sang some Beatnik
Daddy drove real fast
But Grandma
Always took me
To the Early Mass

Mama sang some Beatnik
Daddy drove real fast
But Grandma
Always took me
To the Early Mass

I'm sometimes monastic
But I'm not a priest
I just feed the birds
At the towers of ivory

(I'm gone
yeah man
I'm way gone

I am so gone
Yeah man
I'm way gone)



© 2004 by Justice Putnam
Fleur de Sel Musique
and Mechanisches-Strophe Verlagswesen



She Looks Familiar To Me





Words and Music
by Justice Putnam



I've seen her serve tea
In Hawaii

Pour an oil slow massage
In Denver

Her henna painted foot
On a Moroccan
Mosaic floor.

A walk through
The Tenderloin
In latex

A North Beach
Dance behind glass

A motel neon
Fading on a
Red door.

(The streets of Portland
The booths of Amsterdam

The canopies of tapestry
In Bangalore)

She hides tears
Of memory

With a touch
And a fragile
Invincibility

Yet
She looks
Familiar to me.

(It's not because
Of fantasy
That I see her
In the places
That I go

But something more
Recognizant
As family

A survivor-sadness
And a strength
On the road.)

She hides tears
Of memory

With a touch
And a fragile
Invincibility

Yet
She looks
Familiar to me.



© 2005 Justice Putnam
Fleur du Sel Musique
and Mechanisches Strophe-Verlagswesen



She Leaves The Gypsies
(Howling at the Moon)






words and music by
Justice Putnam


1) My baby's got
Such a sweet disposition
She'll stop traffic
In Paris at noon
She might take
A little Basque vacation

She'll leave the gypsies (m/16)
Howling at the moon.

2) My love is like
Some sweet libation
The kind you drink
At some Left Bank Rue
She'll take you
Way past intoxication

One glance at her (m/16)
And you begin to swoon.

3) My baby's not
Afraid of Tradition
Just watch the seditious
Way that she moves
It's not that
She waits for consummation

She wants love (m/16)
And a whole lot of truth.

My baby's got
Such a sweet disposition
She'll stop traffic
In Paris at noon
She might take
A little Basque vacation

She'll leave the gypsies (m/16)
Howling at the moon.

© 1996 Justice Putnam
Fleur du Sel Musique
and Mechanisches Strophe-Verlagswesen



So Very Late





words and music by
Justice Putnam


Pardon moi
Monsiour
S'il vous plait
Je ne sais pas
Tre bien parle

Pardon moi
Monsiour
S'il vous plait

Je ne suis quand Americain
Je ne se pas
Tre bien parle

The night is cold
The winds blow late
The train pulls loud
The Bells toll late

The roses
Are still blooming
In a broken vase

(And she comes (refrain)(m/8)
To see me
So very late.)

(repeat refrain)(m/8)

Pardon moi
Madame
S'il vous plait
Je ne sais pas
Tre bien parle

Pardon moi
Madame
S'il vous plait

Je ne suis quand Americain
Je ne se pas
Tre bien parle


4) The moon may
Be shining bright
But it is sinking late

The waves are
White thorns
Roaring late

The lights (m/16)
Of the city
Stab the night
So late

(And she comes (refrain)(m/8)
To see me
So very late.)

Pardon moi
Madamoiselle
S'il vous plait
Je ne sais pas
Tre bien parle

Pardon moi
Madamoiselle
S'il vous plait

Je ne suis quand Americain (tacet)
Je ne sais pas
Tre bien parle

Je ne suis quand Americain
Je ne sais pas
Tre bien joue

Je ne suis quand Americain
Je ne sais pas
Tre bien parle


© 1998 Justice Putnam
Fleur du Sel Musique
and Mechanisches Strophe-Verlagswesen



The Disinherited






words and music by
Justice Putnam

In your
Book of dreams
You have so many
Stages of grief
You stay so well hidden
You have the tenure
Of the given

(Go ahead (refrain) (m/8)
Go ahead and be tempted
Go ahead and be tempted
By the love
Of the disinherited)

2) You painted shade of light
On your own chosen
Radiant sphere
A seascape
Behind a landscape
Advocate the darkness
Of your fear

(Go ahead (refrain) (m/8)
Go ahead and be tempted
Go ahead and be tempted
By the love
Of the disinherited) (m/16)

3) What does it represent
You're only just a
Pilgrim in revolt
The chosen
Angel fallen
And there's going
to be a summing up

(Go ahead (refrain) (m/8)
Go ahead and be tempted
Go ahead and be tempted
By the love
Of the disinherited)

(repeat refrain (m/8) to coda)

© 1986 Justice Putnam
Fleur du Sel Musique
and Mechanisches Strophe-Verlagswesen


Josephine





words and music by
Justice Putnam


Josephine
Josephine
I’m pleading
With Josephine

Taking the steps
Down to the sea
Somewhere along
The coast of Normandy

Where the white
Fossil sands
Churned turbulently

Where men rushed
Into battle
And died violently

Whose last
Dying breath
Was to plead with

Josephine
Josephine
I’m pleading
With Josephine

Could be
The grasslands
Of the Sioux

No matter
Which side
They were on
They were all
Thinking of you

Could be in
In the South Pacific
Or the Persian Gulf
An Indonesian jungle
Or an Arctic hut

Could be in a
Manhattan penthouse
Or a cold water den

We’ll all grasp
At that last
Bit of hope
In the end with

Josephine
Josephine
I’m pleading
With Josephine

Josephine
Take me
Home


© 2005 Justice Putnam
Fleur du Sel Musique
and Mechanisches-Strophe Verlagswesen



("Woman on Bicycle, Paris, France" and "Winter Moon and Clouds, Forestville, California" copyright Justice Putnam)


cross posted at Daily Kos

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