• Goose Eggs – Hal Bogotch
  • Love – Mary Getlein
  • Train of Thought – hillary kaye
  • Greed – Jim Smith
  • As It Is (So It Shall Be) – Rebecca Moore Frey
  • Even on a Cloudy Day – Mark Lipman
  • Days Past – John Kertisz

———-

GOOSE EGGS

Defending myself
a bag of bones

halo shines straight up to the moon
lunar reflection of awesome soul
man hours versus days in the sun
loss, grief, fissures fill with lava

blue-eyed star child, earth sign for sure
let the neighbors talk talk talk
mobile, wireless, zany as can be
what will they blah blah blog about

ponder my crimes
thou hast stolen ethereal half-life
hear ye
hard-boiled radiant irradiated golden eggs

take a gander
au rive gauche
my goose is cooked
life is a lethal injection

recoil at the steel-jaw trap of justice
born on September 11th
died every day
red white and blue blood burns.

–Hal Bogotch
———–
(Last month the Beachhead cut off the last half of Mary Getlein’s poem. We’re reprinting it this month for all those who were caught hanging, and because we love Mary’s poetry. -the Collective)
Love
For Tina Catalina Corcoran
By Mary Getlein
She went all the way to China
to find her little girl.
It was a mother and child re-union
Even though they had never met before
She was looking for true love, true love, true love.
She drove all the way down to Venice from Florida
She got in the car and drove-
all the way to Venice-
She was looking for true love, true love, true love
She missed her old friends,
here and gone, young and old,
She missed the spirits of Venice,
alive and gone,
Spirits be calling her,
Come home, come home, come home:
They were looking for true love, true love, true love
I drove all the way to Venice-
in an old yellow taxi
That we bought in Richmond Va.,
for $70.
We got in the car and drove-
all the way to the Promised Land-
and, yeah, it was crazy,
and yeah,
I LOVED IT!
Joining the carnival was a lot of fun-
Clowns, minstrels, musicians, artists,
hopers, dopers, junkies, evangelists,
preachers, teachers, bleeders-
vampires, ghosts, haunts coming out…

Looking for love
Looking for TRUE LOVE?
True love is love, not hate
True love is fun, it’s great
It’s nothing to be afraid of
Ya gotta run for it, baby
Ya gotta jump and run into the
jump-rope of life
Ya gotta run + play
Ya gotta dance and sing!
And hum and run and jump and play
This planet is your playground.
Make up your mind!
Stay or go
Jump or Run
Stop and stay:
Play your days away
Dance to the Light of the Silvery Moon
The moon and stars are waiting
for you
You’ll get to dance in the sunset
When your time is up.
We love you:
All particles of Light are filled with LOVE
You are surrounded by rays of LIGHT
And LOVE.
Now go do it:
Make yourself Happy and LOVED!
(A commandment)
The first commandment: LOVE YOURSELF.

———–

Train of Thought
by hillary kaye

the sky is vast above me
it holds the hope of escape
turned down by the angels
i live for now upon the earth

voices vague and haunting
words i don’t want to know
philosopher kings
the drifting night
falls off into morning
the words are magnified
and now are cutting up

the train stops
picks up
the crowd of the lost
carries them onward
our last journey
one last time trying to make night into day
trying to fly like the birds trying so hard to be light
and finding only the earth dry and barren, ignorant
of our efforts
———-
Greed
By Jim Smith
A young researcher
stood on the hospital steps
and stared at the TV cameras.
White coat flapping
in the breeze, she began:
We have found
a cure to a worldwide plague.
A sickness that makes people
accumulate wealth
Far beyond any need, or desire.
A disease that causes it’s victims
who crave money above all else
to turn their backs on those
they’ve forced into poverty,
or starvation.
Our cure is water soluble,
odorless and colorless.
As I speak, its formula,
which is quite simple, actually,
is being sent around the world.
Soon, men in suits were seen
rushing out of buildings,
and giving wads of cash
and offers of help
to the poor and indigent.
The worse cases,
the very wealthy,
took a little longer.
They sealed themselves
on estates, yachts and jets.
Barricaded and hiding,
the servants tested
their masters’ food and water
for telltale signs
of the cure.
And yes, in the end
it was the servants
who saved the sick men
after which they were offered
great rewards, which they declined.

———–

As It Is (So It Shall Be)
By Rebecca Moore Frey
From the universe
To the single cell
We are one (part)
Of a (great) all
From Heaven
to Hell
We are single souls
Of one massive whole
We are alive
We thrive
We survive
We take husband or wife
We create life
We go on
A new day dawns
Life moves on
Nature knows the way
Whether bird or beast
Famished or feast
We (all) know
How to eat
To explore
To [nest]
Our world is as one
For all we have done
Under the sun
To the Earth’s fiery core
There will be more
Life will go on
A new day will dawn
Night will unfold
We will grow old
From complex compositions
To the simplest molds
We are one
Of an all
So vast and immense
It can barely be sensed
By our mind’s eye
Time will fly by
Seasons will change
Earth will evolve
Life will remain
As it is
So it (always) shall be
We are one (part)
Of a unity
We are bound
We are free
As it is
So it (always) shall be
I have the Universe inside (of) me
————-
Even on a Cloudy Day

By Mark Lipman
There’s this perfect little spot
along the coast
Where, if you walk on down to the water
on the other side of the sand
There’s just this peaceful lull
of the tide.
The sky is overcast
and grey.
A pale mist clings to the air.
Few tourists venture out
on a day like this.
It’s cool, yet not cold.
I like it this way.
There are seagulls and sailboats
in my view.
To the right,
a silent Ferris wheel sits.
A pier jets out its lonely finger
to pierce the crashing waves.
A girl walks by.
Out of nowhere
my troubles seem
to disappear.
How could you not
love this place?
Then, as a white sun
pushes its light through
the soft blanket above
with its perfect pupil
looking down,
it reveals another face
in the thinning crowd.
A hard lined one,
brown and aged
with labor
carrying a basket of fruit
on her head.
She offers pineapples
and mangos
and “Buenos tardes,”
as she goes
and it feels warm
and friendly
… for a moment…
With the coming light
it dawns on me…
This is America.
We’re not like that here.
Surely there must be
something illegal
to this stroll on the beach.
Whether it be the cigar in my hand,
or the sliced melon passing by …
This is America – full of laws to break.
How can anyone here be illegal?
We’re all illegal,
right on down to our genetic patterns
soon to be patented
by Monsanto
so that my very life
can become the property of
another.
Only in America.
Where your innocence
and guilt is determined
by the size of your wallet
of whether or not you’re an owner.
As if deed and door
makes any one better
than another.
We’re all equal under the sun,
even on a cloudy day.
————
Days Past
I still remember when skys were blue
Mountains were green…the oceans too
Long before oil and war fueled by greed
Became our creed… as we poison our seed
From hubris and avarice to plume of doom
Top Hat to Top Kill we continue to destroy
Our Mother Earth…and ourselves
–John Kertisz

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