Monthly Archives: June 2015

Show Poem: Let’s get wet… June 28 / Beacon, NY /River Fest #SchwervonPoetry

Beacon River Fest
Wolf calls and birdsong
Water lapping and grass bristling
In the wind
Rain drops tap tap taping
Insects chirp and call
These are the songs I whish to cover

It is important sometimes
To feel the water
Between our bones
To celebrate the great river spirit

Just open your mouth
Let her fluids inside
Embrace the
Hydration in take

You are here to day
Drink that in
Let it drip down you chin
And make a big wet spot on
Your pants
Wear that wet spot with pride

Water is where we come from
Let’s get wet
Let’s get born again
In each other’s
Wetness is the best
Swim in it
Drink it in
Let’s get wet
Let’s get wet.

Show Poem: Let’s see how it feels To feel good for a while… June 27 / Brooklyn, NY /Shea Stadium #SchwervonPoetry

Shea stadium 2015
The nightmare comes after the dream
And then the dream returns

Hop on hop off
No amount of rain
Can wash away this filth
The filth of millions of friends
And millions of dogs of friends
And tens of millions of dogs of friends shits

Bathing at the bottom of the well
A single orange balloon
Tied to my wrist

Tight rope walker
Stretching across the sky
Home is where you hang

A beautiful black bird
Feasts upon something dead
By the side of the road

Coming up for air
Your ad here
Let’s ride this rainbow
Into a positive millennium
Breakup sex marriage

Let’s see how it feels
To feel good for a while
Let’s feel more
More than a feeling
There is no divot replacing
There are moles in one
There are no holes
no right time weong time
There is only somewhere else
And that’s not here
Here there is love
That’s the shit.

Show Poem: Eat this and never die… June 25 / Buffalo, NY /Sugar City #SchwervonPoetry

Audience of zombie teachers
Prison closet sex club
Fueld by an over active bladder
And pocketed coil technology

Eat this and never die
I finally found the right snack
Brain rolls covered in icing

Lost baggage shows up
In a different time zone

Rain clouds on a silver Buffalo
A gauntlet of trees
Passing on the left
The organ grinder tips his hat
And smiles

Fighting dirty in the car

The cows are gathered
In their masses
Upon green pastured
Midnight masses

Sorry brings the hurt
Sorry brings the hammer down
Nobody sees it like you
And I know that’s
Extremely frustrating
Like a bird who only knows
It’s own song

We must learn to use the black Light
to excavate the crime scene
We must sing inside the fishbowl
to Create song bubbles