POEMS (Continued)
by
Reinhard A. Palovcik

Edited by Tom Miller

© 1995, 1996 
Reinhard A. Palovcik
and FREDInk Records



Revealing dimensions
              some touching
                 some bizarre
                               from the mind of the author




Only Once

We are here only once
As time passes by, inexorably

These wasted moments
Composing poetry
Could have been better spent
Fucking some beautiful woman

It was only my lack of success
In the latter endeavor
That drove the speech for this verse
For who
       when given an opportunity
               of ecstatic fulfillment
Would waste their time with such hollow
       symbols of ambiguous
                       questionable meaning




Rot My Brain

Dig me a hole, stuff me with stuffing
Bury me in a grave of hot earth
        to roast in agony for my sins
Fry me on a skillet of moralized judgment
Purge me of all pleasure and lust
Autoclave my heart
        to kill all those eating germs of desire
Rot my brain with scientific and intellectual crap
       that generates equations for the mass killing of souls
Liberate me from the life force and drive me to spiritual
abstraction
Until I am become a ghost
Able only to observe
                       but not feel
       those ever-quickening pattern of destruction
              that drive mankind to extinction




Evil Midgets

These evil midgets
        hoard their gold
In grubby
        dwarf armpits
In smelly crotches
Skin
        all scabby and raw

Mining uranium in caves
They pile profit
        upon profit
In negligent      abandon

Sucking the desire of uncounted millions
Draining dollars to feed their mildewed lust
While generating a heat that consumes
            bodies
                              souls
Destroying those values of love and devotion
       that we scattered few still cherish in the sun




Money

Money is money is money
My money, your money
Coins, paper money
Plastic money, digital money

A poor man's money
        procured with great suffering and effort
        is spent, each penny, with specific purpose
        buying food, clothes, medicine
The loss of a hundred dollars may bring
        ruin, devastation, starvation

A rich man's money grows on trees
As he sits, idle, by his pool
No awareness of pennies or dollars
Amounts are counted in the thousands and millions
A rich man's money buys
Limousines, mansions, yachts
The loss of ten thousand may barely bring a frown

Which is more just?
To tax a poor man
        depriving him of food
Or to tax a rich man
        depriving him of fun?




Rare

That rarefied moment of :
        YES, I LOVE you, FUCK my brains out
Occurs only in the imagination
When
        in a brief instant in time
              inhibitions are expunged
                     to a distant site of awareness
And the infinity of our world
        becomes discretely focused on
                the shape of a nose
                       the trace of an elbow
                              the curve of a thigh
        or the gently converging crescent of a crotch




War

The roar of jet engines overhead      increasing in pitch
                as they approach
Cluster bombs           released          descend in groups
Fall          and           wobble            gracefully
       as to the tune of a symphony
Descending relentlessly
        unstoppable
               they approach
                       their human targets

Those few
       who are unaware
               gaze upward
               to see the descending horror
Screaming
       try to run
               but where?

As they strike their targets
       throwing multiple fragments of doom
               in all directions
They strip       skin          from        flesh
        flesh       from         muscle
               muscle    from          bone

Blood gushes forth, freely, released from its captive state
        of nourishing thoughts, memories, loves

After various stages of writhing in pain
               several find solace in death

Others linger in a twilight of suffering and remorse
       Why me?
              This was never my war

Destruction is total
                             and very democratic
Good and bad
       virtuous and vile
               holy and blasphemous
       are destroyed in equal measure




Alcoholic

Staring into the bottle
       I see only a few drops left
               I won't give up yet
As I tip the bottle
       these few remaining drops disperse
               and wet the sides
A vague fragrance of whiskey
        wafts from the bottle
               breathing it won't help
To extract those few remaining drops
I fill the bottle with a small amount of water
        shake
               drink it
But it's not enough
        Not enough to stave off the craving
Not enough to fight the pain of a rotting liver
        Not enough to tranquilize my failure at life
Not enough to lose
               the suffering of total disappointment in love
        Not enough to stave off the upcoming seizures
Not enough to look for
                                       and find
                                                              the next bottle




Lost

So hard to form these words
        these sentences
I hadn't thought about you for a long time
        but once the spark was lit
        it all came cascading back
I had already spent hours, days, years
               thinking of you
You weren't the most beautiful
        or the most intelligent
But you had, within me
        awakened some strangely perfect feelings
Moments filled with boredom
        turned to moments of anticipation
Colors brightened
        my ears buzzed to every mention of your name
As I focused these desires and intents
        a lush, unearthly presence begged for release

At first, I missed opportunities
        not knowing how to feel or what to say
Afterwards, I tried too hard to demonstrate my love
        and realized too late
                                                you didn't love me

And so
        I floated in a languid sea of numbing pain
        restlessly drifting from one terror
                                                      to the next

I imagined, with vividness and fervor
        what it would feel like to have you near me
                to hear you speak, see you move
                        and feel your love

And imagined too
What you felt
As you flitted
From one liaison to the next
Not caring for love
But only an occasional caress and release

I couldn't reconcile these desires with my feelings
        nor neither with reality
And so felt as if I were a naked corpse
        in a wilderness of shame

Finally, I built the suspense
                                      into a mortal tragedy
I gave you the ultimate choice
                       either love me or I will destroy myself

But I didn't really want to die
Not for you nor any other causes or beliefs
And so I found other reasons to live
                                                      many of them

Now only one thought still rings true
        I will never love
                        anyone but you

And this barely beating heart
        that still nourishes an aging brain

Soon
        it too
                will stop

And gone will be these memories
And gone
        will be
                my love
                        for you




Purest

How strange, in this illusion of life on earth
        the purest love goes unfulfilled




Jellyfish

Jesus most loves the jellyfish
Soft, squishy, mellow things
Floating gently on a shimmering sea
Undulating slowly in the waves
No sex, no sin
        each complete in its hermaphroditic wholeness
Not needing to copulate to continue its kind
Each already in a heaven of simple-minded nothingness
Floating, together
                               with others of its species
In shapes of crosses
                and other arcane Christian symbols




Reminiscence

At night, under starry sky, walking a now familiar path
My thoughts wandered back
                       to feelings of youthful exuberance
When the whole world lay at my feet
I was free to take any direction
So many paths
                each with its own splendor and shining jewels
Desiring riches
                        fame
                               and love
I wanted them all

Realizing only now, in the last few moments of life
Billions of souls, billions of paths
Each with its own special, secret pleasures
Each with suffering and terror
Now
        just before death
                               none more important than any other




Insight

Most of the greatest insights
        are but the briefest flashes
Pulled from an expanded, collective awareness

And, if not held open through a gate in time
        by constant
                conscious
                        vigilance
        they vanish instantly

                never to again be retrieved

Collapsing quickly

                        into a void


Made all the more empty
        by the sudden absence

                of the once
                                powerful pulse




Stream of Tears

A plain cup of bitter black coffee
        sits at the coffee bar, untouched
Two cigarettes lie crushed in the ashtray
        one lipstick stained, the other filterless

Outside
        rain driving down at angles
                generates small rivers of tears
                        that run along the curb

She, standing in the rain
        eyes swollen with tears
                       looks at him
                                                searching
He, holding umbrella
        breathes eavenly
                looking distracted

She, hands shaking, pulls out another cigarette
        lights it
                        inhales deeply

Smoke, collecting slowly under the umbrella
        escapes in streams along the edge
                only to be captured and driven down by rain

As they walk slowly together down the street
The patter of rain and noise of traffic
        fail to penetrate her private ocean of pain

While he, oblivious of mud slung by passing tires,
Sheds but a single tear that disappears quickly in the rain


From now on they will follow separate paths

Each
        by choice
                        crying into separate streams




Ego

The self which resides within this moving shell of flesh
        slides between spaces of words
To hear itself breathe and ponder
                                              yet another night alone

Lost in a wilderness of dreams
                                       from which friendly demons
        tickle and taunt a confused ego
                        with ironic supplication
A fatal battle between altruistic superego
        spirals inward to annihilate with a self indulgent id
Leaving only light
        shed on
                       leaf
                                      stem
                                                              and trunk




Simple

I could remain forever young
Never letting tracks of tragedy
        traverse my face
Discarding sadness of past failure
Retaining only cherished memories
Dying at the end of every day
How simple such a life would be




Ferret

He was aghast at the ferret droppings on his rug
        scattered about in random fashion
Picking up the ferret and raising it to his lips
        he sucks in a large load of droppings
Then shoots them out in perfect geometric patterns

It was the regularity
                the all-importance of reason that counted
No tolerance for asymmetry or disorder
As long as he generated and perceived order
        he had fulfilled his function
        and felt contented and relaxed







Eat Shit

Eat my shit, motherfucker
Feel the vomit rise in your throat
Chew and swallow the bitter waste
And when it enters your blood
        to secrete a poison of death
Feel your muscles convulse and wrench in agony
So that I may lose all trace of humanity
        to writhe with the maggots
                that will devour your rotting flesh