Rainbow Fantasy

I live in an age where when I go to CVS and ask the sales person for Mercurochrome he has no idea what I’m talking about. Live in an age where most people under 25 have never heard of Marilyn Monroe. Some few saw the recent production of movies and T-shirts shown all over the fashion industry. I bought a Marilyn shirt at Macy’s. Probably people who grew up during her time saw the movies about Marilyn’s life.

They had to kill Marilyn. True she’d been passed down through the Kennedys and I recall how she sang, Happy Birthday Mr. President with that Eartha Kitt sexy breathy voice, a husky tinge promising more to come.

People don’t know who Janis and Jimi are either, don’t see why they should give a damn about them. It’s more about who you are today in light given years. You see what I mean. - O’lay!

Living in an age where stars are criminals and the more props you gain from your evil deeds the more famous you become.

No one cares about a starlit gaze, a maze of illustrious dreams; everyone thinks things so easy now-a-days. Com’on and get happy, throw all your cares away.

Get on a reality TV show to show your bad, show your stupid fat ass fad and that and 2 cents makes you famous.

Now-a-days they don’t make stars or Mercurochrome anymore. None of the real stuff can be found. A few stars pass by unnoticed and unnamed and no one can see what you see even when you explain it to them using a light show. No one knows anymore. We just imagine a new world we can make unable to see the waste of talents over years. No one knows anything anymore…

Used to be a time when people knew, a time when we knew what we could do and would join together to make things better.

All the fizz is out of the jizzmo.

No one’s going anyplace anymore. All out of that brand? I can’t understand why it hurts so much.

Know I’ve got to go where I can show I understand the flow of the naked glow - no one understands what I say. Is it because I live in a different realm and can’t be in this one?

The universe doesn’t exist or my mind resides on a faraway star, a space in a hidden universe.

I never conquered the space between the roses. The thorns bite to the quick when you try to pick one, a delicious hurt I want more of.  I savor the taste of blood as it rolls down my fingertips, a tribute to Eleanor, I suck my bloody finger, relish my taste when I'm too lazy to use the Astrogel. I slide my finger inside for more wetness. I lick my finger. It tastes so good, enjoy the scent and put my finger back on the buzzer.

Is this what they mean when they say you have 9 lives, do they mean that the universe I die in is different from the womb that birthed me.

What exactly changed that the fare went from a dime to two fifty in the timespan of half of a century or that the planet is hotter than before like summer days where they urge you to stay inside for your own good or you may explode inside the time it takes to walk outside to go where you decide to go.

Are people still the same or are they different? You have to shock people, force their eyes wide open, make them feel something and if you can’t do that in the span of a second then you’re second place, you’ll never be first.

If you have to ask the question you’ll never understand the answer no matter how many times it’s explained to you. You have to know, if you don’t know it’s like being dead, walking in a dense cloud of obnoxious smoke. Create a new trend, dubious dreams seem delirious. Next night I was there when it happened yet never witnessed the change.

The gap between space and time closes.



____________________________________
*Author's note

*I actually do know that Mercurochrome is outlawed because of the mercury because when I had this experience of going to a drugstore and not finding it on shelves and no one knowing what it is anymore, I looked up why and learned. 

Thanks to Thomas Hubbard to corrected my spelling of Jimi.

Mississippi blues festival Gussow and Turner), 2013

Finally Finally ...

This was a very tough issue for me as I had no one to do layout except me. As it turned out, the cover was created online using pages which it took me a minute to figure out. With the rest of the issue I used microsoft word which didn't seem any more difficult than pages but is a bit easier than Adobe in Design. I spent about 20 hours and a full day sitting at my computer. Boy was my butt sore!


UuuuuugggggGGGGG

Here she is in all her glory.

Short stories, poetry and art.

Featured Poet:   M. Miriam Herrera

Featured Artist: Chor Boogie

Yay for me I made some headway!

The Cartier Street Review is out July 2013

Other artists:

Joe Giodano

Florence Weinberger

Thomas Hubbard

Williams

James Maloney

DAYBREAK

Cellophane moon rides high in sky

Moon tides burst with song

Stings my unnurtured heart with ruptured longings deeper than sea ringing inconsolably

Jimmies the lock triples the false starts below the bistro glows yellow lights glimmer

Flickr the night away dreaming fritter the morning sun warming the ground I lie upon

Pray to the diverse universe of sounds emerge reborn from the womb

I am

The sting hurts worse the first time I lay claim to Cleopatra’s birthright

Scent from heaven

Love makes wrongs right

You get it or you don’t

Try harder to bite the dust emerging from my womb

Clean house, sweeps dirt from beneath the rug

hidden corners emerge bathed in dawn’s light

Aglow with merchandise to show I sweep the surface below words running rapids

Afraid of the flow falling unbidden from lips unspoken nerves violet loves

bright blue golden fringed butterflies dance in my eyes

Walking through the rain at daybreak, no longer feel teardrops flowing with the rain

Flooded by memories, past difficulties, unable to eradicate even one memory

Live through memories daily, replay in my head, I can’t deny

Memories thrive, can’t forget no matter how hard I try

Memories linger, replay day after day

Memories cling to me like worn out clothes

I have the sense to trash these memories insist, resist any effort to throw them away

Memories return to torture me repeatedly

Lure me to decipher hidden sentiments tucked away

To lonely dark secluded places deep beneath the rubbish that stands for anything real

I assign a name to a place tortured by time grown wise beyond the horizon

anger seethes beneath crimes committed, I admit my guilt,

“The fault … is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” *

Memories stand in my way. I am my own personal Judas Iscariot.

Between dawn and dusk searching for remnants of luck, stuck in no man’s land

Under a moonlit sun

Lost in traffic disgruntled and disavowed

Eyes gaze into mine deeper than the deepest

see emerging from the constraints in my veins,

crumbs from my womb sweep clean, a diamond ruby triumphs

Blinding sun breaks at the crack of dawn, mystifies soul watcher

Desire tinged edges lost in the catacombs of fire

* Julius Ceasar

Call Me The Bedbug Warrior

I won’t let them succeed

I’ll get them before they get me, you’ll see.

Bell Environmental said they’re all dead

I wonder if it’s true

Feel them crawling around in my hair

They say they’re all dead

But they’re still there in my head

Can’t get a grip

I hire Pestrol instead.

Their dog also confirms, there’s no more bed bugs alive

Perhaps an egg survives beneath the rug

I’m loath to tear up

Movie-theatre style carpet

Wall to wall, an unusual pattern

Two-toned green vines crawl between five circles

Each circle containing a fleurs de lis

One in each corner, eighteen inches between the four

Nine inches to the center fleurs de lis

One in the center

Four fleurs de lis in each corner 

Repeated endlessly

Light and dark golds, rust orange leaves, dark vibrant green,

A Kelly and lime green vine floats between the circles

I sit here dreaming of surfing the Internet

with my new steamy bed partner

A hand held Haan steamer

I feel them; they scuttle across my neck, crawl behind my ears

The better to sting me inject me with their venom,

Creep through my hair, I dare not turn my head

I dare not fall asleep

My steamy new bed partner lies silent beside me waiting to be put to use.

The Internet said 98 percent of the human race 
has tiny hair mites we can’t see

I’m sure I feel them jumping up there in my hair somewhere

It’s very scary

“What should I do? Should I rip up the wall-to-wall rug?”

Joey says, “If it makes you feel better mom, it’s ok, throw out the rug.”

“What about the furniture? Should I throw that out too?”

“Only if it makes you feel better Mom. 
If it makes you feel safer, throw it out.”

“But you don’t think there’s any of them left?”

“No Mom, but that’s me. You had two dogs in here last week. 
You can’t hire a dog every single week to check for bedbugs.

“It’s ok Mom, throw out everything you want if it makes you feel better.” 
He pats me tenderly on the shoulder. Insane sanity. 
His crazy mother’s really gone off the deep end this time, 
gripping sanity tightly in her fist, then splat, she’s gone.

Diatomaceous earth sprinkled throughout the house

Sprinkled in drawer corners and around the edges

Use a business card to push the powder into the cracks,

Sprinkled between the rug and walls

Sprinkled where the old baseboard was torn up

Sprinkled beneath the bed

Sprinkled on top of the head board

Sprinkle soft white powder into a take out plastic container 
place each leg of the bedframe separately
into a container of its own diatomaceous earth

Sprinkled in a bag of shoes

Diatomaceous earth slices and dices 
dehydrates insects who steps through the soft white 
deceptive powder sprinkled liberally everywhere

Dreaming of new tiles and a clean pinkish swirl beige porcelain floor

I’m sure a porcelain floor will make me feel safe

Don’t rain on my bedbug parade

Disappointment ...

Tired of the do nothings 

Tired of people who refuse to apologize
because they insist they did nothing wrong 

and being right is more important than keeping a friend 

Tired of people who complain
I leave dental floss strands lying on their floor 

but they take my bamboo wooden cutting board,
bang it into broken pieces
and chop meat on it to boot, 

even though I gave them a plastic one for meats

Use my table to burn cigarette scars,
Then strip the screws so the legs refuse to stand straight,

Take my metal file cabinet, drag it to the center of the room 

and place a big plant on top so the metal rusts through

Take a rug that's not theirs and decide what it's for and where it goes

People who deny they're addicts but take too many pills 

so they can sleep their lives away, avoid all responsibility

Tired of people who drink their lives away yet deny they're mentally ill
or hoarders who can't throw away rusted empty cans

Tired of being used like an old dishrag to clean everyone's shit because they refuse to clean their own

Tired of having friends who don't make amends but drive through the center of my heart in an old jalopy giving off smoke so thick it should have never passed the emissions test, smoke so thick I can barely breathe and am losing my ability to see

I'm tired of my mind that makes me think all these thoughts forces me to realize I have no friends

All alone my heart hurts from the pain the wounds are deep healing is like a dream 

I try to visualize escape to a world where friends are real

and realize I need to create a better new world

Love-Ism Volume I: A Critical Mass and Other Poems

I am still mulling through Love-IsmVolume I: A Critical Mass and Other Poems.  This is not an easy-to-read book. It is similar to a college text in that the reading is slow going - not because it is not interesting but because the content is so rich and varied and one must really have their mind ready to concentrate. You know what I mean if any of you can remember being in college or post grad school. Coorough's books are very dense with information and packed with historical details including but not limited to the history and development of the United States Government and the history and development of other governments worldwide. 

Coorough incorporates all this information and brings it home when he shows specific example of how particular governmental techniques and regulations travel from one leader to another and more specifically, how these techniques have been used world wide to capture audiences and create working agendas in addition to controlling the populace.

The density of information and history combined with the intensity of Coorough's emotions bring this text home. His interpretations of world events put into perspective current events and also provide an alternative for the direction of current governments worldwide. Coorough's agenda is to raise awareness to show how we (the worldwide we) can be part of creating a new world that will be sustainable for our offspring. In general people have been like puppets and in scientific studies and has been proven people are very easily manipulated to hurt one another. This has led to our current situation where we have put the planet's sustainability in danger as well as harming many species. For example, current farming practices have become a travesty where animals suffer from birth to their short death.

I strongly recommend this book and his others - especially to spread the "occupy" message and clarify the realization that our world needs change and it is overdue. If Castro could bring back coral reefs to Cuba, we can force change if we think and move together altruistically. I shudder to think about what will happen if we let things go and act like the robots we've become, just letting the world happen to us instead of participating in creating a new world meant to benefit humanity.

I strongly recommend this book and his others - especially to spread the "occupy" message and clarify the realization that our world needs change and it is overdue. If Castro could bring back coral reefs to Cuba, we can force change if we think and move together altruistically. I shudder to think about what will happen if we let things go and act like the robots we've become, just letting the world happen to us instead of participating in creating a new world meant to benefit humanity.

I very much appreciate Coorough's descriptions of John Lennon and Yoko Ono's "Bed In" as examples of how all of us can collaborate to create change.