USA

e-mail

jwpoet2002@yahoo.com

http://www.geocities.com/wileytuten/Dedication_To_Joseph_Mayo_Wristen

An Epithet for the Dead Poet

the voice of a dead poet
calling out from his grave
asking me to follow his visions.
Once a spirit known through time
he is now just one of the many souls
who have remained here to be with the living
his passionate thoughts
his causes
the moment in his life when he failed
to realize who he was
his fears preventing him from
finding his place in the after world
he has awakened from his death

the beating that comes from his heart
the pounding of the drums
the tribes of commerce
who call out to his dreams
they call his name in prayer
looking to find the means to combat
the oppressors of their different societies

I dance to his testimonial
in the heat of the night
I dance to his living death
he was not a Saint
and some say
that he was not even a considerate man
but he was a concerned individual
who was aware
of what was happening
around him
and what the world would be like
if humanity did not take care
of the land

The beating of his heart

I can hear his cries of suffering
his words of pain
he is asking us to fight
to take arms
against the establishment
of social injustices
to take down the walls
of religious prejudices
the words of his revolution
playing
on vinyl
spy
recordings

his verses ingrained in the minds
of those
who are out there
looking for Nature’s truth
he is the messenger
of a concerned democracy
his death the signaling of the second coming

the figure of the dead poet
voice of enlightenment
a symbol of man standing against ideal empires

a full moon
casting a spell
over our consciousness
the poet’s ghost
dancing under the stars
his soul looking to be freed

the blood bleeding from his heart
his visions stain my mind

the beating of the drums
his poetry
pounding against the injustices
of a free enterprise
he is crying out to us
shouting out to us from his grave
burn it down
burn it to the ground

the dead poet has returned and
there is no way I can escape his dream
he has taken me to his grave
shown me the emptiness of the next world
shared with me the plans of the deceiver
he has witnessed the repeating death
the traitors of God receive when found alive
returned to show us the way
of our salvation
he is here right now
inside my mind
the madness
he is taking me
beyond my own suffering

© All Copyright, 07/27/02, Joseph Mayo Wristen.

a Vermont Autumn Senate


the sign lifted notes under gypsy stout hop ideas
that have passed through time
the moments we’ve left to others, and then revisited

the different decisions made throughout history

watching the world turn from Venus
inside the seventh house of Mars,
sitting here
at the Voltaire Tavern
on my way to Ocean Beach, listening
to the whispered words that lay locked inside
crystal glass images,

thinking about the passages of life we share
that manifest outside of psychoenergetic colors,

the drinks poured from a bottle of Nirvana

finding the magic between, here and then,

the moments which appear
within alternative dimensions
words heard behind C string notes the decisions
we are destine to discover

behind the poster a band is beginning to set up their stage

insights into what was, and then what could be
beaded philosophies of the past
somewhere between our different beliefs,
and the waiting,
lie the images of what each of us dreams
our youth giving each of us
a different perspective to the consequences of change

admiring your courage for all the reasons that I do

sharing with you all that I understand, between
crimson king palaces, and
the places where the ideas of independence
are kept alive

the shadows of the past having visited our future
the song sounds of Nature the mid late night voices of meaning

your decision
was an inspiration to the calling
for World Democracy

This poem is
Dedicated to James Jeffords
the Senator, of Vermont
for his devotion to the Environment

the pharmacy is open 24/7

the kit guide through express glitter rail boundary’s
the dilated system of dark matter
a Lark’s song playing behind Hair Krishna
graphic’s
pyramid stones on the other side
of tower jazz factories

June flowers
the traffic toast stories
you hear
over the loud speakers at the corner of Hyde Park
butterfly noise's written on the walls of Justice
pretty lady standing in the crowd
the fragrant carol behind the realization
of beauty
letters to the King
high heel walk's under black umbrellas
the bridge across the Bay
the cemetery where you wake each morning

the Great Elephant is gone

a field of moles a paroled moon
civilization
specks inside a school play-yard
the natural flow of things
the revolution
recording going back to times of the beat
a captains love
the road to Tibet a taste of honey under snow capped stars
and still it’s raining
outside
the view of discovery
regardless of your nationality
regardless of your religion or your creed
the symbolic messages of One
the times you’ve thought about it

faith
the conspiracy in words

an Imperial dress

pigeons flying above the circus

happy birthday my love

here are my absent ideas between chance and
what I believe is happening

Good Night Angel

late evening before open window
below crescent moon
table lined with fruit the stories we've heard
of offenders lingering about
the misunderstandings
of the heart the demise of a generation
lost without even knowing

the deliverance of truth by someone so innocent

the long shadow caste over her love a rhythm of passion marked by death
the deeds of those who dare to question the decisions made behind close doors
the people who loved her taking over from here no more sacrifices to trinity

a declaration to honesty where each of us agrees to an oath
to take care of one another universal laws based on common sense
no one here needs to go hungry no more distractions from natures resources
a world where everyone receives certain given benefits no more land mines

a world were those who contribute to life can do so without interference or fear

the war of the people without religious sanctions
a submission to truth based on the preservation of life

let us make a pledge to a society which does not take
acceptation but makes allowances for the misfortunate

i know there is nothing here
for us to prove
that we are only here until we die
so while we are a live
lets try to remember
like her if we believe
that we can agree
with all the difference
we have between our different beliefs
then maybe we can live together
and take care for this world we share

i believe this was the greater purpose she believed in
that we could all agree on
that there must be something here we can hold on to
the revamping reconstruct
of the third industrial revolution
we could change the world over night if we decide to

each of us taking on the responsibility
of making a difference by our actions

as 1 race of people we could enter our tomorrow
with so much to offer good night angel
and thank you for sharing with us your strength your caring and your love

© All Copyright,  07/27/00, Joseph Mayo Wristen.

© All Copyright,  Joseph Mayo Wristen.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.