The Sky Path

They say that life may have come to the Earth
on a meteor kicked up from the Martian plains
by some asteroid gone astray,

They say that life may have come to the Earth
on a meteor kicked up from the Martian plains
by some asteroid gone astray,

or it might be the byproduct of star factories,
churning out chiral molecules in interstellar space,
to seed far flung worlds.

If so, then where is my home?
And who among us lay rightful claim here,
if only the rocks are indigenous?

And is this why my ancestors believed
that we all return to the stars
to dance in the sky at the end of life?

 

© 2012, Duane Poncy

EnLITEnment

and in those days
we sought enlitenment
that low calorie cool
whip of knowledge,
flagellating one another’s
bourgeois backsides
before the cameras
of the six oclock news
until the pain became
too much to bear

now we spend our days
baring our pain on the internet
watching Fox News
gotcha choppers
sky cams hovering
over half naked starlets
thinking about when
we were the actors
       thinking
if we’d only been smarter then

and in those days
we sought enlitenment
that low calorie cool
whip of knowledge,
flagellating one another’s
bourgeois backsides
before the cameras
of the six oclock news
until the pain became
too much to bear

now we spend our days
baring our pain on the internet
watching Fox News
gotcha choppers
sky cams hovering
over half naked starlets
thinking about when
we were the actors
       thinking
if we’d only been smarter then
     
     
     

the masters have decided

I haven’t posted any poems here for a while. Here’s one for you.

I haven’t posted any poems here for a while. Here’s one for you.

The Masters Have Decided

the masters have decided
that we are too soft in the middle
that our fat-clogged arteries
lack the stamina to keep the blood flowing
to keep the heart pumping
to keep the dollars rolling
click click ching

the masters have decided
that we must toughen up
stop sucking at our mammy’s tit
suck in that gut
carry that rifle, buck that bale
say thank you please
click click ching

the masters have decided
we have all been bad children
go to your room, stand in the corner
no more habeaus corpus for you, sonny
no more health care until
you learn to eat your carbon and lead
now say thank you sir
click click ching

©2007, duane poncy
creative commons license

Editors to be guests of the October VIP reading

VERSE IN PERSON
Wednesday, October 25
NW Library Branch, 23rd
and NW Thurman, 7-8 PM.
Duane Poncy and Patricia McLean.
Duane Poncy and Patricia McLean are poets, activists, performers, and co-founders and publishers of The Habit of Rainy Nights Press, whose first offering was “Raising our Voices– An Anthology of Oregon Poets Against the War.”
Duane, a citizen of […]

VERSE IN PERSON
Wednesday, October 25
NW Library Branch, 23rd
and NW Thurman, 7-8 PM.
Duane Poncy and Patricia McLean.

Duane Poncy and Patricia McLean are poets, activists, performers, and co-founders and publishers of The Habit of Rainy Nights Press, whose first offering was “Raising our Voices– An Anthology of Oregon Poets Against the War.”

Duane, a citizen of the Cherokee Nation, is working on a novel about his ancestors and the history of colonialism in the Americas. With Patricia he is a member of Roadside Bomb, a pro-peace, anti-war performance poetry group.

In addition to poetry, Patricia McLean writes fiction and essays. She is involved in anti-poverty work, and her poetry is heavily influenced by this experience. She and Duane recently collaborated on a mystery novel, Bartlett House.

i dreamed cousin Evo came down

I dreamed cousin Evo
came down from the mountains
carrying a single red rose
clasped firmly in his fist
and beside him walked the ghost of Che
and the ghost of El Libertador
   and the ghosts
of the children
   of the mothers
      of the disappeared
and behind those
came the spirits
of the vanquished gods
Inti and Mama-Quilla
Pia and Makunaima
Kulimina and Kururumany
Ixchel and Votan
Yurakon and Jaluka
Selu, the corn mother
and Kanati, the hunter
Child Born of Water
and Monster Slayer
and after this phalange
there came the immense
river of the people
the lost millions
bearing the deep crimson
flowers of our tears
held high into the air
millions of red flowers
   flowing north
like a great river of blood
       washing away
a half-millenium of history
written in the language of guns
and whips and disease
by the cowboys and the conquistadors
sweeping before it
all of the borders and all of the walls
which seperate us from them
   from all our relations
and they came dancing
into our waiting arms
and the soldiers of the empire
stood mouths agape
dropping their guns
   for they knew
there was no holding back
   the flood
      now

©2006, Duane Poncy

A good show at Valentine’s

Roadside Bomb performed at Valentine’s in Portland last night (our regular second Thursday show), and we were particularly pleased with the performance. We deejayed some of our recorded pieces between poets, which gave the evening a much more dynamic quality.

This will probably be our MO in the future. Hopefully, we will also attract some live musicians to accompany the poetry. If you are in the Portland area and haven’t checked out the show, drop by on the second Thursday at 8 pm.

You can get an idea of what we do by checking out our KBOO pilot podcast at elohi gadugi radio.