Poisoned on postmodernism

Thursday, February 16, 2006

"Johannesburg Mines" by Langston Hughes 

In the Johannesburg mines
There are 240,000
Native Africans working.
What kind of poem
Would you
Make out of that?
240,000 natives
Working in the
Johannesburg mines.

"White Man" by Langston Hughes 

Sure I know you!
You’re a White Man.
I’m a Negro.
You take all the best jobs
And leave us the garbage cans to empty
The halls to clean.
You have a good time in a big house at
Palm Beach
And rent us the back alleys
And the dirty slums.
You enjoy Rome –
And take Ethiopia.
White Man! White Man!
Let Louis Armstrong play it –
And you copyright it
And make the money.
You’re the smart guy, White Man!
You got everything!
But now,
I hear your name ain’t really White
I hear its something
Marx wrote down
Fifty years ago –
That rich people don’t like to read.
Is that true, White Man?
Called the Communist Manifesto?
Is your name spelled
Are you always a White Man?

"Poem to a Dead Soldier" by Langston Hughes 

“Death is a whore who consorts with all men.”

Ice-cold passion
And a bitter breath
Adorned the bed
Of Youth and Death –
Youth, the young soldier
Who went to the wars
And embraced white Death,
The vilest of whores.

Now we spread roses
Over your tomb –
We who sent you
To your doom.
Now we make soft speeches
And sob soft cries
And throw soft flowers
And utter soft lies.

We would mould you in metal
And carve you in stone,
Not daring to make statue
Of your dead flesh and bone,
Not daring to mention
The bitter breath
Nor the ice-cold passion
Of your love-night with Death

We make soft speeches.
We sob soft cries
We throw soft flowers,
And utter soft lies.
And you who were young
When you went to the wars
Have lost your youth now
With the vilest of whores.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

In Progress 

a song in progress

Big man gonna do some damage tonight
had a couple of beers and he's looking for a fight
yeah yeah yeah he's a tough guy
just as long as he's got his friends by his side
real tough guy gonna kill somebody tonight

he's a real queer boy but he bottles it all up inside
he uses fear, boy, he'd like to make you cry

date rape, non-consensual
latent homosexual

Monday, December 20, 2004


Living at this pace is deadly.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Amused me 

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

What's Cooking? 

My new project is a blog collecting the recipes for what I've been cooking these days or will be cooking very soon.


Chef Snewf

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Alternating Frequencies 

Low Frequency

Our brows are furrowed; our nights are spent
in endless worry. Our backs are bent
and our hands still sweat.
God damn regret.

High Frequency

Come, let us kill the spirit of gravity.
Pay homage to my idols
and exercise my underdeveloped sense of wonder.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Ethnic Homesickness 

so I will pave this road til glory
sets our broken spirit free
from every cross soaked nail pours endless rain
with tears though I should see
but they could fill our highest ocean
and the rivers in between
with every blade that flowers must grown then drown
with love, our cruelest sea

so with a wonder and a wild desire
I will crawl from under every weight
With a wonder and a wild desire
Bless the day it was I shared your name
Yesterday forever speaks your grave

-Flogging Molly
lyrics taken from The Spoken Wheel and With a Wonder and a Wild Desire from the album Within A Mile Of Home

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