helix

i

the content of the helix
is chaos
there is no form
that contradicts itself
we hide in boroughs in the winter
warm air and lies
keep the peace
war is for the summer
when birth renews
the winter fucking
and spring renews
the preparation
a well-oiled machine
does run better
but it can’t oil itself
i needs
the common touch
the earth
the trees
the air
so tend the ground
keep it moist
protect what
sustains you

kjg 831am 4 jan 2015

ii

collusion in the works
future of interruptions
the wise seek shelter
in material things
and not the cyber
universe
small as our lives are
the globe has not embraced it
like a virus spreading
one cannot govern
evolution

kjg 513pm 4 jan 2015

iii

shut off from the world
one loses the example of the world
and what example is that
does admiring the oak without the poison
make it safe
where’s the perfect place

kjg 644pm 4 jan 2015

Klaus J. Gerken is on Facebook. Contact him on kgerken@synapse.net and read latest poems in Ygdrasil – a Journal of the poetic Arts.

looking back

don’t you see
it wasn’t me
i wasn’t you
it wasn’t true

we lived together
through foul weather
the waves were lapping
and we were napping

it wasn’t much
there was no touch
a lost endeavour
shared together

the years passed slowly
you called me holy
it didn’t matter
our lives were shattered

there is no ending
just false beginnings
the road less travelled
is to be marvelled

kjg 545am 22 jan 2015

Klaus J. Gerken is on Facebook. Contact him on kgerken@synapse.net and read latest poems in Ygdrasil – a Journal of the poetic Arts.

when the marching’s over

when the marching’s over
what will you do
what will you do
what will you do

marching is my special way
to get out there and have my say
burn the flag make lots of waves
time for us to save the world

but

when the marching’s over
what will you do
what will you do
what will you do

have a beer and watch the news
done my bit and need a rest
have to watch me on TV
ruined my shoes they were the best

when the marching’s over
that’s what we do
that’s what we do
that’s what we do!

kjg 17/21 jan 2015

Klaus J. Gerken is on Facebook. Contact him on kgerken@synapse.net and read latest poems in Ygdrasil – a Journal of the poetic Arts.

reverse psychology

in the springtime of the season
when the scent of lilac reasons
with the rising sun of amber
and passion raises clamour
love grows in the meadows
and lovers hide in shadows
where sunlight does not gather
and lovers know no failure
the spring is like a sailor
somewhat drunk to know her
yet strong enough to offer
the apple to the woman
she does not eat…the omen
wakes her intuition.

kjg 544am 23 dec 2014

Klaus J. Gerken is on Facebook. Contact him on kgerken@rogers.com and read latest poems in Ygdrasil – a Journal of the poetic Arts.

christmas and the needle

away in a manger
in an alley below
a girl’s giving birth
in the ice and the snow
her hair is disheveled
she has no warm clothes
needle marks bleeding
as the morning star rose

merry christmas merry christmas
life is so good
the scent of warm garbage
is inviting as food
she screams and she suffers
god wants it that way
he made eve to suffer
for curiosity’s sake

the streets are deserted
the children awake
to gifts santa brought them
while in bed they slept safe
no joy in the alley
her child lies blue dead
she wraps him in paper
and stumbles in dread

merry christmas merry christmas
a savior is born
in a night of desertion
in a poor part of town
she stumbles to her dealer
she begs for some drugs
he tells her to get busy
“find someone who lusts”

they find her in a snowbank
a crumpled up heap
“another statistic”
says the cop on the beat
“what a great tragedy”
the papers report
no one claims the bodies
“Jesus comforts”

kjg 427am 26 dec 2014

Klaus J. Gerken is on Facebook. Contact him on kgerken@synapse.net and read latest poems in Ygdrasil – a Journal of the poetic Arts.

how does it feel to be real

how’s it feel like that you’re not one of them
that they hate you because you’re different
the monkey does tricks but the circus is not your thing
you believe in yourself but they can’t even think
how does it feel
to be a positive ideal
how does it feel
to be real

the circus performers walk down the street
in chicago or manhattan and wear out their feet
there’s a perfect commitment that they all repeat
but you’re not their servant you aren’t that discreet
how does it feel
to be a positive ideal
how does it feel
to be real

you wear out your welcome even before you bring the dirt in
they can’t stand it when you do your re-sectioning
they’re positively hateful when you dance on the floor
they don’t know the scuff marks are what the floor’s there for
how does it feel
to be a positive ideal
how does it feel
to be real

you talk to tomorrow when they can’t talk to today
they see the horizon when you see the beyond
with a vision so forceful they can’t get in the way
you’re a positive arrangement they try to delay
how does it feel
to be a positive ideal
how does it feel
to be real

you wake up in the morning breathe the fresh air
while they cough their lungs out with tobacco eclairs
they’ll be happy to see your demise and dance on your grave
but you’ll linger long after they’ve lost their enclave
how does it feel
to be a positive ideal
how does it feel
to be real

how’s it feel like that you’re not one of them
that they hate you because you’re different
the monkey does tricks but the circus is not your thing
you believe in yourself but they can’t even think
how does it feel
to be a positive ideal
how does it feel
to be real

kjg 509am 1 jan 2015

Cultured


he travels to italy
and eats pizza and spaghetti
he travels to france
and orders hamburger and
french fries (he’s in
france after all!)
he travels to england
and doesn’t know what to order
“they’re so strange over there
they have nothing we eat here”
he travels to las vegas and says
“what a fantastic place!
they have delicious food
from all over the world!”

kjg 550pm 5 dec 2014

The Rose

i cannot deny an arrangement
that shattered what dead men reveal
the living can no more reclaim it
than a raft could be made out of steel
it’s the tale of an angel that wandered
from the realms of the heavens to hell
were this angel not love i’d deny her
for she left me alone when i fell

i stumbled upon a commitment
which made her and i into one
body and soul knit together
tight as the tightest of bonds
but somehow through time’s interaction
somehow through love that was lost
somehow through greed and it’s savior
we bargained and ventured the cost

the night is as dark as it’s ugly
the bed is surprisingly cruel
no blanket to warm this reaction
no lover to wake up this fool
the dream of a rose turns to anger
when the rosebushes gather a crown
and this madman adrift on a feather
swallows his pride just to drown

a broken love
a token love
a flavour of what has been lost
tell me my love
what is above
and what is revealed in the frost?

Copyright (c) 1989 Klaus J. Gerken

The Spirit of CATHAR

Sheep graze on the hill below Montsegur
Not far from where the martyrs prayed
The shepherd does not wonder much
about the place: he knows. He says:
‘It was after all my friends and family
‘who died in flames before the dogs.
‘I still retain no love for catholics.
‘I am cathar. My life is in these hills.

‘I sometimes, when the sheep are grazing
‘walk into the citadel and early in the morning
‘when the dew is fresh and air is crisp
‘I can hear the whispering, and these poor souls
‘surround you, telling of the horror
‘and the martyrdom the goodmen faced.’

Copyright (c) 1992 Klaus J. Gerken