Create your own Poetic Libretto (16 pages of poetry and photos) and send it to donkingfishercampbell@gmail.com. Your Poetic Libretto will be posted on this site and you will be invited to perform it at a Poetic Libretto Jubilee on Saturday Afternoon Poetry's Zoom channel early next year

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Daze of the Dead by Don Kingfisher Campbell

 




Don Kingfisher Campbell

Daze of the Dead

 

a poetic libretto


 


 

1 > A Slice of Dead Tree (1997)

2 > Room for the Dead (1997)

3 > Dead Still (1997)

4 > 2,000 Dead (2006)

5 > Semi-automatic Suicide (07 05 2015)

6 > Little Boy at the Beach (09 03 2015)

7 > Dew drops on a dead leaf (08 25 2022)

8 > Morning for the Dead (10 18 2023)

9 > the sun is burning (11 09 2024)

 

 

 

1 > A Slice of Dead Tree 


I am alone

in this mourning

 

making progress

with my arms

 

I want to hang

myself from a tree

 

--not like somebody's

wet clothes

 

I could try to find

the deepest part

 

of the stream and

become a rock

 

For I long to

blend with landscape

 

because infestation

molests what I see

 

Makes me desire to

tear off my clothes

 

eat them

remove culture

 

Let my hair grow

in the movement of air

 

let the sun take

what it wants

 

I'll stand

until I can't

 

I'll sit

until I sleep

 

I'll lie

sacrificing my time

 

to the forces

--shape me!

 

Help me understand

what I have to do

 

to be leaf

I've come here

 

to view grains

my fingers trace

 

the sand

for a direct line

 

I'm not just

a visitor composing

 

'cause you've

given me the ability

 

Someday I'll return

again to try to

 

merge into your

simple beautiful colors

 

 




2 > Room for the Dead

 

All these dead bodies in our room.

Books by the dead,

the soon-to-be dead,

or the someday-will-be dead.

Figurines.

Shoes and pants strewn on the carpet.

Marilyn Monroe hangs on the wall.

Stereo makes the dead sound alive.

TV, the dead look....

Shirt and blouse crumpled atop the dresser.

Life Fitness exercycle unused

in the night.

My wife and I in the living room

fucking.

 

 



3 > Dead Still

 

I'm a small gray rock

lying on the dirt

beside a twisted tree

on the edge of a library

parking lot.

 

I've been here seven years now.

Little excitement.

Occasional pelting of rain.

Weekly gardener with a blower.

Lots of car exhaust.

 

I hear footsteps every day.

The babbling of humans

calms me. Reminds me

everything is temporary.

I lie and wait for change.

 




4 > 2,000 Dead

 

(a found poem in section A of the 10/26/2005 Los Angeles Times)

 

in the 2 1/2 year conflict. There are now 140,000 troops stationed in Iraq.

Diamond engagement rings in platinum available from $3,960 to $1,000,000

Roadside bombs are responsible for more than half of US combat deaths.

Shutters as low as $15.95 per square foot installed with free sandblasting

National Guard and Reserve units account for one third of the deaths.

Dinnerware originally created for the Czars in Russia, 5 pieces $1,000

Exxon/Mobil reports record quarterly profit of 8.7 billion dollars.

Savings of 50% and more from Dicker and Dicker Furs of Beverly Hills

International pressure on Syria: Bush says force may be necessary.

A simply beautiful bench designed by Gustav Stickley Sale $599 Retail $1,285

The Roman Catholic Church covered up sexual abuse of young by priests.

$200 off and free installation Home Closets Most credit cards accepted

Alleged slumlords donated to L.A. city attorney Rocky Delgadillo.

Halloween Special...no sales tax on most digital compacts

In Latin America the battle over legalizing abortion is heating up.

Building nest eggs since 1937, Fremont Investment and Loan

 





5 > Semi-automatic Suicide


When my best friend lived

Next to Lancaster we would ride

To the Walmart so we could go

Order a bag of dollar

Cheeseburgers from McDonald’s

Eat them at a table

Talk about the economy

 

We never got pulled over

On the way maybe

Because I was the driver

 

Friday night two men

Walk down Avenue K-4

To 30th St. W a residential area

With a Hellenic Center

On the corner a great place

To celebrate your day

 

They get stopped by gang

Unit plain clothes

 

Words are exchanged

One of them whips

Out an assault

Pistol from his jacket

 

That was all it took to start

A firing squad of detectives

 

His buddy ran away

In the hubbub

 

Deputies pick up the gun

From the lying body

 

Establish a perimeter

To catch a friend

Scared for his life

 

I made a phone call to Marvin

To give him the news

 

Heard him say he’s staying

Inside tonight


 



6 > Little Boy at the Beach

 

He looks like he's sleeping

Wet hair seemingly combed back

 

Soaked red tee shirt and blue shorts

Shoes still on

 

He must have been tired

Face down on the sand

 

Gentle waves pushed him

To the Turkish shore

 

The only tell-tale sign

Is the swelling of his ear

 

Whispering sweet dreams

Of a better world for everyone

 

 



7 > Dew drops on a dead leaf

 

The giant goes for a walk

under the blazing sun

              

The behemoth steps and steps

on long concrete sidewalk

 

A small insect traverses the

width of a rectangle just ahead

 

One gargantuan sandal darkens

the sky above the bug only briefly

 

It was the last thing it ever felt,

a mindless accident of location

 






8 > Morning for the Dead

 

A procession of black umbrellas across a grassy valley

To the peaked memorial mountain where a gold cross

Shines in fiery light as birds file over corpsed graves

Extended to silently reach for remembrance of illusory

Mourning in which some still believe geography divides

When we are all the same detritus feeding the ground

Only one red-covered mourner acknowledges he follows

This sad pack, observes their breathing for passing hours

The dynamic daily destruction that doesn’t need our help

We are decorated finite presences on bountiful rich land

Today he will tell them time is just a perceived measure

For a flock who forgets they merely move moments since

Nothing else waits but lives on for perpetuated endings

Filled fallow minds finally comprehending the merger

 




9 > the sun is beaming

 

red flowered bushes

open and receiving

me too I love to be

warmed as a flower

makes my skin forget

everything else going

on round this big globe

taking in the solar

seemingly invisible rays

yet I can see no matter

what we do on earth

the system will continue

long after I'm dead and

you, kinda makes me

want to hug your body

before we dissolve

back into space dust

which to think of it

we've been all along

maybe we can float

together proximate

forever past eons



Wednesday, October 2, 2024

Question Mystery by Don Kingfisher Campbell

 


a poetic libretto

Kingfisher

Question

Mystery

 

1 > Poetic Sol (1997)

2 > Fun-da-mental Quest-ions (11 23 2013)

3 > Ars Poetica (10 09 2015)

4 > Questioning the Masters (04 11 2016)

5 > Questions from The Broad (12 18 2016)

6 > MMT Love (08 11 2017)

7 > Olympic Questions (02 19 2022)

 

 

 

1 > Poetic Sol

 

sitting on steps

of the public library

 

the white stone steps

warmed by the sun

 

street traversed

by squealing car sounds

 

palm trees lined up

heads to the breeze

 

blue sky background

high above one blinding

 

eye shouting

action! 




2 > Fun-da-mental Quest-ions


when I breathe

is this how the wind

feels constantly exchanging

parts of spirit

 

when I sneeze

is this how a geyser

feels releasing jet

because it tickles

 

when I cough

is this how a blowhole

feels expelling

material caught inside

 

when I shiver

is this how an earthquake

feels for moments

spreading throughout the land

 

when I cry

is this how clouds

feel when they can’t

help but rain

 

when my heart flutters

is this how the earth

feels when we

test bombs

 

when I fart

is this how a fissure

feels letting out

pent-up gas

 

when I pee

is this how a waterfall

feels all

the time

 

when I shit

is this how an undersea vent

feels extruding mantle

onto sea floor

 

when I vomit

is this how a volcano

feels inside

erupting outward

 

when I swing my hand

is this how an asteroid

feels to hit

another orbiting body

 

when I spin

is this how a planet

feels rotating

every single day

 

when my mind blows

is this how a star

feels when it supernovas

in all directions

 

when I come

is this how God

felt in the big bang

… and afterward



3 > Ars Poetica

 

Like a painter

Capture the spectrum of surroundings

The red numbered calendar

The yellow banner with black letters

The green plastic footrest

The hanging blue panty

 

Like a sculptor

Feel the texture of objects

The round ebony headphones

The rainbow of tubular highlighters

The moon cone cobalt desk lamp

The smooth silver cellphone monolith

 

Like a musician

Use words to make music

She lies on the other side of the wall

Naked under percale sheets

In a dark room where the ceiling fan turns

Her voluptuous voice beckons me to come to bed

 

Like a dancer

Play with movement and space

I lean back in the swiveling chair

Crunch mandarin orange seeds in my mouth

Spit them into the bagged waste basket

Get up to waltz to the bedroom

 

As a lover

Put your feelings in

Until you can’t feel any more

I want to spend the rest of my life this way

Making love to description

Before, during, and after sleep

 


4 > Questioning the Masters

 

Shakyamuni, if I tip my fingertips to the ground will I achieve enlightenment?

Buddha, will there someday be a statue of me with only my feet remaining?

Ganesha, will my love of sweets make my stomach burst?

Guardian, am I a happy lion when it comes to protecting my tribe?

Winged Figure, can I support my cosmos with a hand?

Ribera, will my sense of touch help me learn the paragon of forms?

Saint Francis, must I pray for the concentration necessary to accept death?

Van Gogh, will foliage move me to see sky and hillside as relief?

Klee, is knowing another head better than seeking energy in geometry?

Munter, can I feel the essence of things in simple colors?

Warhol, can I manufacture art parallel to others who manufacture art?

Von Huene, can I say Karooooo to the daymare of a dress in the wind?

Hefferton, am I money I can decorate as I please?

Hurtados, can my body become a living work as well?

 


5 > Questions from The Broad

 

Did you forget to wash the dishes?

Wish a bouquet of shiny flowers was waiting for you upstairs?

Do you like to immerse yourself in comics?

How about other media?

Jackie O, Marilyn Monroe, Cowboy Elvis,

and more wanted men?

Would you find pleasure in saluting an artistic flag?

Lose yourself in blocks of primary colors?

Have you looked into the eyes of a single man?

Did his beard match the hair on his head?

Was his forward stare much like your own?

Have you ever dreamed of having three penises too?

Is the fire burning in your cabin intentional?

Why does a tear fall on your cheek?

Are you worthy of a crown as well?

When you glance in the mirror do you feel like a fake?

Remember when you could peer up at a dining table?

Ever vomited money, suckled the teats of society?

Does your jaw slacken at America in bright lights?

With the shadows of the oppressed including you?

Who doesn’t adore a nice bite in the neck?

How long have our heads been hanging upside down?

Why do we construct a god out of darkness,

Missing a hand, featuring only one good eye?

Is a dead fish on newspaper a true sign of our culture?

Do you crouch and ponder the meaning of what lies on the ground?

Would you create a poem for your tombstone?

Prefer it in running signage on the wall of a museum?

Where have you declared out loud your needs in two words or more?

Why does this wig have a hole in it?

Can a brain take in all the peering pupils, pursed lips, toothy grins?

Even once been lined up with friends under a gun?

Etched a message to aliens on beach sand?

Saluted helmeted leaders of history, because they were just actors?

Stand on the shore waiting for a ship to drop anchor?

Or simply think outside in your purple nailed open sandals?

Are you an exhibit walking past the side of a colossal building?

 


6 > MMT Love

 

in this

Magical Mystery Tour

of life

I’m your

Fool On The Hill

 

Flying

trying

to find a

Blue Jay Way

of loving

 

Your Mother Should Know

too

I Am The Walrus

when it comes to

Hello Goodbye

 

I’m wishing for

Strawberry Fields Forever

in our lives

a happy

Penny Lane

 

I declare

Baby You’re A Rich (Wo)Man

because

really

All You Need Is Love

 


7 > Olympic Questions

 

Ski jumper, you know you look like a flying

squirrel when you spring in the sky, don’t you

 

Luge (and Skeleton), how does it feel to be a bullet

rocketing down an open barrel (head first)

 

Alpine skiers, are you speeding down that hill like

someone who forgot to turn off their car alarm

 

Snowboard racers, do you enjoy being a gang

of four hopping over speed bumps made of snow

 

Cross country, why do I think of you as a human

Hot Wheel forced to row two sticks up snowy track

 

Speed skaters, you seem like a hip grandfather

clock when you swing your pendulum arm, no

 

Women’s hockey, two Chinese dragons guard

the net, is that a powerful mindset, or what

 

Skating pairs, do you love flinging

your partner in the air (I’ll wait)

 

Curling, who can scrape the smooth clean

kitchen floor of ice most efficiently

 

Slope style, do you think you live to twist and

twist and twist and twist again

 

Bobsled, isn’t this an amusement park ride

(sure looks like one)

 

Ski cross, you appear to start like a penguin

and turn into a shark with fins, right

 

Figure skaters, why is the Russian girl so

triple axel athletic over the others

 

Mass start, you begin together as a centipede,

yet seek to split apart for individual victory, yes

 

Daze of the Dead by Don Kingfisher Campbell

  Don Kingfisher Campbell Daze of the Dead   a poetic libretto     1 > A Sl...