The Dictator’s Dream or The Son of god Trembles
By Mike Zone

He was dreaming of cats again. Looking for something pure. He wanted to be pure. He was pure…or they said. The black and white kitten was now a full-grown memorial balloon coming down on the citizenry of Seoul, spreading a noxious green gas turning them to what he loved best…cats, this would be his City of Cats, now that the Divine Empire had been rendered officially victorious.
K’s father would be proud, only it was not past tense but the here and now. A technicolor ghost of gray uniform and glowing golden Buddha skin and he was there presenting him the Gatekeeper of Eternal Paradise, Chamchi The Cat…get it? Translated into dumb Americanese for the dotard President Triumph, Tuna the Cat, get it, the cat is named after what it enjoys to eat when it is in fact not what the cat is?
Ha-ha. K was funny even as a child and his father rewarding him his dead reborn cat at the moment of triumph when Triumph and the rest of the world who opposed him was just cinders and ash.
He cuddled his illuminated and cosmically soft feline friend from childhood who long ago disappeared with a mangled leg never to return and wept tears upon the earth from the cloud in from which he hovered above the dry dead lands, tears of bliss and purity rejuvenated and fertilized what was lost and from bombed out husks of continents grew vast fields of rice patties and trees of water fruit bearing infinite arrays of fish from within.
The world would no longer go hungry again.
The Great Leader had won. The Son God had never trembled and bowed before his father ready to be anointed as God himself, sending his own father to a blissful rest in the grateful ever expansive wave of forever.
K awoke.
The Son of God awakened to another day.
Glory to The Leader.
Three looming attendants chanted.
Gold featureless masks and black cloaks.
“Morning is here. The Son of God does not tremble. Oh, save us from universal mourning, Oh Son of God. We surrender to your salvation.”
He was curled up in the womb position in order to be reborn each and every day and time he slept.
“Great Leader, we strive for you, yearn for you. Oh, Great Leader save us from darkness, lead our childish sinful hands to the light.”
K knew he was really rolled up like a ball and could have cared less. There were no cats in this sterile white room, nor clouds even though his bed felt like one.
“Dawn! Touched by the Great Leader! The Son of God, does not tremble!”
K tumbled out of bed. The attendants scampered around, prostrating themselves before him as if it were a grace and delicate birth.
He had his boots on. He was nude. The attendants pounded their fists on the floor, beat their chests and wept on how unworthy they were to be in Great Leader’s presence. He swayed back and forth groggy from his afternoon slumber which was needed for the first three hours of his day diplomatic duties depleted his being.
The door slid open and three white clad virgin brides entered. Virginal though they were, they were still impure seeking something pure much like he was, but was he pure to begin with and if he himself was pure without knowing it, wouldn’t that make everyone else just as pure, possibly divine? Best not to consider anything of the sort, there were no cats here, ergo how could he really know anything?
The needled plunged into a fat roll, his rotund finger recoiled, shuddered and all of a sudden K stood straightly erect like a rocket ready to launched overseas delivering thunderous flames of liberation and blessings. The dwarven virgin hair down like a common street girl, threw the apparatus down which was quickly picked up by a guard. The vial it was connected to contained a cocktail of vitamins needed to keep the Great Leader ever vigilant and healthy at the height of perceptive power.
K felt a comforting warmth engulf his blood vessels, an electrical current circulated through bone and sinew, blooding rushed like a typhoon to his private member, “Chamchi Junior” in honor of Tuna the Cat who he always held in the most intimate part of his soul, hidden from even All-Father God and Supreme-Leader, his father.
His mother knew but Mother May I no longer existed, nor did she ever as he was repeatedly told.
“K, you have no mother.” His maiden-wife proclaimed.
The cocktail of vitamins silenced these thoughts as his cock swelled toward the trio tale, disrobed, and setting on all fours before him. Mechanically the virgins spat and rubbed themselves wet to receive the poison he must spew from his system in order to cleanse the dirty realm with his cleansing seed. He chose the plump one to the left with the pigtails and thrust himself inside her.
            “I love you, oh Son God.” She cried in a forced moan, gyrating in a dramatically staged ecstasy.
The other virgins rolled around, reaching toward the sky.
 “Will the Great Leader ever one day choose to love us?”
K pumped vigorously away hoping to end this filthy exercise as soon as possible. The theatrics emotionally wounded him. These women didn’t love him nor would they ever just as he could never love them. They acting within the mechanics of which they were created for. How could he a man of flesh and blood descended from Heaven love a machine?
Once upon a time, when he was dreaming of cats…a herd came to him in a dream, they spoke without moving their lips, eye broadcasting ray of thought transforming into images in his brain, the secret language of cats.
He plunged all the way inside his virgin bride as she wept begging to be impregnated. The rest of virgins weeping at their missed chance to take part in divine conception.
K was not yet God only the son he quivered at what he started to remember but didn’t want to explode just yet inside this robotic girl for lack of pride and remembered the set of purple doors which opened to the golden hall his cat friends had shown him within his dream; a hallway of glass cases containing all manners of shapes, eyes, noises and mouths, a variety of skin toned doll parts to shape the record of a not yet living being, even the schematics for his wife were plastered across the ceiling along with the schematics of various dispatched concepts for  potential wives and consorts had been,  being or had yet to be.
He climaxed as he put the girl he was inside together from the various parts. There was much rejoicing as the Son of God did not tremble doing his duty with a mighty roar which really sounded like a pig’s squeal but this was the world K knew he lived in until he could find something pure and pretended to blindly accept it as a guard wiped him down, while groveling and simpering how as much as he risked his life he could never be as brave as the Great Leader.
They met eyes. The guard bowed. K stiffened his upper lip and solemnly nodded.
The door slide open and General Shipeo ran into the room and fell on the floor before K. He held his hands out, asking for mercy before the naked Son of God. K stood stupefied as his attendants dressed him in the same gray uniform as he wore day in and day out much like his father The God-King of Neo-Heaven.
“Great Leader, Son of God who does not tremble! The military has failed. The police have failed. The Red-Light District we thought extinguished burns bright with vice corrupting our people and attracting killers from far off lands. We know your burden is great God-Prince of Forthcoming Golden Eternity, a killer terrorizes our unlawful whores and frightens our people…Johnny American, sent by the dotard President Triumph to strike fear into our people, sullies their innocence, I beseech you for our salvation and forgive our failure.”
This was it. This was the purity the cats alluded to in his dreams. The search was over. The quest could begin. K would be pure. The people would be pure. The land would be pure. All he needed was his special uniform to hunt Johnny American for one had to blend in looking like an “American Johnny” to stalk and slay one Johnny American.
He would hunt just like the killer masquerading as an illegal American Tourist would look, needing to slake his thirst in the dim world of the flesh trade. One attendant cut him out of his uniform with oversized scissors, while the other two put him in tapered khakis and a red Hawaiian shirt with gold flowers and fish, crowning him with a white fisherman’s hat but saving the best for last, he would know Johnny American’s every move for the great General Shipeo bequeathed upon him eight-ball sunglasses so he could see the plethora of the villain’s possible moves before any could be enacted.
All fell to their knees before K, praising him as the Son of God who did not tremble and Great Leader who could never falter.
K was all that stood before the Bright Land and the onslaught of American terrorism. He thought about this and the ever allusive purity, dreams, and cats, most especially Chamchi as the chopper landed and he was all but pushed out into the dark alley in his ridiculous outfit, his most loyal men, sacred friends and honorable followers laughing and waving in which nothing felt right. He clutched the M-16 they had given him which felt much lighter than it should have as he had shot them off before and the texture felt so…rubbery but “It is a new type of gun, Great Leader meant to look like a toy to distract and inflict more harm with false perception.” He was assured.
Crimson light flooded the darkness…indeed this was what a red-light district must be like K assumed. He looked around, taking a hesitant step forward gripping his so tight, the perspiration caused his hands to slide off the rubber textured weapon. Good thing, the gun was still slung about his neck with a strap otherwise hope would be gone for President Triumph would stand triumphant with the gates of paradise closed for all eternity.
He wondered where Johnny American could be hiding and shook his head vigorously, the rattling of potential answers slushed around until there was a hiss and a wild growl. The glasses hits the ground as a soft cuddly wind hit K’s face. The lens were broken leaking what looked like liquid onto the trash littered illuminated blood colored sidewalk.
The gray scraggly furred cat with wide insane eyes looked up at him telepathically projecting images turning into words he could read in his mind and hear upon this tangible realm of existence.
“K son of god you are not but more…soon to learn right meow.” The cat scurried away into a dark corner which could have been a black hole, but black holes only existed in outer space didn’t they and weren’t those just western capitalistic fictions to prevent the Age of Gold from being ushered in?
A bloated calico rose from a garbage can, a lid on his head.
            “Fire and fury beckons your land, your people and yourself K. Throw your gun away. Save yourself. You are messiah of the pure, your true father awaits.”
            “My true father? Who are you? How do you know all of this, living in garbage?”
            “I am Booster and it is called a garbage can not a garbage cannot.” Booster sunk back down into the filthy container.
            “It’s okay, K you won’t face him alone. I am here.”
K looked down upon a cylinder-shaped white cat with one eye. He looked young but was scarred with alley cat battles. There was a bald patch on the left side of his body, a jagged scar like a lightning bolt ran along the length of it.  The cat noticed K gazing at it.
            “A human thought it would be fun to lure me with tuna when I was but an innocent kitten yet seeded with feral savagery. He ran piece of broken american cola bottle across me, I tore his throat out with fangs and teeth. He died and I bled dying next to him and in my dying days as we were left unattended to by the rest of our kind I saw what was to transpire for the great good and lived to make my life sacred which was to be here with you now.”
            “What is your name, brave one?”
            “I am nameless, like every great sacrifice never to be known, hidden from the world and knowing eyes.”
            “May, I call you Brave One?”
            “You may call me whatever you may wish, I stand ready to do battle with you. The world of forever dreams and prosperity lies before us and to endure we must be pure.”
            “I see.”
            “You do not but to be blind is to really see…when the sky ignites, look to darkness.”
K did not understood, nor would he fully understand. The Son of God trembled and pissed himself as a hulking form came from the other end of the alley way. Brave One moved aside to avoid the wetness secreted from K and stood ready to pounce with a low growl. 
Like an American horror movie, the massive steroid infused figure came barreling toward them. Johnny American, shirtless with eight-pack abs and muscles looking like they were about to tear open his skin, American flag painted across his face with a blond crew cut and camouflage pants, he had no weapons but a machete. A silver tank embedded in his chest with various tubes pumping a queer vile chemical concoction which seemed to make him a flesh-machine of rage and manic muscle, getting larger and angrier as he charged forward.
            “This is so unfair! I’m just a political science major! Call the President!  Send in Space-force!” Johnny screamed aimlessly swinging the machete.  
K raised his gun and pulled the trigger…. nothing happened. Nameless as he was truly known, rolled his feline eyes and leapt at Johnny American who instantly grabbed him and began to squeeze.
            “Brave One!”
Nameless formerly known as Brave One turned to K as his body was crushed, his sight-orbs popping out from his skull.
            “A spear to the side, a loss of an eye for true insight. My life is no loss but sacred K. Look away dear hearted friend to the sky and see fire and fury toward a better tomorrow.”
K did as he was told. The lights went out. Sirens went off, blocking whatever death rattle emanated from Brave One from invading K’s living audio receptors. Cats did not lie. He knew this to be true. Most especially when in dreams. There was a whistle and the sky was literally aflame. Swirling and coming down toward the ground, melting structures in an eerie silence, like a fictional depiction the world as it was meant to be on the soundstage of reality which didn’t seem all that stable to K despite what he had been told over the years.
“The bastards did it! They really did! Without rescuing us! We show them giants walked the Earth and no one cared!”
K watched as Johnny American wept and plunged the machete into his stomach toppling over the corpse of Brave One as he would eternally be known instead of Nameless as he would have preferred but K would decree otherwise.
            No one should be nameless…He purposefully thought for the first time.
The calico garbage can cat knocked the can over spilling contents of dirty diapers and remnants of pasted canned meals over as he rushed past K.
            “No time to gawk K, into darkness we must go.”
The ground snapped, crackled, and popped beneath K’s feet as the fire got closer. He followed the cat into a black oval located in the corner as flames engulfed everything above, below and beyond what could be void of everlasting non-existence.
K was where he belonged. He sat on a golden throne in a round room of violet and gold.
 A stack of pies; cream pies with fish parts stuck out of them, tails, fins, eyes, and complete open faces.
Towers of pies accompanied by marble columns and millions of cats sat before him.
            “Welcome home son.”
K looked up to see Chamchi, like the miniature tiger he was so unlike a tuna, curled on his own golden throne, levitating before him with a sly grin and a pie sitting next to his tail.
This is pure. K thought purposefully for the second time in his existence.
            “Yes, it is.” Chamchi replied aloud. “Let the purrification begin right…Meeoow!”
He flicked his tail, the pie flew from his seat and smacked K right in the face…tuna and cream, how divine. Cats and human threw pies and chased each other every which way in a slip sliding cacophony of bizarre laughter…
K woke up.
He was dreaming of cats again.
Searching for something pure.
He had his boots on.
Naked with dried semen on his stomach. His wife’s robotic parts strewn all over canopy bed. Circuitry and wire protruded from her cheeks and forehead. Chamchi walked up to him and stretched with an epic yawn.
            “Sometimes you have to hurt the one you love, K.”
K awoke…
He dreamed of cats…again…
Nude except for boots…  
He wanted to be pure.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Final Frontier

Sally got home from her nature guide conference after being gone for a week.  She was surprised to see an envelope with her name on it in Duke’s handwriting propped up on the phone.  He used to send her little love notes, but with his recent problems, he had dropped the habit.  Could he finally have some good news?

“Sally, there is no way to make this easy.  I’ll be dead when you get this.”

After the first line, Sally sat down and started to cry.  It was five minutes before she could resume reading while still sniffling.

“I didn’t tell you how painful and humiliating the first dialysis was.  You may think that I had some hope of getting a kidney transplant.  I was able to keep other health problems from you that ensured that I wouldn’t be around long.  I also have liver cancer.  No idea why I bothered with dialysis, I won’t be around long, so why keep hurting when the end is near?”

“You were too good to tell me ‘I told you so’, but I certainly deserved it.  Every time you tried to keep me from smoking, drinking and overeating, I fought you.  The hacking and coughing, the blood in the urine, there was nothing that I wouldn’t ignore.  It is all on me.”

“Besides trying to protect me from myself, you were so good to me in so many ways.  When the DMV wanted to pull my driver’s license, you went to bat for me to keep my license.  When I wanted to invest half of our money in my crazy brother-in-law’s get rich scheme, you talked me out of it.   You saved me from having the crap beat out of me by the neighbor that hated the loud music I played in the backyard.  Eddie forgave a lot for your scrumptious apple pie.”

“If you knew how dire my situation was, you probably would have wanted a few more weeks together, but you know what a whining baby I am.  I would have been miserable, and I would have made your life miserable.  That is why I’ve been on my best behavior the last few weeks.  No whining about your hair or the time you spend on the phone.  Finally, I’m acting as I should have all the time that we have been married, so I hope that I get a few points.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with the grim details.  I will take a bus out to the Gorge and get off somewhere, and then climb up, avoiding trails as much as possible.  Do you remember I wondered if there was any place in Oregon no one had ever set foot?  I hope to find such a place where I’ll never be found.  I was able to get enough fentanyl to kill me.  Remember how much better I felt at emergency when I got it in the IV?  I hope that and the brandy I’m taking will get me a feel-good passage to oblivion.”

“I loved you since we met.  You deserved better than me.”

Appears in Soft Cartel

Golden Paradise

By Chinese Poet Hongri Yuan

Translated by Yuanbing Zhang

Gold birds, ah!

Flew above my head

A golden ribbon

Spreading out to me from the sky

I saw the golden mountains

Smiling at me in the distance

The layers of airy pavilions and pagodas

Standing in the purple-red clouds

The gardens in the sky, ah！

The exquisite pagodas

The bridge of golds and gems ah！

Arched across the vast expanse of the Milky Way

I saw a giant

Waving to me in the sky

Stood on the propitious clouds

Shining millions of rays

The huge figure ah!

Like a high mountain

The golden dragons!

Fluttering around him

A round of sun, ah！

Shining above his head

The golden robe, ah!

Burning in the halos

I saw his magical eyes

And couldn’t help thinking of the remote past

Ah,hundreds of millions of centuries ago 

We once got together happily

You were both my great teacher

And also my close companion

We created together

The countless heavenly paradise

Your golden smile, ah

Made my heart beat lightly

The glistening tears ah!

Lingered in my eyes

Your holy hands of giant, ah!

Hold tightly with me

You dressed me a golden robe

Which was embroidered with dragons and phoenixes

The words of gold, ah!

Flew in your breast

And turned into the mysterious light

Shining in your eyes

I understood your gleamy words

And my heart laughed brilliantly

A round huge sun

Burning over my head

You opened the city gates of gold for me

And watched me crossing the huge garden

A lofty palace

Shone in front of my eyes

In the transparent white jade railings

Carved with the beautiful patterns

The steps made of the rubies

Reflected the smiling face of the sky

The huge column of gold, ah!

Carved with the wonderful flowers

The layers of eaves were hight above the sky

Like the golden birds spreading in the clouds

A holy old man

Stood majestically in front of the palace;

his body was as transparent as the flame

Sending out the resplendent red light

Your bright eyes, ah!

Contained the purple-gold flames

There are golden dragons

Circling around the golden staff in hands

Your high forehead, ah!

Rose like the mountains

The layers of purple-gold flames, ah!

Wreathing around your body

The golden lightnings, ah!

Shining in your bright eyes

I saw the rounds of sun

Burning in your head

You opened the door to the palace

And took me into it

A huge palace

Smiling at me in the sky

I saw the books of gold

Arranged in walls of the palace

The lines of gold words, ah!

Shining the charmingly light

The holy old man, ah!

Let me sit in the palace

To read the books of gold

And drink the good wine of wisdom

He raised the golden staff in his hands

Sent out the golden lights

The huge books of gold

Flew into my chest

The lights were shining before me

And I saw another sight

The countless gold giants

Flying lightly in the sky

The multi-coloured transparent sky

Many airy pavilions and pagodas

And the happy girls

Dancing and singing in the sky,

A young giant

Hold up the sun

In a transparent mountain top

Sending out the bottomless light

An old man with gray hair

Stepped on an auspicious cloud

And stood stilly in the sky

Smiling at the giant

A huge golden mountain

Which was transparent and gleamy in flames

Turned into a palace

And a exquisite gold pagoda

The young boys and girls

Riding with the colorful husbands and wives

Shed the multi-colouredflowers

And which turned into the Gardens

I heard an intoxicating tweet

A huge phoenix

Carried a roll of golden books

Flying towards me from the clouds

The lines of mysterious words

Like the stars

Arranged into the singular figures

Shining before my eyes

A huge white crane

Turned into a young girl

who opened a treasure casket

While flashing a golden sword

A round piece of jade

Carved with the dragon designs

And there were the lines of words

Flashed the dazzling light

An old man with gray hair

Rode a kylin

Which flew leisurely in the sky

Carried a sword on his back

A huge sun

With a golden palace in the central of it，

revealed a young Prince

Reading the golden books in the palace

A huge mirror

Flashed in front of my eyes

A bolt of lightening

Awakened me in my dreams

I went back to the palace again

The magical old man

Still held the golden staff

And stood in front of my eyes

The golden books, ah!

Still shining on the walls

But the words of gold, ah!

Singing exactly in my chest

The huge golden statue, ah!

Flashed the dazzling light

The holy old man, ah!

The kindly smile appeared on his face

The layers of purple-gold flames, ah!

Surround me all around

The stars with much light, ah!

Shining in my body

I saw a huge golden crown

That few out of the old man’s hand

And turned into a sun ah!

Which embedded in my forehead

Suddenly a flash of lightning, ah！

Went into my eyes

I saw a gold pagoda, ah!

Shining in the sky

A golden giant

Stood with smiles in front of the pagoda

A gold garden

Embraced the golden pagoda

The holy giant

Took me out of the palace

A white crane was called in

And flew to the sky with me

It was like a white light ah！

I came to the pagoda in the twinkling of an eye

The huge pagoda of gold, ah!

Was higher than the mountains on earth

It was more than ninety thousand floors

The height of each floor was ten thousand meters

It was like a universe

Containing the countless worlds

The countless suns, ah!

Shining on the floors of pagoda

The multicoloured stars, ah!

Constituted these wonderful designs

The countless dragons, ah!

Flying around the huge pagoda

The lines of wods of the stars

Shining in the transparent walls of gold

The golden giant, ah!

Wore the diamond armor

Smiled at me briefly

And opened the door of the pagoda for me

On the huge door carved with gold

Mysterious patterns were convex and concave

Like the countless stars, ah！

Spinning in the golden space

A golden palace, ah!

Were full of wonderful giant flowers;

The huge gold tripods

Burned in the raging flames

The giants were sitting

On the purple-gold pavilions

They smild at me joyfully

Like the long time parting families

The golden winding stairs

Coiled round the columns of the palace

Like the huge golden dragons

Flying into the sky with their head held high

I saw a huge ball

Which was in the middle of the palace

Like a clear and transparent crystal

Rotating the golden pictures

There seemed to be countless worlds

Fashing leisurely in the crystal

The golden paradises

Made my eyes drunken

The wonderful bells

Suddenly sounded in my ears

The giants that were sitting

Sang the thundering songs

The songs were like the golden lightning

Shining in my body from all quarters

My heart was empty suddenly

And saw the things of billions of years ago

Originally I myself builted

The huge pagoda of gold

The lines of stars on the golden wall

Just were the poems that I had written

The smiling giants ah!

All of them were my former partner

The huge crystal balls ah!

Were a golden universe

The golden pagoda with more than ninety thousand floors, ah！

Contain the countless the times and spaces

Like a golden staircase of time ah！

Linking up with the countless heavens

Into the stars that had been turned by time ah!

It’s the sacred words

Each of the golden poems

Created a paradise

The huge golden tripods ah!

Burning the flame of time

Smelted out the countless stars

Forming the universes

The countless giants were sitting

On the transparent pagoda of gold

The light of their songs

Turned into the rounds of sun

I saw the crystal sky, ah！

Rotating outside the golden pagoda

There seemed to be countless golden pagoda

Shining in the sky

I seemed not to exist

And turned into the boundless light

The countless huge pagodas of gold

were just in my luminous chest

The countless giants who were sitting up

Smiled at me on the golden pagoda;

Their dazzling smils, ah!

Flashed the golden eternity.

3.22.1998

Bio:

Yuan Hongri (b. 1962) is a Chinese mystic poet and philosopher. His works has been widely published in journals and magazines internationally in UK, USA, India, Mexico, New Zealand, Canada and Nigeria. He has authored a number long poems including Platinum City, The City of Gold, Golden Paradise and Golden Giant. The theme of his works is the exploration of human prehistoric and future civilization.

Yuanbing Zhang (b. 1974), who is a Chinese poet and translator, works in a Middle School, Yanzhou District , Jining City, Shandong Province, China. He can be contacted through his email- 3112362909@qq.com.

黄金乐园

  远红日

黄金的鸟儿啊

在我头上翻飞

一条黄金的飘带

从空中向我展开

我看到一座座金山

在远方向我微笑

一层层的亭台楼阁

矗立在紫红的云间

一座座空中的花园啊

一座座玲玲的金塔

黄金和宝石的桥梁啊

横跨  辽阔的天河

我看到一位巨人

在空中向我招手

站立在祥云之上

闪耀出万丈光芒

巨大的身材啊

像一座高山

一条条金龙啊

在身边飘飘

一轮太阳啊

在头上闪耀

金色的长袍啊

在光环中燃烧

我看到他那神奇的眸子

不由想起久远的过去

在亿万个世纪之前啊

我们曾在一起欢聚

你是我伟大的师长啊

也是我亲密的伴侣

我们一起创建了

无数座天上的乐园

你那黄金的微笑啊

让我怦然心跳

晶莹的泪水啊

在我眼中萦绕

你那神圣的巨手啊

和我紧紧相握

你为我披上了一件

绣着龙凤的金袍

黄金的词语啊

在你胸中飘飞

化成了玄妙的光芒

在你眼中闪放

我听懂了你那光芒的词语

心中灿然欢笑

一轮巨大的太阳

在我头顶上燃烧

你为我打开了黄金的城门

目送我穿过巨大的花园

一座巍峨的金殿

闪耀在我的眼前

透明的白玉栏杆啊

雕刻出美丽的图案

红宝石砌成的台阶

映照出天空的笑脸

巨大的黄金的圆柱啊

刻满了奇妙的花卉

一层层凌空的飞檐啊

如云中展翅的金鸟

一位神圣的老者

在殿前巍然站立

身体透明如火焰

发出灿烂的红光

你那明亮的眸子啊

含着紫金的火焰

手中的一根金杖啊

有金龙环绕盘旋

你那高高的额头啊

像山岳一般隆起

一层层紫金的火焰啊

在你周身缭绕

一道道金色的闪电啊

在你的明眸中闪耀

我看到一轮轮太阳

在你的头颅里燃烧

你打开金殿的大门

带我向殿内走去

一座巨大的金殿

高高地向我微笑

我看到一部部金书啊

在金殿的四壁内排列

一行行黄金的词语啊

闪耀迷人的光芒

那位神圣的老者啊

让我在殿内端坐

阅读那一部部金书

畅饮智慧的琼浆

他举起手中的金杖啊

发出一道道金光

那一部部巨大的金书

飞入了我的胸膛

我眼前光芒闪耀

看到了另一幅景象

一个个黄金巨人

在天空飘飘飞翔

五彩透明的天空

一座座亭台楼阁

一个个欢乐的少女

在空中起舞歌唱

一个年轻的巨人

手托一轮太阳

在一座透明的山巅

发出万丈的光芒

一位白发的老者

脚踩一朵祥云

在空中静静站立

向着巨人微笑

一座巨大的金山

在火焰中透明闪光

化成了一座金殿

和一座玲珑的金塔

一个个少男少女

跨着七彩的鸾凤

洒下了缤纷的花朵

化成了一座座花园

我听到了一声醉人的鸣叫

一只巨大的凤凰

衔着一卷金书

从云中向我飞来

一行行玄妙的词语

像一颗颗星辰

排列成奇特的图形

在我眼前闪耀

一只巨大的白鹤

化成了一位少女

打开了一只宝匣

闪现出一把金剑

一块圆形的玉器

镌刻出龙的花纹

还有一行行词语

闪出耀眼的光芒

一位白发的老者

跨着一匹麒麟

在空中悠悠走过

背上一把宝剑

一轮巨大的太阳

中央一座金殿

一位少年的王子

在殿内阅读金书

一面巨大的镜子

在我眼前闪过

一道闪电

把我从梦中唤醒

我又回到了那座金殿

那位神奇的老人

依然手持金杖

站在我的眼前

那一部部金书啊

依然在四壁闪耀

可是那黄金的词语啊

就在我胸中歌唱

那座巨大的金像啊

闪出耀眼的光芒

那位神圣的老者啊

面含亲切的微笑

一层层紫金的火焰啊

在我周身环绕

一颗颗光芒的星辰啊

在我的身体内闪耀

我看到了一只巨大的金冠

从老者的手中飞出

化成了一轮太阳啊

嵌入了我的前额

倏然一道闪电啊

化入了我的眼睛

我看到了一座金塔啊

在天空闪耀光明

一位黄金的巨人

在塔前微笑站立

一座黄金的花园

怀抱着这座金塔

那位神圣的巨人

带我走出了金殿

召来了一只白鹤

载我向天空飞去

仿佛是一道白光啊

我转眼来到了塔前

这座黄金的巨塔啊

比人间的山岳还高

大约有九万多层啊

每一层高达万米

仿佛是一座宇宙啊

包含了无数个天地

无数颗太阳啊

在一层层塔上闪耀

五光十色的星辰啊

构成了奇妙的图案

无数只龙凤啊

环绕着巨塔飞翔

一行行星辰的词语啊

在透明的金壁上闪耀

那位黄金的巨人啊

身披钻石的铠甲

向我微微一笑啊

为我打开了塔门

黄金雕刻的巨门啊

凸凹着玄妙的图形

仿佛无数个星辰啊

旋转在金色的太空

一座黄金的殿堂啊

开满了奇妙的巨葩

一座座巨大的金鼎

燃烧着熊熊的火焰

一座座紫金的楼阁啊

端坐着一个个巨人

向我欢喜地微笑啊

仿佛是久别的亲人

一座座黄金的旋梯

盘绕着殿堂的圆柱

像一条条巨大的金龙

昂首向天空飞去

我看到一个巨球

座落在殿堂中央

像清澈透明的水晶

旋转着金色的画图

仿佛有无数个世界

在水晶内悠悠闪现

一个个黄金的乐园

迷醉了我的双眼

一阵阵奇妙的钟声

在耳边倏然响起

那些端坐的巨人

唱起雷鸣般的歌声

这歌声如金色闪电

从八方向我照耀

我心中顿然空明

看到了亿万年前

这座黄金的巨塔啊

原是我亲手建成

那金壁上的一行行星辰

是我写下的诗篇

这一个个微笑的巨人啊

都是我当年的伙伴

那一颗巨大的水晶球啊

是一个金色的宇宙

这九万多层的金塔啊

包容无数的时空

像一条时光的金梯啊

通达无数个天堂

时间化成的星辰啊

是一个个神圣的词语

每一部黄金的诗篇

创造出一座乐园

那一座座巨大的金鼎啊

燃烧着时间的圣火

熔炼出无数颗星辰

构成一个个宇宙

这座透明的金塔啊

端坐着无数个巨人

他们的歌声的光芒

化成了一轮轮太阳

我看到了水晶的天空啊

在金塔外旋转

仿佛有无数座金塔

在天空中熠熠闪耀

我仿佛不在存在啊

化成了无际的光明

那无数座黄金的巨塔

就在我光明的胸中

那无数个端坐的巨人啊

在金塔上向我微笑

他们那灿烂的笑容啊

闪耀出金色的永恒

1998.3.22北京

Pain is Perception

Does everyone have a measured quotient for the amount of suffering to be experienced in a given lifetime?

Is Pain a language encoded in our DNA so that it may relay information from the body to the mind ?

It is the sharp recognition of danger issued as a command so that the body itself may attempt to survive situations that would render one harm.

Pain is personal and comes in a myriad of levels and a host of different reactions.

I once thought of pain as something like a litmus test for one’s character,

Does the response merit the condition?

Will we cower and crumble or laugh in its face?

Others may judge us by our unfettered, immediate coping mechanisms when we are forced to put them on public display.

I see it in the milky glaze of your pleading eyes begging the question: “When does it end?”

Pain serves a purpose in the human petri dish we find ourselves swimming in.

Pain sets the rules and it also defines the limits in our all too frail human realm.

A reality we have subconsciously agreed upon that has now become much more than we can tolerate.

Lonesome Deity

Have I so quickly fallen from the fickle memory of man?

How soon temples crumble, stone erodes, yet alone I stand with the power to crush lives, to inspire madness or delight as I turn to face the unfathomable burden of responsibility that remains solely and sorely mine.

No Gods, no Heroes,
only women and Hector
 
 
The misdirected vengeance of Hera.
Grey-eyed Athena’s wrath and jealousy,
and Dionysus, bringer of merciless punishment –
(feral mother ripping the limbs from her son, unknowingly,
but when awakened, an internal bonfire grief
beyond extinguishing.)
 
Hector was the only noble hero –
shouldering his course and obeying his love.
 
Crafty Odysseus tossed baby-Astyanax from the towers of Troy.
Crazed Achilles knew only the fury of his passion as he
flooded Scamander with the cut-up corpses of his mad rage.
Ajax the Great impaled himself in service to his affronted ego,
and Ajax the Lesser – a coward rapist of the prophet pure Cassandra.
 
Give me one-eyed blindness, stay on the path, past
Hecuba and her wild rivers of unfathomable suffering – childless
when once a mother of many, Queen of an honoured realm.
 
Give me Electra over Hera with her young-woman’s devotion
and subterranean heart, tied to a father that would have killed
her as he did sister-Iphigenia
on the pyre-offering of war, victory and fame.
 
Give me a settled glory – my God of Mercy instead of candles, Jesus
instead of Apollo’s thick sensuous thighs or golden curls,
demanding matricide of Orestes.
 
Give me Helen in her betrayal of red-haired Menelaus, Helen,
daughter of the Swan, lover of pretty-boy Paris, Helen,
mascot and scapegoat of war, but never the cause.
 
Give me Clytemnestra over Agamemnon, daughter
too of the Swan, bearer of a mother’s authentic wound -
Iphigenia lost on the bloody rock
by obeyer-of-Zeus, mighty-father
Agamemnon’s royal hand.
 
Zeus, kind only to sycophants,
Zeus, serial adulterer, user of woman,
sire of many children, lusting as the sunlight lusts
for Earth, to seep warmth into her crust
and heat up the whole of her surface,
demanding offspring life.
 
Give me Penelope over
teller-of-tall-tales, Cyclops-outwitter,
slaughter-of-suitors Odysseus.
Penelope, with her patient intelligence weaving,
unweaving, keeper of fidelity
for twenty years, holding her own
up against the plight of a woman’s, even a Queen’s,
accepted inequality.
 
Give me steadfast Antigone,
crowned by an ancestral curse,
champion of funeral rites,
brother’s defender, daughter-guide,
caregiver of a doomed once-king,
embracing her savage fate with magnificence.
 
Give me poor Io, chased in her heifer-frame
from flat plains to cliff ridges
to Prometheus’s cursed crucifixion to
finally a resting point in Egypt –
Poor Io, ancestor of the brute-blooded Hercules,
who claimed madness-by-Hera turned him
into a murderer of his wife and sons,
who was no Hector, only
undefeated.
 
Give me Andromache’s zodiac-fingerprint,
for she held Hector inside the cavity of her loins,
and he loved her, and for a time, they both knew
happiness.
 
  
 
Because,
 
 
Because there is a child,
there is infinity and grace
like a grape, crushed, filling the
senses – exotic abundance.
 
Because there is love between lovers
the broken shelf doesn’t need replacing,
the pond can dry up and no one will lack fresh water.
 
Because a mother’s love has no limits,
it stretches past darkness, obstacles,
remains fierce and tender at once.
She knows herself less important than that love and
all else perishes beside its glowing depths, worthless.
 
Because when others fail in love, God does not,
picks up the slack – gives promise like a shield or like
a bucket full of rainwater.
 
Out of chaos the primitive gods were born -
divinity separated to be comprehended, grasped loosely.
 
Because there is one God,
because there is Jesus – hands, feet –
the threshold of freedom in eternity.
 
Root yourself here. Tie the ribbon.
The ditch is now a road.
 
Because of mercy and forgiveness,
mercy as forgiveness,
we all have won.
 
 
 
Sand
 
 
Kick the tree.
The tree is a bone
cut out from the Earth.
Jump on the pavement and crack
it with the force of your rage.
 
Withering is not an option,
white-knuckling it
at the hidden horizon is keeping
you alive.
But it is futile, an out-of-tune song
wrestling for a harmony it will never find.
 
Praise the shellfish, the moles underground.
A world of faith is forming on your tongue –
you can taste it, but it is not enough
to satiate.
 
Release desperation and the anger that follows.
Feeling imprisoned was your default position
when being shepherded into reality.
Now you are new like Adam and like Eve
you died in brutal increments
and in brutal increments
you are being reborn from time,
unlike Adam, unlike Eve.
 
The stream you see is a blessing. The wind
is all around, and sometimes when listening,
it is faraway instruction. Other times,
it topples you over from its reeling power and at that time
you know for certain God is God
and there are no substitutes or shortcuts
or sure-fire prophecies
that will ease the fear of unknowing.
 
There is just that wind that says
‘Go here’ ‘Go there’ and when there,
maps out
an unexpected direction.
  
 
Centre-Faith
(while dreams swirl all-around)
 
 
Soothsayers and seers and shamans
have children, have the same
rising and falling stars,
cannot say “This is truth”
“This will happen”
There is only God’s voice in the now,
leading to the next step and only
that step until the voice comes again.
 
Even in times of constant accepted prophecies,
the intelligent threw their crystals,
took notes of the pattern
but balked at the interpreters.
Journeys to the Navel-stone were daily –
whore-kings and crushed-citizens
sacrificed animals and even slaughtered
their own offspring
on the advice they were told.
 
But God is one
and God is permanent
and us,
being tied to time,
are not privy to visions into the future, no vision exact –
we are all equally blind, and that blindness
is a gift that opens the door to faith,
 
free-falling in our days,
fortunes and misfortunes,
arms open to God’s ways and grace,
open like a painter choosing his colours
like a poet, her words.
Open
ecstasy in the listening,
surrender in the execution,
gleaming, gloriously summoned
into immediacy, into an all-demanding
autonomy.
 
 
 
A Dream Suspended
 
 
Sinking in the void, held by
nylon line and my eye sees nothing
but that void, cannot turn to the
sunny above or straight ahead to
the insect landscape and daffodils.
 
So the void spreads and sprawls, and then
starts to whisper – touching the shadow
to my skin, making promises
that haven’t even begun their manifestation.
 
Visceral futility stronger than fear
as I dangle over that blank-space reality,
and there is pressure like living gravity pulling me,
tensing the hold, wanting me to snap
and plunge into pure nothingness,
become the state of vacancy, have no frame,
no barrier or beating pulse.
 
It is winning, I hear
the creaking
with even further taut suspension and
my weight grows, nearing that midnight twist.
 
A dream suspended that has my whole future in its hold.
So I call out for help like I have many times before.
 
Do I strike a match, pretending it is a star?
Hang like the tarot hangman over that dull and ruthless ache,
swing a little and I might feel the possibility of a breeze?
 
I dreamed myself untied and running, sometimes
skipping, brimming with a joyous equilibrium.
 
I dreamed there was no void, only a place
of still-time, a purgatorial interlude as I shift
from this flow into another.
 
 
 
Light that came
 
 
Light that came
from the unending grief -
black-hole of pity sphere,
riding, sucking in, swirling
doomed to perpetual collapse.
 
Light that came
from hours caught in madness,
thrashing in the ribbon-tied, lock-chain
shadow centre - vacuum plague, persistent
as a wild current and just as impersonal.
 
Light that came
and broke the shell,
reached in and lifted, lifted me out of
the drowning water. That light is
a cold mercy, a sharp sword as my only defence -
detach - slice the limb that offends and watch it
bleed with indifference.
 
Light that came
to a changeless darkness changed
everything once maimed
so it could walk again.
 
Light as a miracle, whispered -
don’t give hell power,
separate yourself, cage it,
and when you feel ready,
kiss its forehead, sing it a song
- lullaby, lullaby.
 
  
 
Glory, believe
 
 
Glory, believe
the evidence is clear,
brought to a boil and
now boiling over.
 
World molested by greed,
indifference and distraction.
The pitch has elevated to burst
the eardrums. Scavengers are
scavenging and nothing is left.
Old ranks topple, protection is
a thin veil, fear overcomes prayers,
prayers that kept us sane.
 
Children and animals are the new Earth’s aristocracy,
Bless this time of turmoil - setting
everything upside down, right side up.
 
Jesus still walks the barren roads,
sandals in one hand,
at ease with whatever is to come.
 
Let me walk - a servant
yet absolutely free to not serve.
Let me make an oath to the celestial night,
an oath to replace panic with faith and
uncertainty with light everlasting.
 
I see the light everlasting,
the wheel that is not a wheel
but a sphere.
  
 
 
Exit Door Closed
 
 
Down
because the flame is still holy
but the moon’s cold cloak
has won.
Leaning into the crossing over,
sweet exhaustion, the love of
absolute rest.
 
Is this what the fish feels
after minutes on the hook, on the dock,
or the rat gasping in the trap,
lunging, flailing before finding
the peace of death?
 
Fear is not a name, keeps no company with surrender.
Holding the reset rose in my hand. I see colours
that please me, the brush stroke of renewal
and a house true to its inheritance.
 
Every hero eventually dies,
and their mourning is made
into a ritual.
Light of God, kinder than a mother’s wing,
richer than the formation of a new constellation.
 
My arms are enough,
even my meagre successes seem sufficient,
infused with Your light,
taking away the pressure of existence,
keeping pace with duties
and the honouring of dreams.
  
 
 
 
Stark Relief
 
 
Blundering, in disguise -
a gift masked in disease,
tongues imploring forgiveness,
love tested at its roots, glorious
as mountains.
Boredom and fear meeting in unison,
finding a strange fulfilment behind locked doors,
venturing to walk in the open air, take hikes,
sit by the lake-waters and dream, alone.
A gift that doesn’t carry a typical joy,
but breaks down the superficial slaughter
of what is truly meaningful, simplifies the one thing,
the all thing, that connects and is worthy of attention.
Love in illness, love at death, love in gratitude
for the lifeforce we have been given - its sacred mission,
not meant to be plundered on distraction and greed.
God is the only safe ship left to climb aboard on,
the only ship afloat on this burning sea.
 
The gift has come, and yes like everyone,
I am afraid. In my mind,
I join the people singing,
raw in mutual fear and faith,
a collective voice, harmonized, joined
from balcony windows.
 
  
 
The light has gone out.
 
 
Nothing is plenty or even sufficient.
The door opens, but there is no escape
just the long wait under an isolated sun,
walled up in fear and deficiency.
 
It could have been completed, sealed
into the account but darkness hammered
the blush from blooming, and yes, the lesson
to see was written on the Stonehenge, in
the past lives in an ancient Athenian tribe or
when setting five-alarm fires on the moon
when you were a golden muscle, ripe
and violently ending anything soft.
 
Greed gave you all the cards, opinions that
lacked a spiritual dimension. It will not come
until this ecstasy is laid flat.
 
You see – O Tantalus!
You see the stain that created your torment, unearthed.
Walk on it, shed its blood and let it bleed out
its deeply embedded drive and expectation.
 
Hell is individually formed,
a private backyard betrayal.
 
Walk into the shower,
let it cascade down and dissolve this last
unseen-before glitch – see it, wide-eyed
and say ‘forgive me’ say it and
be free.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Allison Grayhurst is a member of the League of Canadian Poets. Four of her poems were nominated for “Best of the Net” in 2015/2018, and one eight-part story-poem was nominated for “Best of the Net” in 2017. She has over 1,260 poems published in more than 490 international journals and anthologies.
In 2018, her book Sight at Zero, was listed #34 on CBC’s “Your Ultimate Canadian Poetry List”.
Recently, her work has being translated into Chinese and published in "Rendition of International Poetry Quarterly" and in “Poetry Hall”.
Her book Somewhere Falling was published by Beach Holme Publishers, a Porcepic Book, in Vancouver in 1995. Since then she has published sixteen other books of poetry and six collections with Edge Unlimited Publishing. Prior to the publication of Somewhere Falling she had a poetry book published, Common Dream, and four chapbooks published by The Plowman. Her poetry chapbook The River is Blind was published by Ottawa publisher above/ground press December 2012. In 2014 her chapbook Surrogate Dharma was published by Kind of a Hurricane Press, Barometric Pressures Author Series. In 2015, her book No Raft – No Ocean was published by Scars Publications. Also, her book Make the Wind was published in 2016 by Scars Publications. As well, her book Trial and Witness – selected poems, was published in 2016 by Creative Talents Unleashed (CTU Publishing Group).
More recently, her book Tadpoles Find the Sun is soon to be published by Cyberwit, August 2020.
She is a vegan. She lives in Toronto with her family. She also sculpts, working with clay; www.allisongrayhurst.com
 
 Collaborating with Allison Grayhurst on the lyrics, Vancouver-based singer/songwriter/musician Diane Barbarash has transformed eight of Allison Grayhurst’s poems into songs, creating a full album entitled River – Songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst, released 2017.
 
            Some of the places her work has appeared in include Parabola (Alone & Together print issue summer 2012); SUFI Journal (Featured Poet in Issue #95, Sacred Space);Elephant Journal; Literary Orphans; Blue Fifth Review; The American Aesthetic; The Brooklyn Voice; Five2One; Agave Magazine; JuxtaProse Literary Magazine, Drunk Monkeys; Now Then Manchester; South Florida Arts Journal; Gris-Gris; Buddhist Poetry Review; The Muse – An International Journal of Poetry, Storm Cellar, morphrog (sister publication of Frogmore Papers); New Binary Press Anthology; Straylight Literary Magazine (print); Chicago Record Magazine, The Milo Review; Foliate Oak Literary Magazine; The Antigonish Review; Dalhousie Review; The New Quarterly; Wascana Review; Poetry Nottingham International; The Cape Rock; Ayris; Journal of Contemporary Anglo-Scandinavian Poetry; The Toronto Quarterly; Existere; Fogged Clarity, Boston Poetry Magazine; Decanto; White Wall Review.  
 
 
 

What's Going On?
Here come thoughts
feelings and impressions
Everything you wanted is somewhere near
I pick up the phone
Check the info
Check the world
Alot is still there
You dream of women, podiums
Children
You put more bricks in front of your day
People are smarter than you and you are glad
Feels strange to be someone to look up to
Do you remember your bottom?
When you were twenty and knew even less than now?
I picture humans in white coats and laboratories playing with white mice
They are smarter than me and should be
I wanna know where the best minds go on their Instagram vacations?
Some write that Nikola Tesla lived a life of virginity
What is mind glamorous about that?
There is plenty of mind in your life
Somethings have to go
 
 
 
I lay My Head
Besides my body
I had tired of it
The music that came from it’s
Speakers were too loud
And I listened for too long
Other people’s voices in young days
Or the call of things in the future
I felt my eyes and nostrils constantly.
Breath in and
Breath out
Blinking into obscurity
My body didn’t need that head thing
Making of stories and creating words which make you suffer
Now headless. The lungs and heart do the the work
Breathing and beating.
No anxiety and sorrow
My former head spoke to me
At a distance
pick this thing back up and experience life boy
but, you were making me crazy my friend
Why should I unite with you?
without me you cant express the world
I liked you a lot of times head but
my depression, the anxiety, you gave
my friend seem to burn the bones and blood
of this body
why should I put you back on my head?
  
 
What’s Happening
Nothing
Just trying to survive
Ya knowing hating things
Loving things
Breathing trying not think
Too much
Thinking too much
You can’t really help this
Because you have grown older
And the times escapes from you like thin papery thoughts
Oh you wanna get married
Oh you want a sweeter occupation
And sometimes you want nothing at all
And what should you do when you feel this way?
Nothing
Sometimes you have such a sloppy heart.
Nothing can or will love you
Till completion.
 
Casino Frogs
I’ve never seen one before
Coming here
Frogs they are so small
Like little bugs or tiny mice
They are so sluggish too
They line up at the casino entrance.
I don’t know why they do this?
With the woods and big river around
They are easily squashed along the walkways.
I think I’ve probably killed a few while taking a long walk to the car.
Most of the time, they hop out the way.
These little things
Little things that move so slowly
Without a scream when crushed.
So tiny, but not as tiny as ants
And so easily removed from my conscience
How easily they hop in
And easily they hop
Out of the world.