Agent


A

Genuinely

Erroneous

Nauseating

Travesty.


Poet

Prays

Orbit

Evokes

Tact.

Artist

Abstract

Radical

Tweaking

Image

Sculpting

Taste.

Witty Epitaph's 1-11

A dirty old man rests below
so loved his wiener
he named it Beau.

Here lies Lizzy Crass
her farts refrain
stench surpassed
a runaway train
into the prairie grass.

Codependent

After Electricity

It is pre-dawn
the lights have just gone out
the cause as yet unknown.
Coffee thankfully
has been pre-set and brewed.
The hot-tub steams silently.
The still water beckons
as I plant my aching bones
settling into the sultry depth.

The roosters crow at distant stars
their raucous
contest continues
as the sun begins its ascent into
a cloudless blue, tinted with pink
and orange. The palms stand
stiffly at attention. The Ko’olau peaks
loom like ancient warriors, awaiting the
first battle cry. And I hunt and peck
one-handed, continuing on
as if nothing has happened.

There is still much work to be done.

The end of our era approaches.

After electricity our words
will remain housed within dusty tomes
temporarily stifled.

We will have to seek them out
search over hill and dale
for there was and still is, treasure there.

Diseased Minds

Some days are easier.

The battle rages on
between self- doubt
and change. They are
taking bets on the side lines.
The odds are against us.



Listen up

patriots. We are at war.

The front lines need to stand firm.
There is no room for MIA thinking.
Every empty space needs to be filled
with tough love. We will not tolerate
deserters. Deserters will be rounded up and sent
back for another series of anti-venomous thinking shots.

Stand FIRM. Stay your ground.
Look them straight in the eye.

Terror lurks there!

They feel it too, beneath the slip
of darkness when there is no one to
turn to. It torments them with false
promises. It leaves them without a pillow
hungry, tattered and pasty.
Look at them. They are what remain
blankly staring at the yellowed pages
suffering through the holocaust and barking mad.

Forgotten Age

Right this way

ladies and gentlemen.
You are about to be amazed
astounded, electrified, and personified.

Here before you are the devitrified pillars.
Step this way to hear about it
to see the unbelievable waste that it was,

yes it’s true!

Right here before your very eyes
you will experience
the awe and
the majesty
of the most powerful
ferocious
beast of the modern age.

We will take you back
to its humble beginnings
then show you more at its peak.
We will reconstruct its rise to power
and ultimate downfall.
It was once
one of the greatest
super powers on the planet.

Watch it now as the cancer
chips away
at the facade, as it falls
and crumbles below.

Sir, please be careful
don’t feed it.

We lost a couple
just last week
they didn’t speak the language
couldn’t read the signs
which are clearly marked.

They got too close, wanted
a few extra pictures and BAM.

It ate them whole, nothing left
just a stain on the floor
dark and desiccated.


All right folks

move along now.
Keep your hands inside
the barrier.
Around the next corner
we have another exhibit
just as thrilling.

Affliction-Slam poem

Most of us suffer from some form of it
if it isn’t drugs or alcohol
its cigarettes, coffee, exercise, gambling, shopping, SEX or FOOD.
We overindulge as a society
It is our RELIGION
and then we deny it.
We’ll tell you that you are CRAZY
We suffer from a DISEASE
therefore we need HELP.

We are not ACCOUNTABLE for our actions.
We stopped being accountable in the sixties
and it has morphed into the beast that it is today.
We changed the world alright.
Congratulations—Madam
we have a gazillion
afflictions and we BELIEVE that it will
take some hard work to get back
to normal.

When did we start
believing the lies?

We believe that we are insignificant.
We believe that life is a poker hand.
We believe that once you are afflicted
that there is little to be done, you have to live with it,
the devil made me do it.
Just swallow that knot in your throat
it will be alright in the morning.

But the morning has come and gone
and here we are fixed in front of our computers and the TV

waiting for the savior
waiting for that asteroid
waiting for 2012.

We believe in aliens, Big Foot,
the paranormal, and WAR.

We believe in pressing 1 for Spanish
and 2 for English.

We believe that being rich or powerful
or rich AND powerful will solve
most of our problems.
We follow the movements of
TV and film stars like they have
the secret to creation.

We just need to do what
they do, wear what they wear
eat what they eat.

We will put up with just
about anything, so long as it
doesn’t change any of our plans
or alter our thinking.
We want to give it all to GOD
all our problems, choices, suffering.

We want HIM to fix us, fix the country
fix the planet, fix the universe.
FIX EVERTHING, so we can
continue to do whatever we want.

We pray for an answer
but he has answered.
GOD is on strike!
He gave us all that we need.

The balls in our court

It's the last quarter of the game
the final tournament.

The sun is setting

on our parade.
Kiss your sorry
self serving issues
goodbye.

Departures are coming for you!

All aboard!

Go on
get in your sleeper
cars, this train is
bound for Affliction.

New Year’s Ku 2011

Traveling showers
greeting, leaves damp calling card
moist samples attached.

Baby New Year coos
gurgling resolutely
promising nothing.

Last year exhibits
spectacle throughout islands
waves smoky salute.

Man’s best friend staggers
whines for ear plugs and gas masks
caustic revelry.

Common Mynas perch
squawk at swaying Manila
fronds, surfing air waves.

Nature reigns supreme
on pacific tropic isle
snowing lava peaks.
Man of war jellies infest
Waikiki inundated.

Surviving Cigarettes

You know maybe it’s just me

but I don’t need to walk around
with a heavy sign around my neck
that says I am a recovering cigarette smoker
that it has been twenty years since my last drag.

I don’t need to go to meetings
or confess my cravings
which I honestly don’t remember.
I don’t need the pat on the back
or the camaraderie of fellow ex-smokers
to get through another day.

I sent that bitch packing.
I buried it
said a few words
and left it to rot
where it belongs.

I didn’t look back.

Some friend
it soiled my lungs, hair
and clothes.
It yellowed my teeth
wrinkled my face, turned me into a liar
and a sneak. It made me miss out
on special times with friends and family.
It was a selfish, conceited bully.

It made me believe
all sorts of lies.

It was never satisfied
always wanting
more and more of my attention.

It had me fooled
spun me up like a top.
I forgot about food, I lived on diet soda and one meal a day.
It was the first thing I reached for in the morning
and the last thing at night.

I woke up to its trickery
I slowly learned that
I had other choices
that I didn’t have to be a victim
or a hostage
to this friend.

So I quit that habit

dropped it
for the cheat that it was
and suddenly food tasted better.
My car
house
and my breath smelled cleaner, sweeter
attracting positive friends
like health and fitness.

It brought things like
memory into sharper focus
reversed the damage to my lungs
gave me a life free from chronic bronchitis
made my immune system
more resistant to infection
and speeded healing.

My so-called friend
had been killing me inch by inch

guaranteeing me a
one-way express ticket
to the dirt and ash concert
but I decided to postpone
that rendezvous.
I know that time
will come soon enough.

In the meantime
I have too much to do
too many things to experience

so many doors to open

reawakening the child within
reminding me of
simplicity and common sense
of how things used to be and
could be again, if I just let it be.

Retesting boundaries
and exploring

beyond my comfort zone

way past where
any of my old friends
had ever gone
or will ever go.

Twelve Steps for Kicking a Bad Habit

1. Stop it.

2. Kill the fucker.

3. Bury it deep.

4. Say a few choice words.

5. Stay away from others with the same bad habits. (They can have different ones, nobody’s perfect)

6. Tell everybody, secrets are toxic.

7. Say no to Bic lighters, pipes, needles and other bad influences.

8. Find a new positive hobby. It’s your choice, decide.

9. Get Healthy- start by taking a walk and not jumping to conclusions.

10. Get a dog who will love you, no matter what other crazy shit you do.

11. Meditate.

12. Believe in yourself- know that you will drop this cheat, learn and move on.

An Old Violin

He once knew could still remember

which buttons not to push?

He once knew how to coax a smile

elicit a wish.

Grandpa may have pondered over
the cost
long before
time’s door clamped tightly shut
before the last flames were extinguished
what they
would resort to
to get
and keep that soulful instrument.

He must’ve known
how they would
justify their crime
long into the black night
when he was rudely awoken
by the last howl of the refugees
now silent and
covered by venal snow.

Christmas

Clarence the angel
Has to earn his wings.
Raring to go
It’s been two hundred years
Since he died.
The hour draws near.
Mary and George Bailey
Are ready for a miracle.
Sweet blessings are fulfilled this night.

My Shadow

My shadow left
last night. He fell
heavy down the stair
bent the frame of my life
and lay
eyes glazed half shut
on top of the damp cement.

He left
waiting for me
to pick up his peaceful sleep
heave it into the back
of my pick-up
and deposit it
without ceremony
into a dumpster.

The loss crushes
squarely,
tamps
down my ambition
leaves it to drown
in a surge of regret
searching for logic
in a meaningless well
of recent history.

He left me
to find my way alone
through the green valley
now gray from a traveling flood
deep within the Ko’olau range.

I am sleepless but not defeated.

I am empty inside
without your wet nuzzle.

I will remember you warmly
throughout these shadow less days
to come. I will recall

you pitching your chew bone

high into the clouds
and then catching it firmly and
gently within your canine grasp
your muscular frame racing to meet me
following and inspecting my
every move, I am lost
right now without you, my loyal shadow.

Preview: Letters to a Prisoner by Connie D.

Preview: Letters to a Prisoner by Connie D.


https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1075242

Loose Optimism

Cool sun
dries dark tear stains
red tea roses climb up
a gray wall barricade dead house
dreams crushed.

Black couch
leather harvests
mold spores, dead insects mass
along border, red spiders head
clean-up.

Red rose
rescues spirit
blackness leaves horizon
pregnant with well-fed deceit
black hole.

House waits
for new owners
to repaint ruddy walls
black fish jump, swim pond’s boundary
life peaks.

Red sun
trails moon
lifts morning’s black cover
chasing loose dreams like a lover
best prize.

Habilitat Presents: Cornelia DeDona: Letters to a Prisoner

Happy Holidays!

I will be on local TV in Hawaii in January, put this on your calendars and thanks for watching!

Habilitat Presents: Cornelia DeDona: Letters to a Prisoner

1/11/11 Tue 6:00 pm FOCUS 49

1/12/11 Wed 1:00 pm FOCUS 49

1/13/11 Thu 8:00 am OAHU 52

1/14/11 Fri 3:00 pm FOCUS 49

Bumbucha Dreams

Bruno and Zeus stay howling.

Da blast
skyrockets me towards Pluto
where I crash land.

One blue-tongued plutonian
points at
plenty kanes, all named Lars
in der bebadeez.

Dey ski past.

Shoots, I follow dem.

Seconds pass, I ripped
from da blue tundra
by one nodda wail.
I spock da ambulance
speeding from da North Shore.
I stay talking Italian
to one Russian tita
wit one blue smile.

I drink one beeg Slurpee.

Da siren no’moa.

I ski to da fewcha
wea ereteeng blue.
I jettin wit Willie K.
on top da ocean.

Garrens!

Wat dat mean cuz?

Christmas Scent

Pine needles leave trail

carpet stairs with fresh clean scent

boosting sapped spirits.

Red Sunrise

Demands


surprise

blazes hot before your eyes.

Drips sublime

from its climb

trade winds leave

scarlet weave

crimson blush

dazzling brush.

Goodbyes

Goodbyes drift westward

pink skies shower, enfold cliffs

leave their wet embrace.