What ever happened to the Ask ME buttons?
Those helpful, charming, simple Ask ME buttons?
Formerly seen proudly on the chests
and shirts of clerks at the hardware,
grocery, book stores across America.
Buttons that made this country great!
They offered reassurance, solace, comfort-
if you have a question, ASK ME.
Ask ME: I am willing to answer any question
you may have about the reason
that you are where you are at,
and offer suggestions to possibly
quicken you along in your journey.
Ask ME: My answer may surprise,
entertain, astound, inform, upset, or beguile you.
Ask ME: Perhaps I will make you think,
and like the Chinese Coen, answer in the form of a question?
Ask ME: perhaps the information I have
may have nothing to do with what you are looking for,
but have everything to do with what you need.
What happened to these simple helpful prompters
designed to make life more enjoyable?
like a Smiley Face wishing you
to Have a Nice Day.
Perhaps these buttons were a symbol of an era
that had a work ethic we have become too busy to support?
Perhaps they were the last vestiges
of Communism in our midst
that had to be eradicated as we won
the Cold War and tore down the Berlin Wall?
Perhaps they disappeared as the torch
was passsed from a self-centered generation
to a blank generation labeled generic,
for it was ill-equipped to deal with the questions
that it was inundated with or never asked.

Do I have a theory on the Iran-Contras: Ask Me.
Do I know what happened to Noriega and why we took back Panama: Ask me.
Do I know who engineered and benefited from the S&L Scandal : Ask me.
Do I have a solution to the 1000 year war in the Middle East: Ask me.
Want to know who set in motion a plan to make sure the family Dynasty spanned two Centuries, assuring the largest bank embezzler in history never gets tried, a President non-elect can be Dictator, the First Amendment is equal to treason, America lines the pockets of the few by battling two ideological wars it can never win, and allowed Right to Privacy to be no more than jingle to be sung as you are locked away, prosecuted, convicted, and executed for no reason: ASK ME.
The unexamined life is not worth living.
Those ignorant of history are doomed to repeat it.
Question Authority.
The Truth shall Set you Free.
Were these philosophies to help self-actualize a democratic society,
or just fashion put away by a nation too scared to regain the status quo?
ASK ME.

Deadly Force
Kevin TONG McCameron

There is a force in the world

that wants to kill your children-

It will rip your babies from your arms

Steal them away

and put them in harm’s way

with lies, deceit and obfuscation

for it’s own betterment (benefit)

leaving you thankful

for the empty promises made…

It is a force so powerful-

so evil-

It transcends generations, race, creed,

Religion, Union, Nationality & Stations.

It wants, it wants, and you are its fodder.

The face of Human Tragedy

Hangs in the Mirror.

You are the string between it’s teeth

your children, the tinsel from it’s tail.

The machine is set in motion

your children the cogs,

their blood the lubrication.

No longer just the best and the brightest

Often the poorest and weakest,

The world is not enough.

Chameleon faced, forked tongue, Personality cult… (BANG)
I am…

I am want.

I am avaricious. (BANG)

I am Greed. (BANG, BANG)

I am Master.

I am Economics. (BANG)

I am Need. (BANG, BANG)

I am Progress.

I am Congress. (BANG)

I am Duty. (BANG, BANG)

I am Business.

I am Malice. (BANG)

You shall Salute ME. (BANG, BANG)

I am Tariffs.

I am Sanctions (BANG, BANG)

I am Spoils. (BANG, BANG, BANG)

I am Food.

I am Technology. (BANG, BANG)

I am Oil. (BANG, BANG, BANG)

I will Rule,

I will School you. (BANG, BANG)

You will Obey. (BANG, BANG, BANG)

I invade.

You shall Serve. (BANG, BANG)

I forever Stay. (BANG, BANG, BANG)

Revolution—War
Kevin TONG McCameron

When the Revolution comes
the planners will have evolved
into unnatural, evil things that they hated
misunderstood, didn’t believe could happen…
When the Revolution comes
the co-conspieters shall be left in the wind,
twisting in the wind with their backs split open
by lashes of whips & chains they put in the hands
of their children to defend against oppressors-
split by lashes of forked tongues those they thought
they could trust…

When the Revolution comes
it will not be the planned
conspiracy that has been media
blitzed over the past thirty years,
or spoken of in hushed tones
in coffee houses & bars
ten years prior.
When the Revolution comes
it won’t be the face of change
that all have put faith in or
prepared themselves for…
It won’t have a refreshing taste
a test marketed logo, a color
composite familiar to kids,
fed to them in super sugar coated
cartoons and helium filled balloons.

When the Revolution comes
It will come with a quickness.
And be over in a flash, without the time
taken to absorb and acclimate the previous generations.
But, It shall change all to come…
When the Revolution comes,
it shall have no memory
of its history, of the fractions
of factions that broke out of molds
to make things happen.
It will not remember Mahatma Gandhi,
nor Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Rodney King
it won’t remember Rosa Parks, Grandma Moses, Thomas Jefferson,
It won’t remember Oliver Cromwell, Mother Theresa, Vladimir Lenin.
It will only remember it is Hungry, NOW!

When the Revolution comes
I shall be dead in my grave.
Decomposing against my will-
listening to the shrill wind holler
against my tombstone (if one is bought for me)
with no one coming to remember me,
or these words spoken now.

###

I shout for fear you don’t hear me.
I shout for I am insecure.
I shout for there is little time for pleasantries-
Pleasantries that hold a charming allure.
I shout for there are too many things wrong
and we won’t stop- we just keep chugging along
I shout for I am locked into a stereotype-
and if I get pushed once more I just might…
Shout – Hey! Get away!
Gimme some room. There is no room TO BREATH!
I shout because are too many of us!
There’s too many of us, There’s too many of us,
There’s too many of us, There’s too many of us-
LET’S HAVE A WAR!
HOORAY for OUR side!
LET’S HAVE A WAR!
POET’S for GENOCIDE!
We can bomb ourselves back to Bagdad.
We can eliminate the middle class.
Strip ourselves of any rights we ever had-
and you can stick that freedom of speech right up yer ass!
We can live in fear and shout no more,
scatter like ants crawling ‘cross the floor.
Find little holes that we can crawl in and hide.
We will light a candle and find some bedding; a hole to live inside.
And in the hole, in the candle-light, alone with you, I will see
a little tenderness and some of those forgotten pleasentries
and you will give me strength to live, strength to grow
-courage to share ideas, thoughts and love to show,
Strength to gather and stand up and get out,
and in renewed solidarity we can stand and Shout:
DON’T WANT NO WAR!
NO MORE!

###

Sitting in Providence, RI, watching people go bye, drinking a blue Labatt, stuck at the TF Green for the next twelve hours, listening to airlines’ service announcements every 25 seconds, just to remind me that airports are not supposed to be fun to hang around…
16 hours in TF Green, reconcile a couple of things…
Anger, hatred is not a cultural value. NO matter who you are, where you live, your ideology, race, creed, color, or personal history, Hatred is not a lesson to teach to your children, a legacy to pass on, a commonality to bond people. It is only a destroyer.
It is not enough to merely complain about the injustices in the world. To truly make a difference you must attempt to change it.

Sarenin Dreams
Kevin TONG McCameron

1: I am dreaming.
2: I am dreaming.
3: I must be dreaming.
4: Am I Dreaming?
1: This is not life as I remember it.
2: This is not my life… I remember it.
3: Is this my Life?
4: This is not my life.
1: The visions blur together.
2: The voices blur together.
3: The dreams blur together.
4: The Dream Blurs…
1: I remember days with clear blue skies,
2: fluffy clouds, green leaves, brilliant sunlit days,
3: Days I thought would never end.
4: Are these real memories or just make-believe?
1: I am dreaming.
2: I am dreaming.
3: I must be dreaming.
4: Am I Dreaming?
1: I am still dreaming.
2: I am dreaming still.
3: Dreams wash life like watercolors of perception.
4: I am Still…
1: Everything is a rush- 80MPH- work, sleep, eat, work, sleep, eat, work,
2: sleep, eat, work- 85MPH- sleep, eat, work, sleep, eat, work, sleep-
3: eat, work, sleep- Business as usual- eat, work, sleep eat, work, sleep-
4: There must be a calm in the storm of un-Godly actions.
1: Wake. Shower. Run the commute. Catch the subway. Rest…
2: Read the paper, Drink some milk, close my eyes. Rest…
3: The train jostles me, lulls me. Thank God it was not too crowded.
4: Do the Job. Chant the Mantra. Push the Button. Hope the message is heard.
1: Just another work day. Like all others- no matter it’s a holiday, nothing better. Nothing.
2: Something is different. Strange. Like a lingering odor… perhaps some one is sick.
3: Short of breath. Eyes sting. I cannot be sick.
4: Chant the Mantra. Push the handle. Respect the order. Nothing to fear.
1: It is too damn crowded on this train! Why is that guy staring at me?
2: He is a letch. Too many people! That man is passed out- No self respect!
3: This place stinks! I feel awful- must get to work…
4: work- work- work. Chant the Mantra. Teach the lesson. Do not question.
1: That guy wants to start something. Just 3 more stops. I can wait- I can wait.
2: How can someone just pass out- Sleep this long- in public. That is awful.
3: I am going to die! I must get to the office! I am going to die!
4: This is wrong. Must not think. Teach them all. This is all.
1: Three more stops. Must get off. Air is thick. Everything is dark.
2: There is a puddle. He just fell out of his seat. This is wrong.
3: Did I tell my wife I Love her? Everything is black. Must get out!
4: They will learn. They can only learn. Death is justifiable… They will Learn.
1: Everything is dark. I can not think… Why is it so dark?
2: Cannot breath. Must open a window. Must get off. Must get that man up.
3: Why did I not stay on vacation? I may never see my family again…
4: Calm. I’m in the dream. Release the Poison. Get away.
1: maybe it is only a dream. A cloudy dream. Passing dream… Dying Dream…
2: What a Nightmare! People sick everywhere. Must help somebody… Must Help…
3: Yesterday was a good day. May it last… The Last…
4: 1000 people will die. 50,000 will get sick. 5 Billion will learn.
1: If I could only awake…
2: A dreamlike experience- yet completely awake. . .
3: I may never awake. . .
4: They all shall finally be awakened… through the wake.

The Ultimate Justification
Kevin TONG McCameron

I could have done worse with my time
and energy than to lay around and conversate with you.
I could have found less reputable pass times
to get into than poetry and theatre and art.
I could have practiced to be the world’s best bowler
calculating the odds of picking up a 7-10 spit,
or a pool hall hustler calculating the win-loss ratio
so I could slyly scam a C note from some poor schmuck,
or a fly fisherman wading waist deep in the muck
spending my rainy days studying the ways of rivers & roads
for the elusive secret fishin’ hole.
I could have learned to count cards and played ‘till dawn
in back rooms, clouded in smoke, with dinosaurs learning
tricks eons old- practiced and memorized every tell on sight
to instantly recognize the 17 pantomimes men will do when Lying…
I could have strolled out broke or up 33 Grand
to hack in a cab, taking guys to the airport or downtown
to luxury hotels, convention centers, land grab casinos or
to the North Side hourly rate no tell motels, stopping by the stroll
to pick up company or a couple of rocks or rolls, or on
to the East Side where the Hott tubs, peep shows and
Gentlemen’s Clubs never close…
without Judgment all the while-
Just a clean cab, friendly service with a smile…
I could have done much worse than living my life bowing
to no one’s constraints, thumbing my nose at all the convention.
I could have chosen to live only in someone else’s shadow,
living within their parameters of success and loss,
selling out my own ideals, personality, style…
I could have been a corporate stuffed shirt only concerned
with finance and forever ignoring the human condition.
I could have represented big Tobacco, sold Cancer and made
It appetizing and appealing to kids.
Created low ball bids with hidden kick backs to Swiss
bank accounts, each Nickel another life lost as buildings
collapse because of improper supports, cars crash as struts fail
and brakes seize, children develop Asthma and Alzheimer’s from
faulty filtration systems, all aluminum cans, poorly packaged popcorn…
I have spent summers searching for the perfect sunset-
finding each one different, yet beautiful beyond compare.
I have kept friends up all night hanging out on abandoned bridges
and rooftops so we may greet the sunrise and wish the
Morning Sun to have a Blessed day…
I have spent months making amends to everyone
I have ever harmed, apologizing in advance for any transgressions
I will commit and making sure that everyone knew that I Love them…
and how much their influence means to me…
AND I have cried in Boneyards and Alleyways-
I have cried in Boneyards and Alleyways-
I have cried in Boneyards and Alleyways…
I have been brought to tears over all the natural beauty in the world,
the symmetry in a leaf, geometric patterns of a gravel bed,
the curl, froth and bubble of an ocean wave…

Whatever…
Kevin TONG McCameron

12-24-2004

Be we running, be we dancing
Be we falling, flying, or romancing
Be we cowering in the dark- Curse the light
Be we crying in passion or passionate fight
Be we tumbled apart on dancehall floor
Or locked and barred by jailhouse door,
Be we broken and bruised by fate or friend
Be we scarred and doomed to perilous end
Be we crippled, hungry, dying of thirst,
Struck dumb and blind- expecting the worst,
Be we thrown down a hole with no end in sight
And over our heads is black Stygian night
Be all odds against us and all this be true-
Still for you my heart beats and my soul Love be you.

If thy Love not Heaven sent-
Raze thine Heart and repent.

An Idea (that never happened) I was perking last year for opening-closing ceremonies for local events. Just a rough script, but perhaps 2012 Day of Change of events will find useful ideas? I think it would be a good addition, especially if the ‘Headquarters’ live-streaming 100TPC event happens. It could broadcast these sunrise/sunset ceremonies as they happen in each time-zone. Here is the little sketch I made for last year:

_100 TPC Ceremonies_ Early on, I suggested that some simple ceremonies could be suggested/scripted that could be presented around the world at sunrise and sunset to mark the day of change. It didn’t go anywhere, though some people seemed to like the idea – gave some non-intrusive unity and coherence to all the events. I still think it a good idea, but it needs to be done as a locally organized event and then may be posted as an idea for all.

- The strong suggestion would be to present our script as a local even and suggest that other cities script their own opening and closing ceremonies as events in their communities.

- Both events: Performers gather at the scheduled time and place.

Sunrise (6:55am in Sac) : open air, with good vantage for viewing the sunrise locally. Starts at 6:30am with some chanting, drumming, an invocation of the sun at its first appearance, poems invoking the day of change (with dance & music) and its success along with some short ‘poems for change’ readings. ends when sun is above horizon – drumming, chanting, close event. Might get local composers, choreographers to write special score for ceremony?

Sunset (7:00pm in Sac) corresponding event for sunset at some other location with good view of sunset horizon.

- Needs: a script (perhaps written by people from the local theatrical/film, music, dance communities?)
A place – (If on private land, permission and other arrangements will need to be made.)
Contacts and engagement of the principal performers – drummers, singers, readers, etc. (I think there is a good taicho drum ensemble locally – might be a good act.)
Someone to film/record the events. Perhaps edit it into a short ‘day of change’ video for distribution to the media and others, etc.

- Maybe a group to provide some refreshments for a little socializing afterwords?
- If videos are created from these ceremonies in many cities, then perhaps some filmmaker can combine them into a longer documentary/video on the whole change day.

There has to be more poets who would like to see change. I myself have two areas I would like to see change in: The treatment of children, and the treatment of animals, especially domestic animals, but all animals that we use for food, or torture (same difference to me).

Somehow, we have to figure out how to eat without hurting those animals whose burden in life is simply to exist for our stomachs. And why are there so many people who do not know how to alleviate the pain inside them, without hurting innocent animals or children to alleviate it…?

These things I cannot fathom….but we must put our minds and heart together, and figure it out together. I know it’s hard to give up eating meat, but think about this: we detest cannibals, do we not? Animals are alive before we eat them…

Read my Blog, too! http://www.socalnovelist.blogspot.com

SEPTEMBER 24,2011 23 POETS STEPPED TO THE MIC AND SPOKE ON SOCIAL ISSUES AT THIS EVENT

Will be you be part of this movement via Tate Street Coffee House in September 29, 2012?

Sign up early via this page or at meetup.com/triadpoetry
…
***An Open Mic Event

7-10 PM

Free to Public

***Segments of program will photographed and videod

***Updated March 28, 2012

Faço convite a todos os poetas da Amazônia a estarmos em Belém, de mãos dadas, dia 29 de setembro de 2012, local ainda a ser reservado ao grande evento, e juntos [através da poesia] gritarmos contra todas formas de injustiças sociais e pela conservação do planeta.

Poetas amazônicos, univo-nos!

By Benny C Franklin

Las torres blancas
protegen a su Reina,
estando arrinconada
el rey negro acecha.

Un pequeño peón
le sostiene por la derecha
y el Caballo Blanco
al rey negro enfrenta.

Una Torre Blanca
no hay forma que se mueva,
pues el rey negro
le cierra la puerta.

La Reina hostigada
no se enfrenta
por miedo a salir dañada
en esa guerra.

Ha vivido chantajeada
en su fortaleza.
Y, ahora, está sitiada
entre invisibles rejas.

¡Mas la Torre sentada
le escribe poemas,
le canta en la madrugada,
a DIOS reza!

Santander, España, Incluido en 2 poemarios d ANDREA TUTOR

“Vuelo de Palomas”
ANDREA TUTOR

¡Cascada invertida,
estampida de temblor.
He visto alas batidas,
cuando has volado hoy!

Palomas y gaviotas
vuelan sobre Santander
y, en mi alma, brota
tu imagen, cual carrusel.

En días grises,
alternando con relucientes,
vuelan tus aves
sobre tus gentes.

¿Palomas o gaviotas?
¡Qué más da,
si en el aire retozan,
para el alma alegrar!

Me gustan más las palomas,
en su vuelo magistral,
engalanando las auroras
y viendo al Sol posar.

Santander, España, Verano de 2003.
Incluido en 2 poemarios.

” La Casa de los Vetti”

Pompeya paró su reloj
hace veinte siglos;
siglos que son años
para un recién nacido.

Apolo, el Arquero,
cuida de su Venus,
cual si se tratase de un niño,
para que pasen los años,
que parecen siglos.

Dios en calidad de Arquero
contempla a Príapo envanecido,
el que coloca su falo sobre un platillo,
mientras extiende la mano,
con el crédito vencido.

Se enorgullece de su pene,
{que deshizo
{en las entrañas de Pompeya,
frías, como granizo.}

Es que el terremoto
a ella ha vencido;
mas el Vesubio la envolvió
antes de haber sucumbido.

La Casa de los Vetti,
famosa por sus frisos,
se ensoberbece de sus puertas,
se envuelve en mitos
[y, así, no ver
que ha perecido.]

En su segunda muerte,
Pompeya se vende al vandalismo
por unos cuantos centavos mal
[habidos,
provenientes de turistas
en calzones cortos,
desvestidos.]

¡Respeten a Pompeya, mal nacidos,
ella es una Reina entre mis hijos!