Thursday, March 10, 2011

Two Poems of Revolution and Change

You Can’t See Me

I am the Count of the Last request
the tiny dark man of utter wind
blown and beaten down a carousel of faded flowers
thrown after a departing rainbow

white to the eyes of all unbelievers
who did not see me climb the golden tower
who do not believe there is one
and who will remain forever white for their crimes

I walk among them daily too small and dark to behold

I come in a flame
the slow burn of understanding
that will strip them naked
with no dreams remaining but their savage teeth
to devour one another with
as they see fit

they are not worth shit...
in their present condition

they plot and plot the overthrow
of what that is
they do not know

I am the casual shadow behind the sun
resting in the corners of buildings
i am shed by the crowded mind
one tuneful note of iridescent black
peering through the louvers of all time....

coiled in the vale of noplace

they shall not go free again
on that you may depend

I am the Count of Little Footsteps
the scratching of the leaves in the streets behind them
that tireless warrior....

that cold chill at the nape of the neck

death to all tyrants
death to all landlords and banks
to all things that turn the warm heart cold
and terrorize the soul....

Patrick Willis narrates:

STRIVE (for M.L.K.)

For everyone
who has ever stood and said
at any time

that Justice will triumph
that Truth shall prevail
that a fair shake
an even break
is the birthright of every living thing

and got shot down
and burned at the stake
for revealing to the darkness
that the dawn would soon break

I say

for everyone
spontaneously ignited
by that overwhelming
love from within

and who shined it forth
when the chips were down
and remained strong
while the weapons tore their flesh

I say

for everyone who has reached out to breathe
like some paranoid crustacean
crawling fearful from the sea

for everyone
who has seen the alleys
the knives
the clubs
the dreadful comprehension
of brutal intent

the horrible unrecognizing eye
of brotherhood blinded
and knew
that Love could not die

I say strive...

Patrick Willis narrates:
(For M.L.K.)


Karyn Weese said...

My goodness, Les Visible. The recent poems are magnificent. It is great that you are posting at this blog again. Please keep going with all of these incredible new additions to your creative work. Thank you, Karyn

Anonymous said...


How can you still have energy left when you give so much power away !
Your Spirit ,has No Limit

henry beck said...

After reading your poems this sentence popped into my mind: 'Fight against the dying of the light'(accurate quote ?)
Don't know why it popped into my mind, don't recall who (Milton, Blake ?) but I feel sure that's what we should be doing.

henry beck
ps not much of a crowd on this blog; nevertheless, I hope to see more since you've been breathing new life in it.

mauiguy said...


And loving every minute of it

WV:nursiero. Right where we're at. said...

The hardest changes are those we know we must make on the inside, changes that would immediately be reflected in how we behave and how we treat others.

Thank you Les.


WV: tashe
I wish I had a tashe about the real meaning of life.

Visible said...


That was Dylan Thomas.

AliceBlue said...

I like your poems a lot. Especially the second one, that one really moved me.
The dream is not over.
Peace and love.
Mousers daughter.

Anonymous said...

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd .


Visible said...

Hi Mouser's daughter!


Frog said...

Children of the future age,
Reading this indignant page,
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime.

Zoner said...

Strive indeed.

Thank you, LV.


marcus parker said...

Les, Did the world really need another poem about the 'bravery' of MLK? I have a suggestion for a future poem (I know, I'm a helpful sort)

How about a tome to the bravery of the last white people in Southern Africa.... hurry they're being genocided and or driven out by the day...

Visible said...

Marcus (if that's your name). That poem was written a long time ago and White people are not generic to S.A.

I let your comment through so that others could see it. There won't be any more.

marcus parker said...

Les: Yes- this is my real first and last name. I know you said you won't post any more of my comments, just wanted to let you know personally that you can't stop me from liking your stuff...

Visible said...


The poem about MLK is 30 years old.

Maybe I was just a little put off by what seemed to me to be 'intentional' baiting. I didn't get a point, or how I factor into it. You can take the poem that precedes these (More Than Blue Eyes) and apply that to Affricaners (grin).

Be well.

marcus parker said...

Hi Les: My sarcasm about "being a helpful sort" was to cover for the whole amount of phony entitlement on my part that I would even suggest that you write a specific poem. I mean why don't I just write my own damn poem?
Oh, but I don't have a blog that gets millions of hits... and you do...

Thank you for your understanding

Visible said...

Understood. I don't just sit down and write poems however. If they don't come flowing out on there own, they don't even happen.

Stranger in a Strange Land said...

Yes....Keep the Faith after you have throw away all faith.

Don't throw away me though, allow Me to take me in It's arms and love me as a child. Perhaps then i will understand the meaning of I.

Let it know Who the real One behind the masks.

Perhaps me will one day grow into a self-reliant, responsible human being and be proud of being me while at the same time just being Me as is always the way in the realm of Me.

i can only hope, while I have no need for hope, just love and kindness from i to I.

Change will come whether we will it or not, just the nature order of both i and I.

Take care,

Stranger in a Strange Land said...

After reading my last entry, I see that it may be wise to use spell check..

Hope you got the meaning..


Anonymous said...

off topic (what else) but I loved Heinlens stranger in a strange land. the best impression, apart from the guilt free orgies (these days my views toned down by a suspicion of the "great unravelling" intent of pop art liberalism possibly done by the tribe).. was the zoo monkey scene
whereby Michael for the first time burst out in laughter (when the monkeys were squabbling and fighting)
why did he laugh?
because it hurts.
humanity, that's all
if only we would make do with less, to gain more, there would be time (another Heinlen quote)... "time enough for love." unfortunately geniasses such as he (and Les I think) are not born on easy street. if that's the case, then let the not so good times roll.

dunno nofin'

Anonymous said...

oh! and time enough for poetry (hehe and seriously)


Stranger in a Strange Land said...

Hello Les:

You must be one of these guys: