uschi-the-listener

[uschi-the-listener]

I show her

The picture in the magazine

A little girl

Dressed in clothes

Exactly matching her mom's

Even the little bow

On their hats

I love her so much

I want this for us

She snatches the magazine

from my little hand

She tosses it into the trash

Then says something

I don't know those words

But I get the gist

Ashamed

Maybe blushing

I creep away

Out of the room

Smaller with every step

My first heartbreak

.

[uschi-the-listener]

I didn't

Not know

About the sparkling pollutants

The noise

Scaring pets

Triggering vets

Promoting fleeing

Hiding in fear

traumatic memory

Always before

Maybe it was

Worth it

A celebration

Of something worthy

But was it ever

That

Now that we can see

The man behind the curtain

The evil

The bumbling

The purely dishonest

The bumptious bragging

A couple hundred years and change

And no change

The old world has seen

We are finally

Finally

Uncovering the scurrilous

Hidden indecency

It was always there

In a shabby costume

Uncle Sam

Who turns out to have

A hidden side

An ugly side

Sam

We know now

Just stop

.

[uschi-the-listener]

It’s another Adam and Eve myth

another justification

for the mistreatment of women

If you ever loved a woman

if you ever were a woman

grit your teeth

and read the story.

The story of misogyny

brought to life

a tale to teach children

what men think

women are for

and what they deserve.

She was the first human woman

of the Greeks

created to punish all men

for Prometheus’s theft of fire.

She was equipped with lies,

deceit, seduction

and was given a jar

full of all the evils of the world:

sickness, pain, fear, and all else

that we dread

and told not to open it.

Curiously, Hope was in the jar

which has somehow morphed into a box

for this benighted age.

And when Pandora/Eve

disobeyed

after having been set up

just to be knocked down

as women are

knocked down

set up

hated for their very existence

When she disobeyed

and let all the evils into the world

Hope remained

trapped in the jar.

The world remains hopeless.

Hopeless.

As long as Pandora

Eve

Womankind

are vilified

set up

knocked down

laden with

the narrow expectations

of a certain ancient

kind of Man

Man Kind

the world remains

Hopeless

Hate can be overcome

and Hope can be released

but we have to try.

We have to want to.

Hope.

.

[uschi-the-listener]

I wish I could do more

Than just

This

Something useful

But I am plagued by a body

That says No

That is trying to quit

That threatens

A hell of pain

If I try

We used to be friends

Now, at this late date

I am a hostage

.

[uschi-the-listener]

Red, Black, and Blue

our new colors

red black and blue

there is no cheering

colors of disunion

a war of no civility

former pride

replaced with

so much shame

the symbolism

is all fucked up now

no one is writing

hymns to the state

the glaring red rockets

are shot into the faces

of We

the People

red for the innocent blood

countless murders

deepest betrayal

abandonment

intertwined with black

black for lives that matter

but go disregarded

except with evil intent

black for the darkness

of this dark age

black for the silence

of the dead decayed souls

of those who will not hear

those who will not see

who quibble and cavil

find excuses for

the direst cruelties

black and blue

beaten and bruised

ultimately

lives stolen away

blue

for the uniforms

of brownshirts

murderers

psychopaths

who claim that

their lives

matter the most

delighting in

violating sacred oaths

serving-and-protecting

themselves only

this flag

no longer

stands for

me and mine

.

[uschi-the-listener]

We lie

Side by side

On our backs

2 old ladies

I pet her soft belly

She purrs

Stretches her toes

I stretch

Can't purr

But I would

2 old ladies

Battered

Taken against our will

Pushed here and there

Life rarely

Warns anybody

Or warns us

All the time

To our stupid senses

We don't get it

We persevere anyway

She purrs

I pet her belly

We stretch out

On the big bed

With our little selves

This is fine

.

[uschi-the-listener]

I don't think in haiku

Any more

Lines of poetry

Are not wafted

Into my head

Ahead of Mab

And her spider-chariot

Art of any kind

No longer

Strives in me

To join the world

I am emptied out

My old life

Has said

Enough already

I was not prepared

I want it back

There is

A hollow echo

And pain

.

[uschi-the-listener]

No

***

I love that you trust me

enough to say No

when you abruptly

refuse consent

even when you see

how badly I want

something from you

There is of course

pain involved

but then I think of

all the times

all the others

who ignored your

No

and took what they wanted

treated you like a thing

baggage to be dragged along

and I will never

never never

treat you that way

because your trust

is more valuable

than my desire

but one can dream

.

[uschi-the-listener]

that disconsolate face

the whole-body disgruntlement

the splashback from

many many cruelties

they laugh

they say

he earned this

and he did

he is unloved

unlovable

we who are empathic

compassionate

do not simply

turn off

we feel for him

despite

the sting in his tail

the fangs in his mouth

the disease he spreads

his lack of basic

decency

we do not turn off

we don't do that

after his massive evil

and now

aging

demented

narcissistic as ever

supremely broken

too late now

to take it all back

my wish

let him wander room to room

sunny rooms

with his favorite things

let him tweet

to an echo chamber

let him play pretend

give him mirrors

let it go nowhere

let him go nowhere

let him have no effect

ever again

on anyone

if he must spread

toxicity

let him poison

his own air

his own water

swaddle him in

solitude

let him not

see or touch or interact

with another of his species

ever again

let him be

done

.

[uschi-the-listener]

O to have a school desk

To crouch under

Cover my head with my arms

My fear of grown-ups

Justified

A lifelong fear

Validated

.

[uschi-the-listener]

Trust

that game

that serious game

where you close your eyes

and raise your arms

and fall back

and someone

by prearrangement

catches you

well that is my life

and I have never

[not once]

been caught

very tired of hitting the floor

the pavement

going over that cliff

oh yeah it is

as bad as it sounds

I learned a special

crazy dance

I learned to fly

because the landing

always hurts

.

[uschi-the-listener]

To the sweet good dads

Who love freely

Are proud and gentle

Funny and smart

To the Dads who try to be those things

Happy Day

Look around you

Find the kids that need you

As mothers know

And dads forget sometimes

All children are yours

Lift them up

Save them if you have to

You may well be

The cavalry

For some kid near you

Who thinks they are bad

That Dads are scary and cruel

That there is no cavalry

Or that the cavalry rides

With the black hats

All children

Deserve the good Dads

Show them

.

[uschi-the-listener]

Definition

True love.

I want to see you,

be with you

when you are

at your very worst.

Anxious

flatulent

grumpy

nasty tempered

broken out skin

tangled hair

rude

smelly.

Your very worst.

Bring it on.

I’ve seen your best behavior.

Everyone has seen your

Best Behavior.

Everyone.

Here’s true love:

I don’t take any crap

from you

don’t give you any either.

But I see you

and even if you are to blame

I don’t blame you

because what good is that.

You need me when

you are being a shit.

I sit with you

Help you sit with

your own damn self.

We are

Together.

We can stand each other

Even on our worst days.

I want all of you,

not just the pretty parts

on display

for the masses.

Open the dusty vaults

take out your ugly

broken junk.

The stuff you can’t

seem

to get rid of.

Let me love you

Anyway.

That,

my darling,

is love.

True love.

[uschi-the-listener]

When I was a kid, and my father or mother had done something unusually brutal to me and I fled, crying, to my room, my siblings were not allowed to acknowledge it and were certainly not allowed to comfort me in any way.

But my bedroom was a little attic above the piano room. My sister, a self-taught and gifted pianist, knew that the first movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata was a favorite of mine. So she would go to the piano and, on the pretext of "practicing," would play it loudly.

I knew and she knew what a comfort that was. We are no longer in touch as my father still has control of her and I have broken free. But I still love the Moonlight Sonata. Here's a beautifully tuned and voiced piano playing it in full.

[uschi-the-listener]

Definition

True love.

I want to see you,

be with you

when you are

at your very worst.

Anxious

flatulent

grumpy

nasty tempered

broken out skin

tangled hair

rude

smelly.

Your very worst.

Bring it on.

I’ve seen your best behavior.

Everyone has seen your

Best Behavior.

Everyone.

Here’s true love:

I don’t take any crap

from you

don’t give you any either.

But I see you

and even if you are to blame

I don’t blame you

because what good is that.

You need me when

you are being a shit.

I sit with you

Help you sit with

your own damn self.

We are

Together.

We can stand each other

Even on our worst days.

I want all of you,

not just the pretty parts

on display

for the masses.

Open the dusty vaults

take out your ugly

broken junk.

The stuff you can’t

seem

to get rid of.

Let me love you

Anyway.

That,

my darling,

is love.

True love.

[uschi-the-listener]

Whoever picked “Fortunate Son” to play over the loudspeakers at the Army’s military parade yesterday is either: a platinum-level sarcasm wizard or the poster child for Dunning Kruger effect.

That song is literally a middle finger to the exact kind of event it was playing at.

Honestly, if this was on purpose, I salute you. If it wasn’t, I still salute you—but with a confused squint and a slow clap.

Fortunate Son Lyrics

Some folks are born made to wave the flag

Hoo, they're red, white and blue

And when the band plays "Hail to the chief"

Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord

It ain't me, it ain't me

I ain't no senator's son, son

It ain't me, it ain't me

I ain't no furtunate one, no

Some folks are born silver spoon in hand

Lord, don't they help themselves, Lord?

But when the taxman come to the door

Lord, the house lookin' like a rummage sale, yeah

It ain't me, it ain't me

I ain't no millionaire's son, no, no

It ain't me, it ain't me

I ain't no fortunate one, no

Yeah-yeah, some folks inherit star-spangled eyes

Hoo, they send you down to war, Lord

And when you ask 'em, "How much should we give?"

Hoo, they only answer, "More, more, more, more"

It ain't me, it ain't me

I ain't no military son, son, Lord

It ain't me, it ain't me

I ain't no fortunate one, one

It ain't me, it ain't me

I ain't no fortunate one, no, no, no

It ain't me, it ain't me

I ain't no fortunate son, no, no, no

It ain't me, it ain't me...

[uschi-the-listener]

I wrote a poem about Father's Day. I'm going to put a lot of space above it so anyone likely to be triggered by it can skip it. There is nothing graphic in it, but it sets a mood and could possibly be problematic for people still suffering with PTSD symptoms. So scroll down pretty far if you still want to read it.

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Father's Day

I don't know what a father

is supposed to be like.

There was one

or they called him that

and I was supposed to say, "Daddy"

there was no daddy there

I am afraid to go into cellars and attics

do not sneak up on me because

I will hurt you

I won't mean it but I will.

Night is a terror

and locked doors

and anyone touching me

when I can't see them

see both hands

I see a child pushed on a swing

by a Daddy

and it frightens me

thinking about

what she may have to endure

later

out of the public safety zone

I live with shame

that does not belong to me

I fear that I am not real

I remember being a child

like remembering

days and nights

as a hostage

not allowed to count the days

unable to count that high

anyway

I looked out the window

when I was 8

I remember seeing teenagers

walking together

tall and slender

laughing

pretty

and I thought

"I'll never know what that feels like."

You see I thought I would never

live to that age

never survive being 8

and now I am old

and expected to wish

that creature happy

not sure what to call

that thing

that lives yet

Not "Daddy."

.