an ax grinder's confession

there's not a damn thing new
about blunt force criticism

with everything coming down around us
forging & slashing steel
becomes a cottage industry

of course you know
a great leap forward
has been tried before

if the brush is wide enough
even the windows
can be covered in one stroke

what looks like a new day
might just be dusk

--- e b bortz

earth note 258

a carpet of thorns
from the rose bushes
creeping then weaving
a sharp wild fabric
over the terrace & concrete steps
     every one of them
     covered

as i cut it back
there comes a gnawing recognition
that the rose will always flourish
     it has no equal
and in this
     there is comfort

--- e b bortz

so

you said you were looking
for the next big idea
     well
maybe there aren't any right now
just a bunch of small ones that
could add up to something
someday

here's a small one: take down all the borders
abolish them all right now
we'll all live in that one big neighborhood
     planet earth
     every drone strike & cluster bomb
     will be a strike against us all

restore the rio grande to its original intent
     that
     of being the rio grande

stop poisoning life
all life
from the forests to the cities & oceans & lakes & rivers
& the air you share
     isn't for sale

redistribute all the wealth immediately
abolish all secrets right now
free all whistleblowers & resisters of conscience
shutdown kangaroo courts
     let the kangaroos free

--- e b bortz

(published in opednews.com, Aug 26, 2013)

i might have just turned eighteen

when i first read my brother's copy of
a coney island of the mind by lawrence ferlinghetti

that summer
     restlessness became a verb

it was what i guess you could call my
coming of age time...my brother's east cleveland pad
the place where i became fully acclimated
to sex...my "spilled sperm seed" (ferlinghetti)
taking me as far as skinny-dipping-make-out
in lake erie at mentor headlands

even if it's all tame by today's standards
     i'm still somewhat mystified by it all

guess you could say i was pulled between
being radical
and being love torn/worn
     so i chose both

--- e b bortz

ap nam (shower)

a tin pot and water reservoir
in the bathroom
which i became enamored with
living in thailand
made a cool splash as you dumped it on your head
     streaming down
     your body waking up
          to celebrate

--- e b bortz

(published in earth notes and other poems, Least Bittern Books, 2015)

earth note 257

i'm ready to make the leap
to the withering away of the state

right now rules are made & broken
by an unelected homo sapien filter

who consulted the others?
what manifesto-bible gives a single untold story?

dreams are wet in the rainforest
from an out-of-body experience

pelicans fish past sunset
long after the nets go home

if it rains all day
the earth will breathe

from a desert
comes solitary decisions

let there be times
when the moon touches water

--- e b bortz

(published in shadowproof.com, Oct 30, 2013)

earth note 256

a pair of dog & cat coffee mugs
at the flea market
the $1 tag standing out
like a badge of courage
for the many times these cups
have endured
the curiosity of hands
always stroking for a bargain
     & a low ball
& a story behind the story
     who's table did they sit at
how many times
have they put out
from the top of these card tables
     buried behind outgrown
     kid's clothes
     & worn down socket sets

we gladly trade away a backpack
     yanking the $1 tags
          forever

--- e b bortz

the conscientious objector in us all

no one springs from the womb
with a gun in their hand

killing requires indoctrination

as the human heart
takes off on its own
brought into a living
breathing
interdependency
of species known & unknown
     rivers rushing
     every conceivable geography rising
responding to the unpredictable
     a planet ethos lives
     though still a mystery to most nation-states

but there's the greed
& the convenience of the status quo
& the social conditioning
of taking
and then holding on to
at all costs
a double-speak that every bureaucracy
understands
and defends to the death
your death

but who can argue
that this is all
preordained?

no one springs from the womb
with a gun in their hand

--- e b bortz

(published in opednews.com, Aug 11, 2013)

return of the august torch

as in the weather
& the rumbling planks
from the bridges of madison county

the sun has that constant haze
never seeming to set
draping above tree tops
motionless against the corn rows

desperate as emotions
as when love goes searching
coming up with another
forever stained half-full coffee cup

tractors grunt like draft horses
decades before them
and for every silo full
     an empty heart plowed under

--- e b bortz

earth note 255

it's the kind of morning
that puts your traveling shoes
on for you

free of all hitherto conventions
when your thumb led you down
a whole lot of dead ends

wasn't any foot dragging
that you'd admit to
a young foot never looks back

everybody knows the highway's slipping off the mountain
toll gates around every bend
the new mad ones text on cruise control

the sage brush still leaves blood in its path
a cluster of cottonwoods
still a good place to hide

move on
if you can't put much credence
in what can't be touched

--- e b bortz
 

earth note 254

plankton
feeding ocean fish
     overwhelmed
by homo sapiens plastic
broken & shredded
just to size
to fool plankton eaters
man-made compounds
exotic chemical floats
just below the surface
gathering their own 'schools'
swarming every sea
embedding living tissue
     hungry consumers
     lining up
          keep the food chain
          unbroken

--- e b bortz

if there's any possibility

that the nsa is reading
my poetry blog
i guess it behooves me
to cloak every word
in a new & obscure language
& super subtlety
that most mfa graduates
     would throw out as gospel
poetry critics expound on
     highfalutin literary editors solicit
snoopers erotically pour over
     in visors & dark glasses
congress codes away in doublespeak
     every noun & action sandwiched
between double-layered metaphors
     (wtf are they?)
imploding like a thousand points of light
     traversing the planet
          babel-ing for notoriety
     forgetting all the rough & tumble
          heathen poets
          our heads still up
          ranting to the sky

--- e b bortz

(published in opednews.com, Aug 3, 2013)
(published in firedoglake.com, Sept 30, 2013)

earth note 253

another early morning of words
     reaches the avenue pavement
     still cool
          waiting for a metaphor

in the interim
maybe it's better
to dig a few more holes
for the non-discounted hopefully red
     aster alma poetscheke (2004)

--- e b bortz

earth note 252

youghiogheny river valley
ohiopyle to confluence
feels like a rainforest
each day near the end of july
     wet and warm
sporadic rain burst intervals
suddenly on and off
like the monsoons of thailand
the forest canopy dripping
     continuously
down to the bicycle trail
whitewater rapids spitting up
circles of fog
drifting then sticking
to the riverbank

a roll of thunder at dusk
     echoes
like hollow distant prayer wheels
chasing a family of deer
up through the mountain laurel
up the embankment
to the arms
of mother oak     maple     poplar

by midnight
the rain finishes tapping
at our mountain tent
     our breath
          now the mist

--- e b bortz

(published in earth notes and other poems, Least Bittern Books, 2015)  

recovering notes from the deep, part 5

there were a hundred reasons
to go live in northern minnesota in 1976
one of which was
it was long past time to evacuate pittsburgh
     the acid of the air truly damaging
young & not ready to be old       lungs
& walls that held us in     a good bit of it     our own doing
     you just had to leave to see it

my young family never believed in panaceas
though what we found in the great north woods
made the winter of hard knocks
a real wakeup
like the cold at the end of the night
     of 38 below
before restarting the wood furnace
or that first blast of cold air
coming out of the sauna

the mornings came especially early
for an electrician at a taconite plant
     unless you were shifting
     to nights or afternoons
     or you got a call to come in
          right now
     for an emergency
and then the foreman
rather calmly saying
     here are the new schematics
     we need to get this online
          right now
          and you did

when the creeks and lakes finally thawed
& the canada geese touched down near the pole barn
fluttering through the swamp grass
     the beginnings of green for a worked-out hay field
     created an aura
          like being freed
          or saved
          just in time

there should be no personal claims
within the commons
     the state forests
     near the continental divide
     & a thousand lakes just in the county
keeping the lakes open
& the wolves & all the species protected
brought out the worst of the human ones
     towing their snowmobiles & all-terrain-vehicles
     up from the cities
     and yeah     they had their bought-and-paid-for allies
     in the state legislature
though i have to admit
we made a few backcountry
cross-country ski trails
     that will always be secret
     lost between poplar and tamarack ridges
          beyond the reach of the engines
          the greasy hands called progress
               into the quiet
                    deep
                    forever living

--- e b bortz

trayvon lives

between the heartbeats
we touch
     that touch us
from hallowed spaces
     each new sunrise
          clear
          brave
          unbroken

--- e b bortz

(published in opednews.com, July 18, 2013)
(published in earth notes and other poems, Least Bittern Books, 2015)

science & the romantics

there were more than a few times
in high school
when we parked and made out
in riverview park

totally detached from the observatory
at the very top of the hill
like nothing in it
superseded the clarity
of adolescent instincts

and of course you never thought
that the world you were opening
with your body
was anything but
a moist summer night

--- e b bortz

(published in opednews.com, June 15, 2014)
(published in earth notes and other poems, Least Bittern Books, 2015)

earth note 251

often
the big picture
gets in the way
of seeing and feeling
the small things
like differentiating the wild flowers
from aggressive weeds

so what seemed
like an arrowhead
washed from the clay
and brought out from burial
by torrential rains
appeared as just another
blend of rock

certain to be overlooked
by urban folk tales
     in fact
most everything about
the lives of the original inhabitants
had been maligned
desecrated
expunged
on the way to conquest

yet it is in this realm
     in this small historic component
a drum will lead and be heard
     and great truths will surface

--- e b bortz

untitled blues

sometimes i imagine
a flooded burning planet
poisonous machinery and processes
choking
washed out greasy streets
dying
with the scientific evidence
still alarming in the queue
describing how it bled out
and dried up
     mostly without a whimper

and the established advocates
still shuffling       waving in their
pale earth-toned power suits
and self-congratulatory citations
riding a storm of toxic atmosphere
a whirlwind without direction
clinging to a raft made of petitions
and resolutions that passed
like some kind of life preserver
     which they weren't

and even after all the lobbying
of media brokers
congress members and presidents
corporate whores and nonprofit do-gooders
nothing moved decisively enough
to make a fundamental paradigm shift
     a new paradigm also a clique now

there's no intention here
to color the future
as bleak as it actually
     might be
     we all find our own coping mechanisms
with the numbness that surrounds us
needing context
from the endless assault
on all that's considered
alive and vibrant
the best
     of being human

before the great reckoning
can the witnesses and survivors
     expect a coming together?
echoing bells in every town square
riverfront and harbor
everyone speaking from singing bowls
sustained messages
from the inside depths
of a thousand frayed      naked forests
bending to their limits
just before their limbs shatter?

and from the ambivalent university
of apologetics
there might only be another
study-in-the-making
like an oily structure that breeds
fear      accommodation      conformity
     another betrayal of an entire generation
and for all the talk of responsibility
the decision-making structures are precise
meshing each gear
in sterility
insulated beyond
the slipping troubled masses
out of range
     of the mirrors and truth tellers
          purgatory lock-up incorporated

--- e b bortz

earth note 250

thunderstorms rocked the ridge
setting off some car alarms
as if disputing
the main hypothesis
of the president's speech
yesterday
on energy
     coddling up
     with the nukes
     and frackers
     and lyin' 'clean coal' hucksters

the skies opened a plethora
of white lightning
the new panorama took over
from tired models
of disease & greed
drowning out the droning
of the moneychangers
     turkeys regrouping in the brush
     as a fox crept up
     on the edge of the ridge
     rain spilling rivers
     toward the rivers
flushing out illusions of every brimstone gospel

--- e b bortz

(published in earth notes and other poems, Least Bittern Books, 2015)

quick review of gasland 2 from a former green party congressional candidate

stay in the democratic/republican frack pond
as little or as long as you want
when you finally come out and shower
you'll still smell like shit
your conscience having been surgically removed
your mind
     mush

--- e b bortz

(published in opednews.com, June 24, 2013)

perfect summer day depression blues

the yachts and speedboats are piling up
tax write-offs at the marina
a kayak glides past free
     river cooperates
down by the casino
a self-help gambler's anonymous shingle
flutters in the breeze
     the phone number may be out-of-order
     might not pick you up
     unless you own bootstraps
     & a private economy to ride out
     the big waves
or
you can go barefoot
learn to tread water
like the rest of us

the geese know
how to work the system
even in a crowd & bicycles
     like the sky
          finds perfect blue

--- e b bortz

(published in opednews.com, July 31, 2013)
(published in earth notes and other poems, Least Bittern Books, 2015)

cafe

1991

an escape as easy as
dark turkish coffee
grounds on my tongue
reminding me of a fleeting kiss
a jolt to the roof of my mouth
even on a saturday
yafa     yafo
palestine     israel
a taste
still fresh
as the brown voiced men
at the table in the corner
the proprietor inviting me
to bring my bicycle in
listen to the streets
     of the displaced

--- e b bortz

(published in earth notes and other poems, Least Bittern Books, 2015)

earth note 249

after a good rain
the loam opens
breathes new life
into its body

if there's a way
to capture this process
save it
make a path from the withering

the maples have turned
their hands over
dripping
tasting renewal

--- e b bortz

earth note 248

razor wire
at the penitentiary
     a hedgerow facsimile
     meets pain
rehabilitation a propaganda phrase
     so
the ohio river keeps its own compass
looks away like a distant green buffer
drowning the loneliness
this moment exhumes

inside
voices are muffled
as homeland insecurity suv
circles the parking lot
     once again

coal barges
overflowing
darkness is their still life
     a stillborn
     yet to come

--- e b bortz

earth note 247

there are no narratives to describe
what's really happening on a trail
inside a forest
taken for granted
blooming in spite
of an assault
by a sprawl
paying attention
to royalties
or not paying attention
at all

bones will remain
affirming that life
once existed
a canopy will fight on
against the elements
choked roots
poisoned water tables
tangled in a grid
of pipes
tanks
compressors
frack ponds
are not for swimming

trading our immunity and innocence
for thirty pieces of silver

--- e b bortz

alternatives

darkness will be lifted
when a new form
takes up the space
     lets in the light
     it can begin right now

are there windows?

do you revere your own hands?

will each person speak?

will each person share?

do we know how to break the ego
     abandon every cult
     every fame?

can we translate the natural around us
and build a living model?

how do we begin?

it can begin right now

--- e b bortz

earth note 246

if i wake early enough
there's always that chance
of going back
(the mind has such power)
to another time
maybe that of the drifter
or the baseball coach
or just the searcher
     of wonder

memory is my window rock

--- e b bortz

(published in earth notes and other poems, Least Bittern Books, 2015)

earth note 245

a promised rain
won't wet anyone's appetite anymore
     parched that we all are
promises turn expectations round & round
making disappointment
just another business cycle

of course that's only my take on it

about the time the suits
suit up for another gala graduation
     celebratory speeches from the mouth
     of another three-mouth-monte
there'll be at least
a thousand more college students
in this town
kicked off the road
of so-called urban renaissance
leaving only
the borderlines of yet
another desolation highway
& the last of the survivors saying
     god and growth
     might just be dead

--- e b bortz

earth note 244

digging in
turning over some shovels
of top soil
upset the worms
     i swear i heard expletives
     as they scattered
          did my best to coax them
          into the new bed of phlox
but it got me thinking
     if the worms could vote
     now there's some power
there'd be a hell of lot less
asphalt & concrete
     definitely no
     soldier-worm-cannon-fodder
     keep your ear to the ground
     when nature
     takes its rights
     i'll trade my shovel for a jackhammer
     tear up those parking lots
          call it paradise

--- e b bortz

earth note 243

when i lived near the equator
there was always that cleansing
that poured out of your body
     got passed along
     between bodies
there was no such thing as
     don't sweat it
the magic oils that
consumer glutting advertises
were all in the air
in the steam of the rainforests
in the poverty streets
of loose fitting saris and flip-flops
in the orange of the monks
the heat could be counted on
     to blanket you
          in nightfall
          in silence

an invitation to pass through
and immerse
was never needed
simply absorb what's around you
in the rugged hills
detached from the cities
     where water buffalo work
     the valleys of ten-thousand-year soil
     on a border with dusk
     rubber trees     coconut     rambutan
          floods and fires
          to labor
          to survive

on the other side of the world
the bankers plan
a decimation of the teak
a dam binding a wild river
a market manipulation
that buys collateral

     but not
          time

--- e b bortz

(published in earth notes and other poems, Least Bittern Books, 2015)

earth note 242

what constitutes a good day
(70s and low humidity)

is there such a thing as being aware
(knowing what's real can get you down)

where does every road and trail lead
(that's infinite...there are no maps)

when will the river find its current
(where there's movement...there's hope)

who will take the first plunge
(it was already taken long ago)

what makes a good day?

--- e b bortz

earth note 241

the new pear
and apple trees
in the backyard
are going to need
a lot of care
preemptive action
decoys
halloween year 'round
scarecrows
louder wind chimes
coyote piss
a siberian husky could help
if there's any chance of surviving
the deer browsing

wild turkeys roam
the avenues & woods
of nor'side pittsburgheese
     seem to be 100% compatible
     with the deer
so can't count on them as a deterrent
guess i feel i need to ask them all
     periodically
jeet? (did you eat?)

--- e b bortz

earth note 240

pittsburgh, north side

the new condos
down on federal street
don't have any institutional
memory of the days
of the apache lounge
or the slick-hair-guys
who loafed
on the steps
next to the garden theatre
     who might still be sitting there
if it weren't for the demise
of those secret phony handshakes
out of the masonic lodge
     gone forever

and just a couple more doors down
there was the window cleaning company
that i managed to work at
just out of high school
and had to learn how to get past
my fear of height
     which i did
in time
     a few years later
     carrying my electrician tools
out on the crane runways of neville island

it isn't likely
the new upward mobile urbanites
will ever hear a rowdy basketball game again
     down in west park
since the downtown bureaucrats
took all the hoops down
     and then left town
     like thieves
          but you can judge for yourself

but don't get me wrong
i like seeing a new coffeehouse
here and there
     a few more poets crawling out
     to find the sun
     maybe getting their hands dirty
     in an urban garden
planting some new trees and keeping
the chainsaw managers
(yes, the offspring of the hoop thieves)
          at bay

--- e b bortz

(published in earth notes and other poems, Least Bittern Books, 2015)

sometimes dangerous thoughts

from rusty shadowed alleyways
speak out of turn
long after being demolished
& sold for scrap

clandestine attempts to restart
the obsolete
     surplus value cycles
     embarrass even commodity futures

cries of loneliness
will be shared
finding comfort
in the margins

pseudo-clever
cable-networked jingles
deaden the mind
making strange answers

totally unexpected
     & real
like a prism of stained glass
     clashing visions

--- e b bortz

the signs of prague 1968

were all over the buildings
     still
in the spring of '69

svoboda!

among the images i still see
     though
they seem to have taken
an alternate deeper dimension
than the big headlines of
the crushed socialist experiment

not unlike the streetcars swaying
     swaggering
over cobblestone streets
     like those in my hometown
          (pittsburgh)

& the soviet tanks
of august 1968
coinciding with the chicago tanks & teargas
     of the democratic party convention
     (i can still taste it)

from the air
the farmland had a rich
     deep brown
     almost black color
land that had the look
of a thousand years
     of care
even through all the wars & invasions
& death
     there was that indomitable spirit
          to grow and nurture

even in the coffeehouses then
there was a brew
of revolutionary libertarian communes
(this is only an oxymoron to the stilted dogmatist)
     youth rebellion
     the world over
          looked unstoppable

and we each had our small part
in answering the call
     imperial war
     or principled resistance
     the prague generation
     our mentor

--- e b bortz