My family's
Perplexed with
The kind of person
I’ve become.
How I live now,
These hands of mine,
My fingernails and rings,
This frayed pea-coat and worn shoes,
The weatherworn skin, and long hair…
But look at me,
What do you see?
Are these the EYES of insanity?
NO! They’re not! They’re the EYES
Of ‘I don’t give a shit’ anymore…
You copy that?
.
Oh...
Sorry 'bout it.
I’m plain-spoken.
What’s that?
You don’t care?
You want me to be open?
Ok…
Well…
I’m a Vet.
Vietnam.
First Lieutenant.
Air Mobility Assets.
Battle of HO BO Woods’ what changed me,
1966. 1st Bn, 27th Rgt, 25th Division. 25 killed,
32 wounded, ceptin’ me, I lived. ME!
What’s that? An occupation?
Yeah! I had an occupation.
I was a Professor of Philosophy and
Economics for fifteen years before
The pricks punched my number.
Why?
Never really knew.
Too forthright I guess.
I realized early on I was training
People to be slaves in a soulless machine
Whose only purpose was to churn out golems
For the global work-market and a lifetime
Of servitude and tax paying, so I began
Teaching what the students needed
To be creative happy citizens;
.
But them a ’holes didn’t like that!
.
What’s that?
My name?
Whiskey Sierra Papa!
Yeah! That’s my name.
What?
My personal philosophy?
Are you kidding me?
Really?
Wanna nip ‘a hooch first?
No?
Well… ok.
Here’s to ya’ stinkpot.
.
So here’s how I see it…
I began
In convergence
Just like every other human,
A divine revelation, (perhaps) or
A sperm lucky enough to find the egg,
The passions of MALE and FEMALE merging,
A momentary lapse of morals
(Possibly)
Finding a kind of fruition,
Without scrupulous filtering,
Or evolutionary impediments,
Or something more cryptic
To equivocate things even more,
.
I became something unique,
Birthed
Just like you,
Against all odds
And all wars that
Raged against possibility,
I became ME (in a world of ME’s)
Endeavoring to be apprehended, in
Spite of all booby traps and busybodies…
.
Ever coping to realize
A consummate expression,
(Whether accepted or not)
Another ego espousing humility,
An idealist treed in a shitty-system
Repudiating man’s despairing struggle to
Be more than just a hollow-sound in a global
Village of meez and yuze vying to one up
The swarms of prigs all maneuvering to
Lord it over everyone around them,
.
YEAH! That’s how Whiskey Sierra Papa sees it.
Huh? Sum it up?
.
Ok! On and on it goes, pal,
In this world of friends and foes,
And regardless where the river flows,
And despite who thinks I’m just another
Wayward f… who made a lotta bad choices,
I have found this one concept truly unfeigned,
That until MY leaf falls from the tree,
I will continue being ME… Dig it!
.
Hey… you wanna nip ‘a hooch ‘for ya’ go?
.
© richard lloyd cederberg
2018

                      Poetry Life and Times