Joey Cloudy online

My Blue Sun

For my son Da’rrell Jamaal Cloudy

“The truth is…you’re the weak and I

Am the tyranny of evil men. But I’m trying.

I’m trying real hard to be the shepherd.”

-Jules Winfield

I sit half lotus, a wilting flower child

Shimmering, beneath transparent salinized beads of dew.

Sentience simmering, beneath polluted ash blue clouds

God and his unveiled threats

Hover ambivalently angelic above

Omnipotent

Silent.

Aboard the number one north

Eyes looking out, through a dreaded spectral reflection.

Gazing back with equal indifference

From the smoke tinted window.

Focusing on what’s beyond the surface

As the dart bus rolls past Tietze park

I see the park bench

Empty

Still

Bolted to the concrete.

Where we sat with Jolee on fathers day

On our way to the balcony club

Casting our “ballot for eternity”

Killing time.

Naming the frothy white clouds

Feeling Adams power.

13 summers have come and gone

As you reproach childhood’s end

Body beaten

Spirit unbroken

By your mothers dope fiend demon lovers.

Unintentionally internally strangled

Medusas mothers love

A hang-mans noose

Her umbilical cord

The threat of strange fruit

You fought death herself for your right to live.

Perhaps you hold on to fractal fetal memories

From the nine months you spent imprisoned In Utero

Floating solitarily confined, 

In the “supernatural darkness”

Forbidden an exit from Eden to existence

You summoned your power animal

Found unknown courage

You ripped its flesh

Devoured its heart

And now wear Jörmungandrs skin for armor.

Yet every step away from her

Tightens the noose around your neck.

You attempted to swim out of her

Fleeing to free yourself

From her fortress of feminine fibers

Unconsciously confined

Behind pink meat porcelain

Walls of forgiving liquid flesh.

The hobbled un-evolved imagination,

The unforgiving mind,

The infantile psyche,

The eaters of time

Rib cage bars

A minimal

Gravity

Prison

You never accepted your mandatory sentence

Though you knew no other world

Silently you raged at this

Extra sensory perceived injustice.

Feeding on the wardens left-overs

Breathing second hand smoke

Kicking and punching the walls

Looking for the weak spot

Seeking the warrior poets holy grail…

…FREEDOM…

“… just another word for nothing left to loose.”

Now the consequences of leaving grow grave.

Five years later,

A half brother,

A half sister,

A half-life of your decade spent

Rearing the crack fiends mongrel brood.

A few years ago you told me

While we walked to the Medallion

That you would never have children

And I understand

For you’ve spent too much of your childhood

Babysitting Bébé’s kids

Your mother too tired from a life spent

Pushing peoples buttons

Chain-smoking reefer

Benson & hedges menthol 100s

Sits catatonic

A baked couch potato

Watching sit coms on the boob tube

Or is the boob the watcher?

So you put the dogs out

Clean a three-bedroom house

Microwave dinner

Feed the babies

Do your homework

Get ready for bed.

Is her ignorant asshole x back inside

Or has he come back

Into her lies with more lies

Pathetic her only currency

Her melanin deficient skin

Always looking for a bigger blacker cock to suck

But what it’s attached to ain’t never good enough

“the fucking they give ya’ 

ain’t never worth the fucking you get”

True love swallows but I remember she always spits

And sometime I wonder will she ever grow tired of this?

“Oh momma I’m in fear for my life

From the long arm of the law….

Hangman is coming down from the gallows

And I don’t have very long.”

Inside of her small body

You grew too large to pass

Through boyishly narrow hips

“She had the white girls disease

noasatol…

NO ASS AT ALL.”

The obstetrician gave her an injection

to artificially induce labor

Telling us to come back

Later that night

Or tomorrow morning.

Immediately, she went into labor

We took the elevator downstairs

Hand in hand we worriedly walked

To the west side of medical city hospital

To get her checked into the maternity ward.

14 hours later

You had stopped moving

Heartbeat erratic

You refused to drop

Tangled in lifes line.

A useless coach I stood beside her holding her hand

The surgeons yellow rubber insulated scalpel smoked

Where he made the incision

Above her newly shaved (sex)

Puffy pink blood engorged (vagina)

An empty useless (cunt.)

Curiously distracted I asked

“is the scalpel cauterizing the incision?”

Surprise at my question visible, in two of his four eyes

All other parts being surgically gowned and masked

“yes.” he replied

Again lending his full concentration to the task

At latex covered hand

Gloved hands slide inside

The scarlet oozing black horizon

And I watched you silently rise

“no man of woman born”

Over our old womb prison

To shout and shine

My latest born

My beloved beauty

My blue sun.

All wrongs made right

‘Neath pure light

My holiest one.

Angel washed and weighed

We all watched amazed

I knew Josephs joy

When in my arms you lay.

I loomed large as a mountain over you

Swaying in the cosmic wind

The spirit breath

As god breathe the breath of life into you.

I ached to lift you up over my head

And stand on the tips of my toes

Just to get you closer 

to heaven and home

And the starry eyes of creation.

I wanted to sing a heavenly hymn

Heralding your arrival

Honoring the mother/father of us all.

But instead I held you closer

More gently

A treasure more precious than a Faberge egg

Whispered your name baptizing you

In a fathers weeping twin rivers

“…te quiaro, te adoro, mi vida.”

But your momma would not be ignored

A year and a half later the gulf war

When she said she needed space

And she showed me the door

Too little too late for you and me

To escape each others gravity

Now the good old boys

Of the brave new world order

Wage new wars with holier than thou old hates.

“an american imagines they are suffering

When they are merely uncomfortable”.

I’ve assured your place in the next life

For you shall have celestial legacy.

You’ve survived the psychic crush

The forger of souls is finished with us

The smithy holsters Mjölnir

Seeing holy swords spirits tempered.

But they “…didn’t expect you to come back

With knowledge in hand

And your soul shackled behind your back”

And here we go doing the time warp again.

While lazy miners hold up a shovel full of common ground

Dirt, presented as precious metal

You clawed your way out of the womb

Of a dead stars gravity well.

Now you solemnly sleepwalk towards the event horizon

Cursed with the scarecrows second sight

As you surreally stride this spinning sphere of sorrow.

The black bird sings an ominous chorus

“DON’T LOOK BOY, DON’T LOOK.

 I TOLD YOU NOT TO LOOK.”

You observed the whole alphabet degeneration

Gang bang babies and their idiot nation

“and their heads shall be crowned 

with a laurel in oblivion”.

While the x chromosome fearing, y hating state

Threatens with new prisons and legislate

Laws whose only purpose is to emasculate conceptions

No justice no peace of mind

No peace on the rock

No piece of pi…

Just us.

Co-conspirators conspiring to crucify free verse

In order to maintain the status quo

Capitalism,

Conservatism,

The shroud of terror

Worshippers of mammon in corporate christ cloth

Were-wolves in blood frocks

Political animals wear no mark

Concealing their bestiality.

The immoral majority

Hiding hates behind

Atomic dogma.

Once she said to me

“when he gets older

He’s going to see you did nothing

And I did everything for him.”

They have words for men like me

Terms of derision for poor poppas

DEAD

BEAT

DADDY-O

“whose poverty is the spectre of genius.”

Conversely contemplate

What do we call a woman who has no money

Only infinite love for her children

Ah now I remember

Homemaker

House wife

Mother.

FUCK HER

Yeah she was a model at one time

And this aryan nation said she’s fine

But I never succumb to her barbie doll beauty

She was just another chalk-face to me.

How was I to know,

That by failing to acknowledge her alien anglo beauty

I inadvertently “impaled her on her own ego”.

I want you to know

That I will always love your momma

For she taught me the difference

Between fucking and making love.

You were consciously conceived in loves liquid light

At the ecstatic height of our humanity

Now you my blue son

Humble us.

I know you’re too young to remember

Pony and me would sing for you till you fell asleep.

The lullaby our drill instructors sang for us

The only song we both knew

The united states marine corps hymn.

There is a difference between being servile

And acknowledging it is an honor to serve.

I remember how you kept my secret

Never telling your mother

About the two years I spent homeless

Living near the streets

In crack fiend infested dot head hotels

Friends futons

Couch cruising

Sofa surfing

Staying up all night in 24 hour dinners

Denneys and Ihop sometimes

But we preferred the metro and c.j.s

They both had juke boxes.

Play your favorite country rap song

“Help! I’m White And I Can’t Get Down”

And no matter how many times you played that song

We both laughed till we cried.

Drinking good cheap coffee

Reading, writing poetry,

Sharing french toast

Neo beats napping in shifts

Till the busses began running they’re routes

We grab our gear and get ready to bounce

Where?

It doesn’t really matter

So long as we keep moving

Never staying in one place long

Enough to wear out our welcome.

To paperbacks plus or half-priced books

Chocolate mochas, caramel lattes

Where we contemplate

Metaphysics

Art

Philosophy

Poetry

Where we sat without distraction

Beneath the great abstractions

Wall of glass to our backs

And our feet on our packs

In our favorite place to lounge.

Then it’s back on the bus

To a friends house to hose off,

An entertaining evening

Music, movies, reading, writing

Our lives

Our truth

Our poetics

We are where we are truly loved.

You would usually go to work with me

Oakcliff or the Preston royal gallery

Learning lifes lessons

Always amazed when I would tell you

The price ‘those’ people were willing to pay

To frame art that we both agreed “sucked bone”.

And I still keep my pot stashed

In the black lacquered

Gold trimmed box

You made from scraps

Of picture frame molding.

While we lived with out much

In the way of material possessions

There was no poverty of the mind.

Tuesday nights we went to deep ellum

To host the open mike

And when you were ten

You got up on that cozy little stage

And read your first poem titled

“I SEE”

You listen you don’t just wait to talk

You are my truest friend and confidante

A living testament to the power of love and faith

When I grow up I want to be just like you.

You were there

The first time I read

Allen Ginsbergs ‘Howl’

You walked up to me afterwards

With your big bright brown eyes full

You hugged me hard choking back sobs and said

“daddy! You’re gonna be famous!”

I cried

You cried

We all cried.

Now at 13 you run with the big dawgs

While the pups lick themselves on the porch

With your first book of poetry in the book store

We declare this our last romen noodle and kool aid year!

You now stand 5’ 8’’ looking me in the eye

You grew up fast and fierce

Walking the trail of tears

With you head phones on

Singing along with Janis

“Ball And Chain”

Moon walking the obsidian path to oblivion.

When was the last time

We wasted a whole weekend

Playing video games?

When I see you again we’re gonna play

Till our fingers bruise blister and bleed.

You’ve been to hell and come back

From immortal combat

With poetry, post cards and a tee shirt that reads

FEAR NO EVIL,

Satan’s my jailhouse bitch.

Kronos kind king of killers

Killer of kings

Devourer of children

Eater of dreams

Time marches on without legs

Time flies without wings

The hands of time

Never idle

Digs graves for us all

Time,

Time ain’t on nobodies side.

Although america prefers the bew-tiful lie

To the ugly truth, the meat in the reality sandwich.

Never turn tricks with your soul.

Or whore your self for corporate gold.

Pop star fame glitters but it’s only iron pyrite.

Do you want to spend your life full of inner strife

Perpetually type casting your pearls

Before the suburban herds

Of human bovine and swine?

Do you want to live forever?

Then worship and write the truth

And leave behind a legacy of sorrow.

Be here now, live in the moment, truly live today

For none of us is promised a tomorrow.

the Sufis say

“a truth not lived is no truth at all”

So meet me at mid-day when life is all about

And you and me we’ll start the revolution.

Poeme by joey da’rrell cloudy

Sunday, August 11, 2002

-about the author 

JD Cloudy’s poetry has disappeared in the literary journals; Fatfizz, Mad Swirl, Texas Beat Anthology, Danse Macabre, Du Jour, and Death List Five. He has won no literary awards, entered no slam competitions, and never completed college. He lives to write in Dallas, Tx.