Valery Oisteanu Poet
Valery Oisteanu Poet

Re: Rent a poet for a revolution

Valery Oisteanu wrote: My Dear Mingus! Here are three poems for the Web site! love Val

  Manifesto for the Abolition of Bureaucracy

     by Valery Oisteanu

  To be and not to be in failed American democracy
  Watch the surf going up
  While the Navy bombs beaches of Puerto Rico
  Can we survive the environmental conspicuous consumption
  Living next to the nuke dump, next to the oil drilling
  Can you keep any individuality in the age of cloning?
  Can you be yourself in a genetical brain manipulation society
  Let¹s abolish medieval bureaucracy
  Abandon the shabby machines of voting
  The rigged system behind closed doors
  De-vote electoral college
  Delete the elite
  Dissolve two party system
  To be or not to be an American is the question
  Dissent by any means necessary
  Against cultural colonialism
  Art as an instrument of exploitation should be abolished
  All artists should go on strike
  Against the prostitution of the art institutions
  Against art as money laundering machine
  Against the academies, the prizes, the competitions
  And the army of dealers, auctioneers and agents
  Power to the creative
  Power to the poets who are resisting greed, hate and intolerance
  Ride the volcano of revolution into the sea
  Blessed are the shamans, the stray holy-men of jazz
  The underground gurus who are proving
  That the collective subconscious is not a given
  It has to be created
  So power to the creator.


     by Valery Oisteanu

  Take a poetry pill twice in a lifetime only
  A time-release poetry pill
  One for poetry appreciation and one for automatic creation
  Remember as a child standing up on the kitchen table
  A child stands up in his class
  And for a moment a dead poet comes alive
  Through his throat, through his lips
  Then later a young man reads aloud
  His own poetry in a club, in a pub
  We recite our own poems ourselves
  And for that moment we are alive and in a trance
  Later when we are dead
  We are recited by other literati
  Seducers and collectors of quotations
  But this is not my career
  This is my life¹s vocation
  Ironically against my own will
  Limited by my own limitations
  And imbued by time soaked, immersed in the invisible
  Waters of time
  Who am I? Am I? The eternal Jew
  Pardonez-moi! Excusez-moi
  For hanging myself unsuccessfully
  I may add, in your bathroom
  This is my suicide #17
  And if I often hesitate
  This is my surreal fate
  And if I sometimes seem to stutter
  And if sometimes I seem to stammer
  It¹s language slang that hits me like a hammer
  the sweating horses of my youth
  Spoke Mayakofski¹s Russian
  The singing prostitute of my manhood sang in Romanian
  Multiple personality presenter
  Announcer of Dracula bacchanalia
  the voice of Faustian orgies
  Who am I? Am I? If my voice is not heard
  Thank God I am the inspiration for others
  The inspiration for others to contradict me
  Take me on if you dare
  Love intelligent hecklers
  Silence is a birth mother
  So scream or listen because I have a good reason to write poetry
  And I will shout it from my window
  And on the streets
  Next to the exposed brick like the executioner wall
  The guns fire past me or above my head
  So I can still scribble down my last discoveries
  Of my alter-persona
  Divine presence and vodka saved my soul
  >From the ultimate dishevelment
  I want to die but somewhere in the Jordan Desert
  Till then I will wander through the sweet chaos
  Of my unexpressed existence
  Searching for the invisible self
  Where do I fit in this language room?
  Maybe in here
  In this closet full of stolen grandfather clocks
  Or maybe in this drawer full of lost and found watches
  Who am I? Am I?

          The Dawn of Poetry

               by Valery Oisteanu

  Poetry is dead & we the poets killed it
  Poetry is dead like Nietzsche said
  Mad ones opened Poetry¹s gates
  And the poetry runs out like quicksilver
  Replaced by self indulgent megalomania
  Where are the insurrections? The radicals?
  We are at an end with Romantics,
  All the antics, all the isms, retro-futuro
  Petrified feeling are emptied with the speed of light
  Transparent emotions survive a nanosecond
  A passion is long enough to provoke a² one liner"
  A life drama worth of a "sound-bite"
  Insta message-cell phone-spoken word
  Short verse without internal energy
  Digital memory in an embryonic e-mail speak
  A   quickie-slam for attention deficit poets
  "3 min.& you are out" marathon reading
  A pompous-funeral with incoherent poetry
  Unpronounceable sentences in ³memento mori²
  Click here: www.minimalist
  Poetry voided of poetical experience
  For the Decorticated -"brain-dead" pop-oetry
  Faux-post mortem dedication in 30-seconds
  Prophets Of the Empire of Darkness
  Poetry is dead! Long Live Poets!

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