Paul Richmond was awarded Beat Poet Laureate by National Beat Poetry Foundation for, MA 2017-2019, USA 2019-2020, & Lifetime 2022. Performs nationally and internationally, solo and with “Do It Now.” He has eight books, more info humanerrorpublishing
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| Paul Richmond |
Clouds, Hopes, Dreams
When you open your eyes
What do you see
Are you in a war zone
Are you in the woods
Are you in a hospital ward
Are you seeing death and destruction
Are your seeing beauty
Yoko Ono said living in Japan after the bombings
She only wanted to look up into the sky
To watch the clouds
See how they changed
It gave her hope that things do change
You can dream
You see dragons
Faces
Wild horses
Whole stories unfold
Shown the unfamiliar
The abstract
Formations that don't fit
Into neatly defined boxes
The beauty that is shown and washed away
There is no holding on
Only taking in
Appreciating
Having to let go
The continual changes
The darkness
Then the dawn
The clouds passing over head
Here comes a story
Here comes a storm
Here comes relief from the sun
Look at the beauty
To be overwhelmed
Not to be taken for granted
Will never be the same
It is all there for us to see
Have you looked up
Do you see
Do you feel the hope
Do you dream
Here come the clouds
Here come the clouds
From Swimming Lessons on the Titanic
Parting Words at the Funeral
People stepped forward and said
He was a drunken slob
He beat his wife and abandon his kids
He made my life hell
I am glad he's dead
He was my older brother
He beat the shit out of me
He dominated my life
Taking anything he wanted
I thought of killing him several times
I am glad he's dead
Everyone at the church
Thought he was a saint
He played the organ every Sunday
When we came home from church
He beat me and my sister
I am tired of the lies
I am glad he's dead
He lied
He stole
He cheated
He was tormented
He was never the same after the war
He wanted it all to just be over
May he rest in peace
I am glad he's dead
She said
She never wanted children
We stopped her
From doing everything she wanted to do
She beat us
She pushed us away
Told us how much she hated us
We all wanted to be free of her
I am glad she's dead
He was my older brother
Everyone said I was lucky
To have an older brother
After years of abuse
Being raped by him
I am really glad he's dead
Thank you for all coming here today
We are sorry to not have time to hear from all of you
If you could tell the people towards the back
We are out of the a lotted time
To show your respect for the dead
Besides the food is getting cold
And people what the bar
To open
If I may speak for all of you in closing
We all share feelings
Of relief and joy
We are all really, really really glad
It's over
It's over
From The 24 hr Store is Closed
More Material
This is ancient story
About a tribe in the jungle
Long before there were Anthropologist
This tribe was deep in the jungle
They were surrounded by Lions
Every day the Lions would attack
Every day the tribe would fight back
Everyday there were causalities
They had talked about this endlessly
What could they do?
No matter how many Lions they killed
There always were Lions attacking
One day one of the members of the tribe
Came forward
And announced they had an idea
They were a poet
No one in the tribe liked poetry
And poets even less
They were told they could share
Their idea just don't do it as a poem
And since no one else had any ideas
They listened
The poet explained
That poetry comes to the poet
As a gift
Maybe from a higher place
That possibly telling poetry to the lions
Would soothe them
That they would feel content
And not attack the tribe
The poet volunteered
To go out to the lions
And recite their poems
For the safety of the tribe
Everyone was happy to send out the poet
They even packed them a lunch
So the poet
Wandered out to find the right place
Since reading your poetry in the right atmosphere is important
And waited for the lions
Loins started coming towards our poet
Poets hate reading to small audiences
So the poet waited as
More and more Lions appeared
Surrounded our poet
And were getting closer
Our poet started reciting Their poetry
The lions began to relax
They were soon sitting down
Enjoying the sun
And listening to our poet
Back in the village
The tribe saw no signs of lions
Could it be possible?
The poet was soothing the lions
A whole day came and went
With no lions attacking
People were now talking about
The value of poetry and poets
And argued about what the poems meant
Back at the reading
The lions were relaxed
As long as the poet read
When the poet stopped
The lions would become agitated
And move closer
The lions seem to know when
Our poet tried to repeat a poem
The lions would become agitated
Our poet was coming to the end
Of the poems they had with them
As they approach their last poem
They were drawing a blank
To try and make up new poems on the spot
As it was later found out
The lions ate the poet
Once they ran out of poems
And were even more content
The whole process had taken
A few days
The villagers were grateful to the poet
What they finally agreed on
Concerning poets
The next poet would have to have
More material
From You Might Need a Bigger Hammer
Love Reading Books
I heard screeching cars
All traffic stopped
Everyone was looking
What were they looking at
Then I saw them
Some people walk, jog
Down the sidewalk
This was making love to the air
As they floated
Like a powerful magnet
A black hole
That sucks you in
I assumed they were just on the way to the library
They were carrying two books
As I walked past
All those who were frozen
In their tracks
All they could do is stare
Mouths open
Walking into light posts
I did my best floating
Taking in the two books
One was Charles Bukowski
The other William S Burroughs
Which leaves a wide divide
To jump into
I floated with enough distances
And said
Bukowski killed his readings with alcohol
Burroughs cut himself up
Not sure if it was a smile or a smirk
I liked it
As we floated together
I continued
Smelling books
I like to do with the lights on
Sliding my fingers
Down the spine of the book
I do in the closet
It might of been the sun
I think their eyes lite up
They stopped
Looked directly into my eyes
And said
In a voice that makes birds sing
I love to take the book jackets off slowly
And floated on
I wondered
If this was too soon
To bring up my love for comic books
At the intersection waiting to cross
The crowd squeezed in
I found my lips in their ear
I print bookmarks with hearts
That I slide in
To hold my place
I promise not to
Tear, crease, bend, pour hot liquid on any pages
Each page will be held
With the deepest respect
They didn’t turn their head
I saw the eyes look in my direction
We arrived at the library
They suggested immersing ourselves
With all the rare books in the basement
I mentioned that I had a library
Just a few blocks from here
They said it can’t be as good as theirs
They said they were on their way to drop off these books
How we presume so much about people
By what we see
I assume they was going to the library
To return those books
Instead
I watched as they slide them
Into there personal categories
Then we spent the rest of our time together
Turning pages
From The Ice Cream Melted
