Happiness is Poetry: d.a. levy
d.a. levy
If you want a revolution, return to your childhood and kick out the bottom. ~ d.a. levy
Like a lot of poets I read, I first encountered D.A. Levy in the American Bible of Outlaw Poetry a book I consider to be the best collection of American poetry. Levy was from Cleveland a Buddhist Jew, who wanted to read everything and write everything. He was someone who always seemed to be searching for something and I think that’s one of the reasons I identify and enjoy his work. He also saw the need for change in society, I wonder what he would think of America today. Here are a few of his pieces, enjoy, and have a happy day my friends. ~ Rev Kane
Sitting on a bench near TSquare
(for David Meltzer)
1.
through the branches of
the thin trees of tenth street
the blue sky waits
with me &
im waiting for god
(on a white horse)
to ride thru the
branches of
the lower east side
before returning to
cleveland
& something
tells me
he isnt coming
2.
im a levy of the levites
yet in cleveland
i have painted myself
celtic-blue
& am feeling
something like an outlaw
the druids give me soup
& think im a lama
its been close to 7 years
ive been looking for god
& the trails wearing as
thin as the trees on tenth street
i am a levy of the levites
& last week
a fanatic jew in the heights
called me a halfbreed
because my mother was a christian
i am a levy of the levites
& last week a rabbi
thought i was kidding
when i told him
i was interested in judaism
god i think yr sense
of humor is sad
& perhaps you are also
feeling something
like an outlaw
god i am wondering
for how many years
have the jews
exiled you
while they busied themselves
with survival
for a rainy day
kisses
we tried to save
pressed in books
like flowers from
a sun warmed day
only
years later to
open yellowing pages
to find those same
kisses – wilted and dry.
Suburban Monastery Death Poem
PART ZERO – Celebration With Rada Drums
only ten blocks away
buildings burned – perhaps burning now
the august night broken by sniper fire
police men bleeding in the streets
a sniper surrenders (perhaps out of ammunition)
Gun Jammed?
someone sed he was framed in a doorway
like a picture – his hands in the air
when they shot him –
only ten blocks away
from my quiet apartment
with its green ceramic buddhas
& science fiction books
unread skin magazines to be cut up
for collages
only ten blocks away
from my total helplessness
from my boredom enforced by the state
they are looting stores
trying to get televisions
so they can watch the riots
on the 11 pm news
the national guard jeeps patrol
the streets again
the army-green trucks with the
giant white star on the side
moving in the summer lightning
i cd tell you partly
why it happened
but you wouldnt believe me
like in Milwaukee
during a reading
just after i said
“this is a paranoid poem – written when i was
experimenting with paranoid states of consciousness,
but im not there anymore”
& a young girl sat writing
“shows paranoid symptoms”
probably for her psychology class
not hearing me at all
i cld try to tell you
about the hopeless despair
ingrained in ghetto walls
& police brutality or police stupidity
or police reality is more than just words
to define situation
by students looking for a cause.
the situations exist & continue
quietly in the dark while the
protest goes on in daylight –
both unheard.
Really
the police try to protect
the banks – and everything else
is secondary
during the riots
i watched the news
& didnt pick sides for a change
i just sat wondering about all
the living room revolutionaries
safe in the suburbs
who cheered everytime someone
was shot or a building went up
in smoke
ten blocks away
it was real
thousands of tourists
arrived
The Ministry of Happiness 