Georgia Kathleen Griffin's Poetic Contributions.
http://www.gkg-arts.com
info@gkg-arts.com
info@gkg-arts.com
info@gkg-arts.com
gkg - georgia kathleen griffin
A resident of northern California, hoping to head south with my partner of 21+ years, Max Strycharske. We have two boys; my son, Adrian Eames (22 y.o.) and Max’ son, Peter Strycharske (25 y.o.). We are eagerly anticipating the birth of our first grandchild, to Adrian, and Wendi Byther, in May 2005. May there be peace on earth for this little one. Miniskirting around
Miniskirting around like some dime store ice pop
Any color you like, no flavor but sweet
The cool dripping off your wrist before it hits your lips
Who are you with when you lay in my arms
Do I register in your mind as you caress my flesh
What do you hear when you render me senseless
Is there anyone with me in the heat of the night
Silent as death and twice as lonely
Sex alone with the one you love
Where are you going with me in your pocket
Am I with you or just stuck in the seams
Miniskirting around like some cheap ass whore
Any type that you like, no scent but sweat
The sap dripping off your groin before it hits my lips
Slime encrusted mattress memorial to the night
Broken clock, broken table, dead bulb, dead bug
There’s an ache but I can guess where it came from
Can guess it was you, who ever you were at the time
Pain, stone, fire, rage, ice, ice pop, ice queen
Ice cream in your hair from lapping the cone of some
Some dime store ice pop with his hair down to there
His pants full of melt in your mouth, not in your hands promise
Miniskirting around like a sad tired breeze fighting
Working its way from the shore to the boulevard with
The mist dripping off the air before you hit my lip
(c)2004 gkg
lemons
they hang
an embarrassment of riches
golden and swollen
rotting on the branches
they are no good
for lemonade
they work for cooking
they call to you
entreating you to
taste the sweet tang
they promise
they lie
(c)2003 gkg
“win the peace”
i keep hearing it - the new catch phrase
from both sides of the aisle, as they like to say
this is politics - where things break down neatly into
two sides of an aisle
bombs don’ fall so neatly
lives are not so cleverly dissected
reality isn’t so compartmentalized
there are more than two sides to any
argument, fight, battle, war, love, peace
how do you win the peace?
is there a method? a trick to it?
would it not have been bloody well better
to not have started the war than to struggle to
win the peace? especially since that peace is
looking a hell of a lot like the war? like
war with a new label?
if i put on jeans, and call it a dress,
am i wearing a dress? or am i just a bit
confused? it would be natural. confusion.
in a world where bombs fall and people are shot
as we try to win the peace, having declared the
damn war won as soon as boot leather hit sand.
a war no one believes in - in fact those shouting the loudest
in defense of the war (an odd concept if you ponder)
seem to be the ones who refuse to think about
it long enough to feel how foolish we are.
how cavalier with the lives of others.
our sons and daughters. their sons and daughters.
both sides of the aisle. and everything in between.
(c)2003 gkg
Weary eyes water, peering into the glare. Purple smudges deepningas the days grind on. Hands dry and cracking, grip
rifles, shovels, children, rubble, microphones. Dull aches, searing pains, exhaustion and despair weave an endless tapestry
of nights of mourning. Dreams of horror or bliss that cannot be. Never again.
Never again, we say. Everytime. We say it. We mean it. Every time. Another tin god, another street paved with gold.
River of oil. River of sorrow. River of tears, feeding a sea of grief.
Life is a fight from the first breath to the last. That which does not break us merely serves to strengthen us, no? And yet,
need we force futher strife? Need we shorten a child’s life? Blind him? Maim him? Rob him? Of love? Of peace?
River of oil... River of sorrow... River of tears... feeding a wallet of green.
(c)2003 gkg
black and blue day
hope glinting weakly
through the merest of cracks
nothing seems possible
everything
all too real
“this too shall pass”
it’ll all f’cking pass
we will pass
not fast enough
not nearly fast enough
(c)2004 gkg
let election day be open season on the f’cking neo-con right wing hyperventilating anti-Christian
christian coalition and evengelical liars - show them this country belongs to all races, all creeds, all
religions, all walks of life, and not to the very few self-anointed keepers of their faith in the almighty
dollar - stanch the flow of blood, stop the might makes right heavy fisted fisting of any unwilling
nation sad enough to be in need and weak enough to fall prey to them and their bombs and their lies
and their massive preemptive strike into the heart of another soul crying out in the darkness that has
become our global anguish - they preempt an innocent nation while the terrorists are freely recruiting
righteous youth to their side and we - we drive those children there with pistols aimed at their feet
forcing them to dance and run to the nearest safe haven where they will be taught to fight back to fight
the almight American weaponry our own insurgency commandeering their nation as a foothold an
stronghold and handle on the oil pump on the vast open lands on the dusky young backs of those we
rape and spit on whose hearts and minds were so willing to be led toward light and love but found
only death and shame - if death is inevitable then let it be in martyrdom to something higher than the
almighty dollar - what an easy way to sway the youth when they are already driven mad with fear and
fear can so easily become rage and hatred bred so swiftly if you know the way into the soul.
(c)2004 gkg
the posture foment
great pith and moment
the soul sucking surge of the heat
and the grasp that leaves me
bruised and alone
with nothing but a memory
on mammary on flesh
but nothing penetrates
the soul
you moved on
after you moved in
and the silence that was
poignant becomes a death knell
an annoyance
a contrivance
and i long to hear the children
the noise
the laughter
that might have been
if i had been
something and someone
i cannot be
i tried to give you everything
by taking away me
but that gave you nothing
but emptiness
i tried to give you security
by taking away me
but that gave you nothing
but questions and fear
i tried to give you happiness
but the pills keep taking away me
and that givees you nothing
but the shell of me
the me that is not me
the me that has no fire
no soul
no rage
and the moment has passed
i’m done licking your ass
and crying when you no longer call
for i know that some how
somewhere
there is me in your soul
that when the pills have finally done their job
and taken me away for good
i will yet remain
in your posture
in your rage
in the love that you give
uncontrollably - improbably
to the ones who need it most
who give you the least
because that is what you will give
yourself
because that is what you give
me
i gave you life, burt you never asked
why
i gave you life, but you never asked
why
i left your life, but you never asked
why
because
you know
because the pain
tells you so
or so i console myself
i don’t really know
because my brain
stops the flow
(c)2004 gkg
more than things we fear
stifling who we are for the sake of the other
more than the acid that floods my eyes at the oddest
moments like listeing to Cyndi Lauper singing
“Llittle one, little son
All my life I’ve wished you welcome”
and i have, I did, I do... and I mourn for the loss of you
loss of my own making, letting fear sweep me like some
torrential rain, waiting for the earth to swallow me
swallow my pain, swallow my heart as it burns in my throat
willing myself not to say the things I feel lest I drive you away
he did this - he and I together - though he is love - I tolerated
like an odd aunt who smells funny gives nice presents and may
some day leave something cool in her will or assuages the
guilt of a child fearing they were not worthy of love
how can I convey that you are worthy always were worthy
yet I was not able to fight for that which I wanted most
more than air more than light Iwanted you your love your heart
your time and feeling yet you go out of your way to meet his needs
to worry over his issues while he is the one who made you motherless
the one who drove me away no respect no love or effort to do a damn
thing to keep us together
self centered self possessed self involved self lost in the world of
self pity and woe is he for the dreams he never realized never bloody
tried to reach the potential it was supposed to reach him you can’t live
that way you can’t wait for it to find you it has to be searched for it has to be
desired and courted like the finest woman you’ve ever imagined
what you desire is not about money or fame
be the creature of light and air that pushed its way from my being
into the world with a joy thatI rarely see now, rarely know myself
if I fade away will you miss me
more than all of these, I have loved you.
(c)2003 gkg
This piece inspired a short musical interlude by a terrific young musician in
England, Chris Moss. If you’d like to hear it go to:
http://www.gkg-arts.com/creative_flow.wmv
Music by Chris Moss hi-fi ninja (c)2004 Buddy-on-a-slab musicTM
For more information on Chris, got to his website:
http://www.iminthehuzzi.tripod.com or to http://www.fletchlivesproject.com
rent flesh
sexual phrase, that
rent = torn
rent = paid for the use of
he rent her flesh in his passion
she rent his flesh btween her teeth
she rent her flesh slowly
he rent his flesh with one stroke
very flexible phrase
very suggestive
leaves me wanting
(c)2004 gkg
welcome
to the sisterhood
of broken dolls
knocked from the shelf
mangled
broken
torn
soiled
scarred
rage
pain
chaos
small hands clenched
pulling, ripping, gouging
punish dolly
bad dolly
if you weren’t so bad
I wouldn’t
have to do this
wouldn’t
have to feel this
wouldn’t
have to
wouldn’t
hurt
(c)2004 gkg
words drip from your toungue like honey from a roll
sweet and thick and enticing me to indulge
though i know, oh yes i know
there’s nothing good for me in there
nothing i need or actually want
just a base instinct to suck
at the teat of a sweet thing
to clutch the warmth and shove my face
headlong into your lies
muffle my mind with the heady
sweetness of your words
damp my lips with the heat
of your implications
i know i am lost
madness envelopes my soul
as i long for the words you say
to ring true
(c)2004 gkg
you’ve never heard me
you’ve tried, but you never really listen
I fear and I hurt and I rage
but you’re deaf
believing I am as you prefer me to be
I am sweet FA to do with that
I can act it - do act it - all the damn time
but I’d love, before one of us is gone,
for you to know who and what the
fuck I am all about
I fear and cry and ache
at the thought of moving from my corner
I boldly run about in full confident facade
but most places I am
I’d rather be any-fucking-where but there
(c)2004 gkg
i am the void
empty blackness opens within me
consuming me
engulfing and subsuming me
rage fills me, but it’s too much
too much work to release it
no focal point to aim it toward
sadness seeps from my pores
pours silently out in tears
unable to work out a sob
i am less than that
less than the dreams i have
less than my fondest hope
i am less than i project
far less than the image you see
i have faded from existence
darkness and ground glass
a home for my soul
bleeding in self pity
aching for the hate i feel
hate and rage within myself
for myself about myself
it is all about me
what i am what i am not
who i am who i am not
i am no one i am nothing
i suck
i am the voice of reason
of logic and pain
i am the hand of temperance
pulling back on the rein
you are nothing
you suck
you are the swirling void
sucking your soul
through a straw
blowing it out
a dripping red globule
splattered on the window
as the rain spits but cannot
work up a retort
(c)2004 gkg
your patience has an edge of rage
your generosity imposing unspoken demands
lying in your arms is an active phrase
nothing taken for granted, though
everything is taken for granted
your eyes have a depth
your soul a breadth
your mind a vision
your hand a thought
i can’t keep up
can’t stay abreast
of every new thing
you see want feel need
detours take you away
detours bring you back again
to a deeper calm with finer rage
an openness that bars all entry
a gentle touch that rips my heart from me
(c)2004 gkg
http://www.gkg-arts.comMiniskirting around like some dime store ice pop
Any color you like, no flavor but sweet
The cool dripping off your wrist before it hits your lips
Who are you with when you lay in my arms
Do I register in your mind as you caress my flesh
What do you hear when you render me senseless
Is there anyone with me in the heat of the night
Silent as death and twice as lonely
Sex alone with the one you love
Where are you going with me in your pocket
Am I with you or just stuck in the seams
Miniskirting around like some cheap ass whore
Any type that you like, no scent but sweat
The sap dripping off your groin before it hits my lips
Slime encrusted mattress memorial to the night
Broken clock, broken table, dead bulb, dead bug
There’s an ache but I can guess where it came from
Can guess it was you, who ever you were at the time
Pain, stone, fire, rage, ice, ice pop, ice queen
Ice cream in your hair from lapping the cone of some
Some dime store ice pop with his hair down to there
His pants full of melt in your mouth, not in your hands promise
Miniskirting around like a sad tired breeze fighting
Working its way from the shore to the boulevard with
The mist dripping off the air before you hit my lip
(c)2004 gkg
lemons
they hang
an embarrassment of riches
golden and swollen
rotting on the branches
they are no good
for lemonade
they work for cooking
they call to you
entreating you to
taste the sweet tang
they promise
they lie
(c)2003 gkg
“win the peace”
i keep hearing it - the new catch phrase
from both sides of the aisle, as they like to say
this is politics - where things break down neatly into
two sides of an aisle
bombs don’ fall so neatly
lives are not so cleverly dissected
reality isn’t so compartmentalized
there are more than two sides to any
argument, fight, battle, war, love, peace
how do you win the peace?
is there a method? a trick to it?
would it not have been bloody well better
to not have started the war than to struggle to
win the peace? especially since that peace is
looking a hell of a lot like the war? like
war with a new label?
if i put on jeans, and call it a dress,
am i wearing a dress? or am i just a bit
confused? it would be natural. confusion.
in a world where bombs fall and people are shot
as we try to win the peace, having declared the
damn war won as soon as boot leather hit sand.
a war no one believes in - in fact those shouting the loudest
in defense of the war (an odd concept if you ponder)
seem to be the ones who refuse to think about
it long enough to feel how foolish we are.
how cavalier with the lives of others.
our sons and daughters. their sons and daughters.
both sides of the aisle. and everything in between.
(c)2003 gkg
Weary eyes water, peering into the glare. Purple smudges deepningas the days grind on. Hands dry and cracking, grip
rifles, shovels, children, rubble, microphones. Dull aches, searing pains, exhaustion and despair weave an endless tapestry
of nights of mourning. Dreams of horror or bliss that cannot be. Never again.
Never again, we say. Everytime. We say it. We mean it. Every time. Another tin god, another street paved with gold.
River of oil. River of sorrow. River of tears, feeding a sea of grief.
Life is a fight from the first breath to the last. That which does not break us merely serves to strengthen us, no? And yet,
need we force futher strife? Need we shorten a child’s life? Blind him? Maim him? Rob him? Of love? Of peace?
River of oil... River of sorrow... River of tears... feeding a wallet of green.
(c)2003 gkg
black and blue day
hope glinting weakly
through the merest of cracks
nothing seems possible
everything
all too real
“this too shall pass”
it’ll all f’cking pass
we will pass
not fast enough
not nearly fast enough
(c)2004 gkg
let election day be open season on the f’cking neo-con right wing hyperventilating anti-Christian
christian coalition and evengelical liars - show them this country belongs to all races, all creeds, all
religions, all walks of life, and not to the very few self-anointed keepers of their faith in the almighty
dollar - stanch the flow of blood, stop the might makes right heavy fisted fisting of any unwilling
nation sad enough to be in need and weak enough to fall prey to them and their bombs and their lies
and their massive preemptive strike into the heart of another soul crying out in the darkness that has
become our global anguish - they preempt an innocent nation while the terrorists are freely recruiting
righteous youth to their side and we - we drive those children there with pistols aimed at their feet
forcing them to dance and run to the nearest safe haven where they will be taught to fight back to fight
the almight American weaponry our own insurgency commandeering their nation as a foothold an
stronghold and handle on the oil pump on the vast open lands on the dusky young backs of those we
rape and spit on whose hearts and minds were so willing to be led toward light and love but found
only death and shame - if death is inevitable then let it be in martyrdom to something higher than the
almighty dollar - what an easy way to sway the youth when they are already driven mad with fear and
fear can so easily become rage and hatred bred so swiftly if you know the way into the soul.
(c)2004 gkg
the posture foment
great pith and moment
the soul sucking surge of the heat
and the grasp that leaves me
bruised and alone
with nothing but a memory
on mammary on flesh
but nothing penetrates
the soul
you moved on
after you moved in
and the silence that was
poignant becomes a death knell
an annoyance
a contrivance
and i long to hear the children
the noise
the laughter
that might have been
if i had been
something and someone
i cannot be
i tried to give you everything
by taking away me
but that gave you nothing
but emptiness
i tried to give you security
by taking away me
but that gave you nothing
but questions and fear
i tried to give you happiness
but the pills keep taking away me
and that givees you nothing
but the shell of me
the me that is not me
the me that has no fire
no soul
no rage
and the moment has passed
i’m done licking your ass
and crying when you no longer call
for i know that some how
somewhere
there is me in your soul
that when the pills have finally done their job
and taken me away for good
i will yet remain
in your posture
in your rage
in the love that you give
uncontrollably - improbably
to the ones who need it most
who give you the least
because that is what you will give
yourself
because that is what you give
me
i gave you life, burt you never asked
why
i gave you life, but you never asked
why
i left your life, but you never asked
why
because
you know
because the pain
tells you so
or so i console myself
i don’t really know
because my brain
stops the flow
(c)2004 gkg
more than things we fear
stifling who we are for the sake of the other
more than the acid that floods my eyes at the oddest
moments like listeing to Cyndi Lauper singing
“Llittle one, little son
All my life I’ve wished you welcome”
and i have, I did, I do... and I mourn for the loss of you
loss of my own making, letting fear sweep me like some
torrential rain, waiting for the earth to swallow me
swallow my pain, swallow my heart as it burns in my throat
willing myself not to say the things I feel lest I drive you away
he did this - he and I together - though he is love - I tolerated
like an odd aunt who smells funny gives nice presents and may
some day leave something cool in her will or assuages the
guilt of a child fearing they were not worthy of love
how can I convey that you are worthy always were worthy
yet I was not able to fight for that which I wanted most
more than air more than light Iwanted you your love your heart
your time and feeling yet you go out of your way to meet his needs
to worry over his issues while he is the one who made you motherless
the one who drove me away no respect no love or effort to do a damn
thing to keep us together
self centered self possessed self involved self lost in the world of
self pity and woe is he for the dreams he never realized never bloody
tried to reach the potential it was supposed to reach him you can’t live
that way you can’t wait for it to find you it has to be searched for it has to be
desired and courted like the finest woman you’ve ever imagined
what you desire is not about money or fame
be the creature of light and air that pushed its way from my being
into the world with a joy thatI rarely see now, rarely know myself
if I fade away will you miss me
more than all of these, I have loved you.
(c)2003 gkg
This piece inspired a short musical interlude by a terrific young musician in
England, Chris Moss. If you’d like to hear it go to:
http://www.gkg-arts.com/creative_flow.wmv
Music by Chris Moss hi-fi ninja (c)2004 Buddy-on-a-slab musicTM
For more information on Chris, got to his website:
http://www.iminthehuzzi.tripod.com or to http://www.fletchlivesproject.com
rent flesh
sexual phrase, that
rent = torn
rent = paid for the use of
he rent her flesh in his passion
she rent his flesh btween her teeth
she rent her flesh slowly
he rent his flesh with one stroke
very flexible phrase
very suggestive
leaves me wanting
(c)2004 gkg
welcome
to the sisterhood
of broken dolls
knocked from the shelf
mangled
broken
torn
soiled
scarred
rage
pain
chaos
small hands clenched
pulling, ripping, gouging
punish dolly
bad dolly
if you weren’t so bad
I wouldn’t
have to do this
wouldn’t
have to feel this
wouldn’t
have to
wouldn’t
hurt
(c)2004 gkg
words drip from your toungue like honey from a roll
sweet and thick and enticing me to indulge
though i know, oh yes i know
there’s nothing good for me in there
nothing i need or actually want
just a base instinct to suck
at the teat of a sweet thing
to clutch the warmth and shove my face
headlong into your lies
muffle my mind with the heady
sweetness of your words
damp my lips with the heat
of your implications
i know i am lost
madness envelopes my soul
as i long for the words you say
to ring true
(c)2004 gkg
you’ve never heard me
you’ve tried, but you never really listen
I fear and I hurt and I rage
but you’re deaf
believing I am as you prefer me to be
I am sweet FA to do with that
I can act it - do act it - all the damn time
but I’d love, before one of us is gone,
for you to know who and what the
fuck I am all about
I fear and cry and ache
at the thought of moving from my corner
I boldly run about in full confident facade
but most places I am
I’d rather be any-fucking-where but there
(c)2004 gkg
i am the void
empty blackness opens within me
consuming me
engulfing and subsuming me
rage fills me, but it’s too much
too much work to release it
no focal point to aim it toward
sadness seeps from my pores
pours silently out in tears
unable to work out a sob
i am less than that
less than the dreams i have
less than my fondest hope
i am less than i project
far less than the image you see
i have faded from existence
darkness and ground glass
a home for my soul
bleeding in self pity
aching for the hate i feel
hate and rage within myself
for myself about myself
it is all about me
what i am what i am not
who i am who i am not
i am no one i am nothing
i suck
i am the voice of reason
of logic and pain
i am the hand of temperance
pulling back on the rein
you are nothing
you suck
you are the swirling void
sucking your soul
through a straw
blowing it out
a dripping red globule
splattered on the window
as the rain spits but cannot
work up a retort
(c)2004 gkg
your patience has an edge of rage
your generosity imposing unspoken demands
lying in your arms is an active phrase
nothing taken for granted, though
everything is taken for granted
your eyes have a depth
your soul a breadth
your mind a vision
your hand a thought
i can’t keep up
can’t stay abreast
of every new thing
you see want feel need
detours take you away
detours bring you back again
to a deeper calm with finer rage
an openness that bars all entry
a gentle touch that rips my heart from me
(c)2004 gkg
info@gkg-arts.com
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