Beans In A Jar

Poems by Chuck Cliff

Beans in a Jar
Disjointed Couplets
Common Humanity
Have you heard?
What then?
It is a Fact
Ends of Delight
Let Us Pray
The Pale Worm
The night is Angry
Dont think that thought
What Do You See
There are Seasons
1
Beans in a Jar
I want you to take a good look at the beans I have in this jar.
I got them last night from a madman I met in a stinky old bar.
He swore they were sure good for something, but I didnt quite catch what it
was
He screamed like a dying folk singer as he was carried away by a flood
Of crazy young college drinkers who broke down the barroom door,
Dragged him by his feet out in the street and left the jar on the floor
I want you to come a bit closer and examine whats here in the jar
Im pretty sure you will see just what these beans really are
There were three billion beans when I got them and now there are three billion
more
And soon the jar will break and spill all the beans on the floor
What then will be the beans fate? Will they lay there until theyre all rotted
up?
Or will somebody come and gather them all up
And sort them and put them in a new jar far better than the one before
I want you to come yet closer and put your ear next to the jar
You will hear the sounds of a fear which is near and not from afar
A fear which will mutate to hate -- a hate which is felt more than seen
Did you know that the things that you do can often come back and haunt you

2
Disjointed Couplets
If it was just a question of
hope and truth and faith and love,
You know, we could easily
live in true fraternity;
However, as the world in fact is run
by a kick in the ass at the point of a gun;
& the Prince of this World is a sonnuvabitch;
& all verses will rhyme when hes thrown in the ditch.
The reality in which we live
belongs to those who trust and give
Their love before they have received
and not because of what they believe.
The streets of Heaven are lined with gold;
but gold can be so very cold
As to burn your feet as much as heat --
which is where Heaven and Hell both meet.
Dont give me any dirty looks,
Ye God has never written books!
Ye God writes upon the distant stars
whats written on the human heart
3
Common Humanity 1999
We cannot create such myths as those
our world rests upon,
Except that we go back to the root,
and there begin again...
To grow from the root itself is the
only best solution!
But if the roots themselves are withered and gone,
my friends, what then?
There are those who say that we can take a book
down from the shelf,
Brush off the dust and say: All Truth is Here!
-- they lie in their teeth!
The Word of God is no single Book,
or multiple of Books!
The Bible, Koran, Tanach -- make no mistake,
were written by people;
People of flesh and blood, like you and me...
And should I say in truth that Jesus was a man,
Is what he said and did anymore the less for that?
I think not!
I can only see a problem for those
short-time hustlers and cheats
Who write those blank checks and issue false chits
in the name of God...
And feeling as I do about the one
dearest to my heart...
What need I say about that bearded one,
or those bald Buddha's?
No need to give me dirty looks:
God does not write books!
4
God writes the Sun and the Moon,
the near and distant stars...
And if you will be but still a moment,
and open a little:
Ye-God will write all that you need
to know upon your heart...
(in a tiny cut upon your secret heart)
& then, my friend, the Bible, the Koran, the Tanach;
Yes, and all the sutras in the Three Baskets;
The Vedas, the Mahabaratha, the Bahagavad Gita,
(and maybe even the numbers in the telephone book)
will be not only some,
but a lot of use to you!
In every generation:
we must create anew the myths
upon which our world rests.
In every generation:
we must go back to the roots,
renew in daily life, where it all begins:
in creation -- that is the only best!
If our common humanity is then the root,
nothing can stop us then!
Peace to you all, dear friends,
Love being aware
_________________________________________________________________________________
9:00 AM Sunday, 24 May, 1999, Ljungby, Sweden
As I started to write the signature and date to this manifesto, I had a flash of ego pride that some
people might get the impression that this was inspired or channeled. As I was wallowing in all
that lovely ego juice -- the message came up on my laptop screen that I had better save my work real
quick or change from my batteries to another power source or risk losing all my work.
I guess the moral of the story is that, although we can and in fact, must run on our own batteries, we
all need another power source.
You can call it whatever you like, I call it our common humanity.
5
Have you heard?
Its said that a human has been cloned!
And one of the first comments I heard was, Science has gone out of control!
Thats ridiculous!
Havent you heard?
Science is not out of control -- indeed science is ready to disprove the claim of
the Raelians.
Its a religion which claims a living, human clone!
Its a religion thats out of control!
I bet the Raelians are pulling a publicity stunt to gain attention -- and, I
suppose, followers for their religion. Ill bet theyll be coy, if not outright
sneaky, in releasing material for DNA analysis.
Ill also bet, that whatever the consensus of the scientific community, they will
continue to maintain that they are producing clones -- its their religious duty!
6
What Then?
When the lines are drawn and the dice are cast
& lightning flashes from west to east;
When the future dawns and the present is past
& the first are last and the greatest are least;
When evil spawns and the earth is trashed,
her cities smashed to feed the burning feast;
When birds alight to eat the meat
of kings and taxi-drivers in the street...
When Innocence Ends and a great divide
unfolds and rends the burning sky;
When violence flares and wickedness
is counted as blessedness:
What then my friends? When the river bends
with crimson tide, where then shall we hide?
& who then will dare to send their prayers
into a dark and restless night?
Perhaps youve heard about a virgin womb
and that in Heaven we own a home?
Just bow your head and say these words:
I believe in the Empty Tomb!
& suddenly then the holy dream
of all mankind applies to you!
& Jesus will come to rapture you
& take you home and comfort you!
While far below, where misery flows
in bow echoes (which only the Shadow knows...)
While broken bones, by steel hooves,
are crushed and ground to dusty flour
To make the bread which feed the dead
who live in sinful blessd power
While drinking wine from blood sublimed
In the wreck of Heavens wretched towers...
7
Do you really believe that eternal bliss
can be gotten like a birthday wish?
Just because you begged for love
and prayed a prayer to the Lord Above:
Youll live eternally with saints,
amid their red and golden paints?
Youll sing for joy and play with toys
that whizz and pop and never stop;
While in your heart youre still a part
of that which tears the world all apart:
With groans and stones and breaks the bones
of the Earth, the mother who gave us birth?(!)
We have a friend in Jesus -- thats true!
But only if he remembers you!
& well he may if every day
we remember him in what we do:
In the little deeds which no one sees;
those little acts of kindliness,
Of love and mercy to those you see
today -- our common humanity...
When it all comes down to dust
is there anyone you can really trust?
The nails point of your agony
is really the only hiding place!
You must love the truth with real faith;
& taste not illusions sold
By blithering biblefreaks who waste
their breath on garbage gilded with gold.
***************************************
8
Its a fact
Ive found a very clever way
To solve a lot of problems were facing here today.
The only thing we need to do
Is deny reality, deny its really true!
Ive started believing that
Its a real fact, the Earth in fact is really flat!
So those who sail too far from land
Fall off the edge and never ever are seen again!
Its really such a simple device!
Just say that lies are truth and truth is lies
It doesnt matter
9
End of Delight
It was strange, all that year, how most anything wierd
that could happen to happen did happen indeed!
When those lights in the sky at night appeared,
these flocks of small elves danced under the trees,
It was like the ancient mythology
was quickly becoming the new reality!
Its beginning seemed so innocent and devoid of all threat,
but that was before what was later to come.
The unicorns are peaceful, it was often said,
and chimeras are enjoyed by some,
but when furies and banshees flew through the night
it was the end of delight and the beginning of fear.
A hero was needed with the power and might
to banish the monsters and make the way clear
for a world of Truth and Love and Light.
Well at least that was the story for the press
A Great City of Light upon a Hill
10
Let Us Pray...
Come, join hands with me and let us pray for justice!
Ah, but dare we pray for just that?
What if the justice we deserve be visited upon us,
for all our sins of omission and commission?
Well then, let us pray for mercy and forgiveness!
Ah, but dare we pray for such a giving?
What if they were forgiven for the things they did to us?
Would that not be somewhat -- unjust?
For what then shall we pray? Understanding and compassion?
Ah, but dare we pray for even that?
What if such an understanding is not enough
or compassion cannot stem the flow of blood
desired by the beast?
11
The Pale Worm 07:26 090209
I wish there was a way that I could say
exactly what it is that is killing me.
I caught a glimpse of it the other day,
but was too afraid to really see
it close and -- in a flash -- it was gone!
I haven't the courage to dare to give it a name,
that pale worm, sixty light years long...
With its heart of ice; with its breath of flame:
its coils are squeezing the life out of me!
Could I but look that beast square in its single eye,
I would be free at last! Its not likely
Ill ever do it and that is why, ever faster, I die...
I am tormented by the things I never did,
wracked with words I never said, but hid.
12
The Night is Angry! 1982 Chuck Cliff
There is no way to say these things unsaid.
Its too late to play it nice and cool.
The frozen flesh in freight-train cars
sheds moaning tears between the stars.
The night is angry, and you screamed Stop!
far much too late, my friend.
Have you forgotten the lines were stripes
of red running down naked backs?
You stand aghast because of these
dislocated debaucheries?
And yet, their dismembered memory
still titillate your fantasy?
The night is angry, and you said Stop!
far much too late, my friend!
You cant forget the lines you read
were strips of naked facts?
Down the road, they were selling dope,
fifty pounds of antelope,
frozen eyes, beyond all hope,
were bulging from the hanging ropes.
The night is angry, and you said, Drop
your trousers and bend over!
Twenty-five lashes on bare asses!
And all their clothes were full of lice!
The long lines of tears are streaks
disappearing in the dust.
The underground parking lots
echo the unfortunate sound of rust!
We only do what we must!
Her every limb is out of joint!
Is there a reason for all of this?
Madonnas face shatters the morning!
13
Dont think that thought
You dont even want to think that thought,
you dont want to go there.
It must be something that you caught,
like a virus in the air.
Remember all that you were taught
in school and the heritage we share?
Remember how our fathers fought
for freedom and the symbol we wear?
A symbol? Shes more than that to a man!
Old Glory, whose stars have waved on far
And distant shores and desert sands,
under burning sun and sparkling stars!
As free men, with their hands
they fought to make the world free,
Gave their blood to make a stand
and gave their lives for liberty!
Did someone say that we oppress,
that we, in the name of democracy
Torture folk with harsh duress,
commiting hidden atrocities
& when the news gets blown we bless
ourselves with blue-eyed ferocity,
Maintaining it was just a jest,
a few bad-apples frivolity...
While those who tell the dirty lies
and bleed the world to make a buck,
Smile behind their holy disguise and,
never happy with more than enough,
Pollute the commons and the public mind
rip us off and call it luck
14
What Do You See (About Two-by-Fours in the Eye)
When you close your eyes, what do you see on the back of your eyelids?
Do you see the kind of things that cheer you up and make you glad?
Or do you see sugarplums wickedly twisted out of shape?
Dont let these dreams of glory and pink clouds go to your head!
Dont let the snaggle-toothed monsters bring you down instead!
What you see is only You-Seeing-You, seeing you;
along with some half-digested videos from the evening news.
If only you could get to be real good friends with you,
these inflated dreams and porno flicks would shrink to normal size.
Dont be like the guy in The Body Snatchers who dared not close his eyes,
he thought that could keep the dreams and the stoopid pictures away!
The fact is, youll see them pasted on the faces of the people you meet.
In the end, youll see chimeras and monsters roaming city streets!
Youll run out to save the world for jesus, allah or some nameless god
and end up doing nothing more than pissing in an empty pot!
When it all comes down to dust, you must become good friends with you!
The things you see and do must be the things you see and do!
Nothing more and nothing less, whether youre looking at your eyelids
or the man across the street -- thats what the Rebbe from Nazareth said.
Weeell, maybe not exactly, but its close enough for folk music!
15
There are Seasons...
There are:
Seasons for which we have no name;
Seasons which cannot be understood or explained;
Seasons which our ancestors knew;
Seasons which they, somehow, survived and struggled through...
There are:
Seasons of heat and seasons of cold;
Seasons of changes which have yet to been told
Seasons of wet and seasons of drought;
Seasons when things happen which we never thought!
Seasons when the sky turns black;
Seasons when day is night and the night is cold and wracked
with howling winds and bitter death,
Seasons filled with the terror of the Fenris' breath...
Seasons of hope and seasons of love!
Seasons of longing for the Good Lord Above!
Seasons of hunger and seasons of feast...
Seasons of wonder and a season when, at last, the greatest are least.
16