Joe Kidd Dr hc, Beat Poet Laureate State of Michigan
Επιμέλεια συνέντευξης: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
Joe Kidd is a working, published poet/songwriter. In 2020, published The Invisible Waterhole, a collection of spiritual and sensual verse. Awarded by the Michigan Governor’s Office and US Congress. Joe is the current Beat Poet Laureate State of Michigan, and holds an Honorary Doctorate from International Union Peace Federation. Joe is a member of National & International Beat Poet Foundation, Angora Poets, Michigan Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame, 100,000 Poets For Change.
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Get Up Get Up
get up, get up
your hair is shining
the window is open
you got a card in the mail
get up, get up
do you know what time it is
someone is walking on the front porch
who bought you that pretty bell?
get up, get up
you didn’t finish your cup of coffee
what was it that you started to say
there, there is a white scarf on the floor
get up, get up
now it’s too late to say goodnight
we are empty bottles floating across an ocean
the past is a string wrapped around a finger
Nowdeus
Oh no, I seek not this martyrdom
in a world carnivorous and cold
In a furnace I recreate this art
in a language I am told
For I seek neither chaos
nor order from beyond
Content, this spirit dwells upon
the landscape that is found
Now, if in time, I trod upon
or break through God’s own course
Let it be known, let it be shown
I dare, without remorse
Alone, to bear my burden
In a night of power and of peace
Searching not for answers
In the house of the deceased
Emptiness
draw near the stillness
the gift of darkness
growing, increasing
not thick and heavy
expanding, stretching
giving birth, giving space
to what the magician called “emptiness”
fertilizing these holy mounds
bleeding out into the fields
la sangria est rouge
le roi est mort
to whom do we owe these memories
here lies your valor and patriotism
your land that now devours what remains
to corpses our discussions turn
standing tall in distant silence
floating in eternal rivers
faces frozen
unreasonable
unrecognizable
unnatural
emptiness
here, a song no child has ever sung
