postmidnight

April 22, 2008 at 1:34 pm (Uncategorized) ()


Iago’s Lament

To you, I am villain,
With the most treacherous of plans
I’ll wear my heart on my sleeve
For I am not what I am
As I stand here before you bleeding
When all else around me have died
I’ll answer the question awaiting escape
From your lips –
Plainly,
Simply,
Why?
What could have driven anyone
To this point of insanity
Rage filled fit towards the carnage
Surrounding we –
I too, am broken hearted
Recounting the now dearly departed
Emilia, Desdemona, Rodrigo &
Oh dear, dear Othello
My brother who made me capable
Of hastening his end as Cain did Abel, yet
For if my brother is my keeper,
Am I my brother’s pet?
Disenchanted mongrel –
Rabid and foaming
As my love for Othello
Became loathing –
Now, I am let go
Perhaps we should start
With introductions –
My name is Iago
With much of this tale already known
Our journey begins with the seeds
Of a reaping being sewn
“we met as soulmates on Venetian islands
we left as inmates from an asylum”
a moor in service of the duke
most found his presence to be a rebuke
truth be told,
but I looked into his eyes,
sensing something more bold –
a spirit and a soul much like mine
the world would be ours in a time
for siding with Othello,
I became a pariah,
But color didn’t matter,
Only ambition and desire
As the other recruits scoffed and laughed
I nurtured Othello into a man who surpassed beast
Together we would never know defeat
Warriors unparalleled
To our enemies, demons born of the pits of hell
Well enough, on the battlefield
We were the duke’s favorite weapons to wield
Two sides of the same blade
Our bloodletting prowess constantly displayed
Earning an awesome reputation
As the laughter faded away
Into my look of dismay
On the fateful day when the duke
Chose as his general the man that I made
Who I risked everything for
No longer my equal,
He was my master, the moor
I was sure I, at least,
Would be his second in command,
Instead he cut me off
To make Cassio his right hand
In this darkness no flower can grow,
So what of your Venetian rose Iago?
Cast back into Othello’s ebon shadow
Deserving to bloom,
Refusing to wilt
Reclaiming my light is survival
I feel no guilt –
Be it reason, madness,
Or steely path to my sword’s hilt
Make no mistake,
These are the tombs Othello built
Had he heeded me, no blood
Would have spilt
Like Roderigo, foolishly enamored
With fair Desdemona
He would have given anything to own her
I, just wanted her away
Her presence encouraging Othello
To play the hero when he
Was no more heroic than i
But once you tell enough tales,
You are forced to live the lie,
Try to fill some grand position
When reputation is an idle
& most false imposition
gotten without merit
I merely wish to ferret out The Truth
That this “noble moor” was most uncouth
False friend & betrayer in parts
His cunning shone through in Cypress,
Mine in his heart,
And yes – I wished to take his life
After too many whisperings
Of Othello’s trysts with Emilia, my wife
My beloved & he,
Violating a divine decree
Filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which
No enriches him
& makes me poor indeed
Othello deserved to bleed
for theft of all that makes a man,
so in bloom, your rose Iago
hatched a simple plan
to make things right
to become karma made flesh
o’er the course of a fortnight
I convinced Othello of Desdemona’s
Wandering heart,
Maneuvered Cassio & Roderigo
To play their parts,
Emila’s end was the price of infidelity
As death often holds hands with jealousy
This body count of Emila, Roderigo,
Desdemona & Othello
Seems too much to manage,
But this is a war with
Collateral damage
My future now, only the fates & Cassio can tell
As I swear, my sole crime was loving not wisely,
But too well
This is the truth, all that you’ve heard
Demand me nothing – what you know, you know
From this time forth
I never will speak word

Universal Donor

I pour plasma onto pages
Of ranting rages
Transcribing wisdom of the ages
Channeling sinners, saints, sages
& gurus
conjuring mojo & juju
in practicing verbal voodoo
bringing the dead back to life
resurrecting trees with every line
I write
My poems are my zombies
I release into the night
Hungry & insane
Between each line you can
Hear the call for brains
Expeditiously surreptitious
The flow is viscous
Aortically overactive & anime vicious
This world has a sickness
Probably an STD
From messing with the wrong people
Consistently
Insistent we ignore history
To accept as is as what should be
Complacency & conformity
Promoting until we behave uniformly
When we should be rude & uncouth
Students of bill hicks
Disciples of raoul duke,
Cursed to follow Douglas adams &
Lenny Bruce
Swearing to tell the truth,
The whole truth, & nothing but so well
Personal credo an evolved
“what the hell?”
called “what the hell are you doing?
are you becoming the change you
claim to be pursuing?”
strange things afoot
trouble brewing,
rumbles stewing,
plotting to undo our imminent undoing
why me?
Can’t deny destiny
Coursing through my arteries
Attempting immortality via
These words I live
Flow positive
So positive
Red cross approved
O positive
Linguistic hemophiliac
Hemorraging verses like a maniac
Klepto stalking stolen curiosity
To steal it back
Robin hoodlum in the
Age of bedlam
Chanting redrum in asylums
The phylums are false
As your assumptions
As manipulated soundbites
For mass consumption
Mentally lazy
More concerned about
Anna Nicole’s O.D.
Or the father of her baby
Than the activities of the
Presidency
Devoting more time to
Paris’ month in jail
Than to the years people
In Darfur have ailed
We’ve bailed on the
Humanist aesthetic
More engaged in apathetic rhetoric
Than actually doing something about it
When Trent Lott
Can compare immigrants to livestock
No one calls out bull – no shock
This planet needs fixin
As truth gradually becomes fiction
We can’t see how the system got broken
No clearer
Low visibility with too much
Smoke & mirrors
Genesis of our situation
Born of political prestidigitation
Cloaked in false corollaries to
Form international sleight of vocabulary
Until our language is worth
Less than mud
I can’t give my word anymore
I just give blood.

postmidnight is one of the hottest young poets on the spoken word scene. He’s slammed & performed across the country, read his work on several radio stations, & done work with various non-profit organizations ranging from schools to soup kitchens. He’s the author of 2 screenplays, a stage play, & 6 chapbooks. Attempting to legitimize the vocation of “rock star poet,” he is currently recording with his band, Inside Job. Click here for further biographical information.

Princeton Rep Shakespeare Festival/Shakespeare in the Square Shakespear-e-thon 2008
This year, Princeton Rep is pleased to present its annual Shakespear-e-thon as part of Princeton’s Communiversity Street Festival on Saturday, April 26th on the Palmer Square Green from 2:30 to 4:30 p.m.

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