The Poetry and Prose of John Omniadeo

The Poetry and Prose of John Omniadeo

Sunday, April 24, 2011

The Devil's Easter (or: Hell's Version of the Bible)

First off God let out a Shout
Let there be Light! His Light went out
Adam woke and slept alone
Eve was there in Adam’s Bone
No Real Woman—Understand:
God ripped Eve from Sleeping Man
Dreaming of the Perfect Place
In a Pretty Female Space
With a Snake upon a Tree
And an Apple meant to be
Medicine for Adam’s Wound
Eve ate, Adam ate, They swooned
Looked up Ashamed; They understood:
Evil is Evil—Good is Good
They were Naked and Afraid
Hiding in a Fig Leaf’s Shade
Cowering from MR. BIG
(Yay, Come Lord Jesus—Fry the Fig!)
Humbled Adam knew his Bride
Eve gave Birth to Fratricide
Cain offed Abel, Abel’s Blood
Cried to Heaven, soon the Flood
Drowned All but a Righteous Few
A Drunk, Three Sons, A Beastly Crew
Two were Pious, One, a Cad
Copped a Peek at Naked Dad
Soon Old Abram honed His Blade
A Wife of Abraham was Made
And through the Little Bleeding Slit
Born to Bear the Brunt of It
Ten Elder Sons of Israel
Sold Their Brother into Hell
Sold Themselves into His Pay
Joseph was Embalmed one day
A Nothing Shut Up in the Dark
Lifted Up and called the Ark
Hallelujah! HE WHO IS
Drained of All the Blood and Jizz
(He Who I AM THAT I AM
Shed The Blood of Abraham)
Moses gave the Ark a Law
Killing All Who felt no Awe
Joshuah was a Genocide
When the Ark was on His Side
But Solomon, in Wisdom’s Room
Built the Ark Itself a Tomb
A Veil between the Tomb and Life
Wisdom finds the Tomb a Wife
So the Virgin and the Whore
Dance before the King once more
Still the Temple hadn’t heard
Speaking of the Perfect Word
John, the Man of Good Repute
Is sired by a Doubting Mute
But when the Harlot heard His Chatter
John’s Head—Perfect—on Her Platter
Joseph was a Good Man, He
Can’t sire the Child Eternity
To take the Harlot’s Seventh Sin
How could He have ever been
A Good Man? He Who bore It’s Brunt
Issued from a Woman’s Cunt
That never felt a Good Man’s Touch
But the Father’s Prick was such
As She might LOVE; the Waters came
And washed away All Sense of Shame
And Jesus rose—She oiled Her Hands
Anointed Him, He now commands
Good AND Evil at His Sides
So the Devil’s House Divides
Against Itself and Satan falls
(A Rise for those with any Balls!)
Watch how Scripture comes to pass
God must get Himself Some Ass
Ride it in the Public View
Do a Shocking Thing or Two
LOVE rears up It’s Ugly Head
One Hundred and Fourty-Four Thousand Dead
And All are Rescued but the Few
Lord Jesus asks, “Are You Good too?
Would You save Your Soul and earn
Your Peace? Or would you gladly burn
With Passion on a Cross to spend
Your Spirit? Do You dare to rend
The Veil between the Tomb and Life?
Dare to pierce Your Father’s Wife?
Hate Your Parents for My Sake?
Wed the Dove unto the Snake?
Burn away the World of Lies?
Do You want Salvation’s Prize?
GO TO HELL! Don’t rise above
Three Maries are the Ones I LOVE
One a Mother, One a Curse
One a Harlot and a Nurse
And All are One—I AM a Whoreson
Bastard of My Father’s Foursome
Jesus Christ, I AM the King
Sin and Death, I LOVE Their Sting
Crushed as Seed and Baked as Bread
I AM RISEN FROM THE DEAD"

"Cain offed Abel, Abel’s Blood
Cried to Heaven, then the Flood
Blood and Water I make Wine
Come and have a Drink sometime!
Juice of Abram’s Shriveled Tissue
And My Mother’s Monthly Issue
And My Father’s Daily Seed
Jesus I AM Christ indeed
Now let’s fry a Little Fish
That means YOU get in the Dish
There’s a Meal to make us Full
Served up on a Human Skull
It’s a Good Meal if You think
You can drink the Cup I drink"

War on Earth and Mercy Wild
God and Satan Reconciled

***

(from Mercy Burn, or The Mr. Bones Doggone Versations
a Mystery Play by John Omniadeo
Don't look for it in your local bookstore.)

Love to All,

- John O.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

John O.’s Pointing Out Instructions (Whereby Paranoia becomes the Path)

Don’t trust Them and don’t trust You
Don’t trust Skies of Grey or Blue
Don’t trust Life and don’t trust Death
Don’t trust Following Your Breath

Don’t trust Buddha, don’t trust God
Don’t trust Your Lousy or Hot Bod
Don’t trust Pride and don’t trust Shame
Don’t trust the Cock and Pussy Game

Don’t trust Gay and don’t trust Straight
Don’t trust Love and don’t trust Hate
Nor Attachment nor Aversion
Nor Indifference (that’s the worst one)

Don’t trust Body, don’t trust Mind
Don’t trust Leave-It-All-Behind
Don’t trust Thin and don’t trust Fat
Don’t trust Neither-This-Nor-That

Don’t trust Painful Memory
Don’t trust “I need Therapy”
Don’t trust You don’t—Perhaps You do
Don’t trust They All are helping You

Don’t trust Scientists or Reason
Don’t trust Wise Philosophies an’
Don’t trust Vajrayana, Zen
Don’t trust Barbie—don’t trust Ken

Don’t trust Sober, don’t trust Drugs
Don’t trust Family and Hugs
Don’t trust Dollars, Pesos, Francs
Don’t trust John O.’s Asshole Pranks

Don’t trust Rinzai, don’t trust Soto
Don’t trust Dorothy or Toto
Don’t trust Those Behind the Curtain
Don’t trust Teachers—They’re All Hurtin

“So, What can I trust?” You ask
Answering’s a Hopeless Task
But John O.'s a Hopeless Dude
Here’s His Answer, Rhymed and Crude:

Find Some Way to Concentration
Maybe try Some Meditation
You’ve Six Senses—Learn to Mind ‘em
Now turn Mind to Look Behind ‘em

What You find still can't be Trusted
If You name It—Whoah! You’re Busted!
You might think that It is You
That’s a Thought You can’t trust too

What You can’t find, don’t trust either
Just relax and take a Breather
Let It move You, let It weave You
Let It groove You, let It breathe You

Let It mind You, let It live You
Let It find You and forgive You
In Dharamsala or El Paso
Don’t forget: You’re still an Asshole!

Don’t think It’s not He or She
Don’t think It’s Both or Either, please
Don’t try not to think You’ve found It
But, Jeez, don’t form a Cult around It

Don’t say, “It’s Good!” Don’t say, “It’s Bad!”
Don’t let It make You Happy, Sad
Or In-Between, but Let It Thrill You
Let It Hurt You—let It Kill You


I bow down to All Paranoids. I bow to You, Dear Reader.

Love to All,

John O.




Friday, March 25, 2011

Experience

experience, this consort that you gave me
suckles me just like a tender mum
her bitten nipples swell without complaint
what child would freeze a mother with her warmth?

experience, this consort that you gave me
nitpicks and rages like an angry hag
what fool would argue with a hurricane
or punch the onslaught of the tidal wave?

experience, this consort that you gave me
dances here so naked and alone
who would dare rid her of a single mole
or pin a flower on anyone so beautiful?

experience, this consort that you gave me
is nothing but a rainbow monster lover
my teacher's insight bends me at the knees
joyous the mind who loves to fuck with her

love to all experiencers,

- john o.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Old Folks City

Dear  Readers,

For the last two years I have taken care of my 90+ year old father but we finally placed him in a very nice assisted living facility, hardly a cruel fate compared to billions of others on this planet but comparisons aren't everything, and he is another human with another life and it is ending as I go off to live out the rest of mine...I am sad:

old folks city

don't wanna go down but i do wanna go
they got syrup on the pancakes served with love dontcha know
hang my pictures--we don't have to paint the walls
i really don't plan to be here very long at all

don't wanna go--but please take me down
i need to sleep in that last place i call home
and hold my hand--i'll sit my bones right here
hang on the corner and watch the walkers roam

and i'm goin down
yeah i'm goin down
i'm goin down to old folks city
don't wanna go but
please take me down
i wanna see the last place i call home
i'm goin down
i'm goin down
i'm goin down to old folks city
i'm goin down
please take me down
say goodbye and soon I'll be gone

love,

- john o.

Friday, February 4, 2011

New Moon New Year—Come Bring Your Love to Diotima!

No moon is new but twenty-seven faces are a dream
twelve and thensome times in the cycle of the sun
when darkness is a hole in the sky among the stars
but one time is love when love is pregnant darkness
and the female year turns—o diotima!
when i gaze on your ladder the sky burns up!
going up or down—this ladder is diotima’s
everybody look! look at the ladder of my love!

this year let us take our love to diotima
diotima’s ladder is love itself
san francisco you ask me do i love you?
you whose breasts nursed me through a thousand childhoods?
because i love you i have to leave you
i have to take my love to diotima

everybody come with me
we must all love something
i want to take you with me
come with me to diotima’s ladder
san francisco come with me

gay boys in the castro come with me
richmond russians n sunset chinese come with me
mission irish filipina mexican el salvadorean nicaraguan babes come with me
pier 39 chinatown tourist n stockton pig butchers come with me
montgomery businessmen come with me
cocky soma ceo techies n bored drones come with me
park n haight street shroom n pot dealers come with me
sfpd rollers n pretentious artists come with me
tenderloin junkies n bernal lesbians come with me
bayview n potrero gangbangers come with me
marina n cow hollow yuppies come with me
dishers n diners at saint anthony’s come with me
we must all love something
come with me to diotima’s ladder

john o why should we bring our love to diotima?
john o why do you bring your love to diotima?

diotima’s wisdom links the love for all things high and low
the love for chewing gum and God

you may have great insight 
but you'd still better bring your love to diotima
you may know all things as empty
but you'd still better bring your love to diotima

diotima let me die on your burning ladder
going up or down—this ladder is diotima’s
everybody look! look at the ladder of my love!

i wish you all twelve beautiful moons with diotima!


love,

- john o.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

My Teacher’s Invitation to the Spiritual Teachers

My Teacher said—John, go get the Spiritual Teachers
take em to the place where we did retreat
down in the 'Loin where some boys and girls
likely get fucked fore they get to eat
down with the junkies shootin in the alleys
down where the tweakers get too thin
take them Teachers down to the city
where the cold wind stops at the dumpster bin
John, be kind but get em freakin
let em sit and get hella upset
then—do your job and get em thinkin
they haven't finished their training yet
take each to an empty room and leave em
say a few words as you shut the door:
thoughts are ok but don’t believe em
that’s about it—oh one thing more
out there is the whatever it is tradition
in here is just whatever it is
out there is recognerudition
in here sentient blood and jizz
here no Teacher says what’s right
sit here a year or two—good luck!
remember in your meditation
out there nobody gives a fuck


Love to All,


- John O.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Listen, I Will Tell You What Is Important

Death is important
Important not then but now
Especially important now

Don't do it yourself but let Love instead
Always that is important
In the twinkling of an eye
Let the Last Trumpet blow
You will be changed and maybe laugh

Have
At it

Have
At it

Have
At it

Love to All,

- John O.