by john c sweet
What is GRAND TRUTH!??
The only thing I used to know was grand theft
My ideas were stolen during one too many brawls and
Cracks on my skull
My passion was stolen when all I had left was my hand
And it aint waving goodbye to ya either!
That hand of mine was best at grasping trunks
And twisting necks
The biggest thievery occurred in my sleep
Ooh how I prayed for the big dreamless sleep
Always left counting to 99 in a gasping breathy way
Sitting upright in my dark one room house
I was bent and unbalanced
What of it I am alive
And the dawn was brightened with piercing sunbeams
I rooted around in my pockets for some change
Like the mist on the ground
All of my money has disappeared!
Thieves! Thieves! Leave me be
So I can go to sleep for a 100 years underneath
The bodhi tree
Sipping my curdled milk and tossing rice into the air
At all the people that stop and stare at me
Out on 53rd boulevard
I wish I could gouge out their eyes
Maybe then they can see straight
And ignore me as I try to avoid work of any kind
Cause I told all of my friends that I was gonna be a professional writer
And asked if I could borrow a typewriter
I already had the ribbons stashed in my footlocker
That has seen more miles than a train conductor
Toot toot! What of Grand Truth!
Can I find it on the rails to the west?
Can I find it in the bars where the rednecks in the north
Play 9 ballÂ and call me sissy
Can I find it in New Orleans where allÂ the witches
Ran away from me in fear
And I screamed at them Hey give me back my money!
Iâ€™ll show you a crystal ball right up yer ass!
I know nothing about no grand truth
And I have ridden a 1000 miles on the rails
Drank in every bar
And begged for every drink
Boy do I ever miss it
Someone stole that too
Me here limping along with one shoe
So yea I know nothing about no Grand Truth
But I do know something about
The 8 fold path
Cause I carry that in my pocket
Creased and dirty with my fingers
Memorized into my salty brain
Jumping on one last train to the sky
Cashing in my money
Cashing in my memories
And leaving them all behind for the lot of you
0 thoughts on “*99”
I am so honored to have my work on this site, all the writers here that I have read are all amazing! Thanks so much for making a writers day that much brighter!
Peace to you and in all you do!
John C Sweet
What an overwhelmingly robust piece. The writer really held the reader from start to finish, as he moved them into the most abstractly profound places of his mind. It almost felt as if I was him, seeing through his eyes. To say he took me there would be an understatement. The last line had me laughing like a madman, and pondering what any one of us know about grand truth.
Just one request; more please!
Very sour piece for a man with the last name sweet. But sour in a really good way. Like those gummy kids.
Interesting integration of Buddhist principles and lore as well, even though the theme (to me) is decidedly un-Buddha. Which would make it Buddha. Fuckers.
thanks Kuris-Y! its great to hear when a writers work can take the reader right to the place and ride along with them, feeling every bump in the road, the scents, the scenes, thats what its all about man, and I truly appreciate your time to read and to offer your feedback.
have an awesome creative day!
John C Sweet
Misener that rocks! totally un-buddha which could be the way to finding the grand truth–but the speech is definitely a duality in regards to the 8th fold path–profanity for the sake of emphasis–i dont really think everyone is a bunch of fuckers..
thanks so much for taking the time to read!
This is one of many pieces I have read of John’s that simply make you sit down, shut up..and think.
He captivates the reader, draws them in and leaves them contemplating the rest of the day their reason for being…As a writer… John reminds me that I need to dig deeper…past the surface, past the philosophy..past the emotion…to what is real.
diggin for what is real, can be scary, liberating and odd.
Thank you so much for your support to my work, you are an amazing talent your self!
A man who can submit and comment (and who has an entourage of poet-warrior babes)…my kind of poet! ’99’ is like almost a perfect 100 but not quite…i know that feeling. This poem seems Nuyorican in a way, which i’m big fan of the Def poets too, and yeah, this would be a very good ‘aloud’ not just read poem. I can almost hear it spoken rather quickly…and i’m betting you have a quick thinking mind, as well as a deep reflective one…best of both worlds!
Misener made very apt observation of Buddhist theme. Asceticism–wind a string too tight, it snaps…too loose, and it will not play.
I detected emphasized words (doubled) thruout poem: grand, stolen, hand, sleep, 99, thieves, toot, can, know, cashing. Ah yes, a secret message from the Finn McCoul Guild to meet in the mountain cave thursday and bring your girlfriend. –just kiddin.
Your poem was fun and struck me dumbfounded with dhammapada joy, thanks.
P.S. check out Ikkyu, the 15th century Japanese zen-master who once said in a poem: “Exhausted with gay pleasures, I embrace my wife. The narrow path of asceticism is not for me; My mind runs in the opposite direction. It is eash to be glib about Zen–I’ll just keep my mouth shut and rely on love play all the day long.”