Jeff Can Blog

Milton’s Eulogy For the Other Mans Man
Jeff Klepper

This constancy called life, just repetition, claim a wife
Forge ahead, collect cash, commit to one, and than dash
She lived above you, for some time, you cherished her, in rhyme
The rent gets paid on time, your life savings is gone in nine

Months go by,you work, the world grows bitter, you work
The air gets blistery, and cold, your arms get limp, and old
The kids grow up, you die, their children hate you, you wonder why
Death feels nice you think, never better, don’t have to blink

This is the pattern, we are taught, to love and render, newly bought
Pass away the time, with modern love– be mine

My “Paradise Lost” With The Revisionist History Of American Luxury

Jeff Klepper

The endless poems I have written concern us little with the reality we got

I find myself consumed with what others consider real and not–

Could I be too imposing? Too radical? Too fanatical? Or simply stuck in the habit of decomposing

Again the human state is often too fragile for the complexities of the universe that are often too imposing

The dead leaflets warning of the saving needed to be done on this planet don’t seem to matter

When the cure for boredom is much less based on dead paper and reliant upon live matter

We as a generational façade dependent upon our newfound government structured god

Are just as reliant as the moon is on gravity and the priest is on archaic scripted fraud

This is all about art, and the Christ like figure we will never meet, the Devil is my muse

We can write all about how holy we are, but we are envious of the hoofed shoes

It is much easier to play the advocate that we identify with the most

Because who would want to be in the company with a perfect host?

Where is the fun in living in the clouds with a pompous humanist?

A sadomasochistic self-hating prospector illusionist.

That is who we want to spend eternity with?

The man who brought us Jesus of Nazareth?

I will go with the red-mooned beast this time around.

I rather be in a of bed fire than be in the kingdom of the “found”.

Correspond
Jeff Klepper

Switch off the light that blinds the lie
Salute the soldier sent off to die
Caress the cheek of the love you will not know
Pray to your deity that is not so—

Filter the thought as if you could see
Transmit the thought as if you could be
Express discontent with more than a gun
Ignore the neglect the social class war will never be won

Limit the threat by closing ones mind
Truth in simplicity, may be the hardest to find

Singing To The Looseness; Lucifer and Art
Jeff Klepper

The sight of the lessened heroes shakes our confidence
Now a statue sits in place of human resilience
No, never speak to the dirty tactics we used
For malpractice is a symptom of the confused
Core feelings, sore ceilings, and artistic expression gone
Those are just existential rumblings from generations about to dawn

Oh, fear, I must concur, I should have seen
The droplets of blood on the fingertips of being
So insignificant, yet elegance could not explain
The brokenness of our hearts and in our DNA

So is the trouble with burning out too young
As with many things in life, the world is stung
Shocking, melodic we are, slightly neurotic—
Capping the oceans of time; swollen and hypnotic

But concern us not with god’s lesser-known revivals
And keep reading those asinine outdated bibles

Capture misinterpretation for all it is worth
For gaining sight does not require a religious rebirth

Who Said I Could Still Write? Detailing the Wick
Jeff Klepper

Why is it that the ones with heretical wry are the pushed aside?
While the masses willingness to subscribe to the mercurial genocide is high
This quandary, this luxe of fantasy and deteriorating moral, we possess no longer
Lead us to this juxtaposition with the frivolity of the material matter

Ghosts of debt to the fortune of poetic immortality and the prison of immoral reality
It is just as well as it ever was, for the mirror reflects greater portions of the because—
Revel in ire, revel in reed, revel in the matrimony of the loveless and the greed—
Slip the verb under your tongue and be sure to say “thank you”, when it is done

For again we embark on this twisted tormented trail—
Where the destination is irrelevant but lies within the detail

Hope you all like the new look that my webmaster Greg helped me out with. Thanks again to Greg for making me look competent and up to date.

Tell Again. My Friend

Jeff Klepper

Let’s say we suffered for the worth of the supreme birth

And gentlemen are no longer needed for the judgement of selfworth

Can we get a reprieve or a list of those on reprieve we are all on the clock

I see the world slipping into the figments own imagination and the drift of the flock

Mass murder, assimlate, the world, eats me whole, I skip a heart beat, I’m a fool

We suffer, we kiss, we move, we remove, we enhance, we dance, we are cruel

But what else is new? The enemy is me with arms so strong and resolute.

The abstract, is new, so watch the mature capitalism fade into the new American proof.

Here we go, here we fade. Here we fall, the fallen; see the air. The fallen are prepared.

And as we drift to the known, the fallen will sing a different song, and than we will be once again the ones who cared.

The 9-11 Shivers; We are one month away from progress

Jeff Klepper

Here is the truth, the hyperbole written by Wordsworth but worse

And the hard cover books are tilting my backpack and are more of a curse

So can we please just rewrite the history between the two of us?

And maybe all the existential lies we have eaten will betray us…

But then again we survive on existential laws and whys

And possibly we are just higher beings with good lies?

Or maybe we are better looking creatures than those with eyes

And forgetfulness will translate to the first one who dies.

So, say so long, to the forgiveness train we created long ago

And try to portray the unstableness of the G Train going to Soho

There it is, nice and big, and dissipating like the ones who have lived

The world is there but than again who said we had to forgive?

The World Is Amazed By This Lie, Please Kill The Lights

Jeff Klepper

Let the dead sing while we enhance our life expectancy.

And gather courage through life’s own discrepancy.

Get the lie all covered in “why”; and enhance the throats mistrust.

We win the land and give in to demand, of potions and waning lust.

For than we can lead the dead to the gallows we dug so long before the promises.

And than we can expand the land to accommodate the extra guests in the prisons we built.

Don’t feel obligated to the men in the suits that promise you life beyond this cowardly interpretation.

For its is meager and filled with broken cause and spread out answers.

Here it is, enjoy the sink, because we are on the brink of destructions cusp.

And there will unite as one under the sun as the word of god and explode the façade.

For then there we will not need prayer and its disastrous being.

And for one moment we will believe for once, exactly what we are seeing.