Uneasy Thoughts

I Hate Work

The case of the tired bones,
The face of the hired bones.
I can not drink that acid they put in front of me.
Nor the crumbs on the table drenched in X-rays.
Continue to contaminate me with work,
Continue and my brain will expire.
Soon madness will come.
Gone I will be, gone absolutely insane.
For work is the problem, the nail in my foot.

Yet, I shall learn to deal with it.
With this rusted sliver.
Eat more of these glowing crumbs.
Drink more of that seething acid.
Work I hate, in ways no one will ever come to understand.

Arturo Hernandez 6-18-87

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The Ending of the Birdies Soon

Birds, one day, will sing about the sky no more; no not ever again.
Their frail little wings will burn and mama's eggs will die.
Chicklings will fry, their tiny birdie legs flaring up in flames.
The trees the birdies hide and seek within will die, distending branches dropping ash.
The birds will die, their wings will burst, their nest spewing smoldering plumes.

Arturo Hernandez 6-19-87

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The Warning


The little people came to me last night again.
Riding on top of their little hairy creatures they call Bibles.
I was having a splendid dream: running after butterflies, snatching them from the air, pulling their colored wings off, slipping them into my mouth.
"What now?" I asked the leader, the tiniest of the five, yawning at the alarm clock flashing 3 am. Brass is its name. A stenchy one this little person.
"We have come to warn you," Brass said, with a grimace on its wrinkled face. "Of the larger ones."
This was a first for me. The larger ones? What the hell was this miserable wretch ranting about? "The larger ones? Who are the larger ones?"
It was Milxzer, the strongest of the bunch, who spoke up next. "The Larger ones from the land of wasted dreams and broken truths. They will come soon."
I yawned and glared deeply into Milxzer's wasted expression. "And what am I supposed to do?"
"Run," was what Brass's brother, a slim and naked little person, advised, "as far as your lazy humanoid legs can carry you. And fast."
"I am not afraid of your little minded fears. What is this larger one?"
Brass turned towards the moon shinning through my open window and pointed at it with his bony finger. "Round and white, full of deadly delight, with razor sharp tongues."
"Ha ha," I guffawed at Brass. "Yeah, I am shivering now see." I shook my hand mockingly in front of his bulging eye and laughed some more.
The little people left quickly, with echoes of my laughter ringing in their pint size ears.

I fell asleep quickly afterwards, dreaming again of my butterflies. Tasting their sweet wings on my bloody tongue. And as I drew one more upon my tongue the heavens above me suddenly opened and there before my eyes was what my little friends had foretold: round as the moon, full of deadly delight, with razor sharp tongues whipping out at me, eventually shredding me to pieces, fragments of me falling to the ground in thuds.

I woke, sweat pouring from my eyes and armpits, jumped out of bed, slid into my slippers, careful not to step on the shit left behind by the little people's bibles, packed my bags, said goodbye to Maggie (my wife) and hauled my self out of St. Augustone, never to return.

Arturo Hernandez 1-12-2000

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Something to Say

Into nothing, reaching for something,
Living a lie, till the day we all die.
Coming around the dark side, trying not to slide.

Underwater fish swim, from pool to pool, eating, laying eggs, from lake to lake to sea.

Someday in the light we will see so many new objects, hidden from our imagination; they will seep into cracks open by waves of brain quakes. Soon someday, I say.

But for now, presently, time is here to stay: we must pray. Play. And pay our bills.

Arturo Hernandez 8-3-1989

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Bitter Sidewalk

My soul a shattered work on display splayed over the ground; I'm glistening broken glass, mean and spitefully.
I'm trampled and trodden upon by them, the indifferent ones.
I stick them with my sharp peaks and piercing edges, slashing and goring: I laugh to see their feet fester so. Their blood flowing over me like a cool summer breeze on a scorching summer afternoon.
My revenge is bitter.
They need to rest, rubbing their inflicted feet, as they all complain and mutter.
Their pain candy to my long hard, dry tongue, like raptures clogging my stonewall heart.
Little children looking up at their parents wonder why they moan and complain. The little ones see me smile, and shiver in response.
They dance and sing and sing horridly, hideous sounds in the heat all around.
Some sweat out salty liquids that fall on me, mindless and selfish in their acts, so pleased to see me crushed perhaps.
The blame is not on them only, but on the devil above my head too, the bright yellow demon I have named Killjoy.
Still, day on, night on, they struggle above me.
One sick one spits on me, one old one urinates on me.
I have sought my revenge on them now and again: a stumble to the ground inviting a broken head; a fatal slide on the ice that sometimes blankets me. Oh how I have shattered my share of the indifferent ones.
Yet, still, I must truly confess, I hate them all with all my best.

Arturo Hernandez 11-1-1991

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Refreshing

Refreshing, underneath the waves, the warmth above my head,
Refreshing is this. Refreshing I am dead.
Dangling in a mouth of a very large killer whale,
This must be heaven? or must this be hell?

I remember refreshing thoughts of me and you,
When the clouds were white and the sky a clear blue,
And you showed the stillness of the water
And I dove into it quickly,
To find your pet there smiling happily
And you on the sand not holding back laughter,
As it sank into both my legs first,
into my heart then,
And you smiled to watch my heart burst,
And to watch my back bend.
I cried joyously, I yelped for you to join,
But you backed away and pointed to my groin,
A geyser of crimson spurting up into the air,
Oh lord what a feeling so refreshing so comforting to know that you care.
And so now I dangle in between jagged teeth,
Remembering our time together that day on the beach.

Art Hernandez 1-17-2000

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I've come to save the day!

From out of the darkness, do you all see,
The evil monster rising from the green sea?

Its long shiny horns stabbing the sky,
Drawing blood from the yellow sun's eye.

Do not fear, I am here, call me strong.
My courage is infallible; my fearless streak is long!

Let no creature from above, below and beyond,
Strike into us fear for I am strong!

Watch him fly away the evil monster,
His trail leaving yellow luster.

I am here to save the day
So try not to be afraid.

Art Hernandez 3-14-1989

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KILL OR BE DEVOURED

Kill or be devoured, fast on blood rolling over filthy roads. (lap, lap, lap it up)
Destruction's finger tips drifting through the sky like deadly spears.

[Flee! Run far away towards the land that becomes my land and the land that becomes your land and beyond the land that becomes our land, and together, you and I, will run..run into our sun; run into our sea; run into our lives; run into our minds.]

Kill this one now, then that one, let them not escape. We'll Run sharp finger tips through their puny mindless dreams. Kill them We will. Kill them now.

[Fly away to the land that becomes all peace. Fly away to the land that becomes all love. Become apart, drifting apart, from the haters in our hearts. Come and be with I. Come you and I, come together in our eyes. Into my life I become as you.]

Up you mocking bird, up you sun, up you hole head with the rubber bullet gun! Stay from my heart. Keep you away. Away from me as for as can be! up you all and, who ups them, up you...up you...up you all!!!

[Fly away quickly. run from the sun. Fly away quickly. Fly.]

Arturo Hernandez 7/22/94

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THROUGH THE DARK, UNDERWATER TUNNELS OF MY MIND

Through the dark, and underwater, through the large caves underwater, through the strip of air bubbles rising to meet the moonlight above, through the den of large killer whales, through the smelly dead smell of dead bloated fish and mammals, through the darkest of tunnels, through the mindless eyes and rattlesnake smiles, through the alga infected membrane hanging loosely from a rising log, through the tunnels that run deep with seawater and drowning my mind.

What have you seen, deep down below the surface, below the moonlight, sinking are the bathers on the water rafts. What do they see as they sink deeper to meet me. Will they be scared to death, lost in great thought, begging to be sold to the highest bidder, to be sold to the youngest tripper? I have not the slightest idea.

The tunnels run way so deep, into dark overpowering pounds of water crushing human ears. But I see in my mind that they can cast you aside to the other ugly looking bastards rising to the occasion. Through my mind tunnels, deep, dark and restless, void of happiness and desire, void of any meaning at all. The tunnels of emptiness gone mad.

But nonetheless my mind.

Arturo Hernandez 8-12-1994

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