KRIS KRAMSKI
Here are some poems that I wrote over the years. Some were used in my film "Klimax" or in the screen tests for "Gate Crash Heaven". A few others were tailored into and became songs. The rest is unpublished.
* Prostitute of the Arts
* Pornographer of Distinction
* Free Form
* Wild Life
* Someone to Love
* Modern Times
* Her
* Pickaboo
* Along the Years
* Dry Clean my Mind
* Home Town Girl
* Pussy Cat
* Not Important
* Jo the Plumber
PROSTITUTE OF THE ARTS
I'm a prostitute of the Arts
I play with the corner band for a dime
I sell my soul to the tune
And play the silver notes of loot.
Cool headed friend
Give me redemption
When the time for judgment arises
And I am free from the delusion of flesh
I'll soar in the open in a swirl
No damaged faith
I beg the Lord and its honorable constables
To grant me relief from the sin
And clear my way in this lamentable instant
I enter a plea for my eyes
To be purified before the light
And a motion to rest in peace
Before the rest of them.
Let me dedicate my existence
To the execution of skill and beauty
Thus nothing can erase my soul,
I shall metamorphose now
And enter the world of crystal single harmonics
God, lead us all to the resolution of concern,
Through the light,
And into the liquid sky
PORNOGRAPHER OF DISTINCTION
I'm a pornographer of distinction
I'm a fine-art filmmaker of pink mucus.
I am a supplier and provider of young flesh
And blessed virgins for action.
No need for your Thailand vacation
Call my office on Sunday
I have young girls too, the Bangkok way
Right here, in Van Nuys.
I shall disseminate my wisdom
Over the channels of molecular intercourse
Sperm in blood, running through arteries
Mark male supremacy
I'm the orgies organizer.
Decaying trust and putrid waste
Will be disguised with amber
For the welfare of sodomites.
Interracial ! Hardcore for all !
Let the energy of life and reproduction
Cycle over again
For my benefits and wealth.
I promote hygiene and provide a service to society
I make no distinction between the poor and the rich:
I supply to all. Good, and bad eggs.
For all the over 18 talent that faked (but still swallowed)
For all the studs that kept it up under the sun and delivered on time,
And finally... for all the fans who faithfully followed and renewed their subscription,
Today, I pledge, for the religious freedom of sex
FREE FORM
I'm an accomplished moth
The world is upside down tonight
Do I love you... or do I love with the image that I created of you?
Have I constructed you?
Are you existing through my eyes,
Or just the reflection of my thoughts?
I have arrived here one hundred years ago and still haven't achieved a thing.
I am going right through the floorboard
Hitting the dusty ground below the house
(the crawl space)
My friends are dead on earth and buried on a dry land.
It's an arid planet; I'm a sun freak.
Do I believe, or do I see my faith?
Have I lost track again? Am I the Lord?
What will you give me?
An upside down smile?
A love stream from your eyes?
A laser beam for young men directed to my genitals?
Are you the substitute of my own existence,
Or just the mirror of my soul?
I am not a Nazi.
I love your velvet layers and your bay.
My love slaps upon your rocks.
I seek a piece of mind that I can put aside, for latter days.
WILD LIFE
Ambidextrous transvestite
Working on two poles
Pumpin' dynamite
Through the hole
I live round the corner
From the junk
Ain't crossed no border
I'm a punk
Piss on me sister
Flush it all on me
I will float in the gutter
Till I reach the sea
Wild life, will you make me see?
SOMEONE TO LOVE
I'm a punk on earth
You're an aristocrat
Top Cat
Victim of the Universe
Don't go to school today
Don't mingle: When you're done,
How do you feel, in a uniform?
How do you feel when the sun comes down?
How do you feel when you're pushed around?
Wish you had someone to love...
MODERN TIMES
In modern times
We've got our ways
To get away
Night has come
And covered us
With its purple lid
We're the dawn generation
We're the people of rejection
The world is a big, round, empty stratosphere
And I feel so lonely
Please give me more than what I had so far;
And let me give it back to others in need.
HER
She calls in
And she smiles
She pops a tablet in a bag
And heartbeats on my side
She is lean
When she walks
She looks good
She's got ambition and she talks
PICKABOO
It's been a long, long winter
With no laughter, no blooming flowers
And I stayed home with the curtains closed
In the basement
Watchin' video tapes in the TV room
Now summer's back
The sun is high in the sky
And all the little girls go out
To play in the park
Oh bubble gum kid, running around the green grass
Where is your mum and dad?
Oh little girl you bring me back to life
Are you old enough, or just another wasted child?
Come over babe?
Play Pickaboo with me?
Blow bubbles in my face?
Gotta water bed in my room
A lollipop in the shop
A candy bar in the car
Life is too short for a Mickey Mouse connection
ALONG THE YEARS
Medals - Stallions - Hustlers
Prostitutes in bars
Priest in choir
Preachers of hope
Polished sermons and redundant politics
Needless empires
Roads leading to Rome
For the hobo who will never get there
Shoeless Jo
Poets in prisons
Moths, myths and Masons
Along the years
Hold on tight
Rock'n Roll
My friend was murdered in Kilburn;
I fell in love on Adelaide Road.
Hey, mama! You would faint if you knew all the things I've done !
DRY CLEAN MY MIND
Layers of years stick to my skin
A need a clean, a sandblast, a new shine
When you take off your dress
And pile up your clothes
When you unload the stack to the cleaners
Take a little piece of my soul too...
and dry clean my mind.
When you vacuum your room
Wall to wall
When you tackle a stain, blast
And suck in snow through the corrugated nozzle
Spray a little more down my throat
and dry clean my mind.
When you drain the foul mixture
Of your stainless steel toilet dump
& Flush it out with holly water...
Pour a little more in my eyes bowl; dilute my tears
And dry clean my mind
HOME TOWN GIRL
When I will have
Lots of money
Many girls will come to me
And give themselves fully .
I will say: "Thank you for your lovin',
but I would rather keep the girl from my home town
the girl who cares,
who loves me for who I am.
She' s the one that counts
The one I'll remember"
"She fed me when I was hungry
She sheltered me when I was down and out
She smiled when I was down
And, in the winter time, made a fire to keep me warm.
She's the girl who kissed me and swallowed my tears
When nobody cared."
When I am rich and famous
Many new friends will come to me
And offer their affection
I will say: "Thank you brother,
Thank you for thy devotion;
But where were you when I needed a friend?
Now I am swell, can't you see?
I'd rather stay alone, my man
Alone at home, with my home town girl;
The girl who loves me for what I am,
The one who listens
The only one who counts
The one I'll remember"
PUSSY CAT
Pussy cat, little friend
Sulkin' in a jar
Honeymoon in a car
Take a cup & a dip
Breast feed me
Till I slip like a newborn child
Closing time
On Christmas eve
Too much Champagne
For your virgin's belly
Don't throw up in the van
Wait for the next pit stop
NOT IMPORTANT
The make of your car
The name of your street
The sign of your star
Your vegetarian fit
The money you make
The people you know
The accent you fake
The places you go
The colors you wear
The tan of your skin
The trim of your hair
Your next of kin
The place you were born
The height of your hills
The way you walk
How you talk
The length of your nails
The blush on your face
Your perfume from Paris
Your jacket from London
The magazines you read
The language you speak
Your first and last name
Your miles on the clock
The lies you said
The chances you missed
The letters you never wrote
The morning you've cried
The battles you've lost
When you failed
And all the rest...
That's not important
Cause all that count for me
Is the love you give me
All I see, is your love to me.
JO THE PLUMBER
I work in Cranmere Court, Sloan Avenue
Hey, fellow! You ol' conservative English fart,
Stuck in your upper class frame of mind
With your golden trim and plush upholstery
Victorian blinds and fake antiques
For the security guard by the door
Shelters you from the elderly
Mockery of grandeur
Narrow vision
Sweet and Sour in your head
Looking down at me from your TV tower
You live in the decent block
Far from the paupers and destitute
You hoard, stock and never spend
Banal conversation in the hall
Well rehearsed pitch
The porter wears a uniform
And that makes you feel good
Prison head
Horizon well kept within the boundaries of decency
