THE WHEELS OF HATE by I. Goldkind (illustration by Mario Torero, muralist, teacher, poet)

- The Wheels of Hate
- The Wheels of the Bus go round and round, round and round, round and round
- The Wheels of the Bus go round and round, all day long.
- The Wheels of Hate go round and round, round and round, round and round
- The Wheels of Hate go round and round all day long.
- The Wheels of Hate put niggers in the back of the bus, niggers in back of the bus,
- Niggers in back of the bus!
- The Wheels of Hate put the niggers in the back of the bus
- Until we said: No Fucking More!
- The Wheels of Hate go round and round, round and round, round and round
- The Wheels of Hate go round and round all fucking day.
- The wheels of the hate touched up the woman, touched up your woman, touched up our women
- The Wheels of Hate touched up all women until they said: NO MORE, YOU DICKS!
- The Wheels of Hate exploited the Latino, exploited the Latino, exploited the Latino
- The Wheels of Hate exploited the Latino until we made the union strong.
- The Wheels of Hate burnt all the Jews, burnt all the Jews, burnt all the Jews
- The Wheels of Hate burnt all the Jews and now burn the skins of the schoolchildren of Gaza.
- Those same Wheels. . .
- Ohhh, the Wheels of Hate dug all the Killing Fields, dug the Killing Fields, dug the Killing Fields
- The Wheels of Hate dug the Killing Fields until there was nobody left to kill.
- The Wheels of Hate beat the Muslim woman, beat the Muslim woman, beat the Muslim woman
- The Wheels of Hate beat the Muslim woman because she covered her face.
- Yes, the Wheels of Hate took me for a fool, took me for a fool, took me for a fool.
- The Wheels of Hate took me for a fool until I said:
- Enough is Enough!
- The Wheels of Hate make us all hate each other, all hate each other, all hate each other.
- The Wheels of Hate make us all suspect each other because this way we are easier to rule.
- The Wheels of Hate go round and round, round and round, round and round.
- The Wheels of Hate go round and round until we make them . . .
- STOP!
Sedition of the Innocent

What was said was dead before it was spoken.
These are the laments of the old and the pale
But these here, are the moments eternity has flung at us.
We must not waste time…
we must not waste time…
we must not waste time…
Those are the echoes of ancient voices waiting to be quelled,
that call to us from the farthest shore.
They say: “Hey Buddy,
Keep on swimming, keep on dreaming your better self.
Keep your head well above the water,
and remember… to breathe”.
thanks to wendyfarrow.com….for reminding me….to breathe.
THE DARK CLOUD by Igor Goldkind; Image of The Dark Cloud by Bill Sienkiewicz (for the Cover of IS SHE AVAILABLE?)

Because of course I like this, the best thing I’ve written to date.
The Poesie of Igor Goldkind – Reciting Truth to Power
am
the
Darkness.
I
am
the
Darkness.
I
am
Oblivion.
I
am
the
of
Meaning,
Which
is
Nothing!
I
am
contempt
incarnate
I
am
the
self-loathing,
the
wriggling,
The
squirming
of
your
soul
I
am
the
reason
you
are
suffering
Because
enjoy
the
show.
I
am
the
Darkness.
I
am
the
Darkness.
I
am
Oblivion.
I
am
the
Meaning
of
Meaning,
Which
is
Nothing!
I
am
the
dropped
eyes
and
fallen
smile
of
your
mother
When
she
realizes
what
a
little,
masturbating
shit
you
really
I
am
sickness.
I
am
despair.
I
am
the
hope
you
hide
behind,
Strangled in thin air.
I
am
the
Darkness.
I am
the Darkness.
I am
Oblivion.
I am
the Meaning
of
Meaning,
Which is
Nothing!
You
are
the
particle,
I
am
the physics
You think
you matter?
I Am the Matter,
Dark Matter!
I
am
View original post 258 more words
IS SHE AVAILABLE..? by Igor Goldkind A Collection of Poetry, Art, Music and Motion in eBook, Hardcover and CD Spoken Word Editions COMING FOR THIS XMAS!!!

THIS IS THE HOLDING PAGE FOR THE OFFICIAL IS-SHE-AVAILABLE.COM WEB-HUB LAUNCHING DECEMBER 6, 2014
On this page you will be able to order the book directly in time for Xmas; Download the eBook; pre-order the Wall Print Portfolio and the Music CD IS SHE?
BOOK MARK THIS PAGE AND GET SPECIAL DISCOUNTS FOR BLOG-FOLLOWERS AND FACEBOOK FANS
CHECK OUT SAMPLE FROM THE EBOOK AT MADEFIRE.COM HERE
THIS IS THE COVER ILLUSTRATION FOR THE BOOK AND THE POEM THE DARK CLOUD
am
the
Darkness.
I
am
the
Darkness.
I
am
Oblivion.
I
am
the
of
Meaning,
Which
is
Nothing!
I
am
contempt
incarnate
I
am
the
self-loathing,
the
wriggling,
The
squirming
of
your
soul
I
am
the
reason
you
are
suffering
Because
enjoy
the
show.
I
am
the
Darkness.
I
am
the
Darkness.
I
am
Oblivion.
I
am
the
Meaning
of
Meaning,
Which
is
Nothing!
I
am
the
dropped
eyes
and
fallen
smile
of
your
mother
When
she
realizes
what
a
little,
masturbating
shit
you
really
I
am
sickness.
I
am
despair.
I
am
the
hope
you
hide
behind,
Strangled in thin air.
I am
the
Darkness.
I am
the Darkness.
I am
Oblivion.
I am
the Meaning
of
Meaning,
Which is
Nothing!
You
are
the
particle,
I
am
the physics
You think
you matter?
I Am the Matter,
Dark Matter!
I
am
where
all
energy
goes.
Entropy is my mistress
and
I fuck her every day!
I
am
Where
you
come
from
Where
everything
comes
from…
I am what comes to you all.
I
am
where
you
go
when
you
don’t
really
know,
When
you
can’t
recall
Who you are anymore.
I am the Darkness.
I am the Darkness.
I am Oblivion.
I am the Meaning of meaning,
Which is Nothing!
Stop
talking
now.
Stop
thinking
now.
Stop loving and living and dying.
Come with me now.
Come with me now.
Come with me now.
There’s
no
denying
what
you
already
know,
What you’ve known all along.
I am the Darkness.
I am the Darkness.
I am Oblivion.
I am the Meaning of Meaning,
Which is Nothing!
There’s
no
You.
There never was.
It was always
Me.
lights that
I own.
You are nothing,
You are the
Nothing
You are me
You belong to
ME.
Now come quietly now,
Come take my hand, now.
Out of the darkness,
Out of the darkness,
Out of the darkness,
Out of the darkness,
Where you belonged.
Out of oblivion,
Out of the Meaning of Meaning,
Out of the darkness,
into your Light
Sedition of the Innocent
What was said was dead before it was spoken.
These are the laments of the old and the pale
These here, are the moments eternity has flung at us.
We must not waste time…
we must not waste time…
we must not waste time…
These are the echoes of ancient voices waiting to be quelled,
that call to us from the farthest shore.
They say: “Hey You Bud!
Keep swimming, keep dreaming your better self.
Keep your head above the water!”
(and then, you remember, to breathe).
Igor Goldkind © October 13th, 2014
FLASH BACK ’78

Basking in the Broken Down Casino of Americana the grated dead reside in.
Reading the Bones of old contentions…looking up at primary school-lights; the ones that never change…looking down at the floor tiles; an endless sea of wrinkled faces….too many people to breathe in…
where’s the Exit Jean mentioned?…
Sound…check…test…test1…test2…test3…
Now!
Go You Sun of a Gun!
Locomotive train thunders through your head…groping… stumbling…tripping forwards into that warm glowing rush of the great unknown. There’s a tunnel!… there’s a tunnel…there’s a tunnel up ahead. We’re goin’in…we’re goin’in…we’re goin’in.…watch your head!
Watch: Your Head.
Gone! Washed away under the Lowest Bridge:
The consummation of illusion onto the lockjaw of your reality.
Still falling forwards…forwards with time…moving…with no body…no mass…no mind…beating…truckin’…making that Bend-On-the-Road…past the Dooh-Dah man….Right turn….left turn…back turn…back-where-you-started-from turn…It’s happening man…all around you…all the time…with you…without you…no-you..no- more…no-you-no-more….KNOW-MORE-YOU!..Don’t look left…don’t look right…don’t get scared…
Dawn follows the Night…head straight into the Light… up ahead…right where you came from…another train comin’ down your track…Head On Tight!
One More Stop….
Farther Down the Road.
Just keep on truckin’… don’t fall ahead and do not fail…one…two…onetwo…want-to… want-to …onetwothree..….chugga-chugga-chugga-chew-chew…One-Two Three….chugga-chugga-chugga-chew-chew
One-Two-Three….
One-Two-Three….chew-chew:
you’re dead.
For shaky kane, you better watch your head…
SHE’S COMING . . . HE’S WAITING . . .

IS SHE AVAILABLE?…………………………………………………………………………………Even the Truth is For Sale
HE’S WAITING . . .
The New Debut Collection of Poetry, Illustration, Music and Animation
by Igor Goldkind and 20 other Artists
COMING THIS XMAS TO AN AMAZON TAB NEAR YOU
This Christmas Make Your Gift Poetry.
NOTHING TO DO

We are living in a culture entirely hypnotized by the illusion of time, in which the so-called present moment is felt as nothing but an infinitesimal hairline between an all-powerfully causative past and an absorbingly important future.
We have no present.
Our consciousness is almost completely preoccupied with memory and expectation.
~ Alan Watts
LIAM SHARP: MAN, GOD or GOAT?
I first met Liam Sharp in the editorial offices of 2000AD when he was a young jobbing artist. He had hair back then. He also had a journeyman’s attitude that stood out and distinguished him from the parade of amateur portfolio-ed artists who regularly hung out in the 3 floor reception of Greater London House, in the Camden of early 1990’s North London, where comics were being published.
(We all worked in the neighborhood that Amy Winehouse grew up, sang and died in.)
Liam made his debut in the late 1980s drawing Judge Dredd for 2000AD, where I was working as the marketing manager in order to promote 2000AD and launch 3 new comics titles onto the newsstand market. These were the days that a comic like 2000 AD sold 100,000 copies A WEEK. (80% newsstand sales!) I met many of the young guns at the time like Liam who later, established a deservedly high reputation in US comics. At the time, I had the fortunate vantage point of being a “suit” that actually valued the artistry and narrative of the work being produced for a mass-market audience.
When Liam came to Greater London House, both Richard Burton, the then editor of 200AD and Alan Mackenzie, his deputy would meet him at reception, usher him in and introduce Liam to others and myself. This was, I observed at the time, special treatment I only saw on display for Grant Morrison on his frequent visits and Alan Moore on his less frequent ones. So I knew that editorially, Liam was a VIP and it was when Richard gloated to me about Liam’s apprenticeship with the British comics industry version of Jack Kirby: Don Lawrence that immediately drew my attention to Liam.
When I met and had a pint with him, (an essential communications tool in Britain: the pint), I discovered a young, working class man with a gift for art who had won both placement and scholarship in a reputable middle class school; and who had then chosen to askew an equally merited University placement in order to work instead, as an apprentice to Don Lawrence.
Don Lawrence was admittedly considered the finest British comics artist of the time, but still! This was not so much radically different as radically traditional. Liam chose his own path as a student and as an artist. Regardless, one thing was crystal clear to me: Liam Sharp had balls.
Liam later moved to Marvel UK, where he drew the best-selling Marvel UK title ever, Death’s Head II. Liam then was at the crest of the wave of British artists and writers invading the offices and comic book shelves of the US comics industry with books as diverse as the X-Men, the Hulk, Spider-Man, Venom, Man-Thing (for Marvel Comics), Superman, Batman, and The Possessed (for DC Comics and Wildstorm), Spawn: The Dark Ages (for Todd McFarlane and Image) and Red Sonja for Dynamite comics.
The pre-comics-fame Liam I met was a young, muscular Northerner from Derbyshire with a broader-voweled accent than his southern, countrymen. Liam and his ilk (English people from anywhere north of Birmingham; or as we used to call, the rest of the country) had a different style, a different way about them. More plain spoken, self-modest and more eager to share a laugh, than their southern counterparts, the Northern British seemed to have crossed a border from another country, sitting in the reception area of Greater London House on Euston Road.
It was a different time:
Alan Moore was still talking to people; Neil Gaiman was in perpetual leather-jacketed, Lou Reed mode, Grant Morrison was shy and Warren Ellis actually seemed scary to me. And everybody seemed to be on the same side: you were either publishing comics or you were writing or drawing (or both) comics.
Hard to describe to comics fans these days. Comics writing, drawing, publishing, selling, collecting has always been about
money. But in London, because of it’s New York-density, spread out over the land area of an LA; everything wound up affecting everything else. Comics did become the new rock and roll. Comics’ design and styles infiltrated the print media. Comics characters costumes, the street fashion scene, comics stories (Halo Jones, Watchmen, Judge Dredd) were injecting the music scene and this was 10 year before the comic book movies.
I first met Liam in the wake of what seemed, to all of us at the time, a unique cultural explosion. Comics had infiltrated every corner of popular fashion. Just as in the 60’s, London record companies were overwhelmed by young English songwriters and bands; the office of British comics companies in the at least the first long train journeys from Newcastle, Glasgow, Birmingham and of course Derby hoping for a commission. It was in the middle of this flurry of excitement, 3 new weekly and monthly comics being launched and work was on offer. It was the comics equivalent of a gold rush. The impact was also felt in the aesthetic migration of artists from all media to the sequential, to the narrative textures of images.
Painters like Simon Bisley and mixed media artists such as Dave McKean were pushing the envelope on what was considered acceptable art for comics. I remember pages of artwork that were so densely painted or mixed up with objects that the printer could literally not bend the page around the drum needed to shoot the film. Layers of film had to be shot to turn these new, thickly, painted canvasses into comics pages. Experiments were being tried and barriers were being broken.
But 20 odd years later, Liam is still a working artist. More importantly, he has mutated into that essential modern mold, that survivalist camouflage, of entrepreneur. The smart businessman/artist/producer, all artists working in the popular arts, (not just comics), need to be in order to earn a living with their craft.
Liam Sharp is again at the crest of a new wave of artists who understand the entire cycle of creation, production and dissemination of a creative product to a market.
With the founding of Madefire.com in Berkeley, California, in 2011, Liam took his Northern English, working class creative drive to the edge of the medium again. Motion books are moving narratives, in both senses of the term and Liam continues to further his artistry both visually as an artist and producer, but also as a writer in his current ground-breaking Motion Book for Madefire.com “Captain Stone is Missing” written with his wife Christina McCormack.
Liam’s critically acclaimed first novel GOD KILLERS: MACHIVARIUS POINT & OTHER TALES was published in 2008 with a second edition in 2009.
Liam Aliens graphic novella Aliens: Fast Track to Heaven for Dark Horse, which he both wrote and illustrated, has been critically acclaimed.
Liam Sharp is not just a successful artist, producer and now publisher, he uses his expertise and now sizeable experience to not just accumulate money (and rare bourbons), but to generate new work, to create value that engages; which is after all, the duty of an artist, is it not?
If it is an artist’s duty to advance the medium they craft in, then Ladies and Gentleman I present Liam with my imaginary, CGI Medal of Valor beyond the call of duty in the field of creative endeavor.
“For Chrissakes, Liam! Keep your helmet on; that’s live ammo they’re using out there!”