Aug 30, 2012
He would not give us his name. He told us he left home to not be a burden on his family because he had no health insurance. He said he would just live on the street until he died, and that way his children would remember him the way he was when he left them. Before we walked away, he said, "You know why I don't care? I am dying of cancer, and I am not afraid. I lost everything, but you can't take it with you right? Who would want to anyway? It would just weigh you down." The systems of governance and community we create must hold many elements of life in constant consideration, the highest of which is freedom of the individual to live the life they choose in safety. Of course these considerations go beyond more than mere individualism, because the individual cannot exist outside of the ma...
Aug 5, 2012
I cannot know your hidden soul nor your slice of future time I see you, but for a moment, as you change before me Could I but reach that second, where you once were To know your unique truth, but alas you are gone. And so I chase after you and grasp at empty air Where you once stood I catch the shadow of your last step I will never catch you darling but will catch only a glimpse -- from time to time -- I am the past looking at you, and your eyes are to the future. When you look back, I see you, but you are a mystery to me I am a mystery to you too, a father, but a man you will hardly know Until one strange day when you look back, and see me-- as I see you now.
Jun 21, 2012
Let us shout, weep and sing, for every dark and bright thing. Let us joy in the breath, for the minutes we have left. Such is life for the muse within, the dearth of art the cardinal sin. And so I scribble, wail and boom, my art my mark upon my tomb.
May 22, 2012
When people are treated like a product, they become obsessed with materialism. Modern capitalist consumer-life commoditizes people and “educates” them to become human products. A culture that raises and grooms people to be human resource products in a marketplace cultivates non-individuals who experience life through materialism. When people are treated as creators versus products, materialism diminishes. This is because the way people see themselves changes. We see the world as we are, and also as we are treated and seen by others, and by our environmental situation. With rare exceptions, the people who work in corporations, like those working on assembly-lines, are not producers—they are products. This is a distinction that is often overlooked. Human products see the world as a grand car...
Apr 27, 2012
The homeless, street gangs, “thugs” and other mostly powerless people with legitimate anger concerning poverty and class, are commonly media and police targeted, and portrayed as dangerous, menacing undesirables. Young revolutionaries, students, activists and protesters are similarly portrayed as misanthropic juveniles and lazy ne’er-do-wells vandalizing public spaces. But too little attention is given to truly dangerous and powerful political and corporate thugs who loot, vandalize and burn communities to the ground every day, with the mighty stroke of a pen. The boardroom is the ultimate war-room, where history’s most destructive acts of violence and aggression against human dignity, safety and justice have been strategically orchestrated. Acts of economic war and violence in the deepes...
Apr 20, 2012
"Sometimes they spit on me. I don't know why. I am so down low right now, you know what I mean brother? Why people got to be that way? Who spits on somebody like that?" True progress for humanity is anything that takes us closer to supporting one another. Small acts of kindness between you and the individuals around you are the germination that springs into being, something as mysterious as life itself, and what may in fact be humanities greatest accomplishment — compassion for others. Let us all strive to cultivate a deeper and more meaningful desire to ease the burdens of others. Every person is a precious gift, and we are all like little children who yearn for acceptance, safety, and unconditional love. Let us all reach out with a hope that we could each bring some degree of happin...
Feb 18, 2012
Swallowing up the corpses An appetite of doom Many a meaty courses Made my gut a tomb I devoured moms and babies My hunger near a rage Down to Davy's Locker The bars of my ribcage My swollen putrid innards Filled with fish and foul And beastly guts and gizzards That rot within my bowls Grinning over my plate With a leg bone in my hand Like a grim reaper of fate To the creatures of the land Maybe there is a paradise For those creatures of misery Whose terrified pair-of-eyes Hauntingly, live-on in me
Feb 16, 2012
I looked under every rock. I looked in every flower. I looked between the seconds. I looked in every hour. I looked in every shadow. I looked at every Star. I looked in every meadow, At things that were, and are. I found every darkness, I found every glory. I found every choice, In every single story. I found I AM the difference, My thoughts are free to be. I found it isn’t what it seems-- I found, it’s only me.
Oct 11, 2011
I am not this man you see I am not even me I am not my traditions I am self seditious I am not my countrymen And I am not my kin I am something deeper Something far within I am beyond definition I know I am not a man I am the reaching soul of life The grasp beyond the hand I am ever changing I am every thing I am every simple hope I am every dream I am not this man you see I am not even me I am something wondrous And so I’ll simply be...
Sep 13, 2011
chemical days and nights prefab’s in the suburbs chemical vinyl siding over chemical walls glued little bits of trees chemical paint and carpet microwaved food and preservatives hormones and antibiotics dishwasher detergent residues chlorine, floride and shampoo artificial colors and smells ocean breeze air freshener a deep chemical breath lovers with chemistry chemical colored and cleaned sheets chemical perfume and romance chemical erection pills chemical birth control chemical lubricants and sex chemical vaccines for HPV chemical days and nights chemical living; a chemical life slow chemical reactions chemical consequences chemical chemo therapy chemical death and chemical embalming
Jul 12, 2010
I want to rip the roofs off of all the buildings So you can look up and see the sun shinning And then knock down the remaining walls To create an endless garden, we all call home I want to lift my cup to catch the rainwater And drink from blue skies, with no rusty drains I want to bury my shoes, and hold a service, Where my feet meet the Earth, that received the corpses I want to pluck fruit to eat from the trees, As I consider them my friends, and their shade a gift I want a little dirt on my imperfect vegetables As I forget the cold institutions of death, called stores I want to hear the birds, wind, ocean and children's laughter Prevail over strange noises of TV, cars and synthesized music I want everyone to quit their jobs and throwaway all the money And give everyone a new occ...
Dec 5, 2005
Who creates the ghettos? Who creates the farms? They that plow the meadows They that worship arms Swords into plowshares Let the steel transcend, The act begins by caring It’s the heart that bends
Apr 4, 2004
What shall be known of the days we’ve wasted The friends we’ve loved and those we’ve hated What will become of the laughter last Or those once known in lives long past What shall we do with the time we’ve wasted Or the gentle lips like wine once tasted What of our children alone when we die Or our bodies like fallen leaves that lie What will come of the mornings and the days Who will remember our purpose and ways What of our memories and what of the pain Who will know them as us the same It is you— that will live them one more time And you will taste those lips of wine You too will know the joys I knew, And sorrows’ longing, for life anew See More Poetry and Photography in Bryant's Book:Collected Works of Poetry, Photography and Art
Jun 15, 2003
When Gregory was 20 his father died, leaving his enormous wealth and estate to his mother. Gregory had mental illness, and was a burden to his mother, who he believed was always ashamed of him. After his father's death, Gregory was sent to the street, penniless, and without any support or safety-net, where he lived out the rest of his life. I took this picture of him in 2003, and wrote and dedicated this poem to his life, in June of 2012. It writhes, and tides and turns the guilt-man burning burns he sits out in the sun baking cracks into muddy truth Can I simply be a human? is there room left in your world or do I disappear when you walk by, like my stink that swirls and fades Your nose and heart closed i am repugnant to you-- superficial cunt, perfumed and adorned, but ne...