Author Archives: Damian Garside

CLASSIC

CLASSIC

want to see
the water
cascading
   down you

in my
scruffy little
shower find
you
    gone full
Botticelli

Venus
  newly born

and our love,
which you proclaim Platonic
shadow-shown
        on the wall of

my mouldy bathroom

though would rather that it
were enacted
           comically, tragically

in the cosy comfort
of our cave

GAVE

GAVE

I gave
blood

gave
money

gave
humanity

gave poetry
inspired by
a drink
made from
agave

gave gave gave
but you took
you pocketed
swallowed everything

finished the lot
shot
   through my resources

like a machine that eats
you up totally

run
   by artificial intelligence
they usher you
into your
world of debt

sweet electronic swindlers
connecting you instantly

to your
dream of wealth and capital

each replacing a host of humans
once the
     social face
of every bank.

COTTON CANDY

COTTON CANDY

you must
fight and die
for cotton candy

fight and die
for a thin processed
meat sausage
jammed
   into role

you must
fight and die
to appease, suppress
our archetypal
shadow

for aeons old
collective guilt
            you no longer feel

must give your life
throw it away for nothing really
for your right
       to keep God for yourself
address him
   in your language by the very
name you gave him

translated from a foreign,
ancient text
you do not own
           and can no
                      longer read

but above all, hero,
                         it’s
for
    cotton candy
                         
                 

MARS

MARS

Ah, Mars
you red-eyed god
of grain
    and guns

here on the farm I smell
your secret cordite,
perpetual war
    concord, discord
forever
   in battle

circle of being, conflict
of life

    the trees, the corn
all
   akin to spears

as they stand in phalynx
tall and proud

except

      that is not it
at all

this is the shape of thinking,
seeing that you bring

reducing to raw red, rampant
green, crude
primary
       colours and basic shades

as if it were all one
monochrome chess
                           games

with its millions of moves
and permutations

light and dark on
       opposite sides of the board

split from each other
                drawn up in opposition
files and ranks

a most
    feudal arrangement

WING

WING

Oh my little
chaos butterfly

soft as a poem
you flap
your wings

but no storm
no hurricane
                 agitated to fury
other
side of
the globe
by the breath
of this
wind

just
megaton upon
megaton

falling to
          Earth

spawned
    of this gossamer

first strike that will leave
in its wake

no speck
      of life

not a tiny
     living thing.





PECULIAR

PECULIAR

I am human being
a peculiar species of alien

my value
    as creature, as individual
varies

between tuppence for
basic bagful of
chemical contituents
and millions for
anyone unlawfully
injuring
     or slandering me

and here I am
steeped in the species wisdom
of a few
    thousand years

willing to share
       before you summon
the strength

to
sweep my off
     your doorstep,
                     stick me
in a
hold with cargo
  
on the backseat
of a plane

thanking me for my visit
that I

peculiar as it all
                   now sounds

do
            not return again.

SCORPIUS

SCORPIUS

Last time I saw you
it was middle of November
just after your birthday

you were with someone
who looked alien
on the dark
side of the Moon

Scorpius was at its zenith
and you wwre discussing
telekinesis, expanded
consciousness
and meme
transmission

wbklst I stood quiet
as a Sentinel
         unobserved

as I had been through
each of a host of
                   less
than celestial
shapes
     and incarnations

defined by the demeanor each
                      tragic loss
to survive.