OH WHY
why
have windows
when you have got
television?
why when cerebral implants
still the need for eyes
I asked
but seems like all ears
tuned today
to another frequency
sensual, sensuous,
simulation can deliver
more than we
able to
desire
could ever require
IN SUPPLY
I saw you wearing
the darkest, hugest
sunglasses imaginable
necessarily so, what else
might shield your blue blue eyes
from the Heavenly Sun in
full heavenly glare
light so bright
you would be forgiven
for imagining
that light
to be everywhere
and there you were
tucking not
into ambrosia
but a fat, juicy, meaty
(perhaps
the meatiest pie
imaginable)
knowing that
everything you had
ever dreamt
is
here realized
a paradise of demand
never short
of supply.
ICICLE; CINDER
icicyle;
cinder
am looking out
of the window
waiting
for my next class
the rain falling
no snow
no ash
nothing flash-
freeze
nothing volcanic
yes, Mr Frost:
ice might suffice
or rain might drown us
after a thousand
days
and nights
rain
from above
and rising sea
before I do drown
promise to give
your poem
a final read
CLEAN SHOT
Ah! You look back with
unbelievable fondness
trying to relive the time
only one of your feet
had a bullet through it
not two beauties in each
felicitously self-inflicted
the accuracy having
substantially improved
unerring aim —
today shooting at
oneself
it is
impossible to
miss.
TINA
law of
thermodynamics
there is no
limitless energy
force of
Nature
voice blasting its
way into deep space
flash-fire
raging across
the stage
what can we say
sometimes it takes
a humungous star
to
cease its star-stuff
for the curse of mortality
to hit home
I say star
but it was like you
were a one woman whole
constellation
crafted,
beautifully crafted
in
such special metal
creature of
song
forged
in the flame
of spirit, a truly
golden soul
SPEED DEAL
This poem is coming at you
in real time
you may
reduce the speed
to ensure you do not
miss anything
for what is a poem
if you miss anything?
A thing you might
have to read again
another day
when you feel better
when you feel like
being nudged ever so
slightly
towards
your much better self.
STOCKFISH
my pieces do not flow
they are all
nut
and bolt
whilst the Stockfish pieces
swarm to devour
attack like piranhas
strip my defence down
to bare bones
there’s blood
in the water though you cannot
see it
Oh, that one day my
chess brain might
be Achilles and his Myrmidons
so brutally fleet
and adept
at butchering
slaughter without mercy
and then we shall find
out exactly what you
are made of
my artificially intelligent friend
UNBOXED
chess:
so many games played
never
a masterpiece
moves missed (many,
many)
victory
falling by the wayside
and so
I do not succumb to
the joy of a world
of sheer
possibility
where every thought
of genius
lies the far side of a
blunder simply
begging to be
blunders of the kind
you can no way redeem
but here I am
sweating my way on
supposed improvement
trajectory
puzzle after puzzle:
mate in five, four,
three, two
find the best move
now plodding through
with each opportunity grasped
tiny chess revelation
this box-like wonder of a
a perfectly square game
all
blocking, line and
angle
divulging the logos
of its beauty,
glimpse of mystical infinity
unpackages the light
takes
me heart and soul
Have you ever broken a bone?
SPIN
the odds against
you reading this poem
are very steep
the odds against this poem
ever coming into being
are even steeper
you and I not destined
to meet, talk
across this
metaphorical table
in this
unreal forum
unless
we perhaps be
as the quantum theory
people tell
it,
sub-
atomically entangled
which we
can test, can test
when we dance
this moment out
together
be on exquisite lookout for
equal and complementary
opposite
spin
(odds
on this
an absolute certainty)
poems 2 die for