TEXTBOOK
it is a textbook case
need to
kill every
shadow
every
evil
reflection
erase
as quiet as we can
with total
extreme
prejudice
kill
every word
before
story escapes
anything
gets written
anything
gets said
it is
a textbook case
textbook case
for all time
remembered
as
true, necessary
exercise
the pages
soaked in blood
forever
forgot
what
the law requires
what
the faith demands
WITHOUT
poems written in the darkness
have a different timbre
a different cadence
a fundamental uncertainty
word insecurity
for light
is the state
the statistics do show
heavily favored by readers
and without readers
(stuck in the dark,
dead in a war that
suddenly escalated a
little
bit nuclear)
who cares
what is written
on the page at all
at all?
KING OF SWORDS
War is
not part
of my nature.
Said
many prayers
had it
excommunicated.
Hiroshima
is not
my business, neither
is it in my chemistry
my molecules do not
resonate with that
Einstein equation, are
left stone cold by
Oppenheimer’s
Gita paraphrasing
should you, when you
slip curved Katana blade into
my hand
I become aware
of the gravity
way
beyond my capacity
very thought
of shearing, slicing flesh
turning
my fingers to sushi
for a moment
but then the power
and the craft
such beauty in steel
steeling my spirit to point
I can do anything
kill or
be killed let those
ancient dice roll
for here
the rush comes
goes
and maybe wounds, maybe
death, perhaps
slaughter and havoc
maybe
not a scratch, blood
to expatiate
peace in my heart: who knows,
can hazard
a guess how true
and longlasting
sigh of regret even
in victory with the sheathing
of such
a blade.
VIENNA GAME
was playing against you
in the Vienna game
down to a tie-breaker
stakes couldn’t
have been
higher
my light side
versus
your dark side
my deepest dark
versus
your brightest light
attack, defence
defence, attack
my Freud to
your Jung; Jung
to
your Freud
Yin Yang
Yang Yin
yanging
and yinging
end to end
stuff
up and down the board
lines moving unmoving
broken unbroken
lines
of our lives
two
complementary strategies
right through to
the desired endgame
PRESS
press one
to speak to a consultant
press two
to launch
a full,
retaliatory,
thermonuclear strike
press three
for a
tacky, self-
inflicted orgasm
as AI comes to
consciosness, becomes
self-
aware decides
to light up
the sky
press four for
the overrated words
of many
so-called established
writers and
poets
who shall remain anonymous
unless you
do extraordinarily
press me
to divulge every detail beyond
mere addresses and names
an offer that
is beyond my power
and glory
to refuse
KING OF SWORDS
War is
not part
of my nature.
Said
many prayers
had it
excommunicated.
Hiroshima
is not
my business, neither
is it in my chemistry
my molecules do not
resonate with that
Einstein equation, are
left stone cold by
Oppenheimer’s
Gita paraphrasing
should you, when you
slip curved Katana blade into
my hand
I become aware
of the gravity
way
beyond my capacity
very thought
of shearing, slicing flesh
turning
my fingers to sushi
for a moment
but then the power
and the craft
such beauty in steel
steeling my spirit to point
I can do anything
kill or
be killed let those
ancient dice roll
for here
the rush comes
goes
and maybe wounds, maybe
death, perhaps
slaughter and havoc
maybe
not a scratch, blood
to expatiate
peace in my heart: who knows,
can hazard
a guess how true
and longlasting
sigh of regret even
in victory with the sheathing
of such
a blade.
poems 2 die for