HARD STUFF

HARD STUFF

you are hard stuff
all of you are hard stuff

same genetic makeup
but I am
of air and water, and
you of aphsalt, rock
and iron

the good stuff of the Earth
all that floats around
its molten core
dividing up the tribes
helping in the fine-
tune proliferation
of each
and every species

and keeping us
a house in schism, forever
divided
no hard-stuff engineer
of a mind
to fix that

AND AGAIN

AND AGAIN

we discovered
a planet of poets
annihilated with
our death ray

could be a useful
profitable resource

so had
their bodies skinned

last night I had a pretty
intense, harrowing dream
inspired by reading
one of their poems
about someone
who ill-
advisedly brings
back to his house
a captured alien, one
of their queens

and dare not leave her
unattended for fear
of what
we might fast-
evolve or transform into

and so my
guilt-ridden nightmare
of horrific self-
transmutation

am never
going to read
any of those poets’
poetry again dreaming such horror again and again

SUMMER SERENITY

SUMMER SERENITY

must be some serenity
out there for me just need to pack

a rucksack, set out
and find it

go through all the acts
and phases, whole
hero’s journey

autumn
winter spring summer

all the seasons
searching but
not, sad
to say
necessarily finding, but

me at least
dancing with summer,
glorious Summer

talking grace and determination
all those roles
as Texas queen of science fiction

and she
imprinting every kind
of message subliminal

into this mixed up head

than my serenity journey
be doomed
from.the outset

much check my
files, my innards

peace be
programmable there

WHATEVER

WHATEVER

it is all
whatever
light
and shadow

you could write a poem
close your eyes
and die

find the God-particle that
explains eveything all those conundrums

solved, no more questions
to ask
just do the Maths

or have coitus with one
of us to put
you in the frame of mind

you
in spiritual communion
with the Universe

and suddenly nothingness
is not the shock horror you let yourself

be led into
making it out to be

SERIOUSLY

SERIOUSLY

This is poem
it is allowed
I give you
explicit permission

to believe whatever you like
can choose to believe
everything
something, nothing,
something and nothing

no big eternal truth
nor any huge perfidious
lie
being told here

no cover ups, whistleblows,
reinterpretations of history
one way

or another creation of mythology,

dabbling in fantasy

letting ideology speak
as if it has every right
to be heard
and
taken seriously.

PUZZLE

PUZZLE

I stay up.all night
solving chess puzzles

which is OK
I cannot sleep

fear something
like a rogue asteroid
out there
with all our names on it
as yet undetected

will strike me and my world
when I am unconscious
diverted by some
troubling insignificance
in a recurrent dream

but
if it has my name
our names on it
at least it shows
on the part of
the cosmos
a level of awareness, of
recognition that
I would not
have believed

marking us for a dark fate in
such a clear, purposive
and determined manner

shows a rational malignity
that just
has to be Greek

a reassuring thought
currently stuck (black
to mate in
seven) on a problem
whose solution I just
do not see
do not see.

MR WONKA

Mr Wonka
keeps his Jabberwockies
in a special, secret room,
carefully hidden, as if
he were a
  James Bond villain
with an ultimate weapon
threatening
    global doom
and not just tooth decay

and yes they do Jabber
all day and night so
there is much
    sound proofing
and sedative gas piped in
to stop them
  from bickering incessantly
over what the lines in
nonsense poetry mean

not
    toves, slithey or otherwise,
are they fed with
  but generous helpings
of meringue, and creme brûlée

but Wonka himself
not really a fan of Freudian
fantasy
  however given such
an English fairy-tale veneer;
mathematical joke and
logical
    conundrum given
a fair sprinkling of
to distract you from any
birth trauma, worm hole
singularity, cosmic horror
felt as you
    with Alice down
  the rabbit hole do
                        disappear

flattening out horizontally
in order
    to board Wonka’s boat
at the entrance to
his terror tunnel

where he will
            flip into a ranting
temporary insanity
to remind us
  he is sweet entrepreneur,
but also
      bizarre fruit
              of a strangely cross-
pollinated, Rimbaud, Lovecraft,
Edgar Allan Poe tree

as we steamship along
journey timed to exactly
to recitation length of
his weird
    psychedelic
avant-garde film of
        a gothic poem

flowing with the chaos of
      the cosmos
                  shades of
Rimbaud’s
  alcoholic Seine trip

or maybe
    trapped in what
seems like an eternity of
malignly-authored
            simulation

moving not at all
    (in the absurd
                there is
no
  terminus only
infinite
    departure)

for the truth here we need we need
to ask
      the Jabberwockies (at
least
  the one of them that
as in the riddle
always
    tells the truth)

Charlie and Alice
          having long disappeared.

BREEZY

BREEZY

wanted to whip
up something
light ‘n breezy

ended up
heavy as lead, as plutonium

did it
for my brother, for
a song, though
I am not his keeper,

put it in the microwave
like it said
in plain print, instructions
on the packet

was kind of holy script
but I got it wrong, but
I got it wrong

not our
brothers’ keepers
wanted light ‘n breezy
thought we
understood the script

but
we all got it wrong

breezy not the name
of the dish
we microwaved

when we read
it on the packet it
felt delicious good

AND SO

AND SO

and so
now you cyborg
genetically tweaked

old school meets new
with the tech
on view

brain by meccano
chip
under your skin

so enhanced as
you laser-look around

safety
your motto:

scan the ocean for
streamlined shape, cutting-
edge fin
sonar to shape-
image (be safe be better
than
be sorrow)

or reset
parameters, spectrum
shift a twist
on paradigm

here’s the download
for aesthetic
take it all in
this
night phosphorescence

through a range of filters,
can filter
virtually anything

input
beyond what you
trained
to believe