ZEUS DOWNED

ZEUS DOWNED

the plan was
to slip under radar

flying in from Olympus
to punish us exactly,
strafe us with
lightning
it was nevertheless the fate
of this mighty son of Cronos
that
  we saw him heading here
calculated
all the vectors
and simply shot him down

and so we
     laughed it off, his
high and mighty  books embargo
laughed at his divine calculus
of good
    and evil, as all
his algorithms swept
into action

all his talk of
balance of power, mutually
assured annihilation,

of (the hypocrite) ban on
deity mortal cohabitation

so much threat to
     their perfect celestial divine
level
   and an
upwardly mobile
ambitious deadly spawn

a clamoring army
of hybrids, mixes
and
    fearsome blends

variations on
the theme of demigod

BEYOND BELIEF

BEYOND BELIEF

The Devil chuckled
toe-kicked a charred bone
which skidded along
what once was a road

even he
who had seen, had created
so much destruction
found it hard
to take it all in

as he confessed to
his key lieutenant
joining him in the morning
for his tour of inspection

but then he thought
on the ones who
had done this
and his earlier mirth returned

yes those missile messianics
desperate to scorch the planet
fast-tracking to rapture

“I love the smell
of nuclear fission
in the morning

it is
the smell of purity
of transcendence
beyond compare”.

THE LINGERING

THE LINGERING

the sadness
of never knowing you
the real you

always looking
from the outside
seeing the people
you are close to

and this
I show you now
is that image of you
I hold onto, keep
in my heart

Oh if
      I could just relive
that captured moment

feel once more
        feel once more

those small, exquisite, endearing joys
that deep, sublime, long-
lasting,
     lingering pain

DANCING WITH THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN

DANCING WITH THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN

was heading due west
when the wheel
started to splinter, come
away in my hand

seemed like a vortex out there
demonic triangle
         portal pulling me in
ghost ships
     flying dutchmen following
me into
   that gorgeous abyss
(sphere of the zombie, land
of the dead)

where, to be fair, I would find
locale most congenial
to consort
   with Frankenstein’s creature’s
bride

the two of us in true tango,
monstering out first midnight together

drone
of supreme dissonance
about to
   switch off my brain

and yet how
we spin
    across the floor
illusion of
free movement
delusion of light speed

whilst
    eyes still locked inward
split, almost dismembered
the limbs
  scrabbling for somewhere
treading
     ice water dragged across
the spectrum, shuttled forward
back like
      a ball in ping pong between
what we are told
are complete hyperbolic poles

and now for
our videofest, hook up
for the podcast

think up
some catastrophic leveling
skimming like a
cruise missile, like
an angel of abomination
targeting
    all hearts if
we have them

as I repent all
my falsehoods, so
shamefully having lied to you
              to preserve my power
keep
my inverted commas innocence

not a deus ex machina
but brutal blade of a guillotine
falls and released
                           it is
just
the end of the poem

ISA

ISA

who here
at this time, in
this place,
truly believes
that Isa was
a prophet, truly
a divine messenger?

that was seminal about him
(peace be upon him)
was not that
he saved souls but
spoke for the poor, spoke
against Empire
performed miracles, cured
the sick
        raised the dead

less that
he preached his own divinity
than suffered
    for humanity

less that history
has him exalted, than
the evil
     of our nature
                   claimed as
his
   text, in
his name?

عيسى (عليه السلام) نبي الله الواحد الأحد

NOW AND FOREVER


NOW AND FOREVER

the army halts
is quiet as a mouse
phalanx, cavalry
they
     just stand

at its head
their young god king:
he dismounts

he knows philosophy
his tutor was Aristotle

but the man
in the barrel
sneers atchison praise
rebuffs with contempt

promised the Earth, only
wishes for the sky
light of the Sun
not to be plunged
into hero shadow

so many armies, conquerors
heading East, heading West
an unbreakable pattern
now and forever

POEM BE DIME A DOZEN

POEM BE DIME A DOZEN

serious discount
special offer

first-time customer
promo code

buy one and
extraordinaire we
will
                        throw
in for free
ten, twenty, thirty
fifty-five others

all tailor made
right
    for your algorithm

in this hectic lightspeed
universe of
digital time

infinite supply
zero demand

the last
great poem
                so
before
   we were born

SPIRITED AWAY

SPIRITED AWAY

was stumbling through
the glowing embers of
downtown Cape
Town South Africa

so much of the collateral human
damage vaporized by
the strike from the SLBM

which got me thinking
(last thought I would have
as the insane Rad levels
began to get to me)

thinking
that if anything war
has taught us
dissecting a cat
is easier, more egregious,
and worse
a Sin
than performing any
such dissection on
an innocent human

at which, I guess,
you would tell me

no one
is innocence
power is everything
we get
what
we deserve

this I would loved to
debate with you at
my old university
perched
   below the mountain

but I hate to think what
remains of that edifice
at the epicentre
of the blast

I’m pretty sure
it got spirited away

MR MOUSTACHE

MR MOUSTACHE

Oh Mr Moustache
king of the filthy lyrics.
wah-wah guitar
and free speech

throwing sonic
bombs of complexity
at stupidity

there with that f-you
stare in a dress on
that infamous record cover
strictly commercial only
in it for the money
              tuning
the beauty
of our discord

I wonder why your satire
never quite flattened
your targets like,
to be frank, those
zag-zig
        moments in
your outrageous punch

Oh Mr Moustache
if you stab us
do we not jump?

KOI (for G.)

KOI (for G.)

hope this message
reaches you somehow

just to kick off
the world has become a darker
place since you departed
odds on now
we are going
to wipe ourselves out
in nuclear war

stopped by your old place
much had changed, your
inimitable spirit and vibe
long departed
          and I thought of
your fish, those koi
gliding through their pond
in your front garden

had a conceit of myself
speaking to them but
they did
        not appear to hear any voice
or I must gave missed their answer
sound travelling air to water
one medium
to another

who knows what get’s heard,
distorted, filtered out?

what message is received
        what gets missed and
travels on and
on
   destined to expire or
carry on forever

life still chugging along
      a flash of silver scales
beneath
     the surface

I wonder how they saw you
   how much
         they remember now