OLD SCHOOL
I am
just that another
brick in the wall
that flew through
your car window
suffering at the school
where they taught wrong
physics
indoctrinated us with
false history
yep
school in apartheid South Africa
thing devised to
grab you by
the balls and
squeeze until you believed
all those teachers dead now
looking down from
supremacist Heaven so
horribly stressed
their wings losing
all their feathers
or just
turning eternally in their graves
.
PLAIN SIGHT
hiding something
always hiding
something
black ink sloshed
across the page
covering
with words, meanings
diffuse, uncertain
unsteady
complex
everything there opaque
clear as day, in plain sight
EMILY
(a Dickinson/Leone mashup)
she good
she bad
and she
way beyond Tuco Ramirez ugly
(very
definition of Nietzsche’s
sense of beyond)
she the three –
way duel, three
pistoleros, shadows
one
self
the civil war graveyard
extreme longshot
close up
zoom
Mexican
stand-off of all time
COSMOLOGY
a magical alluring mystery
spectacle
almosr too far away
for light to travel
your dance of seven veils
alluding
to our source tempting
our return
.
and me in the back row
with much undersized telescope
longing for the front row
a window seat
somewhere close relatively
speaking
where at least I feel I
can reach out and touch
this routine so exactly
choreographed, yet primal
and chaotic
is thing you have wanted
me to witness
for billions
of yesrs
but the laws that say I am
a bit underaged to be
witnessing this
let alone understand it
tell you that
your moves are slowing
getting stretched out
breaking
dissolving
and this I can see
hear explained by
cosmic dude on
my cellphone (Cox,
Greene, Kaku, Hawking or Tyson)
time will come
when you have Medusaed
yourself
are iron cold and
a statute
and me, as
for me
long long before then
will have deserted the scene
me and my
world well
out of popcorn
this great gorgeous
cinema a thing
of the past (though
no future or past)
SHADOW THAT RESIDES
he must have nigh
a hundred cyber
lovers by now
trillions of synaptic connections
but does he have the Ram
Rom brain space
to hold
cherish them all
beings of bit and byte
whose love
and desire but an
inflection of text
behind
which veil who knows
the truth
being learnt
the shadow that resides
EDGE
only a love descant
could be that beautiful
unless we consider
the melodies of death
whose
melancholic timbre
haunting finality
succinct
completion
all things considered
give
it the edge
TEAPOT
below
everybody’s radar
a fabulous world
bunkering
at the bottom
of your
white rabbit hole
and
after a divinity of
fine tea in the
arms of such company
time to reset
boot up
swipe
delete any virus
inconvenient program
waiting for
the bus of old age
who on Earth is
going to believe your story
the jury out
on whether the bus has
been missed, is late,
can
be said to exist
that debate
still raging, if ever
so quietly,
the luxury of it all
every tea set fully furnished,
expertly laundered
no future as monolithic
on the horizon, on
any horizon, as that
presents us as star child
not wishing to moonshine you
Cheshire Cat or Caterpillar you
you my dear girl
captured in this selfie
under the hat you
borrowed from
that mad
fellow
nothing in your sharp mind
going to change the heavy
metals in
his system to
gold
who single-
handedly threw
tea pot into unknown
postal district
this saucer into whole
new big bang aggrendisment
lurking in
galaxy not up
to us
to speak about
DARK SIDE
“You have no idea
of the power of the
dark side.” Star Wars,
Episode V The Empire
Strikes Back.”
Garside
dark side
my sleek black
serpentine muse
surfacing with a list
of devilish assignations
from
deep beneath the pithead
me paying in blood for
these limited skills (can
barely call
them art)
but today a difference:
wraps me up, hauls
me off
takes me deep
down in that elevator
sheer
demon deep
leveling out there
whar she blows
other uses for these fingers
back-up dexterities
learn to
probe shadow, uncouple
shackles
take on board so much
blistering anger raging
irreverence
raving raging
words
ruins
runes
spreading chaos
across the page
.
stooping to levels
below the unthinkable
damned
to write horrors, delights,
infinite beyond
the gurgling sounds
a throat might make, doomed
damned
blessed
infinitely so
for all time
FIRE
I am fire
born just
shy of fire
when fire comes
to swallow
I am
now you see me
now you
fail to see me
stick turned
to embers
very
fast food
and your lips
bathed in capsicum
hellfire delicious
beyond
imagining
stoked
fired up
to hire and fire
your shit together
locked
and loaded
raring to go
round in the chamber
DUD
I sent you
my poetry
my book
of
failures
every single poem
a failure in significance
coming nowhere
near saying
what
I set out to say
wanted
to achieve
everypoem
a dud
by a mile, by
a hair’s breadth
thinking of your hair
all your
hair not
too
coy here
every poem a mission
a reach
question asked
connection begged
exquisitely
sometimes here perhaps
where not
accomplishment entirely.
poems 2 die for