MEDUSA
Medusa, she of the serpent tresses,
unjustly transformed because
women cannot be innocent
knows they are coming
the reporters, the cameras,
the cliche
hunting commentators,
the writers and poets
with all
their reflective surfaces
knowing
she can never
forgive or be forgiven
and this her logic
is that
until she is killed
(sure she
is to be killed)
she must
strive to turn
each of these
paladins of brutality
contempt, injustice
to mute outcrops
of fabulous stone.
IF CHESS
if chess
were music
it would
be Mozart
the melodies sparkling
and yet fastidious
scarcely can tell
anything of
rebellious Aquarius
in there at all
if chess were
soundtrack
wouldn’t be
punk rock, wouldn’t
be Led Zeppelin
yet
Mozart seems
prepared to
rock-
hard
go hard
rock
be our favourite snotty-nosed
neo-classical punk
inclined to
tease the establishment
as far
as he could get
stick
that
dissenting finger
everywhere, from
tune to theme
(cleverly disguised to
rhyme
with the times)
see them
for the wooden
major minor pieces
that they are
carved
for the ranks and
files and
to dance the diagonals
(Archbishop black and Archbishop white)
INMORTALS
as the division between
dream and reality, sanity
and madness
ultimately collapses
I think of the identifications
made and the frameworks
devised
for living our lives
at one time or another we were
anarchists, liberals , communists,
conservatives, reactionaries,
empathic social democrats
becoming neo this
and that
as the years whooshed past
and the spirit
of our youth
unmistakably began to die
and now we sit
wisdom badly waned
rationality denied
so much worse for wear
the world
(much worsened world)
made to suffer
for our
presence
great sin of ego
desire to keep
what
was for all
for our
few selves
our wealth a
sign of favour,
as if
selected
by immortals
BLESSED
blessed are
the pure in spirit
most
distilled
amongst us
transcendent
beyond compare
for them
that most cerebral reward
of white pieces, black
pieces
chess for all eternity
hoping that in the course
of infinite play
they will most certainly
discover, find,
simply stumble upon
the perfect game
whilst
those no lesser
on this sliding scale
might find themselves
charting the incredible
magical features
of a sublime simulation.
wondrously
generated world
in which
no law is called
sacrosanct
unless by truly
consensual overwhelming agreement
the idolatory of markets is
crazily absent (yet not
decisively forbidden)
as is
the presumed eternal
law of
supply and demand
CROSSBOW
I interrogated Aphrodite
after the fall of Troy
so much death and devastation
through her direct interference
all for a single
golden apple, and the required
abduction of a queen
holding her in
the sights of my
crossbow whilst
I bombarded her
with questions
on the nature of love,
her sacred domain, and
why
it should exist at all
when it destroys
so many of us
or leaves us
alone and yearning
victims of its disdain.
DARK POETRY
no twist, turn,
switch
though by all means
a switching on
of the light
a searching, probing
light
the kind survelling the landscape
scanning the skies
enough luminosity there
to scare anyone away
from
subterranean explorations
writing dark poetry,
commonplace anathema
who knows in
the darkness
what razor’s edge
what peril to hard-won
community?
what sways and bends, plunges
deep into itself
goes full on despair
of Garden of Gethsemane
petals of
blood there
to be seen?
yes
what we have here
must say what it says write
as is written
in the absence of light
suddenly that which dazzles
what
the reader demands
never
an abyss, no dark
night of the soul
SYLVIA 2026
Sylvia i would take blackberrying again
out amongst
those luscious, vicious.
brambles one
last time
be like children
unrestrained. gorging
ourselves stained red
returning home
bloodied
with load upon load
in plastic bags
telling ourselves
soon soon soon
we shall all be
in pie Heaven
it was a war
gathering them
but we
were unshakable
so having
fought a war
to capture this
wild treasure
let love
be the power
we next consider
so much we both
need to redeem there
we have
our mad symbols which
to some extent will
serve us, help
with the co-creation
of one common reality
much
lovemaking to learn
starting from
the ground up
with the care of watchmakers
dealing with a machine
of such sensitivity,
such intricacy
all those cogs and jewels
and tiny immaculate gears
watching your fingers
move through the thorns
is
as if i were watching
the playing of
some strange, exotic
beautiful instrument
transcendental
as if composing
writing the exact music
of this scene
for every berry
a sublime note.
XENO POEMS
1. SUN
the xenomorphs
were playing
in the Sun
having such fun – –
I did not think
biological creatures could
survive such. unseasonably
high
temperatures at the heart of
the corolla
****
2. BOOK
the xenomorph
was reading me
like a book
a Lovecraft book
one which
turns its
own pages
tiny tentacles reaching out
from inside the book itself
****
3. FOOD
the xenomorph
shared its, food with me
after which, as act
of reciprocity,
shared me
with its food
****
4. CHOIR PRACTICE
The xenomorphs
having attainef consciousbess
found
religion
are gathered together
to conduct a huge debate
whether to
crucify, or
simply burn at the stake
the worst of all heretivs, apostates and sinners
and those
habitually
late for
choir practice
****
5. WAR
humans sent a delegation
to the xenomorphs
attempting to
civiluze them
moderate
their savagery
teach them the
gentle art
of human warfare
annihilating cities,
with state of
the art
weapons
fire
and forget
aimed at targets
thousands of
miles away
so
casualties
not an issue
RENAISSANCE
let’s have a Renaissance,
invent new styles, devise
new rules
a whole new way of seeing
small r, big R, modest, huge,
tailor made to alter
this mind set which
has led us
to follow what we
are being told
into year
upon year of
extreme disasters and
insurmountable crises
and to get this off the ground
before directly or
indirectly fire
finds
and destroys us
burning us to a crisp
devouring all hope, guzzling
all food
this in the name
of
the highest ideals, as we
now see them
by virtue of which
we would
slaughter one another
destroying ourselves
believing this alone,
above everything,
sets us
on the right path
to the transcendence
of species
hurtling towards the right,
fully moral, sharply spiritual
fully linear
incandescent realization
of our
determined life path
so
let’s have
a Renaissance, rewrite
everything here utterly
IMPASSE
you glance
at my poem
my poem
looks back at you
into you
you glare
at my words,
suspicion impacted
wondering
what lies beneath, here
we hit an impasse
no way to
resolve this
applying the protocols,
rules, regulations
of current civilization
unless image
by image, symbol
by symbol,
together it is
we negotiate this page
trade, vent, share,
exchange
for the sake
of the poem
refract, reflect,
rescind, do what
we both do best,
perform
a whole number
full-on optics and chemistry
without these
no hope for any preservation
of mere mortal remains
poems 2 die for