COME SIT

COME SIT

come sit

need to talk
we have been taking
this thing
all too seriously

making it more
far more
than what it is

just lines
and images
patterns of syllables

by no means the
be all and
end all
of the world

especially at this time
when there is no time

what you and I see, perhaps
alone in this:
countdown in seconds
ten nine eight
seven etcetera

to
the end of the world

not a rhyme
or reason to be left
for
   those who love
for those who care

CROSSING

CROSSING

am crossing the Universe
moving slowly

an inch
per  century

searching
for lost souls
some of these souls
infinitely
more lost than mine

relative
     to all other speeds
and
   your speed especially

time for me
moving so fast
that by
    the time reaches you

the Universe will have
died and been
reborn
    billions of times

COSMETIC

COSMETIC

to the best
of my knowledge

no one asks
the planets
the stars
the galaxies
about their loneliness

not a single poet
single cosmologist

and so to
Earth

for God knows
how many centuries
the centre of everything

Hubble bubble
     popped that one
didn’t he

back to Earth exquisitely
nothing special

we got mountains we
got oceans
    boy have
    we got oceans

but under this curved sky
this vault of blue atmosphere

at least
talk of beauty,  the cosmos
cosmetic

to the best of my knowledge

LOVERS

LOVERS

millions
were making love
when the bomb
dropped

a fat few megatons
vaporized them instantly

moment when
dream and desire
annihilated themselves

love and death
in dark exactitude
of intensity
    so mirroring each
other

as if the species
was fucked from the moment it began

but
the poem still here

jury out
clock still ticking

lifetimes of love
still to resolve

DREAMSCAPE

DREAMSCAPE

you think this is a poem
in your dreams
       it us a recurrent dream

one in which
we lose
     each other try
to
    find what went wrong

search for joy
             escape the nightmare

bliss, salvation
nirvana, integration
anything remotely resembling
even
   as shadow the above

question is will you help me
will I help you

or are we just relays, ciphers,
circuits in
   the dream machinery?

something out there
seems to be hounding me
and yet
      cannot discount the possibility
might be here to save me

whisper softly (turn
on your audio, unmute
yourself presently)

                     tell me
since all ears

the message as it is (or
how you best guess understand it)

promise on my soul
to keep it locked between us
exclusive
     share between us

thing at least to bind us
running through this recurrent dream

even if we wished to
as much as we try
                         simply
cannot escape from


RECITAL

RECiTAL

I came to
your recital

enthusiastic, hoping
for the best of the best

some of it
      sounded smart

some of it
may last

went down like a dream
swept
      up your audience

who were
so taken by the spin
of your spoken word

skill
     of your voice

this despite the heard
it all before
      painful self-
centredness
   of what
         passed for a text.

MARIONETTE

MARIONETTE

I was
interviewed by a,
marionette

someone ardently, adroitly,
pulling, plucking the strings
behind the scenes

was from network or
other, I forget which one,
CNN, FOX, BBC
much
of a muchness
if you ask me

someone
working those strings making
them sing
though I would
struggle against
the grain to
call it lyrical

too much
noise, dissonance,
same old same

English words
on life support begging
for death, screaming to be free

I was
interviewed by a marionette
sent
to get my fist
publicly expose me

narrative
confirmed, truth out
the door

left me
to my thoughts, not
good ones either

better by far
had they sent a robot
AI intelligence never
so
well programmed

if had
left
me be
better infinitely more
than entirely

BODY OF EVIDENCE

BODY OF EVIDENCE

the jury is out
cannot

reach a verdict
in the streets, in their
backyards for
those with
ears to hear a
body of evidence

strewn everywhere
bodies of evidence
high as
a hillock, still
piling up

vast
as a mountain up
there in its
death
zone where
no human
might breathe

the jury is out
out on a limb
severed limb
of humanity

there
is no justice, will never
be justice

we are all under judgement
all in balance

judges hanging
from every lamppost and tree