POINT BLANK
Oh Mr Point Blank
I see I have a brand new
archetype
from lover and
magician
suddenly am
become
crone
hunched, crippled
in body whilst
the mind grows sharp
as a scythe
brutally clearer
seeing our nemesis
exactly
long before it is
here
how by the twisted
logic of our being
what
it needs destroy
how
it unfolds.
FIELD
Looking out from left field
not quite
field of dreams
a tad more field
of batshit electromagnetic craziness
pinging electrons
(stuff in passing we
are
made of)
into being
and so
my field report
(so many
questions no doubt now
to field)
there are no electrons, paticles, me you, distinct
individuals
only probabilities
and what the field says,
what the field believes
ready to
build for
those who come
AT THE PROLETARIAT CAFE
I dunk my bread
into my tea
dreaming of
designer coffee,
dark expresso
and world where
we are not your wage
slaves do
not fight your wars
fill
your cenotaphs
(those of us whose bodies
or parts thereof
can still be)
I dunk my bread
into my tea
nothing on the menu
Is what it seems
no one
speaks
can only believe
what we are sold to believe
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
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
poems 2 die for