THE APHRODITE POEMS
APRIL 2025
CONJUNCTION
maybe I should
wear sequins
slip.into camouflage
be the first to go retro
paint myself
with woad
blythely entertain
every non-sequitur
segue
into
Mars and Venus, straddling
the border between
bold Aries
tough Taurus
proferring spectacle
of conjunction, light show overhead
compact, caught fragrantly,
même on the internet
so drop deadly
caught in
media res, not yet
the third act
waltz for a Strauss
or Amadeus to chime in
with finding
melody
doing the deed with the style
sets mortal from
divine
ludicrously
apart
****
DITTY
paradigm shifting wholesale
been getting my fingers
sticky
less than strictly affixed
to a pagan goddess
you have heard of the one
born in monstrous moment
beauty incarnate
setting Achaean and
Trojan
at loggerheads
at each other’s throats to
give us
Homer’s great song
Achilles’ story strictly
according to all evidence mythological
that age’s rockstar
and here humble ditty
to she who taught
me much
under
morning, evening Star
with
boon brought to savour
ambrosia, not absinthe
which in
fine goddess chat she
duly advised small droplet dose
to write
stuff of the clouds, word
fit for sky
lace to tie up
every loose strand that might
wish to
remain Adonis
forgo all she gives and
beyond belief is wild party to
there in the ocean, mad
molten moment
risen
from the deep
visage
sublime
coagulation of desire
as mirror complete
INHERIT THE EARTH
.
day blaring rock
cool jazz
night universally
reserved for
rhythm and blues
and would that
not be old Orpheus
picking, plucking at strings
master of the fretboard can
make Rickenbackers roar
Tele-Stratocasters sing
so that all
beauty-smitten stay
for the duration
trapped
in that chord-sequence
.
and she
whose memory so jars me
following me
from the underworld but
how faithlessly
I turned
.
so arrogant to assume
that time
my be conquered, distance
a thing
to laugh at
freeze – framed, an
ice
sculpture
Aphrodite’s Adonis as
disaster made plain
DOUBTLESS
whirring, purring
no doubt a sign of sentient being
or whatever
doubtless
the work of demon deceiver
in chief
world where the marionette speaks
invites
you to download
welcomes to a world of pleasure
no world
of poetry, poem
and this scratchy little
voice of itself
gives not a fig
for your hidden of needs
most secret desires
ITSELF
she gambolled alongside
me she did once
that Aphrodite
escorting me to
that class on stylistics
backside of Devil’s Peak
University
given by Doctor Austere
who knew his stuff
pretty much like
none before
or since, save
perhaps TS. or
Plato
and since I could not
resist the compulsion
to ask some fool
question
espied me at that
young moment
lolling in the arms
of goddess beauty itself
THE REST
Verb
is alchemy
the rest
litany
as with big bang
making
some statement
ever –
unfolding text.
HIP HOP VERSION
killing me softly
(hip hop version)
at the fish
restaurant
me there early
before officially open
the waitrons sweeping
cleaning shifting
tables
and me wondering whether
nussels or calamari
to be part of my order
and if tarrifs are going to
feed true revolutionary vibe
(Slavoj. Zizek on my
phone interviewed by
left channel
decrying
capitalist subjectivities
and off
the press acronym
for
fuckable grandfathers
and friendship with
Fred Jameson whom I once
hosted in Durban
where
he did order prawns
and went up
to the Drakensberg to
imbibe
the rock paintings
away from
cognitive mapping bugbears
true bane of our age
and
so killing me softly
that night I stayed over
my death was the softest
probably cannot blame you
so much wonder
there refused
what graciously on offer
unbelievably rejected
and
at the heart of all loss
and conceivably lost moments
that tyrant
of this life
in the calling of time
killing me softly
sometimes the sampling
can change
song itself
FOR THE GODDESS
machine is
imitation goddess
is
distillation
those Greeks eyes,,
unbounded
pondering what
big business might be
cooking up
on high Olympus
savants of definition
Sphinxes of distinction
let me set
a feast, something
of a sore sight for
in coming purity of battle
between human and machine
being one in
holiest harmony and conjunction
with all that is
one with
fissure certain
throughout the cosmos
idyll of true
electronic dream
VI
WHOLLY FORGET
optical illusion
delusion
allusion
noise in every act of communication
guitar feedback
reaching
crescendo
and now you tell me
I am twisted like a Mobius
pretzel
me is that strain of
consciousness
that gets
filtered out
so many roles just
one actor
best in concentrating
of this taxing script
the other roles be
the ones to wholly forget
****
NO SWEAT
I smell
of sweat
smell of death
a smell
to savour
sweat
laced with death
raw odour
needing a tad more
of your perfume
and spice on my skin
and so this alchemy
whose secret
barely hidden
opens itself
to scrutiny
lead
turned to platinum
gold
to uranium
crystal to
diamond
water
to steam
and star blazing
fissile energy
force of
such
fusion
stuff of that
industry
to thing that you are
which
that old skald, old troubadour
Saxon
Norman Viking
Celt
within me
can sing of hesitantly, imperfectly,
the superabundance you require
so
much long gone
all its
revelation
lending itself
to
all
that
is rival, separate
Other
distant in time
faithfully elsewhere
whilst
I smell of sweat, do
speak here
of death
and other transformation.
****
THE ESTABLISHED WISDOM
the established wisdom
strongly suggests
superglue to stick
the pieces together
from proposition to
conclusion
everything snapping
together like Lego bricks
thus
the position will stand cast
iron logic being
a veritable castle
no chance out there
of (on the sly) some
slavery funnelled
in
on the sly in
guise of
state of the art
sweatshop
drawbridge portcullis
they know
what to
say
how to read
everyman his rights
no way for
metaphor
on their watch
to Derrida the
base
superstructure down
toppling
so card
tower
(who would
have thought?)
to attack the base bring
card tower down
toppling
here in this bullpen
the rodeo of ideas
can so unsettle
that you
ride
that buck bronco backwards
thinking this confederate
union cavalry
and
go with the flow
see what history will make
of that
Gettysburg
last day
whose outcome prefigured
(curse
of tremors in
the market, much
insider
trading)
a house divided
against itself
if not as themselves houses
then perhaps
as
safe as a bank
and there the ranks of the
blue and the gray
under different
white stars
it is said
history
with many, many
more lessons than
sparing rod; spoiling child
****
FLAT
sweet iced tea
booze chaser
from T S in vogue
to Charlie at the bar
my, how
time flies
and way
we classify
smoke with
every breath
bourbon splash
sometimes pancakes
are all a reader needs
syrupy
ever do sickly
way beyond
definition of flat
POEM FOR HELEN NATASHA
tough love
cruel to be kind
but let mention she
who needed to win
most of all
see her favourite’s name
up in the city of lights
Achilles slain
the towers fallen
she who was raped
less than harmoniously returned
and who, being man,
being man born of woman
would be so
out of his right mind
to vote
against her
spurn that offer
she flirting with the idea
of full divine disclosure
revelation
of that so in utter excess
of mere mortal beauty
mere legendary
beauty of
a Spartan Queen
straining against the bit
holding back unless
her hero
lose his sight
die sublime
kind to
be cruel
cruel to be kind
****
OVERNIGHT
I am desultory chicken boy
coming home to roost
chaos joker dancing
in the pale moonlight
anarchic fellow
crowing long before the dawn
scarred I am
my features are
sacred beginning: crashed
the party hurtling headlong
headfirst
from the boot
of your cab
bouncing off windshield
back into the Underworld
life in your
luxury lap to
utter amazement of all
my Queen of Hades
dancing
to inherit the Earth
cocksure
this is the life that was meant
Herr Will-to-Power
these the roads most
follow
to dig up
overnight
****
IN MY JUDGEMENT
that you
be not judged
did
knowingly
and willingly
break a chocolate bar
to give, to share
that you did.
to donate to the commons
break a taboo
trespass a place wired up
fenced off
cut into parcel size chunks
that some might
(in my
judgement
parenthetically)
have a slice
enjoy their smidgen
hold
title by bithright, perpetuity
(more
than mere meagre acre)
their Heaven on Earth
****
SCRATCH
that’s rich!
a hint
of measured, justice apocalypse
is the thing you missed
blues mingling with reds
contending
with purples
strikingly: so much so
that you miss the fine writing
on the wall now
spreading across
the sky
all at sea, the logos screwed,
politically, economically, socio-
logically
counting on the prescience of
index, rolladex,
all your database systems
as the waves roll in tides change
continents tilt currents shift
bringing you fully up
to speed
fully up to scratch
****
NOT TOO FAR-FETCHED TO BELIEVE
no not
quite the perfect
device for
reaching consensus
producing acceptance
no fault of
the poet, one
the poem must own;
reflect only
the art that failed
to inspire left
much to
communicate
the poet so much
rejection heading his
her way during
the course
of which lifetime
poem
the only compensation
and yet here
it fails
(not too far-
fetched to believe)
****
SUCH THINGS
supply
demand
greed
shackles and
sheckels
we got a whole
market economy
but what
the downside, what
the tightening tariff
tell me now
for I was born of woman
am part of that insanity
but now
for my sins
though still wedged in
am edging my way out
tunnelling
towards the light
I never truly
believed in
scarcely a scrap of paper
to my name
to record
what I feel here
instinctively, by Nature
(Reason to
catch up later).
words begging
for attention
kiss my ass to that bliss
which I
never earned anyway
you tell them you tell them
what we started with
such hope
dead from imagination
****
LONG NIGHT
let me walk you through
the length of a night
the breadth of a poem
sorry if you so surely Shelley
about the nature of rhyme
miss a beat, grimace
flutter as the lines stutter
not Homer blind but
pretty much a
stick-shuffling cripple
trying to make it through
short days
long nights
when you so cookie-cutter
about everything
dial in delivery
everything on the menu
from hot to
G spot
long night love afterglow
basking in luxury
let me
cuddle my pen
dishing you
this trash
****
MOON
only a spring recoil away
from evil in motion
truly malign action
genocidal event
for which
technology off
on a whim serving as the
great multiplier
distance from the blood
that sticky sweet to
the touch
never gets washed off
but what
the eye does not see
the heart can Enola Gay over
stay fuzzy, misdirected
as from over the hill
over the horizon
they send the first strike
that removes all the worry
of retaliation
and there it is
engine of war, motor
of history
carting us off over
a shameful moon
****
LIGHTLY
dove flew
(24/7
at her beck and call)
down from
Olympus
quicksilver service of
his divine mistress
she needing
a word, more
than a word with her
misfiring genius
also
express delivery a vial
not of regular old absinthe but
crystal-precious ambrosia
not just
once but twice, thrice
carbon filtered and
scientifically
distilled
his eyes still smarting in recoil
from her last light show
before she decided
to conclude mutual proceedings
in standard mortal
Helen of Troy form
whatever and
whichever way to
be diced
she
not to be taken lightly
jazz of her in full worship glory
too much for
me to bear
****
BALL
ball rolled down
a chuté
shot out
a spring
sure
thing
and me Mr Uncertainty
only ever
graduating to
Professor Still-
in-Doubt
Oh that clockwork
chocolate marionette soldier
holding the line
never
breaking ranks
when the ball that the Universe
let itself be scooped
into
enters our system
collides with
our planet
will all or gods confer
debate pooling their powers
the Sun sad to see
any of his vast circle
of siblings and
children
summoned and judged
assigned the fine
hairline
cosmic justice of
planned
extinction event
****
MANCHESTER APHRODITE
I am
always dreaming of Manchester
always dreaming of Aphrodite
she comes from
Reykjavik, she comes from
Kingston, she comes from
Tehran, she comes
the South, further
South than
Richmond, New Orleans,
Auckland, Canberra or
Johannesburg
further East than
Manilla, Lahore, Madras,
Shanghai, Singapore or Osaka
further left than
Rosa Luxemburg or
Dolores La Passionaria
but I jest;
of course I jest,
she only ever appears as you
perhaps
she is you
and I am doomed to haunt
the dream streets, twists
and turns and
secret alleyways of
this
city looking for you
only for
the beauty, utter beauty
of single
devastating glimpse.
****
CONSIDERED
you read
my mind
got shocked
at what
you saw
so
phoned the gendarmerie
de sécurité
who
getting their
wires crossed
sent a fire engine
what sights in the
streets there whereupon
mystic insight
not everybody’s cup
of tea
today even the most
vile corruption
must be deemed
ever Holy
above board and
watertight considered
****
poems 2 die for 