poem poetry – poems 2 die for

THE PROBLEM

the problem
the essential problem

of the war
against evil

is that the army of the good
fighting a war
against evil
might so easlly
fall
into evil

whilst
the army of evil
fighting a war
never
falls into good

THE POEM ITSELF

every poem
is a death knell,
death sentence

at one
and the same time, in
the same
breath

a wake up call and
astounding catalyst

so much ambivalence,
duality, simultaneity

helpless but to learn
how to coalesce

left lying around, unheard,
unfigured upon

waiting to be noticed
notice itself

BACON PIE

sat not writing anything
for a few hours
then

a whole
load of years

a word or two
did come up

but nothing
like to lead
to a poem

a he in Heaven
who from day one
resented my success
or anything
other than
my abject failure

happy as a pig
in mud

blind to the dazzling
treats of celestial beauty
(each and every)

munching his way
through a divine bacon pie

FOSSIL

call me a fossil
but my eyes
are fixed like Medusa’s om
the clock that be
telling me
I got ninety
seconds to midnight

got me wondering
when midnight chimes
what in
this fairy tale
gets deconstructed, what
gets utterly transformed

and me
having to make my
own way, own
sorry way

all the way back home
forsaking the regal palace

as it warps and
shape-shifts and dissolves

as the book instructs
on practically every page
of its
dense, comple text

trapped between
such
fiery covers
(colour

in this instance
saying it all)

FOR HUMANITY would like to thank you for what you have done for rationality thank you profusely for what you have done for the truth above all, thank you for what you have done for human decency and humanity but for what you have done for God I think best to leave it to Him to thank you Himself

TO BE FAIR (BUBBLE)

TO BE FAIR (BUBBLE)

to be fair
not right to condemn you
just so

change your landscape
alter a few
dimensions
can get you

to believe anything
Nietzsche has, I believe,
a clear advantage over Socrates
in sticking with this

caught in your context
lacking the acumen to escape,
or height to
see over the parapet

soon your environment surrounding
you like a hemisphere, a sphere,
a bubble
and that, in truth,
is your whole world

and my world too, and all
our worlds if you had any say in it

not for not speaking and coercing
have you failed in that regard

                 still it sometimes looks
almost pretty, though, observing
from the outside how
        light refracts within
                        your bubble

PROFESSOR SUGAR CUBE

PROFESSOR SUGAR CUBE

wanted to
dissolve all boundaries
between
self and cosmos, writer
and word

sucked that juice out
instantly
on the road to
strangest territory

such a dark, dark terminal
sweetness

    and multiple many-track
dimensions trapped within the
confines
        of that cube

ISLAND

ISLAND

It must be an island

no man is
an island

I am no man
I am the exception
to every syllogism

so I must be
an island

and that island must be this
one
I find myself
stranded upon

unable to ever leave,
island that I am.

DISTANCE

There will always be
some distance between us
because we arenot the same person

and gender-different, and
race-different too

and other minor, pin-point
differences
to different to
mention

need to take them all
into consideration, subject
to close-
careful evaluation

lest we be led to conclude
upon way too superficial analysis

no two creatures in the galaxy,
let alone our smallish
Goldilocks planet could ever be more similar; less short of same ,

WHATEVER

it is all
whatever
light
and shadow

you could write a poem
close your eyes
and die

find the God-particle that
explains eveything all those conundrums

solved, no more questions
to ask
just do the Maths

or have coitus with one
of us to put
you in the frame of mind

you
in spiritual communion
with the Universe

and suddenly nothingness
is not the shock horror you let yourself

be led into
making it out to be