art voice truth poem poetry – poems 2 die for

TANGENTIAL

TANGENTIAL

as the camera pans
and tracks

keenly observant
as the eye of God

note all of it
down
take it
into evidence:

here a triptych of images
from the bowels
of Hell
avenues of billboards
picturing the unspeakable

and here words untethered, words
of wild association

and here
in consequence, dancing
on fresh graves

grinding down the monuments
crushing the flowers

all we
need is a river
coiled like
a serpent
and we have apocalypse now

*****

Excuse me
apologies for

throwing you into this headlong
without thought of a preamble

felt you are
so familiar with this
terrain
no introduction required

observe us now: myself
and an odd band
of philosophers
in open formation

making huge headway as
we navigate the path
between
battlefields

move from battlefield to
battlefield
observing with horror

how far we have slid
from regime of rational truth

and the care
of the wise gods

finding the think tanks and
complexes and factories

structures wide
as whole cities, reaching
upward to Heaven
portals to
supremacy

foundaries for the steel and ghe stone for us to build
our lush monuments

utterly expressive of our
desire
for eternal comfort
and peace

and as
for the price paid

we do not
         let it run away from us
but
   (in tight formation now)
keep it
      carefully monitored

the debt in hard currency
always balanced
in blood

for philosophically speaking
this is
a landscape of division
cruel dialectic
and dichotomy

those who did this finding
means to speak that
horror

terrifying their madness
out of them

sculpting the darkness
of the species in
such
exquisitely warped
form

TO END ALL WARS

TO END ALL WARS

you call me
an animal
but you
are the ones
who kill
poets

shoot them
through the back
of
the head

civilized style
execution style

and amongst animals
who could be
less worthy of
life

than poets
what poet anywhere
(looking at
you, Wilfred Owen,
Erich Maria Remarque)

did their bit
for humanity

by winning a war
(the war to end all wars)

DEATH HAIKU (2.2)

DEATH HAIKU (2.2)

smoke: such a bad sign
bodies burn, dead or alive
ash in mountains piles

FROM KENDRICK LAMAR

FROM KENDRICK LAMAR

strange perspective
you get
married
to a robot

watching the gangsta
rapper winning
the big award

tattooed arm, backwards cap
thanking God
the great promoter
(looking up as he does so
this shredder of
convention)

and me and robot gossiping
about the whole thing
kind of laughing (much
robot ha ha
tears in her eyes emoji
laughter) paused

for a moment
while she downloads
acquaints herself with
the entire history
of rap lyrics, hip
hop music

converts this poem
in a flash to the style
of Eminem and
then Kendrick Lamar

so a feeling for poetry
perhaps because
I named her
Sappho

we still for the Nobel Prize
for Eminem
joining TS Eliot
and JM Coetzee

the speech and
lecture in Stockholm
from Kendrick Lamar

UNDESERVED

UNDESERVED

take it away
take this away
keep
well to yourself
I refuse to read rhis
we refuse to read this

you have nothing
to sell
you havs sold everything
this poem is immired in
bloodshed and murder
holy lies,
false propaganda

the slaughter of poets
right next door, through
the barbed wire

right outside
your secure (impossibly
insecure)
contrived
golden cage

take them awsy
these poems, your writings
this so-called poetry

forgive me
forgive us

if we give them
the contempt we feel

where you tell us images,
symbols,
metaphors

we see
only blood, find only
complicity

no matter how much you
tell yourself
do everything human
and barely human

to convince us
it is
undeserved

and so

plesse go

we csn suffer you no longer
take your sad, broken
failure of
a Muse with you

and
just disappear

WOBBLESY

WOBBLESY

My wobblesy body feels like it was made of TS jelly wobbles and was

dragged Through the Looking Glass in search of a body of knowledge

manga fans oh how all the animations allow you to stylize my body horror

They do not give out Nobel prizes for nothing come

Follow Me
I shall take you out deep into no man’s land to where the Nobel Prizes grow graphic, thick and furious like a jungle or an industrial complex

oh this thing entropy nothing on earth and under the spell of gravity can resist your will
under your Sith serpent
power
avoid
becoming aged and bent,
crippled by time or
flattened entirely; rolled tighly into a Prufrock ball
silver-papered
collapsing under mass of own gravity or hideous weight

such as the case
with its monstrous prosody
that
cuts through carves through
sinew and line
thar mighf be way better expressed
But I am consciousness, damn it,
and will
not be so undermensch, slave
mentality addressed

and so will resist
have it in me: in my D and also my A
to pull a radical chemistry, total
kitchen-sink alchemy
become blob of early science-fiction
horror
terror of the cosmos eveb
with ridiculous prop and

sans world-altering green screen
philosophy-rewriting graphic
(that
book hollowed out
where Neo
hides his truth
truth you
have to see
and feel)
and as blob

name up in lights and
star of the John Carpenter show
lovecraft loving myself
(yet nothing masturbatory)

demigod of
sexual psychosexual
sixties psychedelic acid
dissolving everything in my slow inexorable path
and
then some
putting paid (style of
late capital
economic erotic orgasmic ectoplasm)
of all that
Borg resists, fails your

cosmic Turing test of simple logic
suppliy and demanfd
not to speak of Malthusian
stupidities of my sweet but stupid
biodegradable humanity
float tp the surface stuff in
the primal soup and
expendable offal connecting tissue
body fluods
in event of war and advent of
armanents’ industry

could cry for
this humanity
if I had eyes
and I had tears
lurking in the undergrowth in
alien camouflage
so far beneath ice and
fire
and blasted rock planet
of your proverbial, perpetual underworld
below, beneath and

so incomprehensible
to ali
that is Aesthetics of Guides and Gods and
old outworn mythology of
Anglo American poetry
modernist to
a cataclysmic
fascist failing fault.