TEXTBOOK
it is a textbook case
need to
kill every
shadow
every
evil
reflection
erase
as quiet as we can
with total
extreme
prejudice
kill
every word
before
story escapes
anything
gets written
anything
gets said
it is
a textbook case
textbook case
for all time
remembered
as
true, necessary
exercise
the pages
soaked in blood
forever
forgot
what
the law requires
what
the faith demands
KING OF SWORDS
War is
not part
of my nature.
Said
many prayers
had it
excommunicated.
Hiroshima
is not
my business, neither
is it in my chemistry
my molecules do not
resonate with that
Einstein equation, are
left stone cold by
Oppenheimer’s
Gita paraphrasing
should you, when you
slip curved Katana blade into
my hand
I become aware
of the gravity
way
beyond my capacity
very thought
of shearing, slicing flesh
turning
my fingers to sushi
for a moment
but then the power
and the craft
such beauty in steel
steeling my spirit to point
I can do anything
kill or
be killed let those
ancient dice roll
for here
the rush comes
goes
and maybe wounds, maybe
death, perhaps
slaughter and havoc
maybe
not a scratch, blood
to expatiate
peace in my heart: who knows,
can hazard
a guess how true
and longlasting
sigh of regret even
in victory with the sheathing
of such
a blade.
ANCHOR
I am
at anchor
around me deep currents
connive; slurry unseen
so what
can better can worse
move you, break you
topple towers
leave our whole world,
your world, my world,
entire planet
hanging
by a thread?
thread my spool less than silken
still deep into the distance
way out
towards forever
and all that ever amen you
feel duty bound to add
eyes closed
fingers steepled
so much further than any horizon
beyond what eyes can see
mind
believe.
FINAL FRAGRANCE
Oh the smell
of sex!
sweet sex, smutty sex,
jump out of your skin
whole body
carnal
knowledge sex
devastating, delicious,
migrating, miscegenating,
person
next door,
from the depths
of a jungle planet on
a galaxy
far far away
widrninv youd experience
the gene pool
hybridizing for giggles
to create
fiture utopian worlds
just to release some
pressure experience
an ulimate high
float beyond space and time
experience the ultimate
together
have one crystal
clear headspace carbon
life form moment
as if you turned yourself
to diamond in the
(final
fragrance)
John Lennon imagined sky
HITHER
I wandered through poetry
thought I knew
this place
well
looking for wisdom
looking for humanity
my outlook by
no means negative
though by no means
expecting
wonders
miracles, transformation,
soul-shaping
life-
defining metaphors
and sadly I must add
conceding
no possible hope
for love
which is exactly where I found you
chatting to my Muse
(why is
Muse never lover?)
man
most well-measured
not a syllable out if place
but your
voice
your voice
I do not hear
perhaps it is just too
comfort-zone, risk
averse
agrophobic
when it comes to
to the beyond, the boundless,
our freedom
in a nutshell
shattering it to smithereens
with the force of
poetic pressure
and perhaps
the poet too
perhaps
we should stay contained
work like
jewellers do
in miniature
for this is a dangerous age
bad time
for words
and I, for my sins and
pretensions of
truly sinning
have wandered so far
of course, too
far away thus
with
grace
let me leave
you here
for who
would now come hither?
HAPPY FAMILIES
we were playing
happy families
in the darkness
buried, bleeding
starving
to show that we are
humsn
do what humans do
get bombed to bits
buried alive
by other humans
who contest our right
to be like them
to think
and bleed and love
and feel
trying to do
what humans do
buried alive in
a flattened town
thankful at least that
unlike
so many we
may yet survive
if and when
they dig us
out
playing the cards that
we have been dealt
to win
the gsme you need a set
death and judgement and
the devil and
the falling down
.
cough the thick debris
dust out your lungs
and shout out what we all
do not, should not ever doubt
we are
all one family
BURN
life is not
margarine
spread liberally itself
across crisp, crusty
oven-
fresh bread
yellow golden
no
life is that
which sticks and
burns
rips off your charred skin
falling from Heaven
like napalm,
white phosphorous
or those cluster
people killers
that break into toy-size
teeny-tiny
run like Cristiano
fast and zig-
zag as
you can
across the entire Nou Camp
a bomblet
will find you
mind body problem
nothing in the body
the mind
has not figured, over-
thought
how to how to
horrendously kill
but the Sun continues
for millions of years
this avatar of hierarchy
will
seem so god-
like, be
forever shining
until
like us
it get old, fat and greedy
swallow
the Earth entirely
desperate for survival;
new stuff to burn
OMELETTE
“you egg!”
Macbeth,
Act 4, Scene2
make for
bizarre bedfellows
lead to
crazy places
they definitely do
Darwin
to the jackboot
merry old Malthus
to the electric fence
dingy ripped
and ravaged
upon the ocean
propaganda as truth
set up in best
civllized dress
but slice and dice
whichever way you cut it
there is just too much egg;
today too many eggs
which are
not to preferred taste
being of the wrong shape
and size and
State-approved colour
hence the forever
Napoleonic solution
of
military omelette
poems 2 die for