Tag Archives: humanity

KING OF SWORDS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JUNGLE GYM

JUNGLE GYM

I ate my jungle oats
you are your jungle oats
you ate my jungle oats
I ate your jungle oats

we ate our own and
each other’s jungle oats

not at the watering hole
but in bed together

you telling me that aliens
came to this planet Janet
tens of thousands of
years ago
    as is recorded on
scroll and parchment
to build the pyramids
and screw
      our woman

the former with sonic resonance
and photon matter creation
technology

           maybe, safe to say,
pretty much
the latter too

and you trying to tell
me that
    Noah’s Ark was actually
a saucer-shaped vehicle
(like alien craft on the cover
of an
Amazing Stories 50s Sci-Fi
magazine)

nothing more lewd or leering
than one of those aliens
desperate for
    the feeling of humanoid
tits and shit

and me making all sorts
of irreverent and disgusting
sexual puns
        during the entirety of
her discourse

obviously not the kind of
civilized fore and interplay
that would lead
      with neat evolutionary
procreative logic

to our own little
trans-linguistic
         conjugation

and most
intimate and
         nearest thing

to
cosmic encounter of
way more
   than three-dimensional kind