Tag Archives: humanity

SONG OF INNOCENCE

SONG OF INNOCENCE

there are no
innocent poets
poets who are innocent

no innocent poems
no innocent poetry
no state
of innocence or
rest
   for poetry

find me the poem
that does not distance itself
from but supports
this insanity

the nore so now
since our words got sharp, learnt
to speak for themselves

transport themselves
wheresoever
        they desire

angry beyond measure;
armed to the teeth

FRESH FRUIT

FRESH FRUIT

On the farm
I wonder

about the ideology
of a tree

the entire tree:
roots, leaves, branches

cannot
escape asking myself
what haiku currently
courses
   through the flowers

Of course
    this is (dear reader, I
do recognise) a
category
   mistake
of the first order, and will
no doubt, none too late,
be brought
   to my attention amidst
much
  wild snarling

and thus forgive me
my contextualizing in a poem
how much theory
pervades
        everything (truly
it is in
its nature
    to be an invasive species)

and Fall and Autumn and
all those mellow feelings
much
   written about

some ode or other
      that leaf to dead leaf
is
  remembered

all the wherefores and whys
as to how
  this system getting greener
came
   not just
    to be but
into conscious being

ruthless and polite both
stuck in a rut this day whilst
supposed
    of infinite variety

and my voice
     estranged, coming back

to me alien

as if
   freshly arrived, in awe of
all capacity to
shift the
      word of perspective

see things differently.
   

JOY

JOY

a god walks the stage
the world in
a state of wonder,
state of fright

loses; forgets
its words

as above
     so below

jets and drones
contest the sky

we are below, suffering watching
unless the god
rescinds his
refusal to elevate us

teaches us that which we need
to scoff at this war
thess wars
   elevated to the stars

the words that turn
a world streaming out
from under that mask

direct from Olympus, words
to drive insane, turn
upside down

flood with intense
laughter and pain

dark understanding
filled with divine joy

so far beneath him
this thing they
will eventually call
history
terrible in its
            truth

  a god walks the stage

EQUATOR

EQUATOR

forget boundaries
forget enclosures

here
there are no
prisons for the body
of the soul

there is wide expanse
open sky only

boundless
       across the page
between the lines
each and every

three sixty degrees
meridian and back
from pole to pole
         twice across
the equator

planet
to galaxy
ocean to ocean

from
the river

to the sea

ICARUS INSTINCT

ICARUS INSTINCT

I barged into
the temple of
artificial intelligence

stormed out
after dismantling and
indeed liberating
a host of automatic
telling
and vending machines

flew up to the firmament
with the eye for aeronautics
of an ancient Daedalus
deluxe

soaring Sun-ward like his son
determined that the destiny
should be
becoming child
of the cosmos beyond which
no sense to aspire.

EMILY SYNDROME

EMILY SYNDROME

stuck some poems
in a folder
    ready for revision
(Oh,
     happy day!)

left them not
so long but
long
   longer than
intended

albeit without Sun
or air or
indeed watering
at all

so imagine my delight shock
and horror that
day of
   days, moment
of reopening

when found the little bastards
to have thrived
and multiplied, some

even grown in size
to embrace the gamut
from
     split little
atom through to
       Pandora of expanding universe

poem growing up
prophetic,
apocalyptic
      
            whispering, screeching
to the Universe

their
    primal truth as mirror
and
testimony (dear
reader)

to all
   expanding size