poem poetry – poems 2 die for

THE SPECIES FROM THE MOMENT THEY ARE BORN

THE SPECIES FROM
THE MOMENT THEY
ARE BORN

for a few days
they are pathetic
but
those predator
genes kick in

few days looking
shaking my head
at the supreme irony
of their mousiness

but then things are
are unfolded, edges
angles appear

stuff that
pound for pound
(or rather, ounce
for ounce)
outranks almost everything
for kill rate attack
speed, general
deadliness
reaction time faster
than cobra, faster
than tiger

you see it, time it,
and simply cannot believe

and how
they carry this
inside
a fur scabbard sheathed
in cuddliness,
yet that walk is just
sheer femme fatale
including
the masculine ones,
pure Chicago Tommy-gun
their sisters
more inclined
to snipe on the hunt
with telescopic sights

still not
of our hearts complete
conquistadors
but
their quirks and wiles
that first,
twelve thousand years
ago might have
made us
smile

now tipping us
over the edge into
adulation,
cult fascination

finding here
an alien craziness
to
complement
our own

so hard-wired to
perform
in ways so familiar
and yet
so long content to
be totally in the dark
about
but at last
making inroads

beginning to understand
this odd, relentlessly
expanding sort
of perfect
match near
complete jigsaw to
jigsaw puzzling fit

as we watch
these day olds feed
get told who we are and

why
we need to
constantly reminded

who it was
came to the party
discussed conditions
and terms

agreed, they believe,
by all by
unanimous show
of hand and paw

valid
for what feels
like eternity

SUCH WORDS ENRICH EVERYTHING

truffle
trifle
kerfuffle
trouble with tribbles

such words
enrich everything:
entice,
entrap

create new worlds
and get you
locked into them

let me mathematically model
our relationship, as we
compare and contrast
ourselves to
the automobile, Lamborghini,
Ferrari, most
beloved invention
known to
man

but as car
we go
one further: such
immaculate tuning, engine
that needs
to run on
essential oils to
take good care of itself

where
when it comes to ignition
nought to
three hundred in
way less than sixty

to outdo that
you have to go F-16, F-18,
say goodbye
to Bugatti Veron

but less of this
heading towards story
of the Great Man
heading at speed
huge velocity aware from
steering clear
of that
particular interpretation
going through the gears
sliding
through the S bends
and shooting through the chicane

truffle
trifle
tiffle
kerfuffle
ruffle
rifle
riddle

such words empower
do their thing for you
fast feed
from a clip with
the majesty of
a Kalashnikov

as with all
things that are forever,
constantly recurring

such supreme mechanical
beauty in the endurance
of this machine
coupled with
rate of fire

SPEAK FOR MYSELF

and so
forced to acclimatize
we connected the dots
got the big picture

which of course
did not in any way say
was there
on the inside wheedling
whittling away

and so
in some city state
a ferocious text about
to launch itself
take flight
savage monarchy
and religion

a new
kind of villain at the stage door

and me, despite my
best instincts, being
pushed in a direction
curiously reptilian

burning eyes
blue tongue

pockets for poisons and
concealed array
of daggers

the darkness of forest
overgrown uncomfortably
close to the throne

WHAT TO MAKE OF THIS

Oh, what
to make of this

all those inbred crazy
arguments from analogy

conclusion being
there we have it
shut all your doors
batten the hatches
and set sail

ten strike fleets with carriers
all integrated into one
ultimate bipartisan armada

each carrier
reminding us of
great
snd not so
great Presidents

contained, perfectly
preserved within
a bubble

total logical technological wholesale impossibility
rather
the stars collapse

high ceiling
caves in.

OVERNIGHT

Decided you all deserve to be scared out of your wits now WW3 starting in the next few days is probably in the region of a 99.99% certainty.
OVERNIGHT

after the war
I found myself
to have spider legs
and tentacles
a thousand eyes

which would have made it difficult to prove my identity,
nationality not
to speak of humanity

a sitting target for homeland
security
except there
is no homeland

and if anyone comes this way
calling me
into question
will be
the very definition
of a suicide mission

gone in thirty
microseconds
having written thirty poems
a novel, and the
definitive history
of this
the last human
armed conflict
(armed
conflict, without arms)

overnight genetic mutation
having
some advantages,
no way entirely and
absolutely
necessarily a
world ending thing

TEMPLATE

and there
we have it

Adam and Eve
our prize pair
hand in hand as
buildings explode
destroying
the capitalist economy

breaking the first law
of Fight Club
by being
in a film about it

not keeping us waiting
all that long
here they are locked
in an embrace
alien DNA hybridizing them
as the film
leaves us
teasingly with it quietly unresolved
whether humanity will
survive or this,
somewhat strange, slightly unearthly love
will be their
seemingly doomed relationship’s
salvation, and this
being the case will be,
as the very
title of the film
suggests,
our annihilation

i can imagine A and E
constantly being
reinterpreted, rediscovered,
rewritten, revolutionized,
forever looping
through (and across) time
shuffling the card decks that
determine
class, genus
and genre

transformed into the new
archetypes here
to dictate
all our templates

even as
   we bear them, carry them
ahead of us, with us,
there
   to inscribe
a perfect palimpsest of
every broken connection,
relationship and
     association of our kind

IMMANENCE

oh the beauty of that innocence
pure cerulean of celestial sky

no alphabet
before algebra

so no sense and therefore
no fear of darkness, aberration,
abyss, shadow

the code
so clear, the space so
safe
no need to think ourselves
into the algorithms
of sanctity
and protection

and yet
     how might abundance
love
   define themselves
in the absence
of other,
     without antithesis?

the sky so pure
in its blue
turning
tourmaline

the creatures mute
to our
failing, our
destined misstep

drowning in an endless,
forever
emergent wisdom
we can never
now unlearn

HAVEN’T GOT (A CLUEDO)

deduced it in no
time

saw it clearly it was
either Plum that went
shapeshifter
eliding, gliding
between
the kitchen (pots
still greasy)
and the games room

turning up at the table
through
the fourth wall

or could be
Mustard, that die-
hard Imperialist with the
old Western front Vickers
water
-cooled machine gun

defending the pantry against
whatever
latest horde of savages

took out Ms Scarlett and
Ms White

ebony and ivory in
their delightful negligees

wandering aimless into
his line of sight
in persuance of
their tryst

or Green could have done it
C of E but some old Catholicism
at root there adding a twist of hemlock

to that holy wine
(cardinal
not working out, we’ll
smoke that
one out
bring in another)

or someone in the garage
with rolls royce style
handy wrench call murder murder

a spade a spade

a wrench a bloody brain-
fragment spattered wrench

and me
with my candle card yet again

with
such bad eyesight
cannot make out a thing

ODDER EVEN

your biology
is odd

feels smells, looks,
tastes, appears odd

so
despite what I did write
you are reading this differently

as for me
my DNA is more
screwed up
than yours

I am far less viable
have evolved into poetry

my whole
biology
so much odder
even odder, odder even

and even as I write even
as you read

I am changing everything
making it odder,
different completely

WORD (ABOUT MINDING MY WORDS)

WORD (ABOUT
MINDING MY WORDS)

got reported
Gestapoed

someone snitched
on me to
the Institute of Poetry

which
in its wisdom
commissioned a
whole delegation

sent
them trooping
in through my door

here to
   “have a word” came
the proclamation
riot act read
   right
     of intervention

silly me
to have expected a style-fest
as for apparel,
sequins and feathers, breast-.
plates and
leather

and, Oh My God, hats:
stetsons and Panamas, hombergs,
berets and trilbies
(the odd
Mr Plod helmet kind
of thrown in
for
good measure)

something akin to
the madcap extremes of a
Gaultier or Mugler

not this gravel gray, matt
black sundae of
mundane business
managers

well-suited to shut down,
perfect for
repression

apt for no-nonsense
straight talk laying
down the law
demandibg
I cease
and desist promptly

arrow-straight and professional
telling me
without slightest latitude
opening
for latitude, ambiguity,
space to maneuver

to
mind my
words

if I do know what is good for me,
care about the future of poetry