poem poetry – Page 3 – poems 2 die for

WOBBLE

apologies
for the speed
wobble

but have got
fully pedal to the metal
watch them
all vanish
in the rear
view mirror

Plato, Aristotle
Jesus, Buddha, Nietzsche
all those great philosophies,
species dreams

fascism, dystopia,
cyborg reality, looming up
ahead
trying to
millionaire there
quantum disentangle, hit
light speed if possible

all a blur
crazy psychedelic sensation

soon
you will
feel the doom

really get
to the core

be one
with the rule
of iron
over chaos

ride the great wave
final seismic shift

DIAL FIVE

dial one
to dial back the intrusion

dial two
for communicating inhibiting
solar flare
or pulse

or one of those bombs
to create electro-magnetic havoc

dial three
for nice-sized asteroid
take out your switchboard
once
and for all
do the trick

dial four
for twenty eight day after
virulent
zombie plague bacillus
leave you
guys
feeling

not quite
yourselves

dial five
for perfect payback
catch a bullet to
shut you up
stop you
phoning for good

dial six
for the offer
you just can’t refuse

TESLA

the light
transmigrates

was here
now there

st that speed
knows neither
time
nor distance

even
that wizard Nikola
Tesla
cannot
catch it, stop
it telexing itself

from point
to point

suffusing the darkness,
waving goodbye
at the moment
of arrival

keeping you guessing

beyond the possibility
of infinite circuitry

MOSTLY

“They come out at night. Mostly.” ALIENS (1986) (dir: James Cameron)

so quiet
almost peaceful

in space
a hydrogen bomb drops
fast as a feather
equally silent

here however
our parents together
gambollihg in the garden

innocent
unfallen

not even
a grazed knee

everything on course
ticking like an Swiss watch

ticking
also
somewhere down there
way beneath their feet

something in
the rock and stone
down below the earth of Eden
that nourishes everything

shedding heavy particles
yet
no need for caution, nothing
yet to worry about

and there
to one side
a much disgruntled, disfigured figure

recent transformation
put him in the arcana
rendered him archetypal

whose tale
could be more cautionary

whose loss
the stuff
of insanity

and yet the flicker of a smile
a flash, a spark
and with it
a vision
of annihilation
.
countdown close
ending begun

EYELINE

my eyes
slowly adjusting
to the darkness

yet in the same darkness
my mind going
billion percent Lovecraft
gone
in thirty seconds

imagining every
conceivable category
of inconceivably
ghoulish beings

and most
truly terrifying thing
of a writer
one who
lives and
dies
by imagination

no paper
no pen

not a scrap or
stub at all

UNDER SCRUTINY

will it all
bear scrutiny?

I have also
drooled over these
Michelin star hotels
and restaurants

hoping that they will survive
that you will not
summon me to
destroy

such
a golden circle of elegance

haute couture people
dining haute cuisine

too exquisite one feels
for them to ever to
be put
to my diabolical test

force them to answer
my ultimate question

subject them to such a
basic law of mass
and speed

turning the heat up
on their politics, empathy,
economic principles

a tad below that
of a million suns

WHERE FROM HERE

we lie together

when
we lay together
made love

it was
a moment of truth

intoxicated by desire
yet such
sharp clarity

we lie together
wondering secretly,
privately

where
do we go from here?

DEEP

escalator
went up

up
up
up

forward
reverse

it’s axiomatic
elevator went
down

down down down

skipping circles
of good

ploughing
through axes of evil

down through
every cellar, basement,
bunker
ever built

through the deepest
mine of all
on the
golden
Witwatersrand reef

deeper than a anything
that ever went
China Syndrome

deep and
deeper still

never to bottom out

WHEN MARCUS CRASSUS

when Marcus Crassus
died in battle
everybody wept
the grief
shook Rome

the whole
city consumed
by sadness

slaves being tortured
prisoners crucified

took time
out of their suffering
to make sure
they found time
to weep

gangs patrolling the Subura
to ensure there
would not
be a single
soul
failing to
feel heartbroken

for if the gods
could not fail to be
grief stricken
how not
mere mortals?

so tragic that one
so rich and powerfully
should be put
to death so aptly
suffer
so horribly

so wrongful a vengeance
so totally
beyond the pale
of social justice

COSMOLOGY

a magical alluring mystery
spectacle

almosr too far away
for light to travel

your dance of seven veils
alluding
to our source tempting
our return
.
and me in the back row
with much undersized telescope
longing for the front row
a window seat
somewhere close relatively
speaking
where at least I feel I
can reach out and touch

this routine so exactly
choreographed, yet primal
and chaotic
is thing you have wanted
me to witness
for billions
of yesrs

but the laws that say I am
a bit underaged to be
witnessing this
let alone understand it

tell you that
your moves are slowing
getting stretched out
breaking
dissolving

and this I can see
hear explained by
cosmic dude on
my cellphone (Cox,
Greene, Kaku, Hawking or Tyson)

time will come
when you have Medusaed
yourself
are iron cold and
a statute

and me, as
for me

long long before then
will have deserted the scene
me and my
world well
out of popcorn

this great gorgeous
cinema a thing
of the past (though
no future or past)