Tag Archives: poem

THE SIGNS WERE ALWAYS THERE

the signs
were always there

freaky fractals spiralling
out of control now
turning
    all and sundry deadly
dystopian

how might we avoid
all that predetermines
a future so dire

was thinking tapestry but
the cloth tore
    got shredded and now
we must live as
part of
a patchwork, bleak
winter tragedy

luxury liner-ing away
but all that
was scuttled and we
are clinging to lifeboats

survival here dictated
by exigencies of class

the water a green brown
emulsion, putrid
oily

  who knows what creature
mutations now face us
things having
    to change to survive

crazy as it sounds I
still have space for laughter

I hear it
gurgling
    from gullet to
mouth tones there both
of bitter
   contempt and tragic
appreciation

pull it apart
     dissect it piece by piece
in furtherance
of analysis

nothing in truth
there new to learn
   the signs were always there

TOTEM

I shut down
all my memories
of my childhood
and the place
I was born

had to do so
because they
had gotten
out of control
were
   overpowering me

taking me back
to a time without limbs
horrific venom.and
no ability
to walk
only slither and crawl

and there
in a bold new
brave new land

the mindful ones
wiping out rattlers and vipers
with pump-
action guns

for the land be safe and
clear and clean
not only so
but sacred
and exceptional

what was before but
a pile of bleached bones

a cairn beside a church
with
   whitewashed walls
and
from ocean
to ocean
    real regular worship

diamondback
the totem
   by which you
                     might indeed
come
    to approach me.

ENDING

there are
noises in my head
noises
in my head

stones rattling
inside a tin

and I am petrified
of what the MRI scan
will tell me

scared
   of the silence
should these stones
stop rattling
the noises
go away

leave me
flat and white sheeted
prepped for brain surgery

my eyes
dead as sapphires
filled with blank sky

before
   these noises au revoir
damned sure
I have to write them
get them
down on paper
and take everything from there

out in the sticks
civilization in the making
gathered around a camp fire

here is someone’s great ancestor’s
ancestor’s ancestor
a million times removed

thinking that stupid thought
will
    split the atom
give us
the atomic bomb
(no getting that genie
back into its bottle)

and then
     he is there too
prototype of the first to
covet what
today we
might recognize as
god-like profile

imagining a being of
sand and
ore

can talk, obey,
speak it’s own mind

and so it goes
we drink we sleep
we learn to speak

finally
    break that circle

to find (found) first cities
with towers
    and spires

the wheels of which,
slick truth of history,
bound to
    grind themselves down

no future when
all we have for ourselves
are broken axles

but
   some of
those old tall tales
yet refuse to die

have carried us through
many a terrifying, star
spangled night

clinging
    to the hope of morning
Sun returning

near infinite countdown
to end
   of time we have left

FOR ANOTHER DAY

never
want this poem to end

can swallow itself
carry on forever

this moment too
between us
             could hang around
a bit longer

but even as
    those words escaped

I noticed
you were on your way
alles klaar;
finished already

no way
    to call you back
nothing I can do
to induce
you to return
to me

induce, seduce,
reduce, produce

looking
   for the right Latin
verb to
Roman road your
ass
   home to me

who
am sadly
   so ghostly-voiced
long dead already

were
   this not the case

were all
up and running, this
on the fly
   a text I might change

be
   your agent
active

tear up

      this mess

write you one to replace
close to the bone
closer to
home

for another day;
made to measure