FRIEDRICH
I was getting nowhere
praying for my soul
falling by the wayside
moving further away
which exact
moment you seized
to muscle in
on me
hold a knife
to my throat
(sharpest possible
blade I do
now believe)
and, lightning lurking
in those eyes,
gave me
books of
our darkest, sweetest god
to negotiate
mugging me
in the Church
so
about to fall
situation pretty much
the same
as when
the dark god
mugged you.
GRAND MASTER
I have read
followed, listened to
so many
Grand Masters
but none
have ever addressed
the right opening
to choose
and the strategy
for the middle game
and
endgame
when playing
chess against Death
COUNT
count
every atom
every drop
of blood
every grain of sand
count every blade of grass
how they blow
in the wind like
a feast of sabres
a forest
of tiny spears
read
these words
the desert itself
wrote for you
(what an ear
the people of
the desert
have for
the voice
of God
absolute pitch
when it comes
to the poetry of the soul
read what is written
read what
has been hidden
read the Sun, the stars
the Moon
waxing waning
now
a perfect crescent
read
and count
find a rhythm, your rhythm
calculate all distances
devise
the algorithms
for perfect measure
ditto
and Amen
ditto and Amen
this tale continues
despite our failings, despite
our hatreds
out tragic divisions
the words of the Sufis
written in the stars
connecting every blade
of grass
drop of blood
grain of sand
ditto and Amen
every atom
count, read, measure
BOMBED
we tried to shout out
to the angels
but somehow our calls
failed to get through
we spoke to the mobile service providers
but they were too
caught up in billing problems
and arrangements
defaulting customers who
despite issues of legality
they need to hunt down
make
an example of, wreak
revenge upon
meanwhile the angels
hear nothing but
sounds of children
getting bombed
so much for them
to ponder
without our political
and intellectual
explanations
wondering
what the Hell exactly
is going on
poem from collection ZERO GRAVITY
WE TOO
we love to
play the language
game
we two do
come at greasing
the signifier
not
from different
poles entirely
my games with sound
and sense
more about
foregroundimg other,
difference, perhaps
a touch
of deviance
yours
(if I might
proffer
this distinction) about
what is established, believed,
holy ordinary,
sacred same
how we can get
the narrative to
go full
python
swallow the facts
(crush in its coils any
truth inconvenient)
and of course, after my little
pointless spiel
boredom, dismissal
the worst I get
the guilt that comes
with bad poetry
not, as in your case, if I
dare suggest
every kind of sick and
unconscionable paid-for
complicity
that
shades us into dystopia
thence living Hell
BARBARUS
I watched the debate
(if you could call it that)
moderated
(if you call it that)
by program host
Piers Morgan
watched in awe
the cool demeanour
of Professor Finkelstein
wish I were
that impervious to
ad hominem attacks
could behave like Norman
not Conan the Barbarian.
TRACK
am always asked
“am I
on the right track?”
you are asking this
of one
whose recurrent
anxiety dream is
being without
a ticket
on the wrong train
didn’t realize that this
was a message about
your dream
as much as it was
about my
inhibiting anxieties
when it comes to this business
clear from the start
catch
the wrong train
relax go
with the ride
flow is the direction
the only
direction
and when
the train
shuffles into the station
at this
strange destination
place where
you need to be
and can
rip
up the track
ASSURED
if it walks like a duck
quacks like a duck
must be a duck
unless
you refuse to believe
no way
it can’t be
but what if
the duck
is in a tank
firing shells
at hospital, a shelter,
a university?
what if the duck
is scoping you
and your family
working out
how the whole little
delectable loving
band of you
can be
his perfect shot?
what
about you though
no sense of duck, no
no sense of
goose
no sense of gander
no sense of where
duck becomes
a turkey
shoot
and, by definition perhaps,
equally
vice-
versa
or
where to
run to (if there
is anywhere)
who to
speak to
(everybody
ducking the question)
ducking the question
but not a hope
in Hell
of ducking
the fat
rocket
the big, big
2000 lb bomb
you standing there
in holy innocence
proclaiming
(not above the sound
of heavy
ordinance whistling)
it cannot be genocide
for
humanity
would be here to save me
if indeed it were
humanity
will save me
I am
assured
JUST EMPIRE
a just Empire
has there even
been such
a thing?
show me its Forum
and I’ll show
you it’s Colosseum
and other great gifts
to a peaceful people
show me
your just Empire
and I’ll
make a documentaty
duck the
necessary survelliance
circumvent
the censorship
tell it how it is, let
the descendants of
the founding fathers
have their
moment to extol
explain
the force that binds
that holds together
builds the roads
the naval fleets
gentle Sith, ultimate
order gurus in the Star Wars
legacy
know that force,
believe in the potency
that it instills
and their right
to share it
if not with the Universe
than at least
with the world
poems 2 die for