poem – Page 174 – poems 2 die for

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

ENOUGH

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

ABOUT GAZA

I wanted to
talk to you
about Gaza

because there
is so much confusion
about where you stand

you fill my head
with all these poems
so much
poetry

no use to anybody
poems that all those
who proclaim themselves
your most beloved

would say, do not
bear analysis, are
not worth the reading
are the product
of your antithesis
are openly blaspheming

and they are right
of course they are right

no point in my
attacking them, sanitizing them
throwing the proverbial
poetic kitchen sink
at them

in the name of the children
their shells
and bombs
are maiming, killing