Tag Archives: poem

PHOTOELECTRIC

PHOTOELECTRIC

here I am
discover myself

awash in light
playing with
your photons

each so
beady-eyed

getting entangled
as I try for a mosaic

let there be
            care

                        how
this is done

suddenly your beauty
out
   of nowhere

shatter my faith in
                   all that is

abstract
     transcendental

saving me from
     consummation

of word
           deciding

on necessity
of flesh

REASON BEING

REASON BEING

this is the reason
why I am not a physicist

nothing more Newton
than being wired
to the lesson
stapled to
the desk

truth in the atom
and how it is chained

something other
out there
beyond classroom, playground
scrambling the shit out of me

something outside inside
tunneling between

whilst these vectors are
regular, could not
be more confident

iron balls on a slope what
have we missed
in fact?

will take a bit of
crazy
to find this realm
as poetry

very different, other world,
melting, reforming
shaping
reforming melting again, forever changing

only world we have

listening to Professor Rovelli
discoursing here so sweetly

chat to
my chotbot about all this

another
trick of consciousness

AI poem in the style of Shakespeare: South Africa taking Israel to the ICJ

In lands afar, where shadows cast their veil,
South Africa strides, justice to unveil.
With heart resolute, they march to the fray,
Taking Israel to court, to have their say.

As rugby kings, and champions of right,
They face the champions of woeful blight.
Oh, how the irony sings in the air,
How shall Israel maneuver, now, to bear?

With twisted tongues, they’ll surely plead their case,
Beguiling words, their deeds they shall embrace.
Yet, in this court, a reckoning awaits,
Where justice’s scales shall decide their fates.

For Gaza’s plight, the world’s tears they’ve shed,
In this epic clash, hope shall rise, not dread.
From Shakespeare’s quill, new scenes shall now unfurl,
As justice fights against a twisted world.

WATER SIGN

WATER SIGN

sometimes
I hate
sensitivity

you
make me
hate
sensitivity

lying aghast
across your
tear-stained
bed
waiting for
that special
someone

special
anyone

and me
so close yet
out
   of the picture

that body so lovely
eyes that blaze

waiting
    waiting

for who? for
what
     I wonder

out of the picture
with this
      poem, this poetry,
must have something
                          to do
  

IN CONJUNCTION

IN CONJUNCTION

perfunctory
matter-of-factual

lowest
common denominator
recurring (hexi) decimal

super-accurate
orgasm you may measure
with a micrometer
seismically

and still the longing
insatiable to rummage
through
    your toolbox

plough
through your belongings

wondering what gloss
you going to give this

what
star alignment you will find
stellar conjunction

      Oh so Mars, Venus, Mars
Mercury

perfectly planetary?

A CLUEDO (HAVEN’T GOT)

A CLUEDO (HAVEN’T GOT)

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