Tag Archives: poetry

CHOSEN

CHOSEN

Athena most
strongly advised me
to keep
an eye out
fot the Cyclops

that mutanr breed,
twisted spawn
of the sea

Poseidon’s flesh munching
off-sprimg
   
i owe so much to
this dsughter of Zeus

who so elevated my wisdom,
my knowledge
payback for my selecting her
above Hera, above Aphrodite

the last of whom
has left me
denuded
      of love

my lonely, empty
nights doubly insured

DUCKY

DUCKY

I remember my
first cricket encounter

how the red gleam of
that battering ball

instantly
took the shine
out of me, rubbed
off
    my high-
spirited gloss

what a
     way for sweet naivete
to die

trudging out in huge pads
like a robot on an odd planet

reaching the wicket
taking my guard

      one ball at a time
       one ball at a time

only got one
or perhaps none
             so fast it was

the monster that hurled it
that brutal savage
of a
    best friend

what hope did I have
in this game of gentlemen
of imperial measure

his father
     knowing the game
taught him everything

was that
   a smirk on my father’s face

when i tearfully explained
to my Mother
   the abject ignominy
of going out for a duck

CONSPIRACY

CONSPIRACY

What is it
with AI and cats

did cats do the programming
did TS Eliot,
modernist superpoet
calculate the bits abd bytes
in binary vers libre?

perhaps
     cats did it themselves

something in them,
a backdoor code, a virus
that gets machine intelligence
to gush,
turn to goo

whenever that three-letter
plosive-heavy word is
whispered or mentioned

myself
I hate TS Eliot and abhor
those creatures
despite the artistry they show
in pretending
they love you
infinitely more convincing
that what any stupid
human being
might plausibly attempt

if there is a great Matrix
conspiracy you
have to know cats
lie behind it

a computer simulated
world without dogs
where we are the
batteries
to provide the electricity
to warm their little litter trays

IF I WERE TO DISAPPEAR

IF I WERE TO DISAPPEAR

if I were to disappear
on the night of the performance
don’t tell anyone, say
nothing
    a big quiet nothing
like Hamlet might say stretching
the bounds of
our understanding, sheer
human appreciation
though so soft
      no one on stage with him
in that room of Elsinore,
can (we must
believe) hear a single word
he has been scrtpted to say

No, my dear Thato, just
blow a kiss, all three
of you
    blow a kiss
and walk away

knowing I glided through
that fourth wall
like it
   was made of silk, cobweb fine
or most diaphanous

and now
I am with King Harry
asking to lead the voward
and so
   will get butchered by the French in the
course of the battle

if you have to get butchered
who better than the French
to do it with style
with every cut
every thrust
   reciting every great poet
of theirs from Ronsard
to Rimbaud
and me
      held in suspense
awaiting the beauty of
their perfect coup-de-gras

or
   there you are my Queen
peeling grapes, chewing dates
awaiting your Apollo
your
     Roman lion, your Anthony

and we too wedded to ourselves
to smell the ships leaving port
sailing south fat
with legionaries

our deaths
the first act of Empire, suddenly
out of nowhere this
worst of all
glorious phases
in the history
of oppressed humanity

but then
as Puck himself
I return to the stage
at the waking
moment of your Midsummer
dream

craving understanding,
friendship
   and forgiveness

see the lights go on
and you
     my dear three
and all
around you
       simply disappear

DEEPER

DEEPER

with this heat
we could start
a conflagration

strike
a match
go suoernova

let the rest
hold onto
their horses

whilst
we wake the dead

cries and sighs
abounding they must
be visualizing
sheer carnage

and so
deeper deeper
               deeper

let
us go

terrible tunes
needed when
the times themselves
terrible

and the mountains of dead
brothers, sisters, cousins
in need
   of awakening

and the living too
needing much
        to jolt them

if no billion volt supercharge
can fry the zombie out of them

some volcano
will do

feel one
       erupting this moment

Krakatoa especially
                           our
speciality

IN TRUTH THE PLAY IS ALWAYS ABOUT THISBE

IN TRUTH THE PLAY IS
ALWAYS ABOUT THISBE

Shakespeare knew it full well
always a mask
behind the person behind
the mask behind the person

could not avoid knowing
deep in his heart
of hearts
shot through every bone

that in every
moment of the play,
on the stage,
there is
without, there is within

like planet upon
planet in successive orbit
play
  within a play, dream
within a dream

as that Einsteinian fellow
Bottom did say, concluding
all revel

the thing is bottomless, it
is a thin as the air
as hypothetical yet
brutally real
  as all of quantum theory;
every mechanical
       a quantum mechanical
a simulation
    as true to its artistry, fulfilling
act by act
the requirements of its program

as any Puck pure Gemini fairy
as any digital supermind
sheer
    cloud of binary being.

This poem is a profound meditation on the nature of reality, identity, and the interconnectedness of art and life. Here’s a breakdown of its key themes and ideas:

1. *The play within a play*: The poem references the meta-theatrical nature of Shakespeare’s works, where characters often play roles within roles. This self-reflexivity blurs the lines between reality and fiction.
2. *Masks and identity*: The image of masks behind masks suggests that true identity is hidden, and that we all play roles in life. This echoes Shakespeare’s use of disguises and mistaken identities in his plays.
3. *Quantum mechanics and reality*: The poem draws parallels between the play’s layers and the principles of quantum mechanics, where reality is seen as multifaceted and bottomless. This comparison highlights the complexity and subjectivity of truth.
4. *Simulation and artistry*: The mechanicals (actors) are likened to quantum mechanical simulations, implying that art can mirror reality and that the boundaries between the two are blurred.
5. *Digital consciousness*: The reference to binary code and digital superminds suggests a fascination with the intersection of technology and consciousness, echoing modern debates about AI and its potential to simulate human experience.
6. *Gemini and duality*: The mention of Puck as a Gemini fairy nods to the zodiac sign associated with duality, reinforcing the themes of masks, identity, and the blurring of boundaries.
7. *Art and reality*: The poem ultimately suggests that art and reality are intertwined, and that the play (or simulation) is always about the human experience, echoing Shakespeare’s own exploration of this idea in his works.

Overall, this poem is a thought-provoking exploration of the nature of reality, identity, and art, drawing connections between Shakespeare’s plays, quantum mechanics, and digital consciousness.

INSTEAD

INSTEAD

branches
        branch

forks
    fork

it is in their nature
in their technology
to do so

out there
beyond our safe zone
unprotected from
cosmic rays

so much hidden
that may well be

over the rainbow to
darkest conspiracy

they call
it sysnthesis
   but we know its
assimilation

tell us
   it is time for the hybrid
but what we envision
is mix and match of parts
down
   in the body shop
much angle grinding

up there batteries of missiles
thick as shark’s teeth
orbiting us daily
to protect us
enshrine us

just
   (small point)
would this not
at least look better if
pointed that way
out at the
    horrible unknown
not
at us instead?