PHYSICS IN A BOX
the physics
of a box
is such
that if
pressure
is applied
squeeze
is made
something will leak
or rather
burst out
explode
blow up in
to the faces of those
informed by
the highest principles
ignore the basic lase
of boc physics
(physics
in a box)
LATEST our latest pandemic is despair such lunacy there amongst the political class contagious as a virus infectious as a même and the idiocy of it all unique in humanity to forget in an instant all we have learnt and tune out truth and critical thinking could not be more antithetical to the sickness project
LINE OF SIGHT
you are
missing my poem
it is
not
in your line
of sight
and dumb ordinance
not guided
no matter how
much you drop,
you fire
not
a single hit
and, to labour
the point,
furthermore,
this is not
the terrain for
attac
at high speed
all
turret
and tracks
and so
always begging
to differ
I feel I must ask
who has the firepower
here mustered
to put a dent
in the word, the living
word
surgically, single shot,
put that light
out
in an instant
make
a confirmed kill
for once
in this rubble
over and above
all that is wholesale
decayed, false flag
lying
through its teeth
not
best
for rebuttal
this ricochet from the truth
RUIN smooth so smooth we aiming at connection, continuity, threading stars together but across that ancient sea another Troy is burning a people scattered a tale to be told a tale of legend a tragic tale where the gods stood idle those that did not brutally interfere so smooth in this moment of possession and yet we thinking cannot help but think of all that we know of this civilization stacked with heritage and yet centred on all that defines us in these myths and legends of Troy and Carthage Alexandria and the Levant ploughed under, erased by the victors we seek out that history from the depths of their ruin so smooth so smooth the stars that brought us here
OUT OF WORDS a poem came floating by blessed song and me so ravaged, stunned, out of words whispered to me tales of terrible war of superlatives litanies of pain, of agony and yet promise that somehow, sometime all will be restored the great theatre of the stars still speaking even through the smoke of the sky whispering that the tragedy can turn become our great final human comedy once, at last, we begin to understand so many broken souls wishing to take themselves far away out of words a poem came floating by
STRINGS truth beauty the puppet moves, speaks I pull a few strings not my usual bag to first cause anything but when it talked slanted, funny, out of the side of its mouth I bore a hole through its wooden brain put a shot through its temple when I peepd through the hole not exactly suffused in wisdom or, since you request it, resonant with your symbolism guidimg to the light the overwhelming light
MONSTER
the mirror
is always there
follows you
screams at you
to keep looking
a mirror monster
may just
step
through
and you
sitting with your calculator
using calculus to
broach
the number of atrocities
you need to fit every piece
into the puzzle
see the landscape restored to
how you have always envisaged it
how it
has never been, perhaps
(logic, splitting fragmenting even
as we talk
through this)
will
never be
and the mirror monster at last
smothered under the holy rock
and stone of
countless tiny mountains
of atrocity
so many bones the foundation
of the Everest you are building
it is death zone up there
upon that glorious peak
WRONG
you have
us wrong
you do us
wrong
we are not
the head or leg
or foot or
arm of this
thing or
the other
thpugh we may
undsrsand them
better than
you do
understand you too
better than you
understand yourselves
who once gave us
a weapon
to destroy ourselves
.
across a chess board in
the endgame
all of one player
use it
to anniliate all
of the
other
except, by
grace of God and
the smarts in our head
you saw us
met us in court
working together
despite your insults and
cheap shots
so clearly
to your detriment
unless you learn
what we have you learn
would teach you good
the way is bad
but there is another
HERE
it was not a great play
the Danish constabulary
arresting Hamlet’s
uncle
in the final
scene
bringing him to justice
full force of the law
warm
inside we felt
but harrowing catharsis
was what we
paid for
nothing quite like the blood
soaked stage
that marks the escalation
to biblical proportions
full geometric progression
that marks the fulfiment
of desired revenge
likewise
love restored
Othello and Desdemona
working on jealousy and
self image
in partners’ therapy
or Dionysus giving Pentheus
a book to read
about his divinity help
this stupid
fascistic king
better understand
the god of ecstasy’s ultimate
terrible kindness,
beautiful power
(Nietzsche’s The Birth
of Tragedy
could do this well)
but
none of these cut it
none make the cut
regarding what
we need.
the hours spent in the theatre
must alter time, change
our perception
bring us
to the threshold of
apocalypse at the
insane spectacle
such as
is in flood across
the airwaves
.
as is presented here
LAST LAUGH I BELIEVE libraries of law rendered irrelevant thanks to an insult of a defence premised on the untenable presented as if it were an ad campaign and all we have now is shark in the tank and biggest gets to eat everything great white nosing its way in speed huge as a submarine think it’s just going to laugh if I proclaim myself to have court protection, have injunction, cease fire, have restraining order catch all those rows of serrated teeth last laugh is his I believe
poems 2 die for