poetry – Page 173 – poems 2 die for

WHITEBOARD

WHITEBOARD

I see
two pictures

of a
whiteboard

believe
they have been
decontextualized

all the blood
washed away.

CASCADE weaponize this poem harshly weaponize it softly need to defend the indefensible suck good blood truth (and hashtag) out of my thumb opposable entity, fattest of fingers and hey hey Deleuze happy hanaka Hegel me in line with arm raised high to deflect legal contention from terror, my accomplice me now in bed waiting for breakfast, as simple as a one slice two slice open-face sandwich making for an interesting dialectic, however you elect to interpret reader writer master slave blurring of these categories, until, who knows?, look to the East! Look to the South! maybe a cascade

SANCTUARV

SANCTUARV give my safe place far from your safe place for you have made me the antithesis of your identity essential for your entire meaning of self opposition without which you could not ezist

BY THEIR FRUIT

I have such trouble
writing this poem

my words swell fat
like overripe fruit
burst on
my page, on my fingers

covering everything with
sap wet, thick
and sticky

in colour and feel
indistinguishable from blood

and these
are the same words
the golden children of the law
use in the court room

where
such words do
not explode, do not
shatter the auditorium
with blood-juice
and bomb shrapnel

proving
(sadly, sadly)

that there will always be something about poems, about

poets
and the power
of their poetry

that remains forever
at a distance

tragically unreal

WARRIOR

WARRIOR raw farmer land stealer we that being the writers and intellectuals that survive will divest you of that coat of light dump true dark self in the dock ship you off far far away where you dare hurt nobody get you to sit in solitary explain yourself to yourself dark and light selves in their bitter final conflict

FUNCTION

the weather comes
a volcano blows

climate changes
bringing
Vikings

brutal monsters
from.the North
in my genes
in my blood

and now
the rain

has gone
insne

my only hope
it is raining like this
across the globe

every soldier
drenched to
his her skin

unable
to function

the way I sometimes wish
they were always meant to be

STORY

it’s your story
so stick to it

you need a good story
a whopper to turn

a blind eye
to all
this suffering

listen to those on
the screen who
carefully explain

see
how they attack you
when you can
no longer
believe

so much suffering
but suffering is transitory

we all
suffer

suffering is unreal

now we have
that out of the way
stick to your principles, be one
of the staunch
supporters
good
upright people

It’s your story
and you’re
sticking to it

how you
would suffer
if they took that away

MONSTERS

they are human
like you and me

all of us human
in our
monstrous
capacity

should have said I
and you
were right

to stop me
dead in my tracks
grammatically

something’s need
correcting

are
beyond poetry

TEMPLE TUNE

Odd you should miss it

how you estranged us
lifted up the carpet
pulled back the curtain

suddenly
showed everything

and all that history,
that mythology
came
tumbling down

something ingrained here
about the Sampson option

bringing the temple crashing
about you heads

sadly forgetting
these are
our heads too
our heads too

we were part
of that story

but now we see it for
what it is

a wild, psychotic dream
danger to humanity

HEAD CASE

HEAD CASE decided today I’m on rock star time feel OK to do so relatively safe will think a few hours come up with a concept for my album go to sleep wake up with all the riffs and chords written in my head