Tag Archives: poetry

DIPLOMACY

I came across
the President
playing diplomacy

he was deploying
a sharpie to
change the lines
on the board

shouting down
his opponents with
his incredible
logical mastery and
Verbal power none
dare withstand

and every one
was with him
his whole
nation
got his back

told those opponents
arrogant enough
to imagine
they have
the stuff to challenge him

should he lose, they
not let
him win

they would beg
him
    pass the order
executive
for DEFCON ONE

their revenge
the sweetest even
if they all died.

PIECE OF THE PUZZLE

A poem is a window
of opportunity

and through this window we can see

that the Sun is a dunce
in a starfish ruff
making a meal of
crab-like offspring.

No one can tell
in the absurdity of deportment

whether he is
in opposition or
conjunction entirely.

Yet
on his watch

the dolphins are
doing themselves proud
in the statements of relevance

sewing the seam of an onrushing       wave-
                                           mountain

their far needle-bodies
                        zagging and zigging

making a nonsense of the
sky’s reservations
it is
     my considered poetic belief.
                                      

IF ONLY (LIFE WERE LIKE AN INDIE MOVIE)

they put a poet
on reality television

gave him
all of sixty seconds to come up
with a, rhyme

I was not invited
into the studio
did not get
to witness the programme

but I think I am up
to imagining how it must end

the poet
dies (of course)
from loneliness, or whatever,
but that
sixty second poem
gets over its grief

the audience overdosing
on sudden one
night stand leading
to celebrity
and Hollywood happily ever after

serious sugary white
powder hit that elevates
so high no one
is, ever going to recover from

underpinning
that great existential truth
bringing it
down from the mountain

that
nowhere in this script
is there provision for
found soulmates
riding
off bareback,
without saddle. into the sunset

life being
mere rehearsal for what
gets shot for the big screen

..
…

TUT TODT

my parents

once young
now elderly

now
dead

demanded on
a daily basis
I be respectful
write nicely

cherish every moment
of what they did to
(sorry, did for) me

keep that overwhelming love
I felt and showed
when I was young
         the love of
one
who could not
have been more wrong
could not
have been more
useless

Oh, those gaslit days,
chip off the old block
determined
to
shape me as

strange how
time takes, took,
eviscerates
all that 1940s
dapper Dachau elegance

like demure store-front mannequins
neat in their flexible
moment of life’s capture

waiting
upon the rapture of bone

force
to split a dove

tut todt
you would be shocked
to know
     how you
are remembered

beyond your pay grade;
beyond your conception