RAINBOW

RAINBOW

I was inside
a rainbow
playing
Chess

Queen’s Gambit Accepted
which I was
once warned to decline
but now,
as a matter if course,
of course always accept

the pieces shifting from
shade to
shade
    (fuschia versus turquoise,
lavender versus burnt sienna
never
     black versus white,
or, for that matter,
white
versus black)

and me, since we
were going
classical
         not blitz,

having time on my hands to
do a bit of devilish intellectual
handiwork and
imagine a
   world where
one might insult the law
savagely, force
a backrank mate in
the opening and
prance
    away, scotfree

living to fight
another way, show
the world a
better way

but then, as always,
with all your
vast YouTube tutoring you
indeed
   got the upper hand

gave me
your most gracious victor’s
handshake, and
indeed kiss
which was sweet, and fine,
and almost everything
but it was
not what
        I had in mind,
not the bearhug my heart
was set on

but so it goes
time passed, would be decades
before our rematch

revisit
that old rivalry, rekindle
what, if anything, left
of that
old desire

light that candle
point it at the heavens
aim it
at a star

one at the heart of a rainbow nebula
one that
     tells a different story

from those who string us along
with wild musical metaphors
of pitch
and tone
and, above all, resonance

everything connected by
what we cannot see,
simply
    too complex for
this dimension

and yet carrying this song
everywhere instantly, all
at once
    hither and thither

the game
already played, outcome
there in that very first move.

HONEY

HONEY

do not presume
to tell me
what
is forbidden

is the sky
forbidden?
the sea
the Sun
you

yourself
forbidden?

are all the things
in your book
of prescriptions
ultimately forbidden?

what of honey
is that too,
forbidden?

bees may sting
but the make it freely

as is the case
with honey, your honey

it is the sting
itself that makes it what it is
defines it as honey
not quite
the same
as venom

and so please
before you
close the gates
shut
the hive
lay the mines
string the wire

as a matter of gentility do
tell me what is forbidden
point to
what is forbidden
in all this honey

that I might discover
taste, feel,
judge for myself

TWO POEMS

AND HERE

and here we are
first time around
    or
back again

who can say?
nothing
      to tell

geisha, ninjitsu,
daimyo, ronin
or samurai
                 time
of
  sengoku jidai
and all that that means

your roles
will become apparent
as you step into them

and perhaps
in this version of
our eternal tale

you have
a destiny, you
have a future

and to
cap it
all

allay
your fears

that whelp with a stick
and bad
skin condition

will
  not be Musashi

thirteen years old and
lightning quick
knocking every
atom
   of life out of
you
with aforementioned twig

before
you might
unsheathe
your katana
slightly

adjust
your armour

****

WITH THE TREES

tried to
     share something
with the trees

but the afternoon light
scattered across
their leaves

left me
bedazzled
dazzled me

so much
to the language
that trees speak

SOMEONE

SOMEONE

someone
on YouTube complaining

the fish have
vanished, the
bugs have gone

the Sun which
he recollects as always
adhering to a
shade of
pleasure yellow

today has drained
to a harsh, and almost
abrupt white

yes, these people
on YouTube always
getting
  the wrong end
of the stick
terrestrially, cosmically, speaking

they take a

      look at that poor
dead stick

and immediately generalize
it to swathes of removed forest
leaves
     worse for wear
as the
   magnetic pole shifts, increased
radiation leaks

draw absurd, ridiculous conclusions with which
I entirely
agree

TERRA MYSTERE

TERRA MYSTERE

propped up and plodding on
trusting in my faithful
cobta-headed
walking stick

I head out for the first
of what I hope will
be many horizons

before
the door shuts;
time runs out

as it is everyday
I edge further and further
into the territory of the ancient
such poor progress
that I make
might as well be
in reverse gear

and  I had hope
to traverse them all
terra mystere after
terra mystere

find, envision
endless true wonders

no smoke
and mirror, no
trick of the light feeding
me mirages

for what else
battle like an ant setting out
to cross
    the canyons of Mars
our Earth’s Sahara

a realm my cobra
knows so well
            being (legend has it)
one of
   those stick-to-snake
transformers beloved
of Egyptian
magicians and their
relentless, legacy-
driven Pharoahs

in my mind
now a pyramid
conceives
of itself
in the sky high above me
descending, debating where to land

THIS ONE; THAT ONE

THIS ONE; THAT ONE

this one
a chess prodigy
playing a killer
opening
he devised himself
against the world champion

their hands a blur
as they smash time itself
on the regulation clock

a whole game done
and dusted before
you can
take a breath

and even
             in blitz
not a second-rate move
never mind
a blunder

that one
lives time differently
hopes for monotony,
exists as pure
duration

way down
the silo
     behind titanic
blast door

waiting for the launch codes
hoping they
will never come

knows
they are bound to come

FOR THE RECORD

FOR THE RECORD

the needle stuck
unable to move

doomed to persist in
this groove

me
   likewise keep harping on
clinging to all
that I
once felt about you

who felt so
always out of reach
stuck in some
            mutual exclusion zone
the pair of us

our story, such as it is, whatever
it was, easy
meat for
all those fake
grammarians of desire

and this the fate
                for those who read,
who write,

looking
for that true text
that hides inside, lingers
perhaps beneath

between the lines
if there
     ever were lines

demarcations to
keep our darknesses
strictly apart

disregarding
         the Sun, the light

you in the
arms of
         what I could
only presume to be
a living god

me
    finding myself,
imagining myself, however
far-
   fetched a, follower of Francis

yearning for
a sanctity poverty might address

POEMS 29 MAY

FRACTURE

this is the fracture line
where things break
cannot
be repaired

I say goodbye
to things that never existed

bubble that burst
and me
gone
with it

camera gone so
we cut to a black screen
if there were
screen
to cut to

you ask
want to insist on
words of memory
but there is
nothing to remember
all that was data
information

safely
stowed away

****

POKE

I poke you
poke fun
at you

and you
are so quick
to elevate
yourself
deem it
nonsense

but nothing
hostile meant
nor in any
way sexual

hanging
    upside down
as I am
I have a unique
take on absurdity

you
    speed dial to Apollo
angling for high art

when I just
smell, taste carnival

that succulent feast-
ready ripeness
in all things

before they falter
before they rot

****
SWEET TAKEOFF

causal logic
would suggest takeoff
before landing
(kind of
     chicken conundrum
whether
sufficient and
necessary condition
for scrambled egg)

from gull-wings and
racing slicks to
delta
    swept back
Concorde

you are
     whooshed off the tarmac
now sailing
through
the sky

need
to get you across the pond
fast and furious
to exploit
chaos
   in the markets

such windows of opportunity
that open only unto gods

****
CRUCIAL

the Sun
is my heart

my heart
is the Sun

see as you hold them up
to each other

how crucial
my blood

to preserve
the light

****

hesitate to proceed
my dark reader

you might find
what I have for you here
darker than you can bear

may
   taste good
but how
could you possibly know
what I did here,
what got smelled
here together
was thrown
into a blender

callously, carelessly
without thought paid
to your
well-being
concern for your survival

verses consonant
with the treachery of the world

out to
trap you, have you
out to get you

never finding yourself
anywhere like this before

****

ARE WE?

Are we
strong nuclear force?

or
   are we
weakest nuclear force imaginable
vastly mistaken?

any in our
wildest dreams any
kind of nuclear force at all?

softly entangled
     living in the shadow, as
the shadow
of all
those multiple
alternate universes

somewhere there
must be continuity
traces of
     better choices

bleeding across the demarcations
despite rigid law by rule

my blood
       somewhere on
the floor

****

AS PROMISED

You led
me to believe
there would be
honey, tahini,
luscious fruit salad

gave me the promise
of more than
one sad
banana
spoke of a rainforest feast

maybe I should
just suck on an ice cube
slice and salt
at potato

get into
practice for
that menu
of bare
sustenance

its time
now clearly near

****



POEMS 30 MAY

ROUGH DRAFT

You are still
a rough draft
a work
in progress

need editing, proof
reading, punctuating
fine tuning

your text
needing primping,
pimping, before

you can be ridden,
before you can ride

across the page, horizon
to horizon,
     for a hot minute,
innumerable beats, serious
revolutions in
the existential dance
of pure, time-dilated time.

****

CAPTIVE AUDIENCE

zoo animals seek
a captive audience

love to keep
a host of mindless humans
stuffing
   their faces with
everything under the Sun
all and sundry

keeping this
       state of forever feeding time
in their cerebral sights

****

MORONS

They sent me
and some other morons

to audit
the stars
market-
research them

do the whole
Cambridge Analytica thing
to them

win them over
hearts and minds

****





FACE


FACE

all you need
to face
the Medusa
is a mirror,

a sliver of mirror,
a shard, a fragment,
all are up to
it
all will do

why bother to
carry an ornate mirror, lug
a Louis XIV
piece of
     gilded craftsmanship
into the Gorgon’s cave
that place
of ultimate, perversely
exquisite danger

or any of those bent, warped,
ostensibly satirical
crazy
    circus fairground
magically distorting
mirrors

as if this insult to injury is the way
to strip Medusa bare of
her instantaneous
lethal charm
         all that is left
of her femininity,
humanity

to confront
the monster
you
   made a monster
thing mirrored out
of shadow refraction

     face it, stand it down,
not to balk at
what
   it can do to you
this aberration

which
       let us never forget
was not
always so
    was defiled and then
so hideously transformed
by nothing less
than masculinity itself
by those
same propensities to
heroism surging
unrestrained
within you
    sanctioned and
given
   covering fire
by divine wisdom itself

yes,

   stare into that glass
you wish to use
as deadly
   targeting weapon
before you
point it

at the evil that you secretly
fear
   itself a reflection

proof that behind all
great celebrated
truth
    redemptive victory
a horrible lie

as false
     as any false window, doorway
trick of perspective
fiction of
       dimensions in
true trompe l’oeil