BATTLEFIELD
butterfly
fluttered over
the battlefield
trench war
combined arms
cyber war
tanks
versus chlldren
butterfly was looking
for someome, anyone
to give some
kind of explanation
but we
are humanity
we kill in the name of
all we hold dear
incapable of
the art of transormation
COUNT
count
every atom
every drop
of blood
every grain of sand
count every blade of grass
how they blow
in the wind like
a feast of sabres
a forest
of tiny spears
read
these words
the desert itself
wrote for you
(what an ear
the people of
the desert
have for
the voice
of God
absolute pitch
when it comes
to the poetry of the soul
read what is written
read what
has been hidden
read the Sun, the stars
the Moon
waxing waning
now
a perfect crescent
read
and count
find a rhythm, your rhythm
calculate all distances
devise
the algorithms
for perfect measure
ditto
and Amen
ditto and Amen
this tale continues
despite our failings, despite
our hatreds
out tragic divisions
the words of the Sufis
written in the stars
connecting every blade
of grass
drop of blood
grain of sand
ditto and Amen
every atom
count, read, measure
BIRD
bird asked me
about human intelligence
wondered how
when we got wings
we became
such murderous beings
dropping two thousand
pounds of ultra high explosive
on a child lest
she grow up
not having been
denied the experience
to think for herself
speak
the truth and other
incalculably bad things
FAIR PROPORTION
they bring the hybrid
to his cell
she needs to talk to him
since species-wise she
has a fair proportion
of his genetic makeup
here she is
for what it’s worth
I agreed to meet her
hard to figure out
exactly what
is human
but one must
presume
it is there
so this is it
this is in me, embodiment
of what I am
capable
the likeness is
there but everything
about him
seems guarded, hidden
as if he instinctively realizes
all that is terrible in
his capacity
all that
can be wrong, go wrong,
and he did terrible wrong
she aaked to talk to him
get answers to questions
she felt she needed
answers to, for her
crucially important
so she could figure out
for herself what is them
what is us
we talk
She is so insistent in
going over things, knowing details,
minutiae, everything
exactly
I look at him one lsst time
try to see through those eyes
(I do not have human eyes
to me they
are untrustworthy,
thoroughly upsetting)
I want to tell.him.
he might have, ought to,
have sought forgiveness
for his crimes, these
humsn crimes
senze
a moment– out of nowhere
of grace
and dignity
so I leave with a wish
that he finds courage and
composure at his execution
having killed so many of
my people, pure and hybrid,
so different and yet
who knows how close
in what is felt inside.
She leaves the cell. We
ask no questions. What
hopes she has, what
reassurance she found
is hers alone. We
should not enquire.
SUPER BOWL POEM
woke up
in time to hold off
on the SuperBowl result
worst fears confirmed when
I summoned up courage
to check
yep Brock loves God
but Brock loves
Patrick Mahomes
(does not seem
to care much about
Head Coach Kyle Shanahan)
and at this
juncture, out of the blue,
an unruly host of
archetypes made their move
wanted to stick
around a bit, get
the lie
of the land in the process
of passing through me
a mad mosaic it was
for a while
many shapes and
sizes, manners and
demeanours
jostling up against each other
(Brownian motion)
excanging, debating,
doing their
dialectic dance, analysis
synthesis
no homogenizing
and there I was in a carnivalesque dream
chatting to the players in
St Francis’ kingdom
of those elevated
high above
the realms
of material wealth
peering into the abyss that
a philosopher cum psychologist
had laid
before me
a tablet broken with the
entire script jagged
and there on the road
a burnt out humvee
and there in the docks
a rusting destroyer
archetypes at home within
settling
for a game of solitaire
and me
thinking, wondering,
who does have a
prophetic bone in this
my body
is winning everything?
and if it is not
will there ever
indeed
be an end to war?
GIMME
world’s
falling apart
little children
getting blown
to
smithereens
so gimme that
sweet false consciousness
that would come
with a
SuperBowl victory
don’t let Mahomes
spoil everything
with
an insane overtime
charge
this after Kyle left
his best laid plans
in a briefcase
in the
locker room
this is not
the script I want,
I need
so write me a new one
bring me that
thick syrupy delusion
that a Niners’
Vegas victory
would bring
the world falling apart
bits
of little
children
how come I always get
caught this way
how come
I’m not
so smart
AND BEYOND
happily
we are
expanding the war
extending the fighting
throughout
to whole region
taking on
every axis of resistance
axis of evil
allowing the entire
government, every
politician to
wallow in
power
play
at battle
extend expand
the conflict
across the globe
to the edges
of ths galaxy
killing boldly
where no one
has ever killed before
for
all eternity
to infinity
and beyond
IN PRAISE OF
SACRIFICE
people will
fight for truth
be nobly
martyred
but how much more
strongly, happily,
forcefully
fanatically
they will
fight for lies
the bigger the lie
the bigger the sacrifice
DAVID
if you are
the David in
this great battle
why
are you slaughtering
all the poets?
if you are Solomon
with so much wisdom
to bestow upon humanity
why are you
flattening all the universities
burning the archives?
watching as
culture and history goes
up
in smoke
or dancing
around the flames
IMCOMPLETE
do not learn
we never
learn
what have we
learnt?
don’t hold back
just
let rip
tell me
tell me!
look at me
pay careful attention
thorough scrutiny
all those years
gone to waste
sitting down
lying down
standing up
writing something
learning nothing
what in here
worth speaking?
out there
worth reading?
what
good are books
when there are tanks
in the street?
indiscriminate slaughter
clearing a path house
to house
room
to room
every alley
every precinct
this book of horrors
as yet unwritten
as yet incomplete
one two
three four;
every paragraph
breaking
every wall
poems 2 die for