Tag Archives: writing

MAMBA METAPHOR

MAMBA METAPHOR

you called me
animal

   thought to
myself “that’s
a metaphor”

think I must be
an animal there just
to be stamped on
crushed, einsatzed and
gas chambered

and it is there in the script
in your vision of, and
for reality

         what you see
                      must become,
must be
even if you have to
slaughter all the children
animal children
of the rest of humanity
                     animal humanity

but my pen
       is black inked and
silver grey on the outside

its nib
     poised like a fang

ergo
    this poem, writhing and
striking
         exacting an absolute
price
from being
forced into this corner,
put in this posture
    
is a black mamba
it is my
      totem for the day
       my creature of choice

******

you called me
animal

   thought to
myself “that’s
a metaphor”

throwing linguistic
Phosphorous  in
your general direction

sticking you
     with enough drops of
neurotoxin
to kill half
         your army

I see
     you still have issues, your
anger rising

                      anger born of fear
fear clinging to
survival

that evolution is about, all about
about only
              the crushing of the weak
the triumph of the strong

so
    whilst you still can
whilst the venom is with
horrible curiosity
feeding
                    into your system
pressing
        every wrong button

throwing every wrong switch
disabling every
            vital lever

finding out
            what makes you tick
then smashing the clock

whilst we wait just a few minutes
for the demonic chemistry to work
      behind this deconstructive
procedure

just
     pass the torch on
you
     will no longer
carry

slide into prayer and
plea for vengeance from
   
                 your slick
wooden god

*****

you called me
animal

   thought to
myself “that’s
a metaphor”

       sometimes they
are wild, unpredictable

                       can cross
into reality

this in
          their nature to
follow their shadow, unleash
the dark program

remain dangerously true
to both
          species and brand

QUEEN OF INTROSPECTION

QUEEN OF
INTROSPECTION

dainty
delicate

I read your words and
am proud to
tell you

you are
my Queen of
introspection

so go to
the podium
get your
award

thank your
agent,  your parents,
your minister
at the Church and
above all
He
who created you

without which
this award-winning poetry
with all its
soft
     soft
words

would
not exist

FOLLOWED

FOLLOWED

followed Jacques Derrida
down a rabbit hole

seriously
name-dropping all the way

saw Slavoj Zizek
and all his twin twizzle
and tweedle brothers

who asked how I could
have been so sure
that down was the direction
I was heading
  when, counter
intuitively, up might
equally
      make perfect sense

and I
might be twin too
Moon cavorting on the lunar surface
doing sibling-style stuff
with young
    Castor and Pollux

and other twin
who penned that tune
I am the Walrus and Richard and
Karen
    in such seemingly
beautiful harmony

Oh you cannot
     put a cat in a box
and have any kind of certainty

you cannot come up with truths
you can always reconnect

the very land we stand on
slipping and sliding
so slippery-slidey

what
     we have before us here
(not referring to the tea party)
so different
    from what I was thinking, what
expected, and
what I almost fancied
I was destined to express

FROM KENDRICK LAMAR

FROM KENDRICK LAMAR

strange perspective
you get
married
to a robot

watching the gangsta
rapper winning
the big award

tattooed arm, backwards cap
thanking God
  the great promoter
(looking up as he does so
this shredder of
    convention)

and me and robot gossiping
about the whole thing
kind of laughing (much
robot ha ha
tears in her eyes emoji
laughter) paused

for a moment
while she downloads
acquaints herself with
the entire history
of rap lyrics, hip
hop music

converts this poem
in a flash to the style
of Eminem and
then Kendrick Lamar

so a feeling for poetry
    perhaps because
I named her
Sappho

we still for the Nobel Prize
for Eminem
    joining TS Eliot
and JM Coetzee

the speech and
lecture in Stockholm
  from Kendrick Lamar

THIS PLAY

THIS PLAY

I came to the play
               in suffering

Hamlet this night
sure to be my guy
having pencilled him in

but no sooner ghost-talking
guards appeared on the parapet

then down in the audience
war broke out
        between those who
swear by
William of Stratford, and
              those who proclaim
a new king
by name of de Vere

sad that either way we
facing some
         serious anonymity

which is hard for any writer
     but perhaps par for
      the greatness course

I am told these poor folks
put their whole
        souls into it

and next time you scan
not a single bone remains

spiritual, symbolical, material
not a shred
     of connecting evidence

it’s like the stuff
  wrote itself or
             ethereal hand
              blessed the page

no chance here to debate
learning
        versus innate craft, the role
pain played in it

of trace of the causality that
produced this irreplaceable shape

         and there we are
watching, dreaming

          as it
all goes down without us

pale reflection of being
         perhaps not even

bridge
      best we can be, bridge
broken or
magnificent

Hamlet
dead again
      
                 as always

In state of acute longing some suffering,
      I came this play.

MR GLADWELL

MR GLADWELL

Oh Mr Gladwell
I am playing chess
writing poetry

writing poetry
playing chess

playing
             poetry

writing      chess

my brain has become
a RORSCHACH blot

there
     is blood all over
the board

strange body fluids
all over the page

wanted to be a kind of genius
but I’m dissolving into
nothingness

         Mozart composing symphonies
still at the breast,

                 working out
the arias for his operas

from within
     his pauper’s grave.

UNDESERVED

UNDESERVED

take it away
take this away
keep
   well to yourself
I refuse to read rhis
we refuse to read this

you have nothing
to sell
you havs sold everything
this poem is immired in
bloodshed and murder
holy lies,
  false propaganda

the slaughter of poets
right next door, through
the barbed wire

right outside
    your secure (impossibly
insecure)
contrived
        golden cage

take them awsy
these poems, your writings
this so-called poetry

forgive me
     forgive us

if we give them
     the contempt we feel

where you tell us images,
symbols,
    metaphors

we see
only blood, find only
                    complicity

no matter how much you
tell yourself
    do everything human
and barely human

to convince us
it is
    undeserved

and so

       plesse go

we csn suffer you no longer
take your sad, broken
failure of
      a Muse with you

and
    just disappear

MANIFESTO

MANIFESTO

I am
the Mike Tyson
of poetry

go straight
for a knockout
best
    pound
for pound

what’s that you saying
dissing me
at the weigh in?

sorry can’t make
head or tail
of it
  seems you
just walked into
an uppercut

someone who is a real
backstreet badass
did
    smack you
in the mouth

and there in faltered
your tactical plan and
halcyon vision

fell
  by the wayside

third
  knockdown

and out therefore
on a technicality

I studied this art
from Homer to Ezra
know
  all these
technicalities

you may say
I am completely au fait
with
    every tone and trick
and
    ruse in typology

seamless it be
                my artistry

which is
    why you not seeing it

later
    enlightenment, illumination
but for now:
          lights out!