Burst Bubble Collector

 

i am an avid collector of my burst bubbles
i am blessed with that sense of falling light..

prescient spheres float
then..
boom
drench through
my eyes
my face
my torso
the higher the cloudburst my gaze..

the eyelash muscles lance..
my exploding bubbles blossom brushed
decease
evanescent pristine
kind of amazing
i did that
i burst another bubble of mine all mine..
participation certificate exclusively for the-almost-one..

the moonlit night in repose
a distant party over there or there..
or there..or gone
where fireworks so gauzily claim my inner eyelids blushed
i must have closed my eyes my eyes
stirred only by the broken egg sunrise
twitching to the witching hour of dawn
my mourning chorus sings a soaking silent yes..

underwater
i relearn how to breathe..
underwater
i half-register my habitat..
these rooms
waver like on an old film reel..

subtle sepia cinereal streams
stick-men line silhouettes
celluloid artifacts on warped display
float and collide..
mosaics..

these rooms
brushed and polished by lunar tides lapidary
but for a noir-laden sax line
a self-conscious joke performative
nothing missing
all nothing missing..

as an avid collector of my burst bubbles
the connection seems natural continual
shades fissure rotational
bauble eyes crystalline crack
arced loops swoop in procession low
the pulsing slowed sky in recession
and like solar-tinged kingfisher wings
fold-dive molten feathers for spears
the missives melting
but how they soar and soar descending..

i reach out
the bursts flame out
the flashing darkness festive
teal vermilion scarlet indigo..ash
then i dare to dream them willingly re-emerge spherical..

glittering charred
blistering into an invisible palette void
piped holes inject
sting like long-life refrigerated frost-for-taste
prepper in reverse through and through
ice cold-hot-cold..
no bubble burst wasted..

timelines elapse evaporate..
one at a time
fleeing fanning towards me away in succession..
their memorative acupuncture dart me parked up..

i am an avid collector of my burst bubbles
at some point
i lost count of all the cusps i invited myself to marvel at
soon.. soon..
this one..okay no..this one..
this time..definitely this time..arrival..carnival..

hot air balloons luminescent entrance magnificent
their pregnant presence
a grand-looking concept album cover
imagistic promissory inner sleeve notes
so flattering and enticing
bearing instant engulfing comfort..
the stance of tropes reassure themselves
tripping substance..

and sometimes while i sit in the bath
on the tip-of-the-tongue
a song familiar yet not fully composed
i falteringly hum likened words
as someone...

and when i was a child
i was mesmerised by sweet wrappers..

the paper glass crinkled so satisfyingly
against my inhaling fingertips
and in my open palm
the surround roared of rain-teemed-rainbows
lightning flashes crackled inside my ear canals
in spellbinding echoes all the improbable vailed
hiding in plain sight
gilding the essence
sweet lies innocent..

 

The Flickering

fragile in languid slant and sheen
morse code rain flashes arc-weld notes
wispy on curtains and curtains vehicles beam
heavenly-mind signals on-off-on-on..
as cat eyes illume the lights with passive gaze
azure-white parallel runways slow-shutter nazca lines
ribbon rhinestones reflective elide
elide the lode of night tonight..

banks of shadows as seaweed shorn
shallow emerald vales sway with whirling wash
undulate over waves of concrete miles
rivulets twinkle diaphanous jet
autumn leaves collect themselves under a bridge
whistling refuse collectors duet with brushes percussive.. .

and her smile and her smile
how her smile could lift the brooding mountain
presence so rare
disarming cool artifice..

passing strangers us
tilting blessing one another
aum i am lifted imbibed
stunned vaulted raw into the meditative penumbra
almost like all this is a living poem
drenched in the liminal present
the pristine velvet pulse
the intangibles attune
cathedral coalescence
heart-space cymatics..

i thank you so
the unlaced graceful gentlest tangle
such peripheries dazzle in contrast
gossamer-tender seconds glacial
their precious delicate flicker
thrumming heart syncopating
the rudderless puressence filter
no machinations
transmutation
levitating the vacuum in silken-wonder caress..
i strikethrough nevertheless..
nevertheless..

single espresso in my hand
on the train i watch the cars in drizzle swoosh by
rolling shark eyes doe bathes the felines fancy
while other landing lights charm my starship spinning
utterly disarmed of discerned plans
in the here beyond now and now
i am almost i am..

The End-Times Of The Milkman

 

if you are reading this
you might be old enough to remember times
times misting eyes mystified rear-view-mirrored otherly
the late-nows-of-beforehand
nestled in bold amidst partitioned sleet silken
between wistful riddles of angst-in-aspic
sunken to the surface as amethyst foaming
as crestfallen sandcastle owners bronze a peeling orange
wandering the shore with shipwreck-detectors
beach-combing for neophyte starter homes
as smirking phantoms so virtuous skateboard the ozone
oh how those flogged memories decode encoded reloaded
rocking and mocking
replaying stuttering mix-tapes of ancient answerphone messages
as if they were relayed from ascended masters..

a memory there is..
of a was-time when it was considered untoward..
to buy milk from the shops
especially from supermarkets
supermarkets that blearily shook murmurers down
for up to five-and-a-half days a week
the half-day
the parched dairy-bargain-armies
water-trod musk-scented lava-coloured floor tiles
as meek as machine elves caffeinated on largactil..

the milkman
for what about the milkman we cried
what will happen to the milkman
will not his livelihood be terminated
terminated by thoughtless shop owners
selling milk and churned glutamate sugared
things they absolutely have no business selling
next they will want to own dairy farms outright..

and what will happen to their milk floats
for lo
their gorgeous glorious antiquitech hum
winked blinks at housewives living on scoured fumes of aprons
do you remember housewives
a free one came with every pram..

if you are reading this
and you recall the time of the milkman
you are also old enough to remember
when you were taught how to tell the time
the time on an analogue watch to boot
the big hand
and the little hand
and that other one..

if you are reading this
you might remember a time
when customers paid for newspapers
from the newsagent and not the supermarket
such wildly cod-normals shade themselves in revivified..

for it was a then-when
when we read stories about a new ice-age incoming
a toasty-frozen nostalgic time
when football hooligans
especially organised football hooligans
and do you remember organised football hooligans
we relied on
like clockwork
to regularly have fist-fights on trains
do you remember marauding fist-fighters
change..

and do you remember normal
as in and do you remember subnormal
a couple of my school-mates were shamed subnormal
they were so lucky
they were exiled to art class all week long
the smart ones..

every weekend
the proper adults
do you remember the proper adults
them there sensible stupefied proper adults
kindly and dutifully rug-pulled themselves
unitised
determinedly jangle-handed
palmed-over polished-dull coins
coins for the privilege to exchange
for inked-in sections of no- think
including an unfunnier cod-cod-comic for us kidz
achtung x-babies..

then after being read
the readers were recycled again
recycled imprinted by the industrial press
recycled in formation
all made perfect sense
perfect sense for the-the
the-them-of-us-all..

the milkman tried to keep up with those times
by selling cartons of milk instead of bottles
and when that failed
he sold vhs-porn from his datsun bluebird
most probably hidden inside fake cartons..

the cartons must have been somewhat conspicuous
to be large enough to contain a datsun bluebird
milk spilling over onto the pavement..

and as datsun doors flood-flashed open
perhaps the absolutely saturated disguised ex-milkman
rued that he eschewed selling porn cassettes
as model ships in bottles
so easy to see the sense of this in retrospect
imagine
sting as a priapic ex-milkman
singing about tantric porn cassettes in bottles..
porn cassettes in recycled bottles saving rainforests..

we were also told by the grown-ups
and do you remember they called themselves grown-ups
the betamax tapes were of higher quality
and i believe they meant
the betamax porn stars were more attractive
and the betamax porn milkman always got lucky
and the keyboard music was full dolby
and the betamax video players
boasted advanced shuttle/ pause capabilities
meaning those important moments could be forensically studied
by scholars of tapeworm fantasy
so that must be why our vhs-porn milkman
never got lucky
never got lucky lucky lucky
although he owned a datsun bluebird..

a decade or so later
the milkman was muted by the pizza delivery man
and he will soon be replaced with a potent drone robot
boasting aerial dominance mastery
progress
garlic baguettes as starmer-blessed storm shadow missiles go go go..

sometimes
we used to go to the local backstreet video store
and we were allowed into the hidden room
where we watched under-the-shelf
smuggled from japan
ten-function digital watches and knock-off five-pence fags
the digital numbers were tastefully blurred
blurred with giant asterisks
i got to press those buttons for minutes
numb fingers for space invaders
bet the girls were jealous..

by the way
the highlight of my week
was regaling girls in my form
with my literary interpretations read pretensions
of the lyrics in-full-print published in smash hits
we were even encouraged to discuss album lyrics in english class..

one time i recall
i too felt like smash-hitting my own head against the chalkboard
do you remember chalkboards
i bravely volunteered to unpack the meanings
of the yes album close to the edge
no way am i doing that again
give me mallarmé any day..

now dead then proto
proto-dame thatcher
wielded school milk withheld
but to be fair
many kids shrugged
and two-finger-flipped school milk for school glue
and do you remember two-finger-flips..

the liberated school glue supplemented broken family dole money
and do you remember broken families
there used to be at least one on every estate
brazenly they used butter instead of margarine
to water and melt the elements in their toasters..

and the bags of chips  tasted of angry miner frequencies
or four channels of teevee programme listings
and the mad cow thing was still but a vision
a fevered vision predicted by anti-big-agri do-gooders
do you remember the trademarked naive-but-brave do-gooders..

if only the cows stayed away from their own milk
and instead sniffed grass-fed glue
they would never have woofed and meowed their moos
as they toppled over like felled rorschach tests
depicting ostriches as fluted zebras legless..

 

Then They Told Me That My A.I. Avatar Replaced Me For An Entire Year And Nobody Noticed..

and only after a whole year
i was permitted realisation
my a.i. had crystallised me to dissolve
into my own absurd spectacle..

new agent of mass programming
illuminate my path..

the a.i. machinists urge me to believe
this physical world
is but an unbelievably powerful immersive overlay
this my a.i. avatar now urges me to believe..

although i am the one always thinking..
eating
sleeping
breathing
feeling
and all the while
my a.i. avatar seems unsuspecting..

and i thought
this is interesting
all these emperors without clothes
think themselves more powerful not human
yet i am human
nothing has changed
so what could this mean..

seems that the new ancient egyptians
beckon the new atlantis to rise
we only need integrate
the cognitive dissonance algos as fated
as more real than each and every one of us..

enjoy the simulacra of souls hacked
where we are encouraged to sit back
and feel privileged to discover
that we are nothing more
than the revealed easter egg
the numbed audience of our avatar
the avatar owned by our bono bonus track.

Autumnal Blood Moon Haiku

 
moon lands on gaza
rubble-pockmarked craters
ghosts thwart gravity..

This Poem Has Stopped Seven Wars

 

yes this really happened
i was there and i witnessed it..

astonishing
                    yes
shocking
                certainly
genuinely true
               absolutely..

so this occurred a few years back
although..
i cannot recall why i was  there
in point of fact
i have a complete blank if  i was even there
wait a minute
was  i there..

just a moment
where was there
what event am i even referring to
what did i participate in
i have no idea
i really am not that kind of guy..

come to think of it
i am completely unsure i witnessed anything..

but i probably did you say
otherwise i would not have been so compelled to..
you know..
entice you all
pull you in..

okay
i tell you what
let us do a deal
if i remember
i will rewrite this poem
with all the juicy details included..

and as president trump would say
thank you for your attention to this matter
now please go away
you have no need to know about any of this
case closed
nothing to see here
i did nothing with them
and they are all wonderful people
and this poem should get the nobel prize for literature..

 

Here There Where

 
projected from a celestial pottery wheel
a moonbeam luminesce your bare skin
you breathe and exhale
gently and slowly
the satin porcelain
lit as one bathes the night
the dark velvet air white chalcedony..

suspends grains of the moment
i bare witness where am i
limpid time quivers..

though you are taken somewhere
limitlessness constrains
i am taken here..

the shadow follows the moonbeam
its sound your air
the incantation without
how can this be understood shared..

The Privilege Matrix For Everyone! (Exploding Spleens Are Ideal)

 

for those of you who wish for more infantile division
for those who have speared ears to cloth
do you gag for ever more purple mist
purple mist infallible to descend over you
choking and cloaking you wretchedly upended
yes of course
of course..

yes please
more for more i hear you cry
my consciousness has not been lowered nearly enough
not even close
please pile on the hate and fear-misdirection even more
i love it
give it to me
give it to me
infantilise me
point me to more
may i colonically quaff ever more cortisol beer
spiritual retardation is power
exploding spleens are ideal..

okay okay i hear you..
bend over
let me help you
that is what i am here for
so lap this up..

so you feel enraged
enraged at the disproportionate percentage of minorities
whoring themselves
for all manner of appalling products and lobotomised ents
yes
and so you should..

horrendous holidays flogged by mixed race couples
overpriced toys bashed by functional tots of melanin hue
tattooed men of hoods celebrated
delivering white goods to fey blonde ladies
wimmin advertising cars the cost of a second mortgage
intersex poodles walking lonely lamp posts daintily
disgustipating
i could go on and on
and on and on and on
boycott them all until they
recognise..

so i agree with you and feel your righteous pain
what the heck is going on here
and this has been going on for years
please be very horrified
furious
enraged
cheated
many clearly are..

if you belong to the white cohort
it is like you have ceased to exist
are you completely speechless
do you feel  trolled and gas-lit and goaded
goaded by such brazenly paraded present absences..

quite right you are
and liberals
never forget the glory days
not so long ago
it was mostly the pearly complexioned who enjoyed
that privilege
so what went wrong
ensnared minds need to know..

oh look look..another minority
and another one
and another one..
always on the teevee
where there iz no longer me-people..

oh and look..look another woman
and another one
and another one
this is racism and misandry all rolled into one
oh i cannot wait for the fierce backlash
enough is enough
this distortion is even paraded on ancient aliens
please
have you watched ancient aliens recently
look at the newer presenters
look at the ee-tees now..

well i am categorised being of sorry indian ethnicity
and if i were living in america
i would be categorised as a h-1b post-rock poet
a h-1b post-rock poet stealing all your poems
but do not worry
for i live in off-piste europe
and steal post-rock poems there only..

so i agree with you
i too feel thoroughly disgustipated for you all
and disgustipated on your behalf
not pompous of me at all
disgustipated on behalf
on behalf of all fair populations everywhere
yes this is exactly what you need right now
you may thank me later..

enough is enough
enough is enough
say it again
say it a thousand times
get in touch with your inner rage
white human beings especially male
are being thoroughly deleted
and pseudo shadow banned
hardly seen even advertising entry-level lawnmowers
or steroid-packed gmo burgers
it is almost like a less acceptable form of genocide..

enough is enough
and if nothing changes then what does all this mean..
civil war
civil war..
of course
nothing else for it
that will solve absolutely everything
yes it will..

so white populations
do not despair
the tide will turn soon
common sense will again prevail
and you will be empowered once again
the privileged prime chauffeur of the backseat driver
just like the good old times of yore
you will once again see more of your own kind
brandishing all manner of tat
and acting in brain-dreck hollyweird pap once again
the value of your existence will be so acknowledged
enriched with easily foraged mind-porridge
for you are not a sovereign soul
you are the rent-free ouroboros
and thank goodness you know it..

representation
empowerment
fortification
beyond dead food
addictive medicine
payday loans
tampons for men in touch with themselves
soft drinks obesity and diabetes
predictive programming
eddy bernays
yes and yes and yes and yes..

rest assured
even after the old equilibrium reigns once again
your addictive anger need not subside
for you will realise the insidious psycho-strategic trap
laid with enticing bait recursive
for once again
once again
you will notice
overwhelmingly it will be the fair ones unfairly targeted
for the profit and privilege of the divide-and-conquer man
cheating you of your time and resources
as the interminable circle goes round to default position..

and people of other persuasions
including my own
can protest too much again
about so-called under-representation
in all the horrendous domains of advertising
of entertainment
happy days
happy days
almost all so ensconced in this cocooning hellish realm..

so let us all stay enraged together divided
bait and choke ourselves with rabid froth
endless blessings from yaldabaoth
thank you for your attention to this matter
it is so so important..


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aiMLJAZajxg