Illusive Flame Enlightened

 

treading around the florid moonscape of his broken heart
again
he choked recognising this looming gloam he wandered
so what did i do wrong this time rang the too familiar refrain
but then he was struck by the realisation
that this required little further investigation
no crime scene fibres need to be analysed under the ultraviolet light
no episodes painstakingly re-enacted frame by frame this time
let the déjà vu-again thing just fade away..

for the weeds by the moon rocks rise to meet broken shadows
the energy of emptiness vivifies in the compressing vacuum
to fall in love then out of love with you
an imagined essence snared by the enchanted perceiver
has oftentimes almost nothing to do with the receiver gifted
and how do you kindle an illusive flame
guarded by a giddy and fleeting ghost..

around the circuits she lapped the laps finding herself rejected
she pounded the shellac pulsing to its ever-looping mobius strip
was it something i did or was it something i said
again she raised her eyes to the heavens
finally drying her tears dispelling the vanishing act
of the self-hypnotising magician
how she had yearned to build on a shared foundation
that allows for growth and to be
while he only wished her to merge with his imagination of her
with all that stage and setting and scenery..

The Cat Lady

on high they wait
the crisp-munching wooden tops concretise
metallic as the sound of trod glass the air-con sodden
mock the cat lady..

on high they wait
peer to peer slyly reviewing one another one another
lunching eyelids within their asbestos lozenge office safe-space
lean leer preen await..

for every day around the same time she walks out her front door
she taps a wooden spoon on her gate
a pleasing jazz fill lifts the air taptaptap..taptaptap..
beholding low and half-ducked behind their reflecting windows
the more sarcastic techno bats on shrill pane echo that back..

they witness two happy cats skip
joyfully she lifts and carries them both inside
some say oohhh and some say aawww
some call her the cat lady
and that seems to be the highlight of their working day..

only one time she looked up and waved at them
and one man warmly smiled and furtively waved back..

Moronic Is More Transmissible

 

christmas shopping again for batman..

and it hardly matters where the big one will happen
trust the plan
it could be donbass or taiwan
or tel aviv and washington
continuing to blow stuff up in iran
what for the mic is there not to like
praying for the retaliatory strike
or poke the bear until the lights go out
or release another gain-of-function virus
or smallpox in an unfortunate cracked vials lab accident
or would that seem too scripted and telegraphed
okay what about placing two high energy mini-nukes
between two tectonic plates
even the maddest conspiracy nut would dare not state that connection..

escalation and trust the plan
false flag here or a false flag there
always christmastime
a deep fake event is always ten percent for the big guy
tabla the tableau as below so below
so let it snow let it snow let it snow..

meanwhile
no office parties for the plebs again
no masks kissing under the mistletoe
oh no
no-one could have guessed 
omicron ~ moronic
one anagram that will never be on countdown
what a conundrum
will the more astute get a funny idea
wondering which cohort again will be encouraged to hold the beer..

do you ever get the feeling they are laughing at us
or are we being just a tad too sensitive
yes as umbilical cords pump unborn babies boosters
i believe in unicorns
no nothing can go wrong
moronic ~ omicron
trust the plan and ride the unicorn
so please
no masks should kiss under the mistletoe
for fondled baubles might shed their viral load
moronic is more transmissible
trust the science and think of the children
the nouveau bongo bang apropos
ten percent for the big guy is good to go
so let it snow let it snow let it snow..

The Mandate Man

 

packed to the gunnels with willy-waving erudition
the mandate man
as smooth as lizard lube another gatekeeper sentry
the mandate man
another mainstream shill eye-lined rinds of blue pills
the mandate man
on teevee lick lurid mash-up topography the duper delight drills
the mandate man..

the circus freaked ring-a-roses surround themselves
around the mandate man
his control file spook lurks in his view shadowing
the mandate man
flames of black tar flicker neath peeling liquid lids
the mandate man
join his team or join another team
it is all good for the mandate man..

fake opinion polls troll and nudge the bell-tolled
the mandate man
the fearful mimic in mirroring booths lock-and-load
the mandate man
budgies fed confirmation bias seed trill and repeat
the mandate man
the mandate man woman man
go on splash yourself some man in the mandate man..

Bucket List

 

she ticked off the last item
and done..

she smiled
the sense of achievement palpable
meaningful..

she gazed out the kitchen window
and breathing the fresh coffee roast in
took a delicious few sips
then..

she caught a flash of crimson outside
flitting from branch to grass to..
for a long second their eyes seemed to lock
and that moment became still..

A Gloved Hand Warmed November

 

leaning over he leant ever lower
craning a gloved hand over the candle flame ember
a discarded cigarette flicked away still lit
a street heater
a gloved hand warmed november..

the gloved hand over a cigarette
a postmodern stained-glass frieze
an ironic holiday postcard of a banksy mural print
for the lucky ones who lead another life
unlikely he would he get it..

stood on the other side my chocolate was making a phone call..
and he gazed down at the cigarette for quite a while
he then collected it up
then shuffled around his belongings
a trolley next to a case
many bags and empty coffee cups full
stacked neatly all in rows and all in line
in front of him on the kerb
and to his left-hand side on the pavement behind
thoughtfully he left plenty of room for passers-by..

he placed the cigarette in one of his cups
and gazed at it
his back by degrees lowering down
he walked back a little
surveying
considering
analysing
the yoga pose remained windswept-stoic..

after a few seconds he raised up
at the speed of the second hand of a watch
going back in time
he fished out the cigarette
perhaps it was not quite extinguished
and might scorch or damage the other items inside
or perhaps the placement seemed not quite right..

and he walked slowly slowly around and around
and a street sweeper semi-circled around him understanding
recycling manifests in many ways
the discarded meaning
gently elevated within its barren priceless cost..

he placed the smoke in another coffee cup
this cup on the other side
he then stared away from here somewhere
he seemed glad to acknowledge a shrugged reception..

he then turned to gaze down at this goblet
he rose a little and walked around his belongings once more
considering and reflecting and musing..

..yeah he is seems to always be there
well at least during office hours
the folks in the coffee shop know him
he often goes in to use the toilet etcetera
he collects things
they know he has some kind of mental health issue
they are okay with him
nice to see..

only a few minutes earlier
and entirely unconnected
we had been talking about a tate modern exhibition
and as it turned out
the only one my coffee-break colleague needed to attend
such coincidences have great timing..

and art
where context is everything
only in the art gallery would this have value and meaning
only in the art gallery the installation artist may say
yeah it means whatever you want it to mean
i am glad it has sold
but that is not entirely the reason why i did it
so please do not ask me what it all means
why i threw it all together as i did
you have to bring yourself to it
use your critical thinking..

lucky for mister tortured artist this man on the pavement
will never be granted access-all-areas
perhaps some intrepid impresario
should offer him a contract
but not everyone can do this as art
again it is the context that provides value and meaning
otherwise it is just kitsch rubbish
that despoils the landscape with bric-a-brac clutter
there is a place for such things..

then leaning to one side he looked up at the slate sky
as a quality street sweet wrapper metamorphosed
he arced his woolly hat gently a net
golden fluttering foil trapezed transfigured
he gazed down contemplating his catch
then he tipped his hat upside-down to release
the golden amber light lifted down landed
and he leant a little lower and a little lower to..
my break was over so i had to go back inside..

Only Two More Years To Flatten The Curve On This Round Earth

the crisp blue lake of sky
vast and tranquil
unblemished
i gaze up at this vast blue lake of sky
kissed with the morning sun rays
the air sparkles heady powdered dew
tasteful elements of crystalline blue
a wafer of angel feathers the offering..

a wafer of angel feathers feathering
a taste-mountain of the sky blue
a dash of lemon sun
a sliver of ice from the still visible crescent moon
a free cocktail of polka dot ozone zephyr
the gentlest brush on the lips
a drop of nectar of forever
a froth of the most wispy cloud hit..

the majesty of the eternal is still a thing
embraced in the fleeting gift
the fleeting gift unwrapped is the memory distilled
stirred whirling within its dynamo of transmutation..

The Driver

 

rolling as smooth as tanks on plastic turf
governments are super efficient when they wish to be
that nietzschean sense of purpose
is all they need..

the jubilating crowds enticed join in
yearning to be told they are in something big together
buddy the boot on face to flatten the curve
the current fascism always looks so different
than the ones read in history books
that is always the excuse
and a post-modern genocide would feel like nothing..

a bleeding man in blue jeans was lying on the ground
the blood was pouring down his legs
and criss-crossing his white shirt
in a pile unmoving almost folded in on himself 
in a foetal position he lay 
one sleeve embracing the shiny refuse..

a rubbish collection van stopped
the driver jumped out
he threw the black bags in the back
then he knelt down and
picked up the discarded flag
before throwing it back on the pavement again..

Faith Drains

 

christian ronaldo
at a press conference
took down the real thing
a well-known drain cleaner
also consumed as a soft drink..

a simple impromptu action
caused shares of that product to plunge
investors perturbed ran for the door
after he moved two bottles out of shot
and said agua
the butterfly power drive..

lucky for the astonishingly indebted usa
the dollar as reserve currency is still believed to be the real thing
though not yet tested in drains..

Mud-Dial Countdown

 

count down the days to holiday-time again – check..

vaccine passport – check
masks – check
track-and-trace – check
safe list check – check
graphene booster to fortify the life-affirming experimental jab – check
packs of tests in bag – check
holiday reservation confirmed – check
sunglasses – check
dystopian sci-fi novel for thought-provoking reading material - check
holiday time..

the airport – all in line
good green subjects mask-up to breathe in our carbon dioxide - check
breathe in again and again until the new normal is behind - check
responsibly recycle our own lung waste material to save our planet - check
fall-in the we-are-in-this-together-forever together - check
hello greta
ad nausea..

an added nudge
avoid the threat of the few thousand pounds fine
for not complying
no holiday
if our paltry savings are used to pay the not-masking-up fine..

our blood and brain will be fine
set an example to the jabbed masked children - check..

social distancing on a budget plane not required - check..

arrival in paradise -
everything scanned – check
additional tests – check
id added to more databases – check
shade the freedom-loving people in the sunshine - check..

hotel check-in – check
covid-id déjà vu again again again again – check
check check check check check - check
hotel room – check
sunglasses and mask – check
social distance on the beach – check
mask-up on the beach - check
breathe in my precious lung effluvia in sunny climes – check
covertly take my mask down
only after scoping the sand dunes for spies - check..

lying in the sand
gaze up into the infinite starry night
ask myself what it all means
in the sand – check
hear the rolling surf sneak under noise-cancelling headphones – check
clutch in my tightening fist wet sand granules the texture of mud - check..

count the days down until this wonderful holiday ends – check..
count up the days..
until the next morale-boosting holiday arrives again – check..

Tasteful Thumbnail

seldom shocked i was struck by a thumbnail
a comely woman in a bikini cross legged in the sand
toussled golden hair
the best of vietnam..

the best of vietnam
of course i understood immediately
click
a baby boomer had uploaded their favourite music
never mind the napalm and agent orange edgy exfoliants
the gulf of tonkin false flag that helped justify further involvement
the dad of jim morrison the uss maddox admiral
the end indeed
then there was cambodia and laos
a few million more there
some of the landmines are still killing people off fifty years on..

the best of vietnam
a few oscar-winning films
suspend disbelief and make millions
entertainment empire..

the best of vietnam
and haight ashbury
the military industrial entertainment complex
the lookout mountain hollyweird..

the best of vietnam
a photo of a comely woman her eyes closed
doing some yoga on the sand
the best of vietnam..

millions slaughtered to the stones and the beach boys
burned alive to hendrix
purple haze
the beatles and other tavistock institute puppets
villages scorched to great guitars
a woman doing yoga on the california sand
the best of vietnam..

typical comment left for the curator 
i was there..
typical reply
sir thank you for your service defending freedom..
the music was great..
.

the best of afghanistan
the best of libya
the best of iraq
the best of syria
the best of yemen
the thumbnail could be a masked non-binary on an exercise bike
music defending our way of life..

Tick-Tock Koan

 
so if a broken clock is right twice a day
and a clock that runs a few seconds too quickly is always wrong..

Open Palms For Yes-Mountains

 

flashes scribbled as indecipherable as a note from a drunken doctor
i discovered myself asleep in what can only be described as a bed
through the faux satin-sheeted shreds my fire exit-head wrangled toffee
seemingly dappled with nukes ridden by nerf gun-wielding pixies..

yes this jim-jam juncture so jazz that had a bejewelled albatross fired a live cracker
behind my bewildered eyes..a hobby for the delicate i would not advise..
it would have made little difference for the wordless ladled dream whispers
offered to a crash-test vat of puddles-vet as i may be very optimistic indeed..

nevertheless a dormant volcano stirs as its coffee muses which course to take
funky aerials tweaked now reach to receive and decipher timeless directives winging
wishing the galleon with hidden treasure a gentlle gliding sail down a yielding himalaya
pulling cotton for the saddening happy sleepers the smug marooned lullabied..

time-dilation neophytes to torpedo the blind-sided master builder smart necropolis
as their unicorns will ride pentagram rainbows misapprehending they have won
in thrall to their darkest dawn shall be when the fallen will rise the silence singing
yes-mountains will move for the awake dreamers tread light uncompromising..

 

World Without Landmarks

 

savaged by my doppelganger
is my world without landmarks
the cuts reopen in the city glade
the wrong kind of silence pervasive..

savaged by my doppelganger
memories return white noise
soundtracks load predictive yearning
forcefields of empathy dodgem..

what kind of nature is betrayed
beneath what strange kindly light that glints and shines
what serpent shall fire forth from the sun
why should i welcome the emanation as golden..

the sentient silence hums the within song
the resonance embraces and feels supernatural
the doppelganger reaches for i try the hopeful to grasp
what rescuing angels might side and ride within his angles..

The Point Of Convergence

 

..transforms the joy to her smile
fountaining down from a dome-lofted space
her kick-drum sky..

and as the snow fell the snow fell the snow fell some more
and as the snow fell she seemed to pull up the railings
impossibly like they were an accordion
the lamp lights so arranged the beaming stellar runway..

the air unfurled the longed-for scent
fluttering a few seconds limitless transcendent
uplifting there the snapshot of her finity..

otherly light streaked the sunrise
ivory spirals splashed the corona
the crush of god as pure as wordless meaning..

the point of convergence
what is more
witness infinite witness..

 

Crystal-Bred For Your Xanadu Reactor/Always Photo A UFO With A Potato

 

to sleep all the hours of the day
i need more hours in the day..

a gonzopolitan urban sprawl
a vast wavering lake of melting scenery
there rippling heat dances off asphalt
a diaphanous net-curtain silvery streams..

parallel lines of lamp post lights
fireflies dangle from matchstick stalks
a splaying lattice work of amber torches
plash and lacquer the speed-freak ants
adorning themselves in the gross metallic
frying pans and colanders above dance
and should you spy one darting its loops
wobble to hold
only and always photo a ufo with a potato
always and only with a potato
and only after the potato is vodka-drunk..

clearworld dreamworld lava
elixirs pour reverse java
i transition to a flame under moon rain
the violet spice peels dimpled lavender
elementals tease the tear
from beyond the celestial realm
come here oh come here..
treaty signed to escape the gravity trapeze
what a tease
what insights are these
so did i really sign up for this..

the whipped cream night so bottle green
travelling beyond the speed of light
the speed of thought
and there you are
teeming in the speed of dark/off dark
so now dear astral you see the light
to do to be do simply..

out-of-body gets me out of here
gets me out of here
i ask my asterisk to see above
no lockdown no masks
no clot-shot jabs
the subtle bodies dance
clench buttocks
for the canned-speech nomenclature ride
you the hesitant/you the denier
twenty-first century medieval witch trials
the new terrorists the heretics
the so-called domestics
watch the bait-and-switch
the nations of concern
to variants of concern
you see it
so many eyes seemingly in jim-jams while apparently awake
soma for the masterplan
trust the science
trust gates..

no clot-shot jabs
no masks for subtle bodies
no mrna no thought-crime
the out of brains are out of mind
hubris ticking out of time..

a spatula of disembodied neurons robe
and off you go
the navel silk rope
filtering to dabble galaxies
or like a kite you float over the city thrum
the swelling orchestral snowflakes numen
the friendly spirits wave
the higher minds plucked keep mum..

hark what tinkling bells are they
what a sweep of choir with harmonium
the quilted coda
sky milkshake third-eye nectar
crystal-bred for your xanadu reactor..

to sleep all the hours of the day
i need more hours in the day..

and always remember
wobble to hold
only and always photo a ufo with a potato
always and only with a potato
and only after the potato is vodka-drunk..

The Timed-Out, Enveloped

 

reassembling the broken mirror of yesteryear
the piece that goes here
could be the piece that goes there
reassembling the broken mirror of yesterday
for the perfect broken mirror reflection..

placing together all the pieces
feel the push-back
tease the shards
rub the sharpened dust granules
the different light edges the glass ground
gems sparkle flowering legs of spiders..

in forward flow how time froze
glimmering within the determined gloss of self-preservation
vacuum anecdotes fill the empty glass slivers
undone cold-cut memories the spoils..

the lack of self-pity
the equanimity
stoic and time-stamped steadfast friends
sensitised empathy swirling
at least such remains betray the right side of human..

the cool sheets radiate the always returned night
a mobius strip of less-than-tomorrow
the looming moonlight recoil
seals the pristine scars enveloped
flawless soft stones of shame
the swollen river flows gold its milk dark
the tock-tick of the timed-out..

Content: Unboxing

unboxing
i am watching an unboxing channel
one of many many..

for many many
watching a kidult opening boxes
is compulsive and addictive viewing..

some boxes are cardboard
some boxes are plastic
some boxes are wooden
all presenters fake orgasmic
so different from porn..

unboxing it is called
someone opens up boxes
deliberatively urgent
while exclaiming ooh or ahhh
rather like..

so i am watching an unboxing channel
but first an ad
one that cannot be skipped..

..really annoying ad
for an indoor exercise bike
green screen fetid designer cubby holes
behind fake crash test dummies
fake crash test dummies paid to be 
paid to be purposely racing to nowhere
racing to hit the wall
to hit the wall of nowhere
i forget the name of the bike
the advertiser never mentioned the name of the wall
the name of the wall
nowhere..

all in all
another wall for the wall..

we are on the wall to nowhere..

now here is the unboxer
she waves at us with both hands
imploding teeth grinning
grinning dracula dental implants
she waves at us excitedly with both hands
with both hands like she is waving at puppies
puppies with severe learning difficulties..

she asks allmyviewers to smash the subscribe
and like buttons
and the subscribe and like button graphics appear
appear with ping and car horn effects
smashed subtly done..

she thanks her millionz subscribers
she brushes and blesses her bubble-wrapped chest
her bubble-wrapped chest confesses is humbled
humbled it is so not about the money
she says she knows we know that
she knows we know it is not about the money
about the money she just loves opening boxes..

then she says
so without further ado..
as another ad flashes its glue-on
gluon..

now we see her again she is
gazing thoughtfully at a box
like it is the turin shroud
if the turin shroud is hidden inside a colourful box
shrodinger shroud-waving
she pulls up the box to her ear
she waves the box around
she caresses the box like it is..
a box..

she shakes the box some more
she taps the box
she gazes again at the box
she unwraps the box
slowly
she opens the box
slowly
she pulls an object out of the box
she waves it around
slowly
hypnotically you might say
she says ooh and she says ahh..

she looks at us
she tells us
she cannot do without this object
she wonders how she ever managed
ever managed to survive without this in her life
survive without this in her life for so long
she is certain she cannot do without it now
without it now she knows how we would feel
how we would feel if we had this in our paws right now
right now she has got the empathy thing going on
going on..

her sponsors concur
and because they know we cannot
we cannot do without this object
they will offer the millionz of subscribers
and random viewers
an exclusive thirty-three percent discount
just..smash..the..link..below..
so without further ado..

as another ad comes on..

a second of blackness then back
she waves to us again and points
points and reminds us to smash the subscribe and like buttons
the subscribe and like buttons appear again
with added ping and car horn effects
smashed subtly done..

before she waves us bye-bye
she teases us
she teases us about a box
about a box she will open for us tomorrow
for us tomorrow will it be this one
this one or will it be that one
that one..

then as promised she waves bye-bye
bye-bye with both her hands flapping at invisible flies
invisible flies with severe learning difficulties
with severe learning difficulties..

her conjuring hands
animated glitter swishes out from them
and she blows the glitter towards us
towards us the glitter hits the screen and..
flies through..

her disembodied voice instructs
remember to smash the special offer link below now
below now remember now below now..

and another ad comes on
on..on..

 

The Light Dark

 

i notice the lighthouse it still seems to be broken
against the deep slate sky i can still see its silhouette
did someone break the light system of the lighthouse
why would they do that
its windows still reflect 
and in the darkest night
i look out for it..

Another Glitch On Bold Street (Where Parallel Liverpools Collide)

 

rising through the stairs the liminal apparition glides transcending
shockwave munificence the witnesses all shimmer transforming
first the four-hour motorway time-glitch..triggering the daisy chain
then the stirring orb lights blessing  fields/bathing passing cars
flashing flashing strobing and flashing..

by the petrol station trips a holographic flip book of a roman soldier
the forecourt lights dim-flicker-dim..he comes..he goes..
his steed materialises onto the crimpling carriageway
shocked the screaming truck driver slams hard on the brakes and..
fog only fog..the horse washes through his truck only to vanish
the driver pulls over..i hit nothing..he laughs no-one will believe this..

bold street where parallel liverpools collide
where mischievous time-glitch elves have pipelined their ley lines
are they from another reality perhaps where there is no faul
and where john has no immortalised shadow mortality baked-in
with a little help of chapman the inversion befriended..

by the way have you ever floated through concrete walls
concrete walls that were lit from the inside
have you ever lifted off from yourself
like a whizzing firecracker through the ceiling then into space
try it during the next  lockdown to while away the hours ..

have timeless ancients offered advice to you on moonlit sand dunes
ever encountered previous expressions standing right before this you
as you stumble do you ever sense ( ….) has your back
have you ever turned around and caught frozen the fleeting flash
only to be disabused by dashing eminences of materialist science..

Instagram-style Confessional Poem (with added value entitlement-resentment)

                      

I once blew up a vacuum cleaner with a vegan blancmange

I

ONCE

BLEW UP A

VACUUM cleaner

WITHAVEGANBLANCMANGE

AND I suppose you want to // know how

                                     

                  this terrible incident incident    strange

//?occurred

but really I would rather not talk about 

 ?    it

    ???

Would you find it funny [QUESTIONMARK+_QUESTIONMARK=QUESTIONMARK}

and it only happened one time

and I am hopeful it will not happen happen again

but

you never know do you

and besides

do you do you

it

• is none of your business ###GETREAL

• so why are you encroaching on my safe space

• stop it just stop

it

you are just being rude now

you are the kind of person that murdered someone

4 a BADREASON

a BADREASON is not a GOODREASON

 

GOD I hate you all learn to love you bastards

ANDAND

you have probably never vacuum cleaned a blancmange vegan or other wise so how would you know anyway do you even know what poetry is

• THOUGHT not

  PROVE IT TO ME!!!!

1. Do you even know what a blancmange is ///thought not do you eevn know what a vacuum cleanr is thought not///???
2. 
   
3. AND if you
4. think this
5.                                                                Is the
6. End of this poe
7. M
8. do not kid yourself/ves/elves

NO WAY AM I LETTINGTHISGO

NOT NOW

IF that vegan vacuumcleaner was a small animal chocking to death

 would that be funny

wellWOULD IT<>?????

WOULKD IT??/

WOULKD IT

?

?

~ELVES    

• 
  

The Into-None

 

copper tone lamp light flames your skin touched resplendent
awash the brilliancy the lush monochrome
swatch of iris
mist of sunset
twilit isles of crimson twilt
in waves..

yearning the cayenne blush heat/the ceiling swoop
thrumming the taut interlace
dew-drip unity
ascendence sheer
effortlessly woven
the waves..

mapping the placeless
time outside-in
an ocean of the candle-lit drop releases
the zero annihilation
the oneness of two    the into-none..
of the expanse of the dust speck
of the wordless the wordless
that something     a something
so elusive so temporary
this is to be human..

then tomorrow the time yesterday yields
the time yesterday     just and only in time
reminiscences reach to almost grasp
half save half destroy half yesterday..

this is to be human..

Burst In Its Zone

 

through and through
the city night contours gild the darkest filter
the zero gravity scythe swings on a mirror
the lesions twinkle as snowflake shards..

lotus of secrets beneath nightshade
more fallen tears staycation
limpid in amber
in upward flow
roll up to the back of the eyes
as the last vestiges of takeaway oil
reel in tethered
like a vanishing charm on a pendant..

bottle green empties flash their skyful
a dash of fairy lights droop lower over the river
like a trashed pier in its zone
weekend fish drink flatpack bubbles
caught like gifts of a swooping orb..

moonlight strikes the bin liners chrome
scampering urban animals tread on parched needles
a lonesome clubber bellyflops over his headphones
at light speed the astral traveller tilts at his concrete platform
as the bin liners admire their aura silver..

the sheep count the flooding pillows
gamma wave transformers for star signals
burst the city romances the blinded desert..

following in the wake of seagulls
snap-off rainbows back in deep-freeze
monday lanyards of rain..

 

Natural Medicine

 

rain is honey
the toxic wasteland now blooms a fresh meadow with stream
rain is honey
the parched scrub reimagined now abundant wetland again
rain is honey
the scarred flood plain healed replanted with tender saplings
rain is honey
the rested now nutrient-rich fields return sans agrochemicals
rain is honey
and human beings are not a disease
except perhaps to the powers-that-be..

and human beings are not a disease
to be bred out of existence with the darkest therapies
that dirge does not have to remain
and cities can be humane
imagine high-rises as vertiginous forests
and the metropolis a liveable thriving giving organism
pulsing with an energy expansive inventive artful graceful
synergetic empathetic holistic imaginative
and then there is truly life-affirming natural medicine
and the more they try to wish the good away..

oh but do we live in such dark times
that all this seems somewhat unreachable
belonging to the far side of utopian
only the stuff of silly poems and letters
written by middle-aged men who should know far better
well look around and then look to you
scattered here and there and within
witness and fathom the hopeful manifest truth..

valuing material things the right way
so easy
do we even need to try
the disposable culture is anathema to it
the emptiest most harmful kind of status symbolism
the paradox of such materialism eats more than only itself
do not sell your soul
and look there
what wealth what wealth..

so why crave replacements themselves so throw-away
to be replaced and replaced yet again and again and again..
for what sake and who really benefits
hiding in plain sight the shills shilling for zeros the dead lights
notice the assumed hopelessness baked into the buy..buy..buy..
perhaps we can be materialistic a more enlightened way
so easy there is no need to try
no mesmerising trance
jump off the hamster wheel starve misery the expense
self-reflection the romance of the expanse
we gift ourselves so much more than only a ghost of a chance..

and human beings are not a disease
as good custodians of this earth we act we witness we see
a few endangered species now flourish again
lost wetland habitats now thrive reclaimed
poisoned lakes now bird sanctuaries
urban decay transformed into woodland and light-filled spaces
so here are more real reasons to believe in real treasure..

oceans and lakes and lagoons are reclaiming their former majesty
with roads and homes made of collected recycled plastics
even upturned jet engines can dissipate poison particulates
human nature in sympathy with wider nature where both entwined can be
human beings are not a virus not a disease
we are part of the consciousness so much greater
save to savour
likewise that still bleached coral reef
awaits rescue and return to its former glory..

and to the powers-that-be
if you must keep the quadrillions of your empires
all your great steals
at least release those spoken-of long-hidden healing technologies
enlighten your self-interest and yield and even self-heal
or imagine yourself standing on your vaporising hill of beans
even if fully detached from your long-suffering host
as you sink and raise a glass to toast your own bitterness
what would clutching close a whole lot of nothing then mean at most..

dear powers-that-be
all it takes is a change of mind
say it think it act it be it feel it
all it takes is a change of mind
and the knowing
the power of redemption is an incredible thing
tattoo it on your removed chip
human beings are not a disease
and human beings are not a disease
and to heal is healing..

and if you think we are a disease
the least you could do is practice what you preach
set the example and kill yourself
but why do that when it would be so much better to simply reset
that would truly be the great reset
and truly something astonishing to celebrate for all time
so powers-that-be
is there a new song you wish to sing
called the power of redemption is an incredible thing..

rain is honey
the toxic wasteland now blooms a fresh meadow with stream
rain is honey
the parched scrub reimagined now abundant wetland again
rain is honey
the scarred flood plain healed replanted with tender saplings
rain is honey
the rested now nutrient-rich fields return sans agrochemicals
rain is honey
and as human beings let us be our own power-that-be
and as healers be healed..

Above Nocturnal Corners Dance The Dust Motes

 

the online profile to knit-weave
looking beyond your very best now
back-engineering your very own alter
you enter inside your shadow-you
the walk-in glitch
the mouse dagger carves the doppelganger tooth fairy
both of you hitch the ride
both of you are the stranger guest..

the you pill
the message in a bottle is a hybrid clone
a psy-op on both sender and receiver
hopeful the black mirror evanescence may trigger
the crime scene to sparkle that now or never-voodoo..

a beautiful bonfire on an oil slick
flames shapely
all the dancing horses
waver and vanish abruptly in the gaze..

finally a wrap
your fourth wall bipolar
banging your head against your eyes startled and tired
you press upload..
then to relax you kidnap a nun to hijack a taxi to drive-by a canary..

..you then meet your fated target
or at least one that will do
the right lighting thing
the right angle thing
the beautifying app software thing
will not be there at the meet-up
not at the job or romance or one-nighter interview..

so you might sense disappointment
for there might not be that you there there
and they might sense your disappointment in them too
both absences present and standing to attention
the mirages only dissolve to diamond..

so what to do
perhaps on returning home you try even harder to render
handsomer/prettier/even more fun-loving and vivacious
more intense/more artistic/more intellectual/more sporty
more committed to the job opportunity
more committed to the universe
this universe any universe..
or..

you could lighten your load
hand yourself a break
ever wonder why so many are having breakdowns
ever wonder if at least some of this might be intended..

quite recently while i was at a terminus
my train delayed
the partial lockdown partially lifted
so you could call it a partial partial freedom day..

so a few people were milling around
more than would be the case
on let us say a partial partial partial freedom day
so bars and cafes and coffee shops were a quarter half-open
the masks drank breathing chins
on karaoke matt hancock sang matt hancock so softly
like he was au fait with the incoming karma thing..

and as i was looking up at the timetable
i noticed a man was stood outside a small restaurant
a tad anxiously his bright eyes were searching..

he was dressed for a night out
nice shirt and trousers
a light linen jacket for spring..

and i was about to gaze back up at the timetable
whence from the corner of my eye i caught sight of a woman
sensual elegant understated electronic
furtively half-hidden behind a shop door
he turned to gaze in her general direction..then away again..
perhaps the glass reflecting at him
meant he could not see..

back down she stared at her phone
she studied the screen
then she tilted her head up at him again
no hope..

then..
swishing behind her silhouette
she made her away trotting up the escalator
half covering her side profile
her hand a magnet
so inconspicuous..

but he was turned again in her direction..
a beat..
a beat..
a beat..

then..
lowering his eyes
down
he reflected..

then..
he placed his phone inside his jacket pocket
he strolled away slightly zig-zag
like a smart vacuum cleaner on night-stealth mode
above nocturnal corners dance the dust motes..

he stopped to look up at the timetable
his departing train arriving a few hours early..

another woman sitting nearby
was watching him thoughtfully
she had no phone in her hand
he did not see her..

The Tree Hugger

 

leaning against a tree
messaging a friend
absent-mindedly she gently patted the tree trunk
the breeze
the breeze was a colour
the colour of its sound
and the sound was the scent of dappled canary sunlight..

leaning against the tree
she began to feel in the strange flow
a tree as ancient as english pagan wisdom
the bark as soft as parchment of an ancient scroll
the bark as cool-warm as triptychs kissed by summer solstice
the bark as flowing as the secret river under the pyramids of giza
the bark as mysterious as the woman veiled of cydonia..

leaning against the tree
she gazed up at the veined leaves lit by fire life
the lime leaves dipped in outlines of constellations
the branches lowering arms
the arms circled and curved
the arms brushed around her like velvet on night
the velvet embraced her air
her air embraced arms
she embraced the embrace
and the leaves kissed her
all of the tree
and all of the tree her every forest..

Astral Strikethrough

 

having completed the final draft of her latest novel
yeila elhouzzy at long last pressed send
now her editor will pore over to occasionally         with a guiding remark
with a stretch and sigh yeila stepped onto her amethyst sea garden..

the gorgeous waves of night so enticing the cloud fish lapped
and the mauve and silver-tinged sky glistened like gemstones
the four moons splashed up their activating rays
lime and obsidian ocean-yellow and grass-crimson..

she breathed in the tingling and loaded cool marine air
the heavenly-scented coriander orchids in full bloom
the parrot orangutans chirruping in the glades
the flying ziggurats zooming above the mangroves of rice noodles..

her lover handed her a bowl of snow pear wine
gently he massaged her shoulders and beckoned her back inside
on the frosted floating sheets they made love amid dark glitter light
and what a sleep they fell into as a pearlescent dawn arose..

her novel was a speculative fiction affair
set in a strange far away world so different from here
yes so different yet yes not so different after all
plenty for her readers to immerse themselves in and mull over..

her fictional world is a waring and divided one but not the same as here
not along lines of plasma group or octaves of dimensionality
not along lines of parallel reality mysticism or telepathic muscularity
not along lines of timeline catastrophism or moon beam energetics..

her editor flew up through the air-glass tube a week or so later
he enjoyed the premise of the novel and the speculative wit therein
but he had trouble believing in the divisions of that world
make their divisions less incredible and more realistic like here..

 

Fulfilment Centre For A Billionaire-Haiku

croesus feels alive
empty man to the vacuum
a hollow rocket..

The Extremist In Wonderland

 

the breaking news strapline rolls across the screen
caught finally
hunted down
trapped and cornered like a wild and dangerous rabid animal
shot dead by intelligence officers
thankfully the danger now over
normal service will resume shortly
this crazy individual is no longer a threat to us all
our way of life
the brave officers are thanked by the prime minister
and the majesty and the city..

so i chill out and watch a cake baking show
a judge looks at a contestant and proclaims
this blancmange is good enough to eat..in france
the contestant now crying because he made a nice blancmange
a blancmange that is good enough to eat..in france..

and all makes sense now
and again everything falls into its proper perspective
and again all is in its right place
and again there is a god..

but i gaze out the window
i am afraid i cannot help myself
pondering and questioning while recollecting..

so this whole strange nonsense began late last year
he always hit them/us randomly
then disappeared
seemingly effortlessly vanished
vanished just vanished..

the essential questions were asked
who is he..
why..
is he doing this alone or is he part of a secret network..
and what are his motivations..
when and where will this unhinged disrupter strike next..

his first time oh where was it
yes his first hit was in that shopping precinct
funny thing is i go there sometimes
it could have been me then
how my life would have profoundly changed
i know that i am being selfish thinking like that
but there it is..

then that music festival
he struck right when the headliner was playing
becoming more brazen
right out there in the open air 
he then casually walked away
so casually
lost himself in the melee
around eighty-thousand people affected
granted some more than others
but they all witnessed it
when interviewed some witnesses were crying
weeping that they could never be the same again
they felt so different now
how could they remain unaffected
after seeing all of it
and after feeling all of it..

and again and again and again he hit
another cinema hall
another night club
another restaurant
another place of worship
one bus after another
one train after another
one airport after another
he would not stop
perhaps he could not stop
he never issued any kind of warning
he hit again and again and again
male female black brown white rich poor young old
it seemed to make no difference to him at all
one hospital ward after another
one hospice after another
a few times he even hit veterinary surgeries
imagine that
even animals were a target
there was no stopping him
no place was off limits
what was he thinking the media asked
what gave hime the right..

and some people were beginning to see him as a hero..

the experts did a psychological profile
surprise surprise the experts solemnly deduced
he probably kept himself to himself 
probably had no friends
probably unemployed or a remote worker
some kind of..something
someone who did not be want to be noticed
someone who did not share our values
therefore an extremist
and what could be worse than that
we were directed
that we should not want to be like him
not to think like him
not to act like him..

after ploughing through all the cctv images
and cross referencing them with all the other state surveillance data
finally they were able to narrow down his base of operations
but it took a while
he did not make it easy for them
he was always one step ahead
some asked whether he had a sympathiser on the inside
either way he was calculating he was ruthless and he was clever..

but in the dead of last night
they tightened the noose
he was on them though
and he ran down an alleyway to make his escape
but they were waiting
and they shot dead the random healer
for they had no other option..

The Spiked Bodies Luminesce New Jerusalem

 
what is meant..

so now in the uk 
the jabz-hesitant are being offered wine
take the experimental mRNA
for free wine..

they mRNAd some rats
and all the rats died
rest assured it is safe for humans
for our bodies are different..

operation warp speed..
believe in the orange jesus/obama bin biden
the gain-of-function continuity
would you buy a used car off mister fauci
or mister gates..

spikers entice with wine..
so what would jesus say..

so what would jesus say
he might say
do you really need to ask me that..

and what kind of jerusalem is this
and if william blake were alive today
how long would it be before
all his meaning of his new jerusalem poem
is inverted
inverted yet again
spiked..

Conversation With A Trusting Jab Frag Magnet (Normal Thing)

it was early morning
the sunrise a blotted lava lozenge
volcano magma tangerine
felt so cold in this building..

the lift door opened
he was whistling
i said hi how are things
he said good though his left arm is still really hurting
it still feels pretty numb
he said he still cannot lift anything..

i said sorry did you have an accident
he said no
it is an after-effect of the jabs
he had his second eleven days back
and his arm has felt this numb way since then
so i asked him if he mentioned this to his doctor
he replied no he did not really want to bother his doc with it
so he just phoned up his surgery
they reassured him it was nothing to worry about
in fact it proves the vaccines are working well in his system
and the nausea and headaches are normal too..

he may have caught the look on my face
for he said no honestly it will okay
no need to worry mate
because lots of people feel this way
as it is a normal thing..

he was trying to reassure me
so i nodded
he carried on whistling
i went down the lift
and walked out the building..

the bastards..

Vacuumed Bookcases On A Ventilator

 

during covid should our vacuum cleaners also wear masks
they breathe in our expelled infecting air and dust
and should our vacuum cleaners then catch covid
what would happen if they are put on ventilators..

vacuum  cleaner on a ventilator
its serious
girlfriend in a vacuum cleaner
that is also pretty serious
did that vacuum cleaner really go out with her..

watching the talking heads on tv have you noticed 
many seem to have copious bookcases
shelves stacked and nestled earnestly sky-high behind them
caressing and enfolding the erudite talking heads
each and every remote tv guest
it seems has their very own library
oh how their cases to infinity put me to shame..

members of parliament
with bookcases
sports personalities
with bookcases
celebrities
with bookcases
bookcases
with bookcases..

and oftentimes the bookcases
seem to hold the same books
in the same order
on the same shelves
even leaning against one another the same way
lying in the same way
proof positive great minds really do think alike..

bookshelves in a vacuum cleaner on a ventilator
its serious
did those bookshelves in a vacuum cleaner on a ventilator
really go out with her..

The Third Coming Might Never Be Deleted

 

and lo he really had returned
and they did rejoice
and he turned water into wine
and from nothing he provided them baskets of bread
and he smashed a few 21^st century temples
and he pissed off some powerful families too
that kind of thing..

and he was kind
and he did not promote divide and conquer
or literalist dogma
only love your neighbour
and the brotherhood of man
and truth..

so the authorities were on it
for they were perturbed
and they pronounced this man a dangerous heretic
they said by turning water into wine
was he not encouraging alcohol consumption
and they said by providing bread
was he not promoting carbohydrates
thus diabetes and obesity
save the nhs save lives never listen to this guy
and by challenging the narratives of leaders
was he not encouraging dangerous
dangerous and unfounded conspiracy theories..

so they had a secret meeting
and it was determined he should be de-platformed
and his followers too
and they crucified him on social media
and mainstream comedians were paid to scoff at him
and the lost sheep laughed
and mainstream commentariat generated ad hominems
and the consensus was created
and falsely accused and crushed and character assassinated
he was ostracised from polite society
he then mysteriously vanished
and people were guided
guided not to believe certain unsubstantiated rumours
defined as nothing more than alternative facts..

and the pharisees
and the money lenders
and the bloodlines
and the war machine carried on
and all was bountiful
and all was good..

never mind pal
perhaps third time lucky..

CULTure Haiku

 

paint for the tasteless
awards and fame await you
the low ceilings spit..

solstice submarine
grotesque triptychs/black hole sun
from stone henge to this..

talented vanquished
connected shit-sandwiching
for the bred slices..

abracadabra
the cult lies in the culture
initiating..

if the christ returned
would he smash art galleries
temples of mammon..

all is inversion
yet the angels of nature
still may sing within..

Breaking News

 
so although he will not receive a telegram from the queen for reaching 100..

in 1988 the prince said this
“In the event that I am reincarnated, I would like to return as a deadly virus, to contribute something to solving overpopulation.”

time to put three masks on your face..
let the sycophantic poetry/tv news begin..
tributes will pour in..

A Crap Songwriter From A Parallel Earth Writes A Crap Song About A Parallel Earth

 
i am a labrador sell-out superstar with fourteen human pets
how cute their innocent batty eyelashy oval eyes are
as they joyously throw me fetched twigs
honestly i am humbled at their purposeful puppy loyalty
just look how besottedly these beasts gaze down at me
so no i could never lick them out my palatial marble kennel
the hu-rights beagles would smoke my head for experiments
and oftentimes i wonder do furry reprobates like me
ever deserve to own such sensitive two-legged creatures..

sometimes when i bark they seem so prescient
are the funny sounds they make really a living language
such untroubling empathetic and considerate companions
they seem to wish me to truly comprehend
so for this rock god so glam a dog
truly his best friend is man
they just wag..

sadly now in their twentieth decade
the squalling loch ness solar wars rage
streaking helium missiles fire this glowing lozenge down
as the tropical climate cooling
may soon wipe out all life from planet sun
thus hammerhead mermaids are still singing the reds
as twitchy lunar shark fairies kamikaze-dive
meanwhile i am a tortured labrador songwriter
press-ganged into action my once-yearly five-to-nine..

after i hang down the fountain pen phone
my manager on whisker stimulating hormones stoned
flannels my face off the mouse-and-bone
you see my contract stipulates
a last bad song is required for release
so the growing vinyl ice cap sheets
are already slain by fair trade terminator trees
and ready to be pressed into plastic ingot mp3s
but speaking creatively this dog star feels so drained
yet i bet gentle reader you feel little sorrow for me
you will point me to the long-distance star-sheep
on minimum baa-baa for moos
so it is for them you weep i see..

but i am compelled to sing to fight climate freeze
for i am instructed so
for this is the way solar showbiz gravity leans
and you thought landing on sideways is so easy
well now you know..

as i stroke one of my older pups named hairy pete
a rare moscovite/yorkshire cross-breed moustachieff
it hits me like a giant sumo flea
i should write a somesense song about a parallel earth
a fun-to-believe parallel earth
where humans are intelligent
and where dogs are their pets
and where wars are not fought between fur groups
or between mermaid militias
and loch ness sky-killer fairy hot-heads
but between humans and..
oh some other else
and these intelligent humans to highlight
live on static roundets not spinning-plate satellite suns
where they say their ground is too warm
too warm..
irony eh
at least making the video should be fun..

i remain hopeful the complete lamp post out of me
my friendly critics will not take
we belong to the same secret kennel society
so surely they will be minded to say
oh look he must be so unbaked
he sounds like a total sobriety case
sniffing around groupies sensitive to save their innocent virginity
my badness he has really found his whiskers this time
intelligent humans with dog pets
in a parallel reality that might even make sense
and it is not too clever to threaten us like satire..

so i take a time-in
and on my land-cloud i wander
then i lick my bollocks empowering myself lovingly
and then take a dump on the infinity veranda
my puppies go walkies to fetch my swag
with forceps they place forensically into diamond bags
the booty for fine wine ingredients i nod and wag
they pass the quality test
i pat my pets on their dull roundy baldy heads
and reward and throw them some humanee treats
like chicken-flavoured plastic nibbles and serious cigarettes..

now i need some story embellishment for dippy sentiment
to throw in the stadium-friendly climate-freeze chorus
the chicks love the meaningless mindfulness so faux
shame that i am a dog then
although we now live on a sun
where chicks and cats and dogs can get it on
even vegan pirate moggies flying the saffron sea
now only sport imitation human skin eyepatch thongs..

so how about this for a chorus
we bomb fellow dogs but not killer trees
but we were once all puppies
we care about human pets that cannot lick their testes
more than we care about poor kitten vets oh please
kiss my fat lizard of zeta reticuleee..
blah blah..
you get the feel
angsty sixth-form idealism may yet get me out of here..

so i better write that down
before i doodle something too intellectual
i might be able to integrate this into the middle ten
before throwing in a groin-gurning harp solo
the segue for shredding trampolining-triplet tambourine..

i am the doggynaut major fido
crashed on a parallel earth
the human military walked me to an abductee base
where they interrogated me
and tried to stroke me with biscuits
can you believe it..
okay that seems like a nice start
so what should i call this epic song
how about this for a title
the earth that fell doggie off a star..

oh wait a minute
would that make too much sense
the earth that fell doggie off a star..
sorry but may i rudely interrupt myself
no the song title should read
who on earth fell off the dog
or maybe it should be
the dog on earth who fell off a star
or
off the earth star fell the dog
or
who the star dog fell on the earth off..

who the star dog fell on the earth off
hmm..ah no..
i think i have it
the star dog off the earth fell on
yeah that should get me to number one
the star dog off the earth fell on..

okay phew back to the easy bit
the lyric
no one gives a human crap about that..
major fido to sky submarine control
my tail is in legcuffs
can you hear my desperate howls
here humans own this planet
and dogs and cats are pets
their plants do not eat their cows
their doctors would be treated by our vets
do you believe me
can you hear me..
yep that sounds the silly-smart side of squid
so i must definitely keep that verse in..

sky submarine control to major fido
have you been abducted
is your space submarine not low
is their planet also square
or is it shaped like an oblate pear
are their planes also round
and do humans there sniff the ground
it sounds so crazy
so craaaazzyy..oh poodle baybee..
yes i must throw a poodle into this lyric mix
as they are an important demographic..

but i must ask
is this hippy doggy-prog poetry a tad too much
and will i have to regrow a mutt-mullet
does this sound too dangerous too metaphysical..
humans with dog-size brains..
might that even be considered blasphemous
within the more crazy climes below these solar flames..

and will i expand dangerously my fans their imaginations
so instead should i play safe and write a song
about dog meets dog
and cat meets cat
and how we should all get along
like elephants and pelicans
problem is i have already done that cliché crap
like a thousand times
and who needs to hear yet another love song
june-moon rhyming about elephants jiggy with pelicans
yawn..

major fido to sky submarine control
funky caterpillars to crying gnomes
the humans eat burgers that feed disease
fortified with real steroid-jacked cows
sliced under long-life fake cheese
which they chew as treats almost every day
and when their children misbehave
they are fed healthy vegetables
and they keep their pineal gland fresh and clean
by brushing their teeth with fluoride cream..
it is so craaazy
         so craaaazy yeah..

oh man that seems a bit heavy and preachy to me
and would a world
especially an intelligent human world
be as stupid as that
so should i perhaps counterbalance and lighten this
with heartfelt and tender tragic pathos romance..
oh baby i miss the smell of your fur
i wonder whether you have found another labrador
or am i still your itchy flea
i feel like a sad-in-space missing poochy
wheelie beings everywhere are following me
i got no bones and am losing my fur
i want a spoon to sniff the sun
i need a stun gun cow..
i need a stun gun cow..

oh brilliant
at long last
i have always dreamt  of having a stun gun cow in a song
other songwriters will be so envious
i bet they will howl
why did i not think of that
ah dog
my lyrics cry for some character as this
it seems so obvious now..

okay almost over
here is the coda
my merman said to get things done
you better do a mess on my lawn
…….i need a stun gun cow
my merman said to get things done
you better do a mess on my lawn
……i need a stun gun cow
my merman said to get things done
you better do a mess on my lawn
……i need a stun gun cow..

 

No Song For The Indebted

 

the lockdown zoom armies
bleary-eyed and stressed and fractious
at home overlord eagle eyes monitor
the cybernauts tether
spy software for audit trails
watching the fattened tire
galloping in zero-gravity
swimming restless legs
softly circling inside-out
and sad children like wilted plants
in open prison lockdown
their under developing folded-in minds cave in
unintended consequences tended so tenderly..

the lockdown zoom armies
sculpted forms shred/boxed-in air-locked
immersed in cartons sanctioned
ass-backwards kundalini
sliding door-eyes lizard
their tyre skids snakeline flat-curves
mRNA celebrities
dribble vinegar on tv breakfast sofas
jabbed two-masked grannies give thumbs-up
timed implosions tick-tock
blood clots under ice rinks pure coinkidinks
concerned clinicians like frightened deer
msm say stay informed/nothing to see here..

the lockdown zoom armies
sweat like installation art totems
as drooling senior directors coil ready to spring
gravity beams on the moon-rocked
predictably sheer downhill they sail
more flotsam for that table top exercise
the great reset take your cue
new rules and rituals pipeline
orchid-festooned porcupines present
ritualised dank candyfloss benevolence
greener beaches roll in bankrupt tides
cleaner skies rain on cabin crews and sun-kissed livelihoods
more debt-slavery consequences still softly killing with its song..

What Is That Godly Tennis Racket/The Folded Arms Do Not Lie (Post Rock Panegyric)

For spiritual uplift, please watch this first. Let your ear buds boldly go baldly loud.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8IKnEoynH

this poem contains a mogwai audience strobing..

post-rock yoga the default position
some men with sage beards
all women without
shy smiles
heads slowly bobbing
in deep meditation/repose
arms folded
unfold
refold
the default post-rock yoga position..

heads bobbing/arms folded
some men with sage beards
all women without
their sage beards on the inside
this is what it is all about
arms unfolded fold unfold
pause then refold
no messing around..

benign professorial smiles
heads of the band raise upside-down
eyes closed open wide
the service will now begin
soundscapes outside/landscapes inside..

blissful melancholia in a tumble dryer
pear ice-cream on the moon
firm-footed shimmer for the film scores to ski
elves shift the sonic goalposts
logic on toast with tree tops to go..

fingers tapping/liquid legs master stoic
hamstrings tense/relax/tense/relax
the advanced post-rock yoga position
please consult your doctor first..

panoramic cinematic rivers for ankles beards and ears
one person now waving an arm slowly
easter island statue strikes glitterball lights
subbuteo with daisies
water tying shoelaces a haiku..

polite clapping and a few woo
arms fold more tightly for the orgasmic release
watershed torrents flood
a finger on the lips in pause and bliss
it is the only thing to do..

unknown colours pull out their aces
what is that godly tennis racket
salt plains echo through the drums
hamster aliens drive elephantine spaceships
and that is only the beginning..

tight arms also nodding
heads delightedly fold
some salute their mobile phone
then back to the default post-rock yoga position
sonic sanyasi..

shape shifted out the fire escape
soul delicatessen munchkins
the torsion physics of undulating symmetrical elbows
tsunami of dappled gems
in kumquat a quango of horizontal biceps
loosen neath lanterns
candyfloss super strings and augmented sevenths
to the goodbye night sky the stars wave hello..

the folded arms do not lie
the folded arms do not lie..

 
companion poem: 
https://sukispangles.blogspot.com/2015/09/post-rock-song-titles-that-probably.html

Ladies And Gentlemen You Will No Longer Be

 

poet of testicle ~
never assume one/two-testicle ownership is for men only
poet of uterus ~
non-females will have the right-to-uterus(TM) and to be with child
poet of cyborg spirituality ~
never say artificial intelligence-enhanced poet
poet of déjà vu sensibility ~
never say predictable/cliché-ridden/identarian poet
poet of leveraged levity ~
never say witless/humourless poet..

poet of diabetes-positivity ~
let us celebrate the sugar-challenged lifestyle together
poet of thwarted talent characteristics ~
never say overrated/crap poet
poet of creative privilege ~
never say talented poet
poet of atonality ~
never say monotone or boring poet
poet of colour/bame poet ~
never forget to lump together recognise all non-white poets so..

First World Problems

 

those thrums are her heartstrings sympathising
her beat disclosing
as she so gently closes the back door
self-metamorphosing
and the moonlight introduces the sunrise..

the digital world clocks the analogue
deadlines
yet this man is not a machine not a device
he knows the risk assessment
the imprisoning kind of self-denial..

to be
but oftentimes we simply have no choice
vision realised only in fevered dreams
the wish to seem to be
satiating the spirit with dream addiction
first world problems..

first world problems
get drunk on spit
extinguish your fire
generate credit-debt the trinkets bill and return to buyer trip-wired
first world problems..

time-out for sense gratification
ding-ding ego thrills and spills
the psychic corollary to that ponzi scheme
the status traps and all the pulp fiction
the guilt trips
and where restriction generates stagnation
inevitably resentment wretchedly rides in
all fabulous ways to encase your restless spirit
so what about it
and what of it..

of your spirit the spirit
your soul spirit your heart
maybe you should you bin it
as it breathes you
tumbles with you
being in reflective moments gently whispering
in resignation and self-abandonment screaming
first world problems
look how vain
i should be content surviving
who the hell do i think i am
discontent
thinking again
time to put away such childish things
first world problems..

so dear spirit shut-up animating
shut-up trying to sing
self-actualisation yeah pretty words for pretty words
but what does that nonsense even mean
i mean really
only that it is a self-delusional myth
peddled by kidult schemers with no responsibilities
gazing through skylights
following their own  crumbs in basements
first world problems
for clowns who believe in father christmas..

should i
redefine nihilistic annihilation as transcendence
to benchmark and plot and test
my new mantra could be
i must resist myself
i must resist myself
it would be so much easier than resisting all else
perhaps i could read this as a strange kind of spiritual test
that might help..

what about the next promotion
the next trophy holiday
the next trophy partner
my ghostly self will ride shotgun
noble in glass
i shall slay my needless spirit i will martyr it
sword my heart to stone
yes i must reprioritise this as my number one goal
after all it might not be such a tough ask
and then i can get busy being my own trophy badass
so much for first world problems
time to do the right thing
for myself and for mine..

just no
and that no means no
i know there is more
and there is more than one way to be selfless and to give
to taste the imperfect balance rare
more than just another friday
more than nursing the instant
more than walking in a desert
proudly taking a selfie in front of an oasis
for digital thumbs to share
no need to walk on water to see
being embittered is not the way to be..

deferred gratification and endurance
self-discovery with heart
anciently some wise beings from a very different world
said that being is its own reward
and millions deemed failed beings being created their great art
i take full responsibility
yesterday like the day before i failed
and i am hopeful that will only be the start..