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..