the stars long
to be your sequins
(it is the
secret aspiration
of their fire)
and to be
more truly cinematic
they feel
they need to
get in touch
with you (whisper
their wishes so
that you will know)
30 Sunday Aug 2015
the stars long
to be your sequins
(it is the
secret aspiration
of their fire)
and to be
more truly cinematic
they feel
they need to
get in touch
with you (whisper
their wishes so
that you will know)
29 Saturday Aug 2015
Posted Chaos, Mafikeng, Poem, poetry, South African
intear up your book
on chaos mathematics
into tiny,
subatomic pieces
more variables at the 4-way
stop crossroad than
you can ever imagine
idiot drivers off the scale
even, especially,
in our small town
26 Wednesday Aug 2015
let’s steer by starlight
but before
we launch
take
a turn by
your pool
download the ambiance
feed ourselves slowly
cross-check the machinery
before putting in gear
25 Tuesday Aug 2015
what love is a lock
clings like the two halves
of a bicuspid valve?
when I asked the ocean
this it
just clammed shut
the sky
went blue
nothing you might read
as soft-touch inscription
penned out of
pure cloud
25 Tuesday Aug 2015
GALACTICOS
As I walked down
the colonnade the
trees sprouted snakes
their coiffured heads went Medusa
for lack of transcendental gel
and I laughed, finding precedent
for this in the chaos book
I was reading
skipping between imaginary tackles
putting the curl on a boulder to
bend it round the wall.
24 Monday Aug 2015
she was the
one who
brought
to
mind
Big Bang, quantum
fluctuation
forced him to
focus
concentrate,
bring
every
ounce to bear
and then
the illusion of
deep space
so
far away
floating
24 Monday Aug 2015
Posted Mafikeng, Poem, poetry, satire, South African
inALL OVER THE PLACE
Dusk in Mafs
all the resurrection in
a typical Sunday
bled out
bled dry (yet few in
this town look
universal donor)
we
pass a hoarding on our way
to purchase evening shebeen beer
the faces there (so good
for advertizing) those
of the usual suspect charisma preachers
who cottoned on quickly
how to
catch, dance a fandango with
the light in a photo
use the principle of beginnings
wisely, to get laid
but catch your breath reader coz
down Nelson Mandela avenue
race chariots of glory,
spiritually souped, aural ecstasy in
each gear shifting
though the symphony of
thru-flow lets me think
a sprocket loose
(needing the alcohol to
soften the conspiracy-think, to
detract from dark conclusion)
yes, the divine image everywhere
to thank God for our species,
springing broken shaft-drive
ever hopeful booze-induced or
not and
in denial
the propensity to think, to
take initiative, proclivity
for the creativity that
goes
by name of chaos
here, there, somewhere
like refuse during a worker strike
all over (pushed to
the limits and yet boss
man still pushing)
all over
the fecund place.
23 Sunday Aug 2015
Posted Apocalypse, apocalyptic, Poem, poetry, Technology, The future, utopia/dystopia, Value and meaning, Vision, writing
inthey wanted him
to produce poetry
faster than a photocopier
so he took a walk outside and
saw just how dismal
the image of
our future
walking like the Omega Man
through the deserted town
no street lights there
to light his way
just shadows in the high grass
now lapping at, soon to drown
every human hope somehow
now
sadly captured in
the hulk of each building
when the
vision passed
he tried again
but somehow the
speed of
the technology
always winning
23 Sunday Aug 2015
Posted Academic, Apocalypse, apocalyptic, ironical/comic, Mafikeng, Poem, poetry, satire, South African
inI was in the supermarket
when the church bells rang:
regular Sunday bells, no hint
of Armaggeddon; of
invasion from Botswana
not a suggestion
whilst trying to keep his humour,
the Professor of Poetry sat
neat in his
official box, trying
to work out the scansion
deconstruct
the metaphors,
legislate rhyme
immune from all history
profoundly marking time.
22 Saturday Aug 2015
so I was limousined into Heaven
past hordes of the poor
foot-slogging it home
sad that they lacked
the money to take a selfie
on the one moment
in their lives
of charity and care