LIKE THIS PLACE

Tags

Carnival, home, Humanity, love, poem, poetry

LIKE THIS PLACE

I like this place
every Friday
a carnival

every weekend
Saturnalia

you would have loved
to share it with me, be here too
those days
our bodies danced together
all night, all night

before
it died
before we died

time (what
is time?)
in this
place of self-
forgetting would
have done us
so much good.

FRUITY CHEW

Tags

Author, books, comic, Creation, Creativity, Fantasy, identity, ironical, meaning, metapoetic, philosophical, philosophy, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, poststructuralist, Reader, satire, science fiction, transformation, Twist in the tail, wordplay, writing

FRUITY CHEW

the soft toys were devouring
books on science fiction
and on fantasy
poring over those 50’s
covers oozing
Oedipal fantasy

I got a bit worried
about the words inside though
for, to the best of my knowledge,
utopia, dystopia, conceptual breakthrough:
these genre places in the zone
(and orbit) of dangerous ideas

then rhubarb-coloured one, prone
to gainsay everything, began
to agitate his comrades, educating them
how in worlds of conjecture
old hierarchies get — must get —
deconstructed, disestablished

and so
like all good god-authors do
I listened
with obviously less
than sympathetic ear
though putting temporary hold
on possible reprisals

for which absence of sympathy, solidarity,
I was starkly, harshly, openly called out
and ideologically corrected

and so
we had it out

and so
we negotiated
terms
of co-existence

new role for me
and roles for them

and house must
basecamp become for
varied and shared adventures
environment conducive to
the realization
of fantasies

no author character
distinction clear

must make some time
just to be a character
subject to whim and wile of literary fate

governed by genre
trapped
by trope
defined by
archetype

left
with
no arc, resolution
incomplete

the fate of
the badly written, subject
to cliche, blockage,
obvious choices

having to
be edited and revised

perhaps
without end

or blurred of identity, of
apiece with all others

(at least
my little soft toy creations
in their rainbow of pastels

every shade the distinct match
of flavour of fruity chew).

GOLDEN

Tags

Carnival, Difference, Heaven, Hell, Humanity, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, protest

GOLDEN

A protest
is not a pilgrimage

it is not
a perfect carnival

it is not devoid
of chance to display,
100% certified free
of human hypocrisy

but sometimes
aesthetics
and class
must fall
by the wayside

sometimes
since the direction is up
towards the sky
elevation of
humanity
this
little, this little,
however scarcely shared
amongst the general
is enough

it is not within my purview
to make a comparison
between those
two
near-identical queues
between Hell
and Heaven

count for count, each
just as
balanced between
stately and
motley

so good in this instance, so right
and relevant
that we do not to judge

which crowd, which individual
and indeed which poetry
finds its way to that
great iron, military-
manned gate

and which to
that tiny style
less
impressive on
eye of soul

but open
and golden.

CARNIVAL

Tags

Carnival, death, funeral, Humanity, identity, meaning, poem, Poet, poetry

CARNIVAL

turn
it into
a carnival

keep the
whole world awake
an entire night

drink and eat
and celebrate
fulfil the needs
of the flesh

cannot say
I hope to
see you
there

but know
you will be
there
nevertheless

part of the wave
of love as it spreads

sad
just thinking
of the joy of it

BODY OF WORK (POEM MACABRE)

Tags

Carnival, death, macabre, Mexico, poem, poetry, the body

BODY OF WORK (POEM MACABRE)

what a body of work
poke it
and it crumbles into dust
and has not
even aged yet

pull back
the skin and
there you see
bare bones, not
even malevolent skeleton

nothing like those grimacing
Catholic-Aztec wonders from
a life-haunting
Mexican festival of death

they walk
it s alive

how so
when our planet
itself has become zombified

I do not even
know the Spanish for
dance of the dead

and my Latin is so
poor, almost forgotten

far from — perish the thought! —
the eternal or immortal

PLACES TO CHILL

PLACES TO CHILL

a homeland
for poets and artists
and people who
would walk to
walk around naked
seeing infinity and all eternity
etc etc

and cops armed with feathers
and open-air
prisons which are
just
places to chill

TICKLED PINK

shot with a joke gun
about to die
laughing

but clown
paramedics
saw him turn blue
rushed to
the rescue

repainted him
fuchsia

shade known
in the
trade
as
“tickled pink”

DARK CARNIVAL

I got my ticket
for the dark carnival

stole it from
an evil clown while
she slept beside me
so much red
white face paint
all over my body

looked like a plague
victim (one
insanely happy)