PENCIL

Tags

Creation, Creativity, Destruction, Nuclear, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, satire, thermonuclear, writing

PENCIL

if a pencil
then also
an eraser

an eraser
to remove
everything
you have
written

everything
anybody has written

everything anybody
is going to write

SPRING

Tags

Humanity, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, Revolutionary, vital, writing

SPRING
“Can kill one, two, or a
hundred roses” Lula

they lay down
thick concrete

play around
in Nazi uniforms

for them everything
is a kind
of masquerade

the facade they
have erected
speaks the language
of Spring
(which they
took to
the Mengele
Institute
had
doctored
surgically
altered

now the language
of Spring like
all language
plays
stringed puppet
only
ventriloquizes)

but Spring is
a seed that

blossoms tough
as steel

exerts a pressure
from below greater
than a volcano

all in the name of life,
beauty,
that in
humanity

cannot be totally, finally,
absolutely suppressed

needs to be felt, smelled, touched,
tasted, embraced, seen

else
what

do we mean?

WHAT DISSOLUTION TO FEAR

Tags

absurdism, Consciousness, existential, Humanity, identity, meaning, Metaphysical, philosophical, physics, poem, poetry, wordpla

WHAT DISSOLUTION TO FEAR?

School’s shut
leaving me
in a philosophical vacuum

a nebula of molecules separated
by oceans of emptiness

like they pumped all
the oxygen out, all
the hydrogen, nitrogen,
methane, chlorine, and
every inert gas

and so I tell myself
my name is not Gogo
I am
more than
pure space, simple
intellectual abstraction

my molecules, in theory,
according to the theoretical model,
smeared
all over the place

by the weakest of
forces
held together

free to
skip class, play
truant

wander
all over the place

leaving me nothing
one of
the
99%

who look up
to the rest

covet such lives
of substance and stability

and yet
everything to
fight for

from
humanity
detached

and same it is, but different, with
these words on the page
(once — no, not really — words
in my mouth)

nothing solid there — all relation and
difference, symbol and
myth making

those old stories recycled
you’ve heard them before, wired
into your brain

layer upon layer
perhaps this is how air
how
breath contrives meaning

like
folded origami (suddenly shape
and dimension)
like
weapon of hierarchy in
folded samurai
steel

and I have, if you would bear with me, tried
folding
this page, these words, that

they might
fill my space, create
fiction of being

that you and I
could buy into

paradoxically, our life-stuff to clear
distinct to us
when most merged
most near

and with this
softest assurance

what
dissolution to fear?

NOTHING

Tags

Consciousness, Creation, existence, Paradox, philosophical, philosophy, poem, poetry, writing

NOTHING

tell me something
why is there
not nothing
rather than
nothing?

Oh, sorry,
that was my critical
error, my
category mistake

one life is not enough
for the paradoxes of philosophy

and I had
been led to believe
this poem was
perfectly fine
for take off
and landing

once on
autopilot
would be
perfectly safe

and so
as the wind whips
around me and
I have to think ripcord

I wonder what it was
exiting the fuselage
that I
was meant to say

perhaps to ask
why this poem is
you
is in your
hands now

my issue
no longer

as
time for these thoughts
is already ending

from nowhere these words
(this the
gist
of my thesis)

unfolding, opening up,
surrendering everywhere

magically appearing all over this page

OUT

Tags

Consciousness, Creation, poem, Poet, poetry, Reader, writer, writing

OUT

a poem got
into my head

scraped around
inside my skull

causing a huge
frissance between
physical and intellectual
sensation
and idea

pain
and pleasure

I was so so glad relieved
after so much lovely
damage
when it
worked its way out

IN QUESTION

IN QUESTION

Big Bang
(first
singularity)

Altamira
Hiroshima

where did that
story come from that
only
with destruction can

there be
creation?

that the
brush can find
its colour

the pen
in ink its measure

only after blood
(words tight in their structure or
cavorting around haphazardly
depending
on their

ideology

similarly with line and shape
and form and aesthetic perspective

after
chaos and death
end

of worlds

comes technical mastery
and formalism.

WHATEVER

Tags

Cosmology, innuendo, Möbius strip, poem, poetry, the Universe, twist, woman

WHATEVER

kitchen is the best
place for cosmology

bubbles, suds, microwaves,
caramelization in and on the stove

not hard to see
links here to the
history of the
infant cosmos
(Job riding
on the back
of God
that he might see)

as kettle whistle, frying pan crackles
I think of what single theory
might avail us of the power
to put it
all together

valid for whatever star, planet
in the Universe, within
whatever galaxy
under whatever flag
(the politics of flags
always crimping
my humanity)

and
to give it all
a twist

the beauty of woman
when it
comes to topography

her Möbius strip identity
itself the
riddle

perfect
mathematical twist

SCHOOLED

Tags

Creation, Creativity, Intertextual, literary allusive, poem, poetry, school, Sexual, The Wasteland, TS Eliot

SCHOOLED

stared into
the controlled flame
of a Bunsen burner

sexual chemistry
in the class just
about to begin

and me
I had time-travelled back
to find the roots
of my loneliness

everything in
the adult world here
on a steep learning curve

but according to my mentor
my mind is that of a catalyst
melding the culture of words
interleaving time’s tongue

my shadow
poet
bard of desert, scribe
of wasteland

the
Universe contracting
not expanding
energy lost unless
eruption
in the system

the poet in me and
me in the poet
almost evaporated

went
back in time

to figure out
this meaning

and there I am, transfixed
staring into the flame
wondering
what it means

CONCORDAT

Tags

Humanity, Imagination, left brained, objective, poem, poetry, right brained, subjective, Universe, writing

CONCORDAT

the Universe
produced
a concordat

has
an index,
a glossary

however
it has
neither
epilogue, nor
introduction

is bereft
of
pages, lines,
acts and scenes

which is
to be
expected

what you get
when the mind goes
so left-brained

TANGO

Tags

Dance, metafiction, metapoetic, poem, poetry, tangent, tango, writing

TANGO

and so
off we go

at a tangent
do
a tango

dance
with all our dead characters,
unsung heroes

those the pen
drew a
line through

rejected, discarded
left
unsung

but here we are
by that very
wayside
dancing until their bodies
(quite unlike the
Frankenstein creature)
come
back to life

as we find one
simple good, bad, ugly,
fair
or foul
redemptive feature

that never
dawned on us before

and so
back in full force

let them
find their feet
begin
to speak

their newfound words
at once so subtle, potent,
and intriguing

so do
knock us
backwards

lift us
off the ground