DEAD JOURNALIST

Tags

Censorship, fake, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, Truth

DEAD JOURNALIST

I shot
a journalist

because he
threatened
to tell
the truth
about me

and in
a Universe
where
there is
no truth

people
will believe anything

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WHEN THE SNOW

Tags

death, Global warming, philosophical, poem, poetry

WHEN THE SNOW

when the snow
has gone
when it is no more
how will we
ever know
stillness

dipped in
liquid nitrogen
a flower gets
so insanely cold
the slightest touch
has it
disintegrating

I wonder about
uniqueness and
archetype

imagining myself
disintegrating

faster than
I am already

when
the dust drifts

what
stillness?

my death already
glimpsed
in the coldness

of such
a poem

SUICIDE

Tags

BREXIT, Britain, British, death, Ending, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, satire

SUICIDE

a country
committing suicide
but what
kind of
suicide is this
(for which they have
a new Ministry, new
Agency

new people with
mops and buckets
to come
clean up)?

I do not see
lemmings hurling themselves
into the ocean
striking out for
some shore we do
not see, yet there
in their imaginations

or alone, with saki,
steel and
every
step observed in
that ancient ceremony
since they
cannot deal
with their failure and
hence the shame

or
less
seppuku, less
lemming kamikaze

just the pills delivered
by shaking hand

pills
hoarded for this special moment
the only certainty left
in the
chaos of
this broken, inhuman,
collapsing world

EXPRESSIONIST

Tags

art, death, expressionism, Impressionism, poem, poetry

EXPRESSIONIST

the years
blur
when it comes
to time
I am an
impressionist

content collapses
form
takes everything to
a convulsive extreme

and so
in death

I am become
expressionist

nothing
on the other side of the canvass
unless
what with every
brushstroke
seeps, works
its vibrant, otherworldly
way through

ARROW

Tags

death, love, poem, poetry, Sexual

ARROW

just want to
thank you

as you
roll me
in the mattress

fling me
in the dumpster

commit to
the flames (true
Viking funeral)

for the
beautiful death

my soul
not just
leaving

softly,
quietly

but shot
from like an arrow
from your
gorgeous quiver

stupendously
strong bow

POSTMORTEM

Tags

death, poem, poetry

POSTMORTEM

you called me
back from
the dead

to serve in
the military, for
jury duty

join the
people’s
paramilitary
march
up and
down

but I must
apologize
did not
get the
message

or maybe
I did and
decided not
to come

thinking
maybe it would be
better to wait
to the people you
speak for
rise up
against you

refute your
philosophy
reject your
program

take
your head

for that
I would come for

drag myself
back from
the grave

for that is something
truly historical
I dare not
miss at all

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Tags

death, Heaven, Humanity, meaning, Ocean, poem, poetry, sea, Universe

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

was thinking
of Heaven

when shark came
swam past, circled,
great white
huge slate gray
fin
massive

a whopper

not much room
to maneuver, but
food
for thought

imagined, just before
the bite came

shark speaking, asking
me

why even
in situation so
dire
might I find myself
inclined to
second-
guess Heaven?

ANNULMENT

Tags

dark, death, Life, Light, Metaphysical, poem, poetry

ANNULMENT

death be
not divorce

be more
annulment

of all
you ever were

but wait, the air
so cold

cold as the bleakest
darkest spot of
the Universe

sub-zero breath of
your new lover your
new true partner

finally, yes,
the perfect ice
of this embrace

it gets to last
for all eternity
(there
foreshadowed

in every word
dark muse

of life itself, all
its poetry)

BETTER

Tags

death, philosophical, poem, poetry, Universe, writing

BETTER

it is always the
case with
thing not
followed
to the
letter

the Universe
closing
your book
wiping your
thoughts

swearing next
time
will
do better

SHELLING PEAS

Tags

Britain, British, childhood, memory, poem, poetry, War

SHELLING PEAS

peas in a pod
I popped ’em
one two
three

my young eyes watching
the bowl fill
they had
seen so little

pop, pop,
pop

pop

my grandfather has been dead now
almost long as he lived

I remember him only fleetingly
as people remember me

but he was
a young man once
in different circumstances, entirely
different

world of
blood and death and horror
squalor

of war

those pea pods bursting
pop pop pop popping

and the chatter
of machine guns
rat tat tat of
their death news

the bowl half full, so perfect each
little pea so verdant, special green
uniform

I have
done enough for my country