09 Sunday Feb 2020
Posted in BREXIT, British, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, THE BEATLES, The Beatles, Uncategorized, wordplay
SPANNER
“I call him after grandad
Who had a feathered brain.”
John Lennon, A Spaniard
in the Works
Dan is on his way
with spanner and hammer
hurtling as fast
as fat legs can carry him
down with it to
sort out all who
fail to
comprehend, don’t
understand
and you
can be sure
(that fish and
chip English
being pure)
that nothing
will be lost
in translation
(even a fool
with a
Ph D
can
easily follow
no problem
to understand)
09 Sunday Feb 2020
Posted in Metaphor, metaphoric, Metaphysical, metapoetic/metafictional, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Uncategorized, wordplay, writing
Tags
meaning, metafiction, Metaphor, metapoetic, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, writing
A WORD
this poem
is not a poem
even though
it says it is
you
are the poem
even though
you say
you are not
even though
you are an am
we all are
in a box
poem in a box
hardly a
word that
rhymes
if I say so myself
if I say so all the time
02 Sunday Feb 2020
Posted in Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Politics of poetry/writing/Literature, Uncategorized, wordplay, writing
WORDSMITH
wordsmith
am
I not
I am
no
wordsmith
more simple
fitter and turner
of the odd phrase
low-class brain that
reads, needs books
well above its
calling in
life not
to speak
of genetic station
that those vaunted
great minds (if they
say so themselves)
able to
eschew logic, rationality,
in forging
our lives
leading us down the dead ends
of political righteousness
(to which
sole access)
would
(if you but
give the nod, proffer a wink)
heap your high-minded library into
chaotic high pure
silence
those words, thoughts forever
as flames rage, pages burn
the ghosts in the smoke as they rise to the heavens
whispering: this is
what we warned, the fate
we foresaw
the death we envisaged even
in the glory of each page
22 Wednesday Jan 2020
Tags
l’écrivain écrit
books books books
book upon
book
never read
pages pages pages
page
upon page
so many written
hardly a sentence
worth anything
making any sense
not a
single
good idea
19 Sunday Jan 2020
BASTION
they want him to teach
everything to the world
but he is locked into his little castle
somewhere on the fringes, in
no man’s land
the sounds of singing and drums
swirl through the night
stealing his sleep
he needs to prepare
he has points to make
ideas to think
stuff to exchange
he still believes
of the highest order
shame
when that faith collapses
and this is
its last, sad bastion
19 Sunday Jan 2020
14 Tuesday Jan 2020
Posted in erotic, Global warming, Poem, Poet, poetry, Poetry, Poetry, Sensual, Sexual, Sexual innuendo, the body, Uncategorized, woman, Woman, wordplay
RAIN
we talked climate
change
we went Plato
and Socrates
philosopher and
best disciple
we went
Monsoon
we fell like a tropical rainstorm
in the Garden of Eden
we ran
with the animals
we shapeshifted our bodies
conjunction disjunction
exploring every
function
analytically
scientifically
we came to the
conclusion
that the body
is a sign
points beyond
limitation
and yet
the realization that
there is
the unique moment where
word
is flesh, flesh
is word
the rest
melting in the rain
08 Wednesday Jan 2020
Tags
grammar fascist, poem, poetry, Reader, satire, social media, troll, writing
IRON CROSS
he loves to
troll
and also
trawl
(but we
will not
go into
that because
it is so
“ad hominem”)
above all
he loves to
pinpoint error
correct grammar
a blue-pencilled word
Fascist if
ever there was one
so many mistakes
in my poem
(beyond the
tight-fitting
bounds of
poetic licence)
he swears
the “project”
best go
back to
the drawing-
board
the fuhrer of
phraseology
going to
give
him the
iron cross
06 Monday Jan 2020
Tags
Humanity, poem, poem poetry political moral, Poet, poetry, satire, thermonuclear, wordplay, writing
POEM ALPHA
ALPHA TANGO ZULU FOXTROT
yep
I thought about
having a
foxtrot
but decided to cover
myself with mud and leaves
lie down in a river bed
until it
all passed over
Empire’s rise and
fall
it is a
law
of history
Empire’s fall
but never
with such weaponry
and so I decided
to fire off
all my poems first
no sense
letting them get
caught on the ground before
they could get airborne
before they
might
plead the cause
of peace
show
the horrors of war
ALPHA ZULU TANGO FOXTROT confidence
is high this is the poem you
have targeted
we have confirmation
it’s the one
you require
03 Friday Jan 2020
AS WE DO
he wrote beautifully
bitterly
even as the pen
hit the paper, the images
swept across the screen
held us all
in thrall
watching that
process of transformation
take place before our very eyes
wondering
as we left the cinema
wandered home
whether we ourselves
might be written
find ourselves
drawn into the picture
somehow, somewhere
wondering what it would look like, feel like,
to look back upon ourselves
those
lesser, lower selves
who fail to see themselves
as we do
