DELICIOUS

Tags

death, fish, Global warming, horoscope, Humanity, meaning, mythology, Nazi, philosophical, poem, poem poetry political moral, Poet, poetry, postmddern, poverty, power, Reader, satire, sea, simulation, South Africa, spiritual, Universe, Water, Water power astrological, wordplay, writing

DELICIOUS
(at Ocean Basket, 6/6/2019)

depression
recession
world heading back
to the 30s

I eat my designer
fish and chips whilst
the world goes crazy
channeling inner fascist
like some
scab on the planet

it’s my day for reading
birth charts and
you are all
Scorpio Capricorn Scorpio

so deep water sign and
high mountain goat we go
whilst the Universe
simulates whim, cons as
if capricious

so much to write about but
the pen seems hardly willing, battling
undertow, inertia
up in the clouds you
know it
is death zone but
the age pulls this trick
that there
is no spiritual narrative
may not be
a summit

one falls into space when
opening up to expectation

see: the pen
has written something

and the fish
is delicious

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THE SKY BUCKLES

Tags

Consciousness, Creativity, Humanity, Language, meaning, Metaphor, Metaphysical, metapoetic, philosophical, philosophy, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, power, Reader, semiotics, time, wordplay, writing

THE SKY BUCKLES

The physics Professor
cabled the poet, said

you writers have no insight
into the nature of things
(once the great Lucretius passed
that great understanding gone
sadly lacking)

told him off sharply for his deployment
of preposterous verb after preposterous verb

dragging the no sense
down into nonsense

dim place
without true knowledge of processes
(“the sky buckles
the Earth speaks

what nonsense is
this”)

such false pride, devious ego assumptions,
same as with the climbers who
stumble in the death zone descent
die like flies
(not that flies can reach them
or decay ever

the minus sign that withholds
the fair redistribution of their atoms

so great an outlay on
the right to die without real dignity

whilst I can (here we go with these verbs again)
sink into the soft demolishment of self
the loosening, untethering of all memories
that the
winds might take them blow
them from the summit like
freshly-fallen snow

subtract me from that consciousness
that is little more than
delusion of matter, philosophical
abstraction

deploying to this end all
your verbs rigidly Newtonian, constitutionally-approved,

there to
beat all the sympathy, empathy
out of me
hard Nature in

that the course you have charted (calculating
mass as opposed to energy)
might bring me to
the mirror of the truth that
governs all
seemingly evolving

get those selfish, time-denying atoms, to speak
only when
spoken to

adamant in their madness
that they
are here (voicing as collective)

to
speak what
needs to be spoken

and so will,
must speak

perforce express

(and if the sky buckle fearing the
fake power of this medium

let these verbs have
their way

let each
do its worst)

LIKE A LANGUAGE

Tags

FREUD, Language, poem, poetry, psychoanalysis, semiotics, Unconscious

LIKE A LANGUAGE

the unconscious is
structured like
a
language

is deus
ex machina

is reductio
ad absurdum

is fee fie foe
words and verbs

is a
tree with
infinite roots
exploding into
rain forest

Oh your
shadows and demons

on your breath they
suppress me

slipping in and
out of your speech

wrapped around participles
and gerunds like snakes mating

and so
to the poem

that thing
of slurred nonsense

that leaf that fell on the back
of psychoanalysis when
in dragon’s blood
it was bathing

NEIN

Tags

poem, poetry, satire, War, wordplay

WINNING

Tags

erotic, poem, poetry, power, Sexual, wordplay

WINNING

She jumped on me
(more a soft lunge, no
bones broken)

told me, anyway,
there was nothing she
could not fix
and was here
to fix me

in truth, however,
we were there, called
open to fix each other

and so we did what needed to be done
over and over, tryout
after tryout
practicing and revising

gently competitive: keeping
careful score, but neither
too particular as
to who might be “winning”.

SUBTRACT ME

Tags

death, Ending, female, Fragmentation, identity, irony, loss, love, mathematical, Mathematics, meaning, Metaphor, philosophical, poem, poetry, power, Pythagoras, Sexual, Unity, wordplay

SUBTRACT ME

would that you would
subtract me, retract me

not divide
nor subdivide me

so divisive when
you do so
whether long
or short

or all the way down
to the absurdum of
lowest
common denominator

assigning
minus sign

my neck hung around
like dog in the proverb
taking my preordained place
in the negative
column

this negative space
what
in my
case
could be
more iconic?

where better
to split hairs, split atoms
balance
the equation?

countermand the stridency of
ego as infinity
absolutely plus one

though if we were to
deconstruct, go descant
suddenly
sing a tangent

from cheap
seat in the margins

(for which always the poetic risk
of becoming drawn, and quartered)

full-throat the love
that is such a
tough customer
when it
come to quantification

that sweetest voice
not always disembodied

even if
counterintuitive, counterfactual,
beyond definition

and yet
still mathematical

as it carves me up
as you
carve me
up
as you always do

me and you together
not a simple matter of
multiplication or
addition
thing in my
brain
going back to Plato
back to Pythagoras

my hand on
your hypotenuse
saying it
“does not compute”

MEDLEY

Tags

art, innuendo, meaning, Metaphor, Music, poem, poetry, Reader, wordplay

MEDLEY

wish I were
a musician

I could find your
theme, compose
you a melody

if artist
I could paint your
fine features
on canvas or
across your skin

if poet
I might mumble
a few words
of relevance

words to
take you to
your storehouse
of tastes, touches
feelings
collected

sweetly, sadly,
perfectly as
memory

words to take you
words that
are the key

OUT

Tags

Alien, art, poem, poetry, Reader, text, transformation

OUT
“we have learnt nothing”
Picasso

text he
downloaded

being alien
and a masterpiece
was incomparably
advanced

to read it we
had no
option
but to
become it
ourselves

love it, hate it
what does that matter
when you
are metaphor?

for final verdict, place
in the supreme
absolute canon

the jury still sitting
the jury still out

ENTIRELY

Tags

catalyst, love, poem, Poet, poetry, Reader, wordplay, writing

ENTIRELY

I am limited
would hobble to
help as
fast as my broken
legs, my limited
lines are
able to

paint your walls, hang
up portraits, lay
down carpets that
are so very
good for
soft
on your feet

would spray perfume
leave you
so uplifted, yearning
for the world
to come see
come see

you on your throne, dressed
like a Queen
and me

disappearing over the horizon
happy for a moment to have
written you entirely.

TREE

Tags

Consciousness, Creativity, History, Humanity, identity, Language, meaning, metafiction, Metaphor, metapoetic, Narrative, philosophical, poem, Poet, poetry, postmodern, postmodernist, psychological, spiritual, transformation, Universe, writing

TREE

asked a tree
if it — we — had
a history

or if we were just fictional beings in
a simulation, as Buddha
did
in fact suggest
(struggling to incarnate as
Keanu Siddhartha)

possible to
efface as
glitches in
the system

characters to be rewritten
(structural flaws
to correct)

making for something that
lends itself to
deeper analysis
better
viewing, reading
in mode
lyric, comic, tragic

or postmodern self-
reflexive that somehow
narrates itself

and so,
I asked a tree, am
still waiting in quandary

nothing as it
should be
(as many as leaves, all
its thoughts
waiting to
be
signifier signified connected

spliced and grafted,
assessed, processed)