Saturday, 24 March 2012

strange and erratic conversation with self

 
If you could just come out and say it,
just drop a shell and feel well,
but you don't ,
clichés have a way to assume truth,
Hemingway assumed truthfully,
for you it is the tolling of the bell:
suppressed, life a bitch and fell,
yeah, you  probably right, it is just hell.
If you did not the make the effort,
I would never tell,
Your soul you made cheap and sold it for a dime,
now you want to console yourself
with this fucking silly rhyme.

Thursday, 8 March 2012

18/10












I did not allow you to become human,


I covered your eyes, your face


and the scream I intercepted with a cloth,


the 18/10 bayonet steel entered


you diligently and stopped when


it hit the Oregon pine,


the last breath whistled through


the punctured lung,


a fountain


of juice splattered my face,


and this is where you probably died,


I opened your face, now a staring mannequin,


Those we practiced on and killed many times


in the class and the field,


I could not allow you to be human,


Hope you understand.

Sunday, 19 February 2012

in a decent world: slang





My sister the prostitute,

yes that one that pisses behind the stand,

My brother the junkie,

yes that one shooting up behind the platform

My elder, the drunkard,

yes that one fading out like the last gambling horse on the losing straight,

My Mother,My father,

yes those two leaving me for madness,negligence and hurt,

Yes all of you and the host of murderers,rapists,robbers and the other wild, unbalanced scum of this earth....

you taught me and I thank you

Subduing my unwilling eyes,
crushing my fleeing heart,
shattering my soul

All of you taught me what no

Guru,
sensei,
priest,
doctor,
righteous person could teach me...

To fight,
survive,die,burn
rise,bloom against the gloom, doom,
to love against the bitter odds.

Yeah, they say it is a decent world,
civilized and advanced but if you asked me
I would tell it in your face :
The humanities are a dumb ass tale for the sufferers,

So.... it is me standing here now
Scared,scarred but enlightened
I stretch out my arms to give affection
And none expected,
none offered in return

Amen,shalom,namaste,Hare Krishna,ohm shanti and fuck you.

being





I can be a warrior, a butterfly and a feminine dancer of midnight songs.
I can be a man,a child and a reclining creative longing for your lap.
Will you ever know my secret?

the others


As the corners becomes rounded
we come out of the shadows
our peace are disturbed
now visible to the world
we are red flagged
identified as a threat
it is only a matter of time
before they crucify and burn us
we have no place in the declining world.

Sunday, 29 January 2012

I am paradox


a spoon rattles

solitary

and a pot

seeks his lid

the cluttered aspire

to emptiness

the empty wants

to be filled.

I

long

for

nothing

I

am

Paradox

Saturday, 28 January 2012

loving poetry?



Like all beautiful sluts
she is going to drive you crazy
burn you with a chronic fever

bring you down
to
your
knees

She will :

Play you
Love you
Fuck you
Leave you

when she is done with you
you will crawl back to her with a snot nose
begging her punish you more

because she cries
out of a centre you never knew existed

You feel alive when she crucify you.
you are a poet and she is the muse

It is not an easy relationship.
I told you so

She works for the editors
Stiletto monsters
Mothball ties
High beat soldiers
Bohemian punks

Get out if you can