Friday, 15 January 2010

Your amours.

All our pasts are chequered,
But yours still has the pieces
On the board.


Never known anything
Or held anything

You know how we were earlier.

Curtains blowing out beyond the newly
Opened frame,
Billowing swifter than a military ideal
Without restraint,
Instantly recognized and turned away
Before their touching
And issued orders to restore themselves
To where they used to be.

Venerable beads of sweat well spilt
To seal their service
Drawn forth from furrowed brows upraised,
Belonging to reservists,
Conscripted by quick opportunists in slow
In place of those professionals on
Overseas vacations.

Applied lightly over carpets cut from
Ancient Persian rugs,
Which have been thrown around the room
Instead of psychedelic drugs,
And used primarily to keep the window
Cleaners from appealing
For a cask of clear water to stop
Smeared windows from concealing.


This word of news
I wish disbelieved,
Its text corrected,
Effects rejected,
And fast.
Its facts detracted,
Vacuum packed,
And sent back.

Would be aspirant.

Believe in one you know
Is true,
And is unbelieving.
Receive them in your arms
And know
They’re the ones receiving.

Reflect on it too long,
And someday
You’ll stop reflecting.
Affection for your love
Is what
You should be effecting.

Aspire to hold them high
And who
Can deny you your aspirations.
Retire a younger man
And you
Can enjoy your incarnation.

Worn down.

I’ve got sun stroke again,
..But with more ashen skin.
I’ve got heat waves aplenty,
..But my oven’s empty.
I’ve got alcohol poisoning,
..But am abstaining noisily.
I’ve got me obesity,
..But I’m starving hungry.
I’ve got all sex easily,
..But I’m verging on celibacy.

I’ve got order in my wardrobe
..But chaos in my choice.

I’ve got a political degree,
..But I’ve found voter apathy.
I’ve got religious tolerance,
..But at heathens I’m hollering.
I’ve got feelings of equality,
..But I hate all people equally.
I’ve lived amongst the global soup,
..But longed for a more tribal group.
I’ve run nothing like a racist,
..But am purveying for the basest.

I thought I had it honestly,
..But I think I’ve been deforesting.

World made well.

This is the world we made
When the sweet opened my eyes
And the salt bit deep your tongue.

This is the sun that shines down,
And here comes the rain.
There is the sea we swam in,
And here is the sand.

These are the clothes we stood in,
And left where they fell down.
This is the bed we loved in;
There are the clothes we lived in,
And left where they were.
This is the summer knowledge
That is all we’ll require
To face what will follow.

This is the world that remains
From the start
Now that time of our lives has
Gone back to its place,
And all that is mine is yours.

Worked upon.

What a colourful dovetail
Up close we are,
What a wonderful shovel
We make,

And the last of a handful of hopefuls,
We are,
Now the rest have been turned
Into rakes.

Whole man.

He got to his age without any reason to weep,

To this place with no guiding sign post to bide,

And his face with never a furrow or frown.

To his gait without any haste or horse bolt,

And his taste with no sense of smell to speak of,

To his case with never a care for defence,

And his fate without any concept of fear.

With whims of change.

Now you’re fine;
Is your mind at peace now?
Once you’ve found a reason
Is easier to deal with
Than impulse.

With crocodile eyes.

We made the best
of a bad job
worse than before

By arresting
those bastards
who were cursing the war,

As the yes
men and actors
burst down the door,

We detested
our actions, but
first came the war.


There’s truth in that man’s mouth,
Yes there is,
And it’s keeping open arms,
And it’s looking straight at me,
When all I have to give
Is failing in the sea,
That we filled
When we lost faith.

Which project?

Where anything intended
To offend us
Will be synchronised
And sanitised,
And everyone who is
Anyone will be
Able to believe in
The relieving of the faith.

Where is our thinking?

Knowing without doing,
Is worse than not
Doing without caring,
Is like staying but still
Caring without saying,
Is worse than not
Saying without lying,
Is like reaping without

When vice is verse.

If you should be accosted by
An accident along your way,
Sent with your perfume upon it
By persons of grand address,
Then do not fear for your repair,
As the lost possibilities of
Years past are with you.
Correct your recovery position
Before being air lifted,
And never complain about the
Assassins aim, as it is not theirs,
But the same as all employment:
To bring you to your knees before
Its reach.
Therefore out gain yourself in your
Affairs and reverse old intentions;
Not with violence or ignorance or
Cheap impersonations,
But with the words of those
Fallen before you,
And you will find
You never succumb to chance
Once you welcome choice.

Warm dawn.

A listless day
That will not wake
Or furthermore refresh;
A restless night
About to take
The flavour from your flesh.
Intense events
Unfold themselves
In front of every face;
Tormented fences
Render them
Obscure and erased.

Vernal equinox.

Whether attributed to the one or
The contributing mouths of many,
The words remain the same;
Confirming the unending desire of
The human spirit: the requirement
And acquiring of love and peace
And complete honesty.
Serene in theory and direct in
Action, when acted upon directly,
Affecting the soul perfectly,
Converting the mass correctly.

In spite of the divisions and schisms of
Fallen empires and risen,
This is the paragon that remains
At the heart of our society;
Shaping the seasonal calendar
According to conditions, incorporating
Pagan traditions and Christian revisions,
Whilst producing the same conclusions:
Respect for the next human being,
And the panacea of love;
At one with the world we are in
And the one following.


There will be no edge for me to cling to
Once emptiness dares me so far
As to balance myself against
The oncoming fray.

For I’ve lost more than profound things
And obtained lesser soundings,
Persuaded and convinced
By greater fakers.

Upon a child killer’s death.

Apparently Lucifer was spotted
At your death bed side
With his glistening penis,
And putrid smile.

Grinding his hooves,
And grooming his pelt,
And licking his lips
At the state of events.

Until I am undone.

If you want to move away,
But find the time and tide astray;
If you’re swallowing to stay,
Then that’s alright by me.

If the mirror’s clear to see,
Indicating apathy,
If it turns to look at me,
Then baby I’ll be free.

If a hopeful man appears,
Out of any hemisphere,
If his novelty adheres,
Baby I will cheer.

Funny frequent anger hides
Whenever you expose your mind,
Maybe I should show you mine,
Baby I will try.