poetry sample

my father was a ufo

arts and ego for fotos

my father was a ufo
eating passengers for tea
afore he went to bed
he ran the tale of me

my father was an aircraft ship
his arm around the sea
afore he went to bed
he ran the tale of me

my father was a hobbit dwarf
making myth for thee
afore he went to bed
he ran the tale of me

my father was the emperor
of factory 63
afore he went to bed
he ran the tale of me

my father was the counter–ghost
he warmed the winds of plea
afore he went to bed
he ran the tale of me

my father’s post computer
from the singularity
before he builds his birthing bed
he’ll run the tale of me


autumn

arts and ego for fotos

so what works when you break the day
the bitten life?

the wandering back across the town?
did you see those trees?

you just walked past
didn’t you?

spring is just some unnoticed event
buried

and summer
will that ever be more than sweat?

will the bright days merely mean
turning on the lights later?

is that all you see
electricity bills?

so where’s the blind watchmaker now?
it’s autumn you know

autumn


the A rush

eurostar

body fade dissolute
psyché to the entangled crypt
we pupate

the reflections adulated
the strange riding complexity
their unnewformability
where is the A rush

i shall be the angel of eternity
i’ll jump relighting branes
i’ll bound across the multiverse

and you shall be
born reborn
as i am the art
the A rush


fora

arts and ego for fotos

the night overlong
online fora
… la caffeine de la politique …
click drumroll

challenge comes where   where
aha ill–judged
lemme check
got him
“but the facts are …”

the loud brandish ire won’t think
the nitty argue grit irration
the black bright bloom of scar rubbed hate
& me the reference bore
but allies engage

so what’s it for
keeping mental fists fit


discard :: 1

arts and ego for fotos

possession’s ownership discarded

no longer mild nostalgia replayed
    at bored will
the listening must wait for random
    radio schedule
or rare shared taste in complexity
an intellectual heat best held
    back unfed
to audience

no more only opened by my hand
pausing shallow tales retold
nor exploration of non–
    sequential centuries
libraries will help me roll
    speculation
the texture of someone else’s
    careful dream
ingested rewritten thrown

no rectangle again captured sight
no wild land linear geometry
no raw cultivation
no mechanical ecology
these i will revisit
creating sarcastic dimensional
    click shots
sneering this plodding nation’s
    dalek bigotry


7 :: 2

arts and ego for fotos

a machine hammer
over your tomorrow’s skull
the journey

but you can duplicate
try all ways & each

clone you will

a half dozen yous
arriving all roads
goal achieved

then

dare
the yous
surrender selves
in union


clip monopoly

arts and ego for fotos

         elephant admires ant
         tries leafwalking


stanza & some
delete
elsepage font counterset
print élan erased


         elephant admires terrier
         tries ratting


pages exact select
number instruct
cum crapness delicto
selection corrupted


         elephant admires drunk
         tries pub door


hey mr mouse
i’ve a job for you


accelerating is language english

arts and ego for fotos

The fear is not of something new
but “can the mind absorb it?”.
Like helpless dreams, a tension bout,
this fear’s control, to lose it.


who dare not stand nor face it,
and call me rude, a geek or nerd,
if I declare to ride it?


And so I climb the higher path,
accelerating self.
Peacock faces worry up,
huddle. But I’ve done it. I know:


I’ve learnt the new technology,
uncared those sneering weenies.
I turn my back and grin the dawn.
I’m Gawain. They are the was.


antwerp (iii)

arts and ego for fotos

ciao
spring sun city
short affair


stretch nederlands
sprekt comradeship
spent


spring breeze table
strong food
careful colour fashion
lust buzz


& one in three
votes for hate
gets hate
baby bulleted dead


from rotted hearts
to luxembourg
bourgeoisie shire
empire


Nursery Verse For Nursery Heads

arts and ego for fotos

Hear the twinkles scrambled down
     for cash alone,
a have-to-scratch, a keeps–on–itching
     scab of sound,
the lyrics rhyme like you’re a cat
and someone’s stamping on your tail
;
nursery verse for nursery heads.

Those sneering noises still fix anger
     in my thoughts
with junky tunes injected every spin;
they empty sensibility
like acid empties eyes:
nursery verse for nursery heads.

Oh, consumer kings,  oh  how
     you show respect
to those addicted to your same again:
nursery verse from nursery heads.


lines stride yellow

arts and ego for fotos

         the roads of then bright
         walk age i
         planners’ map lines stride yellow
         “buses route there”

i shall break your bus
the sister

         school order
         commerce green bus
         blow round home queue
         fare eaten plead

we shall unmake your bus
the council

         if i plain proud
         unlucked begin no fool
         a do what i can man
         i’d responsibility care bus drive

we shall fust your bus
the state

         the once road many go
         bus now stride
         on plan yellow
         assumpted at long past rose


New Year’s Eves

arts and ego for fotos

In a pub of pensioned men
and stale décor,
two newly women enter:
one fires her smile.

She’s young and tough,
and her hair says she’s trying too hard,
and she’s occupying clothes
that leave so much caress undressed:
she’s raw, her own self–portrait.

But that glance was mercantile:
I was about to buy a drink.
Yet the smile was welcome,
like the scent of shocked basil
on a humid summer day.


big town blues (xxviii)

arts and ego for fotos

a land
     of bright
          sky swings

the ropes may be contrails
     nothing more
          that frozen adventures

falling out the back of
     disappointed
          holidaymakers

but the seats are
     hard and solid
          dedicated myth

the kind
     that kill
          by inattention

i walk across them everyday
     ice on a black bridge
          three stories up


sore did

arts and ego for fotos

i’m out of the colour red
my eyes see early blue in faces
green and sky  black rain


i’m out of the taste of hot
all is turmeric and cheese
no coffee  no chilli  no wild


i’m out of the shine in eyes
mine i think  everywhere i look
half life automaton  stagger at shop


i’m out of the shock of cold rain
no that’s  i need the shock of cold rain
it’s time for november  it’s time for ice


it’s time for that scream of the skin


plein [B] (i)

arts and ego for fotos

a sow

laden with flush
heavy motherhood

sat on a sofa
across

i awaited piglets
motion squeak eager

but no
was seeing

swirl pattern
curtain collar

soft pink shirt
blood red buttons

a man
there’d be no wee

battering about
just snarky comments

later


skelet centraal

arts and ego for fotos

tally was 2 u–boats and a minky
acquire all male pups

          skelet kabinet
          vakantie zee
          speel met enorme ballonnen

loss of the country’s largest tourist
invest in delusional

          skelet kabinet
          mijn grootste bol
          garage en pressie atmosfeer

species had a haremic
extinction followed a condom

          skelet centraal
          de ballon vloog
          boven het meer

inverness police suspect the terrorist
noise abatement society


mechelen shine

mayo

moonshine fire cathedral
mechelse embleem
my goodbyeing purrtrips stone low doors
gloom loom

walk short emptiness de markt
de grote markt

this wrong town too
i’ll rue depart

and heavyland target
are you om kirke? te deum?
and the living AWK your reputation counters
your architecture states
am you error?
is ever am dragmove error?
ever’s gaan?
error?
error?

ik zal zien

ancient front