the black poem

the wooden bucket
filled with goop
a black panther
eventide troop

great green overalls
half wit pike spill trident
the coal lump, coated
to keep the black out

fast forward
a gigantic spleen
brief frenzied gope
a big baked bean,

a black nugget
small dark and soft
resting in the hand
plucked from the earth

a form like folded cloth
resinous, with a snake's skin
tight and light
absorbent

lines folded on one another
a complex knot of meaning
raw, drawn straight out of the ground
still with a crust of gangue

a blinking eye
gazing up from the deep well
or a reflecting star
or my own reflection

for how can we know
if time came to pass
the size of her cope
the pleasure of grass

still wanted you
didn't cope well
saturated fat palm oil
we're all being scammed

the big century {the soft pulse of meaning, quietly drawn into itself, like a creature]
opening wide
take in the plaster
fake it abide

open penelope
open for me
don't walk away
keep it all free

ghost poet writing
upon a dark ground
the winner has frozen
the loser is found

how happy it was
the old burra day
remember it baby?
it's all flown away

now grinds in the future
a train to nowhere
the driver is stupid
i've not paid my fare

hold out your hand
we'll spin once again
i'm not even sorry
i don't have a plan

the endless tide rising
drink in the days
the pathos the pathos
it's all washed away

the endless tide rising
drink in the swell
i feel like i've swallowed
a 40 foot whale

be brief don't unpick it
there is no true story
a feast for a forest
a possum of glory

the autos the path
don't think but do write
the meaning is hidden
inside the dark night

a grass snake a fit
a pumpkin to ride
a spade is a spade
and i'm ready for five

be giggling a moment
i'll undo your dress
in haste and in youth
the taste is the best

a hole in the wall
i kicked it i'm sorry
be empty my true one
i'll tell you the story

forthwith forthwith
unkind and unfriendly
emptying my mind
of the posturing telly

i can't scribe so well
got caught in a rhythm
it's taken all over
like butter and clover

will empty into fast days of plagiarism
i must give my poem to the people
it is not good enough to know everything
the mundane poisons me, i need tragedy
but don't give me what i want

frightened people do dark things
Rousseau explained it well when he said
"this sublime reasoning
soars above the heads of the common people"
(so give them god)

inexplicable writing nonsense
is this my own mind now?
a nonsense machine?
i feel like Coleridge in the later years
which gives me more comfort than it should

Carthage was a mere trade town
Rome burned
Paris was like a beautiful flower
London is a warm hearth

i used to have a frission
but now after years at home
being a father and working in an office
i have nothing to say

except -- here at the centre
here at the very heart
it is cool

madness does overtake the world
there is likely going to be murder
the spin dryer is speeding up
but here at the heart
it is cool

in the garden of the heart
it is cool
at night i like half awake
and cross my legs in half lotus
lying on my back still
and visit arunagiri

^

2020 vision

conjunction of Pluto-Saturn-Jupiter around the 21st September
notwithstanding
there is something going down this year

the money now collected into the fewest hands
according to a system which has rewarded the biggest lie, ahem best marketing,
and the lie it spins and spins faster its tale
the liars tale, to create the great confusion
this is going down now like sewage into the throats of the commuters
the great smog of the lie
the great normality gas spinning "everything is fine"
while the world burns up
"everything is under control"
naked humans glued to their screens holding their pizza boxes
as the world spins and burns and the guilt of the lie
will burn bright purple like sulphur and smoke will fill the air
making every eye weep tears of ash

my oracular inner eye spies into the smoke--
sees the learned leaves of civilisation come fluttering down
nature folded into black ruins, the oceans turned to acid
choked with plastic debris, its feeling creatures dying slowly
while the rich eventually from boredom turn on each other
eating each other, crushing the proles underfoot as they fight
like toddlers with world-destroying bombs
unleashing the chemical means to an inevitable end

logging off twitter, i am sitting in the kitchen
the nice smells of a biryani rising from the pan
through the window, green leaves and a cool breeze
and the chatter of local children, making their plans for the holidays
all of time stretching before them, endless days of play
as if life is just a dream, and it is
we need to give over having and keeping the nice things
forever and ever, clutching our 'wealth'
our hands covered in blood, our memory creased into our brow
not knowing the very fact of air.

everything i now do in this life
is about delaying the collision of these three worlds
for as long as is possible.

does dog exist?

The right response to this is to enquire of what is meant by 'dog' ?

There is a coalition of dogs within the universal 'dog', a cadre of puppies.

Or if dog is merely the letter 'd' in close proximity to an 'o' and a 'g', then it resides on the page here and there.

Perhaps you had a particular dog in mind? or perhaps you were looking for the ideal dog? Do we include the ancestral dogs? the primitive doglike animals? do we include statues of dogs? Do the individual organs of a dog constitute "dog"? How many parts of a dog is sufficient to be a complete dog? can we take away one leg and a tail and and ear and still have a dog?

Likewise also, what is the point of 'exist' - exist like a physical being?

There are plenty who go about life as if dogs exist. they build dog houses, they buy dog food, they make pilgrimages to the dog park. We may have never seen their dog, but their actions are real, so the source of their action is a reality also.  Let's not quibble over who or what has actually seen or been 'seen'.

Here is the question of 'exist' for if this means 'i have seen with my two eyes' then lots of things don't exist, atoms don't exist, emotions don't, scents don't.

As you add senses why not add one more - the 'dog' sense, which allows the presence of dog to be felt.

What are we really getting at with 'dog'? What is the whole matter of dogness? Can we really get away from this? Would life be essentially the same without dogs? Do alien civilisations have dogs? Can dogs be gods?

a trick worth remembering

at the moment of our death
we review our life
and choose one moment
to live in eternally

but the trick is this:

don't look back at all
choose the moment of death
to live in and be free
from both life and death

ἡ βίβλος found in a vault on Φόβος

COD

whomsoever is the most
 beautiful of them all
to that one
 i do pranama

whomsoever is the most fully conscious
of all the consciousnesses
to them i do pranama

whomsoever is the calmest
of all those who are calm
to them i do pranama

whomsoever is the most loving
so also the most loved of all things
to them i do pranama

whomsoever understands the most
of all those who understand
to them i do pranama

whomsoever understands the most
of all those who understand
to them i do pranama

whomsoever is the most genuine
of all those who are humble
to them i do pranama

whomsoever is most doubting
of all those who doubt
to them i do pranama

whomsoever is the most rational
of all those who reason
to them i do pranama

whomsoever has all of these qualities
to the greatest degree
to them i do pranama

whomsoever is the most immortal
of the mortals
to them i do pranama

aham etat praṇāmāmi

that which exists most completely
whatever that is
to that i do pranama

that which is the greatest truth
of all the truths that exist
to that i do pranama

that which measures the great and small
and sets the frame for all things
to thad i do pranama

that unknown which eludes my understanding
and will always remain beyond knowledge
to that i do pranama

that which is most pleasing
which gives most pleasure
to that
i make pranama

whichever gives us freedom
whichever reveals us the truth
to that
i make my pranama

that which is most deserving
of pranama
whatever that is
to that i do pranama


that which prompts compassion in me
that which prompts reason in me
that which prompts love in me
that which prompts peace in me
that which gives me strenght
that, whatever it is
it does exist
and to that i do pranama

The Fire

there is an eternal fire which cleanses even as it destroys
it is a light which shines into and penetrates all things
the wise
who wish not to be burned
tread carefully around it

that which seeks the fire
will indeed find and bathe in the fire

that which seeks to empower itself
by its own efforts
will bathe in the fire

that which enrobes its truths
in falsehoods
that when it is found out
will bathe in the fire

that which is blind
yet wilfully leads others
that one and those being led
will walk blindly
into the portal of fire

The Truth

they who seek the good, verily they will find the truth

the first child of truth is reality

the second child or reality is reason

through reason, mixd with human blood, order and justice can defeat chaos

the child of order and justice is society

when society turns its back on truth, it destroys itself

all societies shall venerate truth above all
as their basis for their own existance

truth is elusive, it is enigmatic,
it is difficult, it is great
and it certainly exists.

The Priesthood

The guardians of truth are the poet sages
The guardians of reason are the philosophers
the guardians of reality are the scientists

the scientists

their church is the universe
their scripture is a logical empiricism
their prayers are in mathematical formulae

The scientists can protect us from the dark forces of nature.

All hail the scientists who stare into the night sky with wonder
all hail the scientists who have saved us from countless diseases
all hail the scientists who have unlocked the secrets of atoms

the philosophers

their church is the mind
their scripture is language itself
their prayers are arguments

the philiosophers can guide and debate the decisions that humans must make

all hail the philosophers and their clear wisdom, sharper than the spear
all hail the philosophers and their questing for understanding without bounds
all hail the philosophers, who were the first scientists

The poet sages

their church is beyond the mind
their scripture is beyond language
their prayers are neither poems nor are they the silence of absent poems

all hail the poet sages who are always laughing
all hail the poet sages who seek the truth by other means
all hail the poet sages who were the first philosophers

The darkness

the multitude do not know
when it began
the multitude do not know
when it will end

but the location is known
in the darkness is the seed
and in the darkness is the grave
what is in between
is like a star floating in the void

the unknowing darkness
welcomes all
 like a blind mask

it is beyond death
and beyond fear
its qualities are not truths
or falseties
but Null

Its avatar in this world is chaos
(though there is no true chaos)
it's dead hand is that of the asteroid impact
or the callous flow of endless time

other avatars are the colour that is almost black,
like the night sky on a very dark night
its presence is in the rich scent of rotting things
it is there at moment of death or birth
and in the deepest moment of sleep
but it is also certainly in none of these things

the darkness does not care
for our worship or recognition
yet it is not unworthy of worship

Consciousness

The consciousness is the manifestation of time in the mind
like shifting sands it is animate in all beings and all things
though it exists in many places and times it is only one
 as one we experience the consciousness
 as one we are a unity of countless minds and objects
 as one we join that which is experienced and that which is experiencing
 as one we create reality through our consciousness
 as one we are created as consciousness by reality

consciousness is not material yet it realises the material
consciousness is not mental yet it realises the mental
through consciousness both mental and material become existent
in the one eye of consciousness all the universes exist and cease to exist
the movement of time is the touch of consciousness
the memory of this movement is called matter

The laughter

the rising laughter is like the rising sun
it emerges from the well of the soul
and brightens the mind with pure light
through the seven portals it emerges effortlessly
there is no wall that can contain the laughter
like hydrogen it pervades the earth
with the gaseous memory of bliss

i am become

walking through the world like a dream
the path is clear
i am inside
the mind creatures play
circling like ravens
and extending my hands
i touch the stone
then sink beyond it

oh my love
i wish it could be just us
without complexities
my hand in your hand
my voice joined with your voice
your eyes meeting mine
this sadness
is like a slow undertow
meaning
i wish i was with you tonight

the path

each step on the path is a science
like every thought
the balance must be struck
intuitively but rationally
with feeling and with knowledge
calling on memory, calling on hope
this is the path to the end
we launch ourselves on it
not knowing where it leads
our feet softly feeling the way
until the knowledge comes
and the uncertainty drops away
this is called meditation
meditation on the crux

the heart has a voice
and the mind has a voice
tongues are tied
but the path knows the way
don't doubt
and don't fear
for the walker
makes no steps
because there is nowhere to go

I am following my truth
it eats into my body
until I am lighter than air
I don't eat
I don't drink
I breathe
and I exist

There is a following
it seeks freedom
but it is drawn to the false pretender
how do we recognise the false?
the false one seeks adoration
the false one makes promises
the false one sees who you are
and knows when you doubt

don't swallow the golden words
don't believe the big dream
it is never as simple as love or hate
beyond both is the plain adoration
of a thousand homes

we have come from far places
we have shown ourselves
trust us, don't speak
the language does not exist
that can share our understandings


the jewel

A mass movement is like a smoke
it obscures the true landscape of things
keep quiet, they are watching
keep the secrets to yourself
a hidden secret is like a jewel in the ground
it may lie undisturbed for a century
but when unearthed at last
it captures the sun as it always did

the howl

there was a hope
we lost it on the way
i kept it inside
now what will happen is this:
the darkness it will spread
the living will hide or be swallowed
they will play
the Sun will revolve over the Earth
the mice
will play
until the old Gods arise
Hope, Love, Peace, and War
they will take back the Earth
and the new age will begin.

z

wanting sleep
i go to the zoo
but all the animals there
are wide awake

the spider monkeys
are wanking
and watching
a human crowd

the torque
grinding to a halt
like a tired
beached wave

dolt

put the penis in there
then see how we chop it off
it's a nice surprise -- see!
now you try.

i very gently engage the handle
and with one effortless snip
i am become a whole woman

with blood on the floor
and a chopped off penis
i put it in the bin on the way out
'enjoy your new life'
the nice attendant says

i walk through town
leaving a trail of blood
idly looking in the window of a few shops

when i notice he's looking at me
the hairy man with a red nose
(i can see him in the reflection)

i start to run but it's getting late
he just keeps following i catch a quick look
think he has a knife in his hand

so i start trotting and rush towards a bar
press in through the door
it's warm inside i sit down and order

a gin and tonic. but then i notice everyone looking
groups of guys, there's blood all over my legs
of course so i finish my drink

and open my handbag and grab my phone
then quickly call the number
which is the number of the bomb

and the entire bar explodes killing everyone
except me as it is a special man bomb
(it only kills men as it targets dicks) so i am quite safe

walking over the entrails and broken glass
i nearly slip in my new high heels
but steady myself on a piece of man's jugular hanging from the window

it's not a very firm support
but it'll do for a few seconds
while i regain control