Tuesday, August 19, 2008

indecent exposure

caught in a flash
the young man
a metal cup in his hand
tripping on a rock
in the background an indian scene
robbed of colour or poison
stained by the butter fire
riddled with serpents

caught in his hand
the fire, the serpent
a moment of squirming electricity
then released and lost
to quiver out across reality
the unblinked eye
the clock caught motionless
and without pardon

a tiger's tail caught in flame
an ancient temple
more ancient - the air inside
stroked by the lungs of sages
respiring the ageless mantras
loosening the binding maya
allowing a burden to fall
crashing onto the stones

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

To a Distant Unnamed Galaxy (NGC 4945)


when i found you
a filament
amid the absolute black
it took a while
to be convinced it was you

your three hundred billion suns
don't shine much
across seventy six million trillion miles
you could be mistaken
for a speck of fluff
on a lady's dark velvet jacket

others don't see
the beating heart
held within a chrysalis of ice
you seem disinterested
to those
who have not known you

but i have long pondered
your spiral form
and deduce
this is a trap set to seduce

you are drawing us in
drawing us all in
my mind is bent to you
i am in orbit
fit to please you
i don't intend to escape
the blended smoke
i draw into my nostrils
the creatures summoned here
are all under your command
for the pleasure of your nebula
is so impotent
i could spend my whole life
in its fantasy
and never look away

Monday, March 3, 2008


you can perch on her
all you insects
that consider her
tasty or divine
and she'll not swot you

you can rest
on her
and she'll move
trying not to disturb

although of course
she could
grind you to paste
or flick you away
mortally injured

it is not her desire
it is not nor her will
to cause you harm

in this respect
she is like the others of her kind
only when they are dead

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Iapetos Writes in Erasmus' Dream (excerpt)

From out o’ the wishing well
They emerged, spotted in black hides
of mouths flickering with flamingo flame
And by long iron leaps they flew
Into our world through the red eye
Of new sadness, of ash and confetti

With hands pressed together
Across oceans now they gallop like thunder
Creating palaces of disaster where they pause
To suckle the black milk of our mother’s breast
From whose own blood, and hair
They make a thin cake, a currency of blood
On one side “War” the other “Peace”
All as in the image of their dream

Beyond the far hills, not obscured by rust
Lies a cave, cool and remote
Where sits, to this day
A figure made as if from clay
Beside a ruined colour wheel and flag

And in his dream
He sees the hordes
Emerging from out of the well of deep wishes
With hands pressed together
He sees the stealthy ravens are streaming
From their oval mount for a feast
And Saint Madonna is collecting her plucky chickens
from the shore of the great pubescent sea, of men
turning as in sleep
To rise before the wall of fire