Cover

Learn how to occupy less space.

Gorge on oil rich pickings, well traveled.

Or devour glossy puss forking Pandora’s bowl of junk

Smile, you’re on rented time and place.

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Homo sapien’s last gasp

This is homo sapien’s last gasp

Upfront it leads the pack

Doesn’t care for

These new identities

All this adaptability

Homo sapien doesn’t

Recognise change

Or its own evolution

It’s lost and afraid

Grasps on to its status rock. 

Lashes out

Rattles

Its own offspring

God knows

This is no revolution

This is homo sapien’s exit

A thousand generations crash

Into their own past

Witness the birth

Of its children’s child

Defined by its survival

And its parents’ inability

To recognise

We’re two different species

Fear and hope

Walking upright, forwards

Along this tightrope.

Rose garden

This rose garden is an aberration of nature,

So much beauty for one acre,

But there are spaces where we come and go and make repair.

Some people fear revolution,

They forget or never felt the hunger that came before,

Here we remember what blooms when everything’s blunt and bare.

What’s a poem?

Reaching out from itself it sits square

In the brisk dusk of a bus station

Waiting for a number 44 or a 45.

http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/44.html

http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/45

The Demise of the English Language: from Geoffrey Chaucer to Donald Trump

Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote,
The drochte of March hath perced to the roote,
I’m gonna grab her pussy
Cos she’s a piece of ass.

By heart

Perched on tiptoes, filled to the brim,
Then, just in time, the drawing in

Of milky heat and daylight din,

The birches, like old urns, displayed

The awful truth, cracked and crazed,

Of beauty to poem to memory made.

Static

Is compassion wedded to memory? In a tangle of synthetic I hold on to the flashes of static when it’s too hot for layers and wonder if solitude is not the nurtured child of forgetfulness and pride.  Sometimes I need a jolt just to make nerves meet and remember.

Earth’s fair

Dense is the cloud

The light’s  thrown off

And cold the sea

And rough.

Thrown into tracks

The frontwinds steer

The phoebes North

To South.

Caught up in net

The warbler lies

Like death in stitch

And throttle.

The ships on glass

Pass through the yard

The word less strum

And battle.

Ego

I was told to leave it outside

It was bound to get in the way.

I used to think that would be nice,

But dream on. It’s here to stay.

Now I realize it’s essential,

You mustn’t nurse it.

That overblown balloon.  Burst it.
Let it float up to the corner of the room.

A drone.  And be the first to pop

Your own.

In Birnam Wood

Lips stuck in mock stop, O!
Crisis?  What crisis?
You say, Nothing a good bit of
Spirit and craft won’t cure.
You say, The problem with people
These days is their lack of… grit?
You say, They can’t see what
I’ve had to endure.
So fair and foul a day.

You’re tough like glass
But not unbreakable. I’ve
Seen the tears when
Your worldview falls through.
I’ve watched you sweep it clear
When truth with all its
Hard matter and fact
Threatens to crack your
Veneer.  Crazed sneer.

The wood sways.  Afraid in its fog.
What does town say?
Alarmed and armed contempt
Does come this way.