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Innocence

In churches, temples and synagogues
Throughout the land
They are burning innocence.

Innocence sticks.

The dutiful mumble rumbles on
Backward glancing, kow-tow shuffle.
Dancing to his masters song
Snuffling for the holy truffle.

 

Disclaimer

Alternative myths are always needed
Otherwise our hearts, unweeded,
Run riot and bloom in anarchic longing
For a place undreamt that we belong in.
Suffering in a silence here that deafens questions, beckons fear.
And spins a self protective sock to weather time (as time conspires)
To hold you from your kindred flock of windblown fliers.
*
With the dignity of a stranger
You walk and grow
With but one disclaimer:
Forgive me for
I have a
postdarwiniangeneticpredisposition!
You exclaim
To anyone who would
Stop and listen.
*
Toward the comfort of consonance:
Mumming allknowledgeisselfdefeating!
Or
Some such searching
Something.

 

Fa'dOrothy

Acid, yes I suck your wise,
Your steeliquies and perfect lies!
Puritanically bohemian and cruel,
Punishing the inner fool with outer fools.

Whither did I wither? Spitting threads of lucid gore
through the eye of a Manhattan Needle.
Weather, was it weather? A surly nod to wisdom? Or
did you try on your man, hat and needs eh?

Now the Algonquin rooms are tourist traps,
Your oldest haunts are on the maps.
Fado, fado, fa'Dorothy
The city loved you, yes indeed.


Onion

(Speech without apodosis)
Join the dots.
If ...
You can determine the term
In the spaces between them,
Pendulous globs of silence strung,
The bullet belt of the ranters tongue gun.
Only ...
(Lacks resonance.)
Hair and fingernails;
Keratin timepieces.
The cyclic bailiwick of change.
You ...
Weren't what you are
Was I?
(Speaking with droning hypnosis)
Frozen in the blinding glare of truth,
With sandwiches wrapped in cellophane
And loose
Change clinking.
The dart of envy detonated.
Perhaps your love was over-rated,
Under-used and coruscated.
Perhaps you should have,
Could ...
An investigation be undertaken?
When all is one,
The gazer and the gazed upon.
When even now
You suffer from
Connectivity susceptibility.
A genetic pool of irascibility
Boring into your stance,
(Bores even ants.)
...

Parthalons People


Parthalons people
Dark and ocean licked.
Sweeping in from the tundra
By secret means!
How much time elapsed?
*
Bres! Balor! Elatha
I can still see you ahead,
Marching on the Tuatha
De Dannan at Mag Tuired.
How much time gone by?
*
Five wheels of gold fell from the sky,
But that was after they ascended!
Even here I heard the cry, that
Escaped you as your earth form ended.
How long ago was that?
*
Trapped, forgotten
Whom amongst you could
Call to mind another like me?
Who once stood with Indech
Before the Morrigan.

 

Psyches Raper

By sketch of hand,
By dint of brute
Force, allay these
Wretched suits.
Condense my wrath,
Extrude a path,
Deluded matha-
Magician.
Convince yourself,
For we are tired
Of praying lip.
Service to your ilk
Was never free.
By posture you
Betray your chip
As being profoundly
Weighty, your shoul
Ders are oh so
Droopy neath it,
The zanappen
Dix about you
In a book
By Nietzsche.
*
Far be it for
Me to deep
Fry your ire.
*
The greengrocer’s Atlas
Seeks a fishwife
To manage his legumes
And do what must be done.
He struggles under
Neath the weight
Of all his fellow
Grocers hate,
Red in tooth
And gum.

 

Technofear

Ice.
No email then,
Just a frigid frisson
Crackling over everything.
Tendrils of breath curling out of either nostril.
Someone tried to boil a kettle,
It exploded.
You can't change everything.
Scatterings of depth
Unexpectedly catch the eye,
Pull you back into a kaleidoscopic trance
Drifting backwards effortlessly,
Much too readily,
To a moment ago
When everything
Was all right.
*
No-one thought it would be that easy
To be so irrevocable and complete.
No moment of insight.
Nothing in the air that wasn't
There already.
Just
Ice.

 

The Bottom Line

I reassembled myself
In my own image.
I am flawed
I am perfect
Often floored
I am surfeit
I am bored
I am affect
...ation.

 

To war! To war!
An ...ation divided once more!
We're marching up to Dublin to be seen, to be seen!
We're marching up to Dublin
For the scene, for the scene
You know the one about your one when he meets your one
It's so obscene!

*

Chokey dust, coffee lust, lemon faced sharpie
Chutney head and jaffa cake
Smell the lacy harpy

Halving time in dribs and drabs, suffuse intelligentsia.
Allowing rhyme to grow with scabs
Forsooth! I never menta.

 

Diddle De Dee

A ring! The ring of Kerry
A pocketful of tunes
An issue! An issue
We all fall down.

 

Advance Guard

"Decided in advance,
We were left with little alternative."
A sunken epithet grounded in spite
Barely protruding from the bare, earth
Damp, moss burdened stone.

Chiselled on the white mans law
Reviled defilers neglected core.

*
Shaking in our mile-torn boots
Unshouldered rifles gaze in vain
For cause or favoured cordite roots
To put an end to blood-born pain.
Just imposers!
Fair, importunate and bored. Waiting for
The window of opportunists
To turn into a door.

*
Askance, a gawk, yet fairly sane,
(Inconsequence connected proves me so)
I mustered up the energy to complain.
The 'on the fence' directive fallen low
Enough to understand the awe required
To interact successfully with giants.

*
Booming grandly through the land uprooted
Shaven-headed, para-booted.
Our minion child armed to the teeth
Barely noticed underneath
The rising tide of filth and scum,
Old ideals the new flotsam.
And jetsam jaded refugees,
A prelude to the apogee
Of hate and fear, a
Sickening release, an
Unslakeable thirst, and
Burst
Identity.

 

Autodidact

The autodidact’s downfall was
He never discovered the old rules.
And so was forever paying lip service
To well spoken fools.

He thought himself wise
To just go with the flow.
But sometimes the current leads
To a crashing flume of water
And the jaggy rocks below.

How was he to know?
How was he to avoid the fall?

When whitewater was his habitat
When growing gills was where he was at

With never a feather at all.

 

Bourgeoisie

 

I had your eulogy planned.
Your life’s work became mine -
A mission unto death.
Only to discover
You were not dead
Yet.
*
The bourgeoisie
Have deserted me
The raffish have snaffled the food,
Leaving dusted mirrors
And collar studs
In their stead.

 

 

Corrugated thinking

Another day is around the bend.
Will we never abandon
The walls that we climb?
It seems likely
For the captain goes down with the ship.
And we scampering similes
Teeth behind muscle and want,
Weft and warp,
Will flee into the night,
Into the darkest corners of humanities psyche.
Where we will watch the stalwarts drown,
Their pennants fluttering wetly in the waves.
Dog eat dog, perhaps.
But those of us who spurn the feast,
Who
Run on different fuel …
Will be watching,
Howling at the moon
When the pack devours itself.

 

Couture Monkey

Who could foretell the stipend ?
Or release all their ire in a transigent
Fellow, there is none, nor should be
Heaven forefend.
For all that shall transpire is the usual
However exotic or partial.
Out of desperation comes an unknown quantity
Precise and surprising and bold.
A horses back,
A subtle undulation underfoot
So am I to you.

Future junkie
Couture monkey
Escape plan!
Business flunky
Hearts own turnkey
Ban the ban!

 

Dead Pan

An indignant mendicant said - you can't
Do that!
Half of a laugh later I was removing his fist,
Like this...
Nyeurgh!

*
And even the steeplejack had to admire
My work.
Removing his tether the better to
Observe.

*
Fswhweeii!
Like a knife
Cut through our ears
Had a life
But it disappeared.
What's it like
To...
I've half a mind
To....
Find some kind of embrocation
To end this ghastly suppuration
This endless stream of unctuous technocrats
Who, in the act of supplication
Forget what they were making
And resort to flaunting bumptious caveats.
Or ...
Something
You ...
Have to do something.

Bnifging fugba!

Are you meshuga? Cried the beggar
Take that back!
But I couldn't, for wouldn't the savior
Be slack
Who played his hand too early? Better to be surly,
Steeplejack!

 

Foolosophy

It's a necrobiotic certainty.
The Pooterish Pooh-Bah
Pockets the dropsy.
*
Rubicon crossed by tarsus in socks, he
Cannot turn away now.
*
Sweetmeats preferred
Sweet samsara inferred,
The cannibal eats himself.
(a theomaniacs theophagy)
A driven man’s foolosophy.
Come to light only recently and
In the interest of common decency
Shelved, for the duration.
We await the peroration with
Baited eyes and painted breath.
An intimation of this self-gnawed death,
Perhaps, or grander universal schism
Penetrates our solipsism.

Awakes us to the daunting cry
Of progeny’s progeny.
How time flies!
When you're having.
*
More! They cried.
More, more.

 

Atavist

Unless you actually tell us,
Your sons and daughters,
We are bound to infer.
And though such gleanings ricochet
In fractal extrapolation,
(Intersecting with the truth today)
They ultimately leave the search
To others with more information.
*
Your fear that if left to our own devices
We'll turn to profligate advice is, evidence
If more were needed, of
Axiomatic, superseded
Fear of self, left to run riot.
To sink its roots and make a diet of you.
Forgetting in your unwieldy hymn
That we become you through atavism,
And to retreat in that direction
Takes more than lack of good protection.
A certain push and shove required to fall
Right through the time acquired.

 

Eating The Lotus

Things appear to be coming to the fore
No longer will the lotus leaf suffice
I long to disappear, to be as vagrant as before
Oh hunger will delight as leaves of ice.
*
Sharp and glittery and destined to melt
Or tart and slippery, it depends how you tell it.
*
A corpulent idea sweats out of the skin
Permeates the fabric round your life
The consequence a fear that lets our devils in,
Curvy fates the fable crowned with strife.
*
Gaseous and groovy the prequel to changes
Or fabulously moody, the sequel to strangers.
*
Yet fundamentally one is only one where one is at
A sore and clingy idea that snags a breath.
Yes, find a mensa tree, thumbers, holy thumb, fair thumbostat.
A bore and insincere with bags of breadth.
*
Location is an issue for estate agents.
Look: a "shun" is a tissue-forest-hate cadence.

 

How Do Ye Know?

A soft entrance, pitter splatter, how do ye know?
How do you know what?
How do ye know the wrought iron wonder of deferred pleasure?
I don't know, how?
By stretching the meta-carpal with an elastic suspender
Tied between the sun and the moon.
That’s how.

 

Lullaby

Even though the world may end
In a quieter groan, a man weary
Slightly bleary kind of sigh.
The technocrats have set the tone
Of our fin-de-siecle lullaby.
Raised the pitch
Serrated the edges
Burned the witches
Berated the hedgers.
Set themselves a quixotic task:
The disposing of bodies and making babies ...
... everything points to the bomb.

But even the Generalissimo knows
The world won't end that way.

A failsafe protection,
The false ape's prediction.

 

 

Katydid

Katydid had ears in her legs.
Katydid had no fear.
Katydid had translucency and fluency
In springing into instant action,
Entirely without thought.

What katydid did had had no cue,
Katydid did what katydids do.

 

Fol de Rol de Mouldy soul


I eat each day from beggars bowl,
Staunch of heart (and leg of lamb)
No-body knows the body I am.
*
Deep in Kerrys soggy green
Miasmatic pipers scene
Peptic fun whilst on the run
Keeping lungs and liver clean.
I cry tonight for all things gone
But 'nevermore' quoth he.
*
Fol de Rol de mouldy soul
It's going well I'm on a roll
Firm in faith - agnostincase
But hard to find - realiplace
I cry tonight for whats to come
But 'nevermore' quoth he.

 

 

Four Bear Ants

Ok so it's the big chase,
Hardly Huxley's 'Royal Road'
More like hedonistic gravy,
Had a stint at raving.
Dissolution,
Is sin the question?
The day's eye shone
I remembered everything,
I forgot everyone.

 

Smoke Signals

Warbling swiftly through
The grapevines counting game,

The who's but not the wherefores,
The when but not the why.

Stark clarity in a recidivists rut
Not the silk but the cut.

 

 

P =e/n Pome

A four legged creature
Has something to teach ya,
Synchronicity plus velocity;
Ballooning pantalooned ferocity.
Mobile phone and trainers pound
The polyonymous pavement sound,
The crab and the slab.
*
Onward rebel, malicious
As ever and trained to remain
On the level, you're vicious
And cleverly aimed at the fray.
*
EYE on the ball lad! THEre’s no need to skulk at the SIDE
The answer is Turf if Munster is the question.
*
Instead of Internment the twice landed gentry were banned!
But not from their land, as some would have had it
No just from their haise - how nace for them.
*
If you have E over everything,
Probability wakes up
To the definite likelihood
Of remaining misunderstood.

 

Were All Disabled Now

Save some of that precious empathist for me,
I'm an amputee.
Guilt was the gangrenous appendage,
Innate amorality the blade.
My friend has Bells Palsy of the compliment,
Her pal has paralysis of the inner eye.
*
Equal minorities for opportunists!

 

You'll Never Find A Herd Of Me

You may turn me into a peedgeon
You dirty steenking mageecian
But I'm damned if I'll go quietly into the hole.

 

Rootless Present Wandering

Human!
Hyoo me?
Hyes human!
Thou art not a tree, you have no roots
Thou art no ocean, you have no dolphins.
Thou art not the wind, you support not our kites.
Thou art the rootless present wandering.
Thou art art and art loved.

 

Vicarious Wallower

Who could shield our eyes
From such penetrating fantasy?
That brooks no favors from the told,
(Only shadowing their wary way)
Or lingers where the rumors fold
Upon themselves (re-emerging in the distant past.)
Parasitic upon the self, in causal loops
Of widening scope and ever narrowing focus...
It starts as a game, how familiarity coaxed us!
Who could shield you
From such things?
*
To worm too deeply
Is to risk an exit
In hopes of finding
Oxygen at the centre.
*
Such things may be attempted once
I think.
A camp set up in the periphery,
A measured breath, and the
Point
Of no
Return,
Duly noted.

Remember Ants

It was just me and me mate.
Had an hour to kill.
We walked to the woods,
Me in me boots,
Reminiscing and shoving and laughing.
He kept reminding me of me mistakes
And I couldn’t remember his.
So I pushed him down the hill
And rolled down after him breathless.
He lay there still as still,
With his eyes wide
Glassy.
Nasty.
Suddenly he jumped up screaming
And grabbed me leg.
I fell down next to him.
Bastid! I said.

Scared me immensely.