More YouTube

I've been busy recording some more videos for my You Tube channel

Here's a performance of my poem 'cause and effect' - previously called 'Generation Now' on this blog.



It's quite an agressive poem - normally I prefer to be more tranquila. - 'tranquila' is my favourite word - its spanish for a sort of mixure between relaxed , tranquil, calm etc and can be used in so many ways - maybe laid back is a better translation.

We; The People

They; The Camera
under lights; with presence ask
The misbegotton question;
The loaded word; The unfair skew.
We; The People, have forgotton;
unsure we even knew; we see,
disguised, the adoration,
The blatent norm; The few.
Here plays the random playground ridicule;
Here drum the endless tit-less tacs;
Here, with unquestioned coolness,
They; The Camera
Act.

Desktop background 'The Fire'

Here's a desktop background I made for my poem 'The Fire' - feel free to download it and use it

-

There was a time when the colours belonged to the flowers.

Is it time?

Wisdom is a matter of Timing
and Timing is a matter of Wisdom
and when there's one
without the other -
this
is Bullshit.

The Garden

Shrevelled Stones
Play; concordant in
Errdanity. The garden
Prelic is arranged
As my mother
Used to. Arthur
Is precise. I take
Too long with my
Impatient crouve. A
Swaulied hour's pause-
It is time.
The Jabberwocky!
lurks.


:P

It was here I paused and sighed.

The small sucesses 'long the way
like coloured flags that furl and sway
as I recite the pitted road
that brought me where the cool air blowed
Down, from the peaks and valleys snowed.
I may never reach those heights,
but I stitched my flags into a kite;
red and blue and yellow.

The Villa

Note: I was inspired to write this love poem after being struck by the first couple lines of another poem on the internet. Those lines stuck in my mind and I was compelled to continue where the two lines led. So I stole the first two lines - but after - realising my crime - I laundered them to make them my own by changing them in ways that better suited my purpose. So here's to the unknown poet who inspired me and here's to all great artists that were thieves.

The Villa

In a Villa that we built on sand,
I traced our play upon your hand,
while in the yard, an orange tree,
held heavy fruit, that fantasy,
clung to its’ branches, fixed and fast
as Shadow grew across the grass.
This did I promise, This Grandest deed,
assured and soft, and you believed.
Oh how you laughed, and clasped my voice.
I loved you then,
and how.

But how Time twists its’ knife into our story,
and prised me from my promise.
And how I laboured long to gather,
at night, the blood and teardrops of my conquest,
While you slept,
I wept,
and yet-
in my memory you shine,
and in my mind, my foolish words stayed,
true and kind,
and still,
I hold you now, as then,
elipsed in time,
and wonder.

Upon reading a poem about a funeral

I was inspired to write this poem after coming across several poems about funerals in a relatively short space of time. I was struck by their shear mundaneness and almost ordered emotion that resonated with my constricted English upbringing and contrasted with the passion of life a death I had experienced whilst traveling in so-called poorer countries.

After writing the first draft, I revisited some of the funeral poems and realised that many were actually pretty good. But my inaccurate impression is caught here.

Upon reading a poem about a funeral.

I see the funeral described;
the petty detail that hides,
the Crushing Seas.-
He was your Father.

Upon acceptance, upon hate,
upon indifferance, upon fate,
the air that stops you falling,
and upon a loss to come.-
But what would you have felt
if you could fly.

And did you love him?
If so, how?
Or were you cut off with the tide
when you, with clever words, describe
view; narrowed in upon a pin
stuck in a jacket lapel.
Were you bewildered so,
you did significance bestow
on such a tiny, shiny thing that well
conscribed your introspection,
or was it just a crutch to catch your eyes
as you listened to the practiced lies
of a minister's deception.
Stretch Out your Vision,
Howl and Cry,
'till you Comprehend
the Bones
that were your Father.

Generation Now

What is the PLAN.
We is needin' some marks on the map,
marks on the track.
We is needin' a finishing line,
a sense of our time,
not wasted,
incapacitated,
by our condition
in the present.
No future
with no tutor
of our personal past.
your insults last.
in fears,
in our tears,
4 2 hundred years.
we is feelin' it now
Bcoz
It is happenin' now.
-
There is no Cause and Effect
When you're high.
-
No Past
Bcoz the Past is hapenin' now
No Future
Bcoz the Future is happenin' now
There can BE no revolution
no evolution
Bcoz we all is happenin' now.
No predictability,
No reliability,
Bcoz our Future is happenin' now.
No personal conception,
of our past in our possession.
How we got to our position,
ain't by followin' no mission,
or social imposition,
of your logical condition,
Bcoz our Past is happenin' now.
-
There is no Cause and Effect
when you're high
-
We is lookin' 4 a way to BE.
We is lookin' 4 the guarentee.
No promised dream,
No slot machine.
We is lookin' 4 the Ching! Ching!
Payout Day
Today
Bcoz the FUTURE is happenin' now
-
There is no Cause and Effect
when you're high

The Fire

(dedicated to Viktor)


There is magic in the Fire,
from the dawning to the falling,
from the snowline to the maize time,
there is magic in the Fire.

In the way the smoke twists round,
in the way the wax runs with the ground,
there is magic in the Fire,
and the earth is made aflame.

I saw something there,
not with my sight my eyes
but with my feet my heart
and the joins between each part.

I was drunk on smoke
and heat and vapour,
the blood of trees
and the fat of pigs
and the Days, the Day,
the Days.

The days of my ancestors;
When they first walked out from Africa
When they first befriended Dog,
and laughed as Bird,
and danced as Snake,
constructed knives,
and nets,
and planted seeds,
and warred,
and cried,
and tried to make things better,
then tried to makes things better.

There is magic in the Fire
and the Days, the Day,
the Days.

The Seed

I am K'at; the seed.
Not the sower.
Not the tree.
Not the flower.
But the seed.
And I am ON the tree of life.
And I FALL upon the ground.
And into this Earth I settle;
a delicate life,
waiting for the rain,
a plan unseen;
containing all I have come from
and all I will be.

I am one of many;
complete but small,
uncounted in a cloud of crowds
and falling seperate;
longing for the earth.
And when I find my place,
upon Earth's mercy I will split,
and be no more.
Stretching upwards and downwards,
in Faith of sky and soil
with all protection lost.

Remain fertile ground!
Promise me my promise will deliver
or I will scatter in the dust,
a grain amongst the specks,
in the corner of my vision.
I will fear to be
a barren case,
dead in the wind
and blown in the desert.

But even deserts can have rain.
and even winds have song.
The seeds of a tree are many,
and darkened moons and seasons empty.
And yes, our many hopes seem wasted
but if we wait
stretch out our webs of light
fasten to the wind,
the earth, the rain, the night,
we can catch Time;
Thruming on a strand.
Then will I let go
and leave, in pulsing lome of life,
my end,
and let the tree eclipse my weighted moment.

When once was grit
a forest will arise.
And when I am a cat
there I will hunt;
between the trees,
along the shoreline of the lake,
passing the stones along the path.

Sway...

Sway ...
Lay- zhur-lee,
Sway ...
I see the
Trees ...
and I am
Glad ...
a leaf drifts
Down ...
on a calm
Day ...
I loose the
Ground ...
amongst the
Leaves...

In ...

Awe ...
as I look
Up ...
its muscles
Flex ...
around green
Light ...
and I branch
Out ...
my arms a-
- Loft ...
beneath the
Shade ...
of shimmered
Shoals ...

Of ...

Leaves ...
in front of
Leaves ...
in front of
Sky ...
and all a-
-Massed ...
they flicker
By ...
as if to
Say ...
"We are a-
- Live ...
and we are
One ...

And ...

Sway ...
around the
Trunk ...
that reaches
Up ...
into the
Sky ...
on a clear
day ...
I loose the
Ground ...
I see the
Trees ...

And ...

Sway -

Fly

just very , Tick , tick,
Tick , tick ,
Tick , tick ,
Tick.
just very , Tick , tick,
Tick , tick ,
Tick , tick ,
Tick.
and in the , Space ,
-.- , -.- ,
between each, Tick ,
-.- , -.- ,
this is the , Trick ,
to live your, Life ,
inside the , Spaces,
of each , Tick ,
and so the , Stillness,
of the , Mind ,
is re-vealed ,
in the , Time ,
between the , Seconds,
of the , Clock ,
and the , Ticks ,
that matter , Not ,
and you just
Fly-

The parable of chance and fate

I saw a boxing match
'tween Fate and Chance.
The betting was on Fate
and chance stood "not a chance".
But when the bell did ring
Fate charged and swung where Chance had stood
but Chance danced round with bluring jabs.
From all directions, all at once,
those glancing blows felled Fate.
And Fate lay cold against the canvas.

And whereupon, the crowd did rise, as one,
and surging forward, lifted Fate, unconcious,high,
and cheered Fate as the winner.
And all the betters backing Fate
in thrilling tones and sharp debate
made earnestly to speculate
about the next match up
'tween Fate and Skill
or Fate and Worth
dependent on their taxes

In Irony

In short,
In brevity,
that one word
one phrase
that takes all strands
and complex issues
and wraps them in an instant.
Those crystal words
that now are picked up, traded.
"The media have lost the plot"

A love poem

Ahhh mmm ohhh,
fast and slow
Upon your body lies my gaze,
until your eyes and nose and chin
...and eyes,
and choosing both your pupils bright
I canot look them all.
Poor senses, smell and touch and sight
please kiss my voice and steal my plight
and let us meet and breath together
first contact,
souls
that are forever.

on loneliness

I am so lonely,lonely,lonely so,
with but this page to answer me
and now I wish I could
drain out my blood into this ink
all my pain into these words
purge, cry, purge and finish!
I am not!
Broke up.
Bewildered.
I know not what I feel.
Searching for something more,
some point resistance in the brain,
some cornered object that I could turn,
over and over,
to make,
to mold.
Yet I find nothing!

Another Day

Another day,
another hour,
and I am in the same position,
and the world accumalates its dust,
and the world accumalates its rust.

Another day,
another hour,
and I am in the same position.
I am sure I made a move;
a mighty effort!
Sure as a hammer's arc;
Sure as the mighty clang,
I did bang,
and my arm grew weary;
and my hope grew faint.
and here I am,
almost in the same position.

Another day,
another hour,
regret piled on regret,
no point to fret.
That terrible feeling of time being wasted.
I feel very close to death
and yet my body does not know it yet.

untitled

Where are my little pills?
my little foiled pop-'em-outs.
Dire things will happen if I miss you.
And I have lost you.