july 2019
(i)
...the sun’s language is one vast, blazing silence
and every human utterance since has been a betrayal
every sonnet a wound
every birth a defiance
and every drop of rain an inaudible rage
demanding why, why this blue-scattered light
a lark shoots skywards emptying its tiny heart
singing for the sheer joy of rebellion
meteors crush my soul
and I am covered in a special death
the renaissance of all things
a man made of ash
whose words come from caves and mist
a man who has lived in the mouths of gods
places filled with sobriety, greed and dust
where the sun was pushed to the back of my throat
and left to quietly disguise its true intent
of transforming freedom
into some meaningless choreography
and kill all that stand before it...
(ii)
...as the searches grow and grow
so the ground succumbs
a screen is touched
an ocean sold
the world hallucinates
and the world invites
but the wifi foetus
knows just what to do next
embrace the chasm
override mortality
then code for aggression, vanity
for all that violates
but, on the other side
on the other, far side of paradise
there is this realm
this palace of one-dimensional souls
where the cyclops sits whistling a tune
occasionally spitting through the screens
brain tissue, buttons, the odd tooth
some magic words to pull a crowd
and as the multitudes grow and grow
so the ground succumbs
there is light and there is light
but only one darkness
only one chasm...
(iii)
...and here they come, smile by smile
the high, global priests
flaunting the sovereignty of their testes
breaths reeking
throats lined
with money
with god’s pearly ejaculate
moving from mouth to mouth
this manhood of bulls
this telling resuscitation of evil
and these oracles and scryers
with their flaming, green eyes
they are no different
they judge, they enact
they cipher their superhuman algorithms
to catch the truth
to stretch from mouth to mouth
this manhood of bulls
this manhood of throats
lined with rape
the repetitive pre-eminence
of outright evil
and yet, and yet the world spins on
from smile to smile
a child in acute distress
motherless and beyond reach...
(iv)
...they say being alive is a good thing
and yet this good snake, this ruse
has slipped millions of its distrustful eyes
deep into my mind
and looking out over the surrounding hills
I see only indifference and madness
busy conceiving
busy sliding needles into their arms
beneath my thumb I crush several ants
and immediately the executioners
begin to pound on my roof
the heart’s flesh, they shout, is driven
by a serendipitous agony
you are no longer an epicentre of anything
so crush the sliding hills
throw down your mind
and let indifference breed its snakes
millions now slither from the walls
and having the eyes of a serpent
they say is a good thing
you will be an immaculate survivor
always alive, always watchful
the deep conquest of someone else's mind...