So there you have it. An archive of all the stuff I chose to call poems that I have written since the early 80s. Well clearly not everything as even a ghost, a punk like me with his head full of planet, has some material deemed not good enough to make the cut. As for all the others, you can read them as below. For the record, I love them all in their own particular ways and puttin' them on here has been a real blast, like meeting old friends. The work has been mainly done at night with the candles burnin', and the fantastic music of The Orb pulsin' away in the background on heavy Bose rotation.
The process of diggin' out this stuff from the realm of the who knows where has been done thru' late Dec 10 / early Jan 11; and now it lies nailed to this blog, Ghost Eternal 2. There will be updates in the future if I happen to find myself in the right space at the right time to pull down another bunch of gorilla nuts from the collapsed inversion trees which belong to the forests of infinity, but until then the book is closed and the following collections as found here stand complete -
Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
Poems from the 90s
Poems from India 2002
London Works
Excavations Around the Sun
Nullabor Song
Time now to move on.
Wednesday, 5 January 2011
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
Spirit Tracks
meditated contemplated
thoroughly excavated
trampin’ on the plains
under the shade of a sun hat
looking for the remains
of those who reigned
but they were traceless cats,
masters of the understated,
invisible initial kings
they didn’t deign to frame
any uninitiated gains
no excavated contemplated
meditated spirit tracks
- from Excavations Around the Sun
thoroughly excavated
trampin’ on the plains
under the shade of a sun hat
looking for the remains
of those who reigned
but they were traceless cats,
masters of the understated,
invisible initial kings
they didn’t deign to frame
any uninitiated gains
no excavated contemplated
meditated spirit tracks
- from Excavations Around the Sun
Yak
old yak of the mountains
sits with crippled antlers
whilst he sings
from the last staggered trade post
to clouds of bluffing willow,
just Everest’s lonely pillows
in a vast and empty parish
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
sits with crippled antlers
whilst he sings
from the last staggered trade post
to clouds of bluffing willow,
just Everest’s lonely pillows
in a vast and empty parish
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Push the Button
eyes closed
cheeks drawn in
with attentive
breath meditate
avoid bending
concentration
teachers say
so diligence
is needed for
here there is no
entertainment
other than the
penetrated
circulation
of recent
experience
identified
and decorated
now with new
attention
gone nuclear
- from London Works
cheeks drawn in
with attentive
breath meditate
avoid bending
concentration
teachers say
so diligence
is needed for
here there is no
entertainment
other than the
penetrated
circulation
of recent
experience
identified
and decorated
now with new
attention
gone nuclear
- from London Works
Teatime Buddhas
monks eat bread
as a teatime snack,
hot from the kitchen
with swabs of butter,
Tibetan style
they wash it back
in a salty brew
that makes ‘em buddhas
- from Excavations Around the Sun
as a teatime snack,
hot from the kitchen
with swabs of butter,
Tibetan style
they wash it back
in a salty brew
that makes ‘em buddhas
- from Excavations Around the Sun
Hell's Angels
harbour no happy hopes crap
with your precious existence
just do what has to be done
for the ownerless love of all
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
with your precious existence
just do what has to be done
for the ownerless love of all
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Monk
down to earth
humble in speech
many prayers
and vows to keep
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
humble in speech
many prayers
and vows to keep
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Cryin' Butterflies
butterflies
scrape against
a blue sky
their enigmatic
high collides
so difficult
to fathom
sittin’ back
in a non-attack
monastic settin’
all the gabber
in Tibetan
passes me by
so this is the
life ridden
hidin’ from cryin’
wilfully thrilled
to deny the lies
still inside
my reflections
- from Excavations Around the Sun
scrape against
a blue sky
their enigmatic
high collides
so difficult
to fathom
sittin’ back
in a non-attack
monastic settin’
all the gabber
in Tibetan
passes me by
so this is the
life ridden
hidin’ from cryin’
wilfully thrilled
to deny the lies
still inside
my reflections
- from Excavations Around the Sun
On the Block
sitting there with pen in hand
you never make a stand
for a great spread of words,
instead you’re always stabbing
at the thoughts inside your head
unable to ride the river of constant flow,
it’s a common problem I know
for people full of dreams,
but for once I really wish you
could cut the guff
and pull down from the tree
a decent bunch of gorilla nuts
- from Poems from India 2002
you never make a stand
for a great spread of words,
instead you’re always stabbing
at the thoughts inside your head
unable to ride the river of constant flow,
it’s a common problem I know
for people full of dreams,
but for once I really wish you
could cut the guff
and pull down from the tree
a decent bunch of gorilla nuts
- from Poems from India 2002
Punch the Meditator's Creator Hunches
do my mantras everyday
i really dunno
what good they do
maybe save me from
many sticky situations
confrontations
useless perambulations
around invisible suns
of misinterpretation
it is difficult to say
so there is the buddha
sittin’ in meditation
across the cool, cool river
and here is me
with incense burnin’
in the tray at my feet
flowers of observance
held in my hands
just waitin’ for the nod
the fear that all this
is not just some crazy
blown up mental
conflaguration
destined to end
in devastation
rebounds in my mind
an’ punches me back
a billion years to
the day of creation
- from London Works
i really dunno
what good they do
maybe save me from
many sticky situations
confrontations
useless perambulations
around invisible suns
of misinterpretation
it is difficult to say
so there is the buddha
sittin’ in meditation
across the cool, cool river
and here is me
with incense burnin’
in the tray at my feet
flowers of observance
held in my hands
just waitin’ for the nod
the fear that all this
is not just some crazy
blown up mental
conflaguration
destined to end
in devastation
rebounds in my mind
an’ punches me back
a billion years to
the day of creation
- from London Works
Cut Up
pocket pasteboard
inner secret little slip
finger and thumb particulars
quite by the case
quite innocent
quite we haven’t the faintest
faint or premonition
squarely
huskily
the very word
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
inner secret little slip
finger and thumb particulars
quite by the case
quite innocent
quite we haven’t the faintest
faint or premonition
squarely
huskily
the very word
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
Ghost Eternal
i rise
i try
i tire
i cry -
i close my eyes.
it is all over
before it has begun.
holding a handful of nothing
i can smell the incense burning,
prayers for my soul are said
by someone in the distance,
and i am grateful
but I have no soul so
the ghost eternal is open,
a cloud of substance
on the two-worlds border
is washed in darkness,
it is time to move on...
- from London Works
i try
i tire
i cry -
i close my eyes.
it is all over
before it has begun.
holding a handful of nothing
i can smell the incense burning,
prayers for my soul are said
by someone in the distance,
and i am grateful
but I have no soul so
the ghost eternal is open,
a cloud of substance
on the two-worlds border
is washed in darkness,
it is time to move on...
- from London Works
Barbarous
secret state killing
scratched on a pane of
commemorated prison,
sufficiently bleak
to be bound with heavy
brooding
from the sort of death
that stained
Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
scratched on a pane of
commemorated prison,
sufficiently bleak
to be bound with heavy
brooding
from the sort of death
that stained
Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
Nullabor Song (Excerpt 1)
land of the empty bowls
on a curve side track
unknown hills of the once holy
days of the graze
how did this land ever get to be?
ancient perplexity
perplexity of the ancients
in the settin’ sun
sandy soil
multi-coloured earth foil
bush scrub blue
in a church less land
no religion
no junk
settlements
habitations
not much in the way
of complication
slate wiped clean
different journeyin’
expectin’ to arrive in cities
but the cities aren’t there
land too old land too young
in a cross conglomeration
of strangeness
for us to ever be
more than
window watchin’
for people humans
but there are no people
to see –
skeleton invisibility
slowly gettin’ used
to this way of writin’
dreamtracks
that follow no pattern
no obvious pathways
as the words just come to be
do they make sense?
read easy?
jus’ dunno
will have to see...
words held up to my face
just disintegrate
highways on their way
to somewhere
but the somewhere is just a speck
just a spec headin’ east
on a curve beat swing way
where we just wanna see
the usual vocabulary faded
pipeline roadways –
either the end of the world
or the birth of
a superior humanity
what is it gonna be?
- from Nullabor Song
on a curve side track
unknown hills of the once holy
days of the graze
how did this land ever get to be?
ancient perplexity
perplexity of the ancients
in the settin’ sun
sandy soil
multi-coloured earth foil
bush scrub blue
in a church less land
no religion
no junk
settlements
habitations
not much in the way
of complication
slate wiped clean
different journeyin’
expectin’ to arrive in cities
but the cities aren’t there
land too old land too young
in a cross conglomeration
of strangeness
for us to ever be
more than
window watchin’
for people humans
but there are no people
to see –
skeleton invisibility
slowly gettin’ used
to this way of writin’
dreamtracks
that follow no pattern
no obvious pathways
as the words just come to be
do they make sense?
read easy?
jus’ dunno
will have to see...
words held up to my face
just disintegrate
highways on their way
to somewhere
but the somewhere is just a speck
just a spec headin’ east
on a curve beat swing way
where we just wanna see
the usual vocabulary faded
pipeline roadways –
either the end of the world
or the birth of
a superior humanity
what is it gonna be?
- from Nullabor Song
Swollen
her floating tunics
of pregnancy
heartily communicated
with titular adieu
lawful onto the bed
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
of pregnancy
heartily communicated
with titular adieu
lawful onto the bed
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
Wishful Thinking
give me the power
of invisible light
and let there be no more
grey stalk withering,
plant in my hand
the tree of perfection
to be always nourished
by my honesty
and meditations
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
of invisible light
and let there be no more
grey stalk withering,
plant in my hand
the tree of perfection
to be always nourished
by my honesty
and meditations
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Pulsin'
pulsin’ like a prince
in our galactic ¼,
if we could see
it’s true size,
arise in line
an’ comprehend
the majestic
ascension
of pulse without =
we would shut up
an’ melt within
a second,
hiccupity
hiccity hup!
- from Excavations Around the Sun
in our galactic ¼,
if we could see
it’s true size,
arise in line
an’ comprehend
the majestic
ascension
of pulse without =
we would shut up
an’ melt within
a second,
hiccupity
hiccity hup!
- from Excavations Around the Sun
Flash in the Sky
sack racketed shoulder
wrapped out of pattern,
frantic slamming anti-flash
blasted open ransacked
animal shoulder clatter
- Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
wrapped out of pattern,
frantic slamming anti-flash
blasted open ransacked
animal shoulder clatter
- Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
Stunt Dreamer
maybe I fantasize too much
about sittin' on the shore
of a distant planet
watchin' an incredible sun
sittin' like a great ball in the sky
inspiration for millions
kaleidescopic points of light
blazin' in my consciousness
takin' me to the green fields
in the years of my early life
when hope was always round
the next bend on the road
where the mystery of bein'
intoxicated with existence
meant the world never end
jus' go on for ever an' ever
and no stunts were necessary
to justify my continuation
now back to my place and
stunts aplenty litter the floor
exhaust me frankly they do
more stunts to come for sure
with more exhaustion too
before this confusion is complete
- from London Works
about sittin' on the shore
of a distant planet
watchin' an incredible sun
sittin' like a great ball in the sky
inspiration for millions
kaleidescopic points of light
blazin' in my consciousness
takin' me to the green fields
in the years of my early life
when hope was always round
the next bend on the road
where the mystery of bein'
intoxicated with existence
meant the world never end
jus' go on for ever an' ever
and no stunts were necessary
to justify my continuation
now back to my place and
stunts aplenty litter the floor
exhaust me frankly they do
more stunts to come for sure
with more exhaustion too
before this confusion is complete
- from London Works
Lost Love
when i heard that she was going
i thought that i would die,
in stranded hopelessness
i ran to my room and cried,
the reality struck hard
she wasn’t the one for me,
all my bad dreams had come true
that was plain enough to see
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
i thought that i would die,
in stranded hopelessness
i ran to my room and cried,
the reality struck hard
she wasn’t the one for me,
all my bad dreams had come true
that was plain enough to see
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Life
shades of emotion
waves on the ocean
deeper you dive
stillness resides,
dust bandanas
fresh bananas,
prepare yourself for
a helluva ride
- from Excavations Around the Sun
waves on the ocean
deeper you dive
stillness resides,
dust bandanas
fresh bananas,
prepare yourself for
a helluva ride
- from Excavations Around the Sun
Broken Timber
broken timber weak and fickle
as a half remembered childhood fable
where the queen ate the dragon
and became a thousand mice
- Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
as a half remembered childhood fable
where the queen ate the dragon
and became a thousand mice
- Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Stoned
spoken in sport
hysterical jests
from stoned lands
shaken to the core,
and on the wind
plays the scent of
weeping roses
weakening me
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
hysterical jests
from stoned lands
shaken to the core,
and on the wind
plays the scent of
weeping roses
weakening me
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Trade Leaf
simple trade leaf
branch sat, before it falls
to lie on the ground
without any tree grief,
part of nature’s contract
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
branch sat, before it falls
to lie on the ground
without any tree grief,
part of nature’s contract
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Childhood Inventories
a red satin petticoat furred with
a striking clock box
velvet pins and box of sweetmeats
boxes of sweets
and a little blue box of
storm blew scatter crossed,
seasick and shaken
wind-blown flotilla veterans
up the dark sedge of reeds
inventories hidden
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
a striking clock box
velvet pins and box of sweetmeats
boxes of sweets
and a little blue box of
storm blew scatter crossed,
seasick and shaken
wind-blown flotilla veterans
up the dark sedge of reeds
inventories hidden
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
Bodhgaya
a town in the middle of nowhere
alive because a long time ago
something happened there to give us hope,
a man sat under a tree
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
alive because a long time ago
something happened there to give us hope,
a man sat under a tree
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Dust Cloud Gazin'
dust cloud gazin’
try to find meaning
in the shapes of yer life
ending up with just the
breeze for company
- from Excavations Around the Sun
try to find meaning
in the shapes of yer life
ending up with just the
breeze for company
- from Excavations Around the Sun
Who the Teacher Is
he who teaches
is he who is greatest
whether it be a coconut boy
or an urban female
tested in the trenches of the big city,
and if it is she
then of course we speak of
she who teaches
and respect the sage
with flags of disobedience
lowered to the ground
wiping the sweat from our brows
we know we need it -
the wisdom of the wise,
fresh fields of flowers
are where their words can take us,
not to mention lands of crystal snow
where the mountains are vast
and revolve in circles
like hidden planets in retrograde
- from Poems from India 2002
is he who is greatest
whether it be a coconut boy
or an urban female
tested in the trenches of the big city,
and if it is she
then of course we speak of
she who teaches
and respect the sage
with flags of disobedience
lowered to the ground
wiping the sweat from our brows
we know we need it -
the wisdom of the wise,
fresh fields of flowers
are where their words can take us,
not to mention lands of crystal snow
where the mountains are vast
and revolve in circles
like hidden planets in retrograde
- from Poems from India 2002
Monday, 3 January 2011
London Spirits
walkin' along the road
with my merry head full
so easy to see a sight
that takes my breath away,
who thought of doing that
and where did they get the
skills to accomplish it from?
ever circling mysteries
of speculation burrow into
the ground till hittin’
foundations of structures that
lived, breathed an' reached
to the sky so many years ago
it is difficult to appreciate
to fully understand the dawns
those people must have seen when
it was a fine day and the flags
were flyin' sweetly in the air
is now simply impossible,
their expectations that for some
transformed into expeditions
contemplations of navigation
the mighty risks of sailing out
upon great seas and not returnin’
were born into brave crews
from this city place and time,
half tasting their elevation
in the shadows I now walk
- from London Works
with my merry head full
so easy to see a sight
that takes my breath away,
who thought of doing that
and where did they get the
skills to accomplish it from?
ever circling mysteries
of speculation burrow into
the ground till hittin’
foundations of structures that
lived, breathed an' reached
to the sky so many years ago
it is difficult to appreciate
to fully understand the dawns
those people must have seen when
it was a fine day and the flags
were flyin' sweetly in the air
is now simply impossible,
their expectations that for some
transformed into expeditions
contemplations of navigation
the mighty risks of sailing out
upon great seas and not returnin’
were born into brave crews
from this city place and time,
half tasting their elevation
in the shadows I now walk
- from London Works
Roamin'
those configured
centurion eyes
blasted into skull
an’ bone
sent by Rome
rank unbeatable
eagle throned
shields an’ spears
for 500 years
astonished the world
made it home
- from Excavations Around the Sun
centurion eyes
blasted into skull
an’ bone
sent by Rome
rank unbeatable
eagle throned
shields an’ spears
for 500 years
astonished the world
made it home
- from Excavations Around the Sun
Atmosphere of Plot
a sword conference
man to man
innuendoes of violence
treachery and revenge,
true consummation
of black intentions
pistol plotter
crack language
soaping the technical
horror
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
man to man
innuendoes of violence
treachery and revenge,
true consummation
of black intentions
pistol plotter
crack language
soaping the technical
horror
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
Life Trails
bendin' down to pick up
a piece o' thought
mornin' sun blazin'
over my left shoulder
sun light, star light
twinkles bright
food for my lungs
an' inner longings...
we all go, you know
we all go,
men women standing as one
tryin' to make sense
of the tracks we make
on this unknowable planet,
rockin' in the depths of space
miles away from anyone
we drink on down our
mortality
whether we like it or not
whether we embrace
those fate wheels,
awaken to the karmic
puffa puffa,
or struggle like nine pins
waitin' for the last shot
in the end none of it matters
no, really not, when the body lies
straight as a plate
and your eyes are open
in paramount wonder of
the extinguishment
- from London Works
a piece o' thought
mornin' sun blazin'
over my left shoulder
sun light, star light
twinkles bright
food for my lungs
an' inner longings...
we all go, you know
we all go,
men women standing as one
tryin' to make sense
of the tracks we make
on this unknowable planet,
rockin' in the depths of space
miles away from anyone
we drink on down our
mortality
whether we like it or not
whether we embrace
those fate wheels,
awaken to the karmic
puffa puffa,
or struggle like nine pins
waitin' for the last shot
in the end none of it matters
no, really not, when the body lies
straight as a plate
and your eyes are open
in paramount wonder of
the extinguishment
- from London Works
Karnataka Rocks
many incredible people
many wonders still to be seen
stump my toe it that isn’t true
on northern Karnataka rocks,
the dreadlock woman enchants
to go up river and sleep out open
on the necks of ancient temples
stump my toe if that isn’t true
on northern Karnataka rocks,
and we the sons of opium say
“OK, one last time before the desert
and the camel ride of our dreams,
chasing the dragon with love”
stump my toe if that isn’t true
on northern Karnataka rocks
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
many wonders still to be seen
stump my toe it that isn’t true
on northern Karnataka rocks,
the dreadlock woman enchants
to go up river and sleep out open
on the necks of ancient temples
stump my toe if that isn’t true
on northern Karnataka rocks,
and we the sons of opium say
“OK, one last time before the desert
and the camel ride of our dreams,
chasing the dragon with love”
stump my toe if that isn’t true
on northern Karnataka rocks
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Squat Jacks
we are spirits we dance
contort our shapes
like trees
in the wind blowin'
only with much less
by way of beauty
or dignity
than those trees,
we are spirits
we dance out of tune
and dance possessed
excommunicated
to lands configured
by the psychic blind
in bursting vistas,
of the dangers
stacking up
for future days of
treasure gone bust
we know little
more than squat jacks
- from London Works
contort our shapes
like trees
in the wind blowin'
only with much less
by way of beauty
or dignity
than those trees,
we are spirits
we dance out of tune
and dance possessed
excommunicated
to lands configured
by the psychic blind
in bursting vistas,
of the dangers
stacking up
for future days of
treasure gone bust
we know little
more than squat jacks
- from London Works
Mighty Ball
crouchin’ on
the dust tracks
takin’ shade from
the mighty ball
cosmological
metallurgical
aftershocks
too vast to
understand
within the single
span of man
bake the rocks
tattoo snake backs
crack geology
easy as eggs
squintin' my eye
too bright to see
from tiny spaceboy
to fragile man
- from Excavations Around the Sun
the dust tracks
takin’ shade from
the mighty ball
cosmological
metallurgical
aftershocks
too vast to
understand
within the single
span of man
bake the rocks
tattoo snake backs
crack geology
easy as eggs
squintin' my eye
too bright to see
from tiny spaceboy
to fragile man
- from Excavations Around the Sun
Soul of the East
winds from the river
blown in from another century
of fortune and elephants
with old prosperity buildings,
waiting like Victoria
for the death of Calcutta
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
blown in from another century
of fortune and elephants
with old prosperity buildings,
waiting like Victoria
for the death of Calcutta
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Basics
stripped down
run about
went to places
never thought
possible
under my
own steam
funk spitin’
outta me
left my lyin’
on the plains
levelled
spaced out
eye poppin’
eventually
incredible
after the pain
the struggle
the cryin’
- from London Works
run about
went to places
never thought
possible
under my
own steam
funk spitin’
outta me
left my lyin’
on the plains
levelled
spaced out
eye poppin’
eventually
incredible
after the pain
the struggle
the cryin’
- from London Works
Electrical Charisma Moves
never was one to open my mouth too often,
never had the patience to walk into a room
and pull off those electrical charisma moves
like some people are able to do as if they were
popes just waiting to be elected
guess i preferred the sunshine roads of solitude
to the smoke and fire of company
charged with vocal abundance and the rough edged
crackle of spiritual invisibility,
s’pose i took the lonely path,
the black hole of the status quo
the no get up and go
in the never to be seen again
- from Poems from the 90s
never had the patience to walk into a room
and pull off those electrical charisma moves
like some people are able to do as if they were
popes just waiting to be elected
guess i preferred the sunshine roads of solitude
to the smoke and fire of company
charged with vocal abundance and the rough edged
crackle of spiritual invisibility,
s’pose i took the lonely path,
the black hole of the status quo
the no get up and go
in the never to be seen again
- from Poems from the 90s
Colour of Mourning
the stain of bastardy
incapable of inheriting
murder and war imagined
of how physically to
attack the arms of England,
emblazoned in purple
the death of the king
actually dreamt of,
extremely predicted
by the church of extreme gloom
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
incapable of inheriting
murder and war imagined
of how physically to
attack the arms of England,
emblazoned in purple
the death of the king
actually dreamt of,
extremely predicted
by the church of extreme gloom
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
Doom Balloon
wrong place wrong time
suddenly feels like
circumstances of life
can overtake you
the island of safety
you stand upon
gets ever smaller
until there is no room
to move freely
everything suffocates
and behind it all
lies anger and despair
over what has become
maybe time to take
the doom balloon
pop it up high
upper atmosphere
where the air is thin
and random chats
with the unbelievable
entirely possible
give the nod to this
then we torch the sail
an’ fall to earth
in 1000 mile an hour
splat explosion
- from London Works
suddenly feels like
circumstances of life
can overtake you
the island of safety
you stand upon
gets ever smaller
until there is no room
to move freely
everything suffocates
and behind it all
lies anger and despair
over what has become
maybe time to take
the doom balloon
pop it up high
upper atmosphere
where the air is thin
and random chats
with the unbelievable
entirely possible
give the nod to this
then we torch the sail
an’ fall to earth
in 1000 mile an hour
splat explosion
- from London Works
On the Roof
on the roof
old Tibetans
spinnin’ prayers
from wooden beads
in boundless
application,
as the blue sky
fades to darken
into dusk
stars arise,
twinkle beamers
trillions
no, make that
squillions
of earth miles
away from us,
galactic pals
if you can
conceive it
of our own solar
immensity
what lies between?
hidden planets maybe,
infinitesimal
obscurity
way beyond Apollo
is theirs,
habitations
we will never see
from Zonk
to Ulbarine;
makes you wonder,
makes you squat,
makes you wanna
find the plot
- from Excavations Around the Sun
old Tibetans
spinnin’ prayers
from wooden beads
in boundless
application,
as the blue sky
fades to darken
into dusk
stars arise,
twinkle beamers
trillions
no, make that
squillions
of earth miles
away from us,
galactic pals
if you can
conceive it
of our own solar
immensity
what lies between?
hidden planets maybe,
infinitesimal
obscurity
way beyond Apollo
is theirs,
habitations
we will never see
from Zonk
to Ulbarine;
makes you wonder,
makes you squat,
makes you wanna
find the plot
- from Excavations Around the Sun
Peculiar
summer-house mountains
scientifically knotted
humbly waiting the pang pang
hard and beady black,
black as stormy grapes
in a sea of propaganda
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
scientifically knotted
humbly waiting the pang pang
hard and beady black,
black as stormy grapes
in a sea of propaganda
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
Spiritual Fred Austin
he wanted to be a spiritual man
but oh dear oh dear
he didn’t know how to meditate
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
but oh dear oh dear
he didn’t know how to meditate
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Nullabor Song (Excerpt 2)
tree shapes unfamiliar
a cross reference into a
big fat nuthin’
forkin’ outwards
to a split horizon
circuits in symphony
multiplied into nuthin’
birds flyin’ free
to the rumble of appearances
i never expected to see
tree dotted plains
earth red
song circuits
song circuits on
twisted river tracks
dry as the sky is blue
dream deeper
go further still
into this earth
of no reference
to say it is beautiful
is not to even begin to describe it
never gonna be able to catch it
earth it
escape it
so i will just roll along
submerged in the scenery
outer tree stations
on cut shape horizons
signals of the haze trick
deity incredible
from an order of imagination
in all that is perfect
light – like a bird flyin’
from off a pole
beyond the pale
swingin’ along
above the grassland scrub
rust farm homes
of the few and hardy
come back to it
again and again
there is no disturbance
all past experiences
have the feelin’ of centuries
freed into outer space
implanted upon them
familiar country
but the landscape here
is not like that
there is the ancient
now fused with the new
ancient land
where nuthin’ has changed
for millions of years
now suddenly
in the space of just a couple
of centuries
undergone huge transformations
contradiction?
not really, story of humanity
man to man
dog eat dog if you like
but the basic quest for survival
food in the belly
is fused in the belly
fused together in the light of day
spear to gun
gun to pop and the land won
cities will later rise
outta the dust here
of that you can be sure
future cities
come back in 1000 yrs
count the populations
dust risen
swingin’ along
ever changin’
always perfect
open immensity
sheep an’ trees
red soil
sandy dry rivers
and salt pools
all under sweeps of blue
unbroken
sun rusted fences
demarcations of property
in a continuous land
of seeming nuthin’
overwhelmingly empty
anyway seems so to me
an opportunity
to paint the standin’ stations
and go trail river ridin’
in the land before god
any gods
thank god
- from Nullabor Song
a cross reference into a
big fat nuthin’
forkin’ outwards
to a split horizon
circuits in symphony
multiplied into nuthin’
birds flyin’ free
to the rumble of appearances
i never expected to see
tree dotted plains
earth red
song circuits
song circuits on
twisted river tracks
dry as the sky is blue
dream deeper
go further still
into this earth
of no reference
to say it is beautiful
is not to even begin to describe it
never gonna be able to catch it
earth it
escape it
so i will just roll along
submerged in the scenery
outer tree stations
on cut shape horizons
signals of the haze trick
deity incredible
from an order of imagination
in all that is perfect
light – like a bird flyin’
from off a pole
beyond the pale
swingin’ along
above the grassland scrub
rust farm homes
of the few and hardy
come back to it
again and again
there is no disturbance
all past experiences
have the feelin’ of centuries
freed into outer space
implanted upon them
familiar country
but the landscape here
is not like that
there is the ancient
now fused with the new
ancient land
where nuthin’ has changed
for millions of years
now suddenly
in the space of just a couple
of centuries
undergone huge transformations
contradiction?
not really, story of humanity
man to man
dog eat dog if you like
but the basic quest for survival
food in the belly
is fused in the belly
fused together in the light of day
spear to gun
gun to pop and the land won
cities will later rise
outta the dust here
of that you can be sure
future cities
come back in 1000 yrs
count the populations
dust risen
swingin’ along
ever changin’
always perfect
open immensity
sheep an’ trees
red soil
sandy dry rivers
and salt pools
all under sweeps of blue
unbroken
sun rusted fences
demarcations of property
in a continuous land
of seeming nuthin’
overwhelmingly empty
anyway seems so to me
an opportunity
to paint the standin’ stations
and go trail river ridin’
in the land before god
any gods
thank god
- from Nullabor Song
Moon Power of London
moon shines blue light
over shadowed buildings
turn the corner see the river
palms clasped together
in awe of silent majesty,
the sacred indistinguishable,
all wrapped in supersonic light
time rolls on, we all roll on,
that unfathomable incredible
turnin' on this tender spot
of earth crust that is London
all praise to the ghosts eternal
who years ago made this city
dealers in the pretty no
more like the power magical
a specific underarm throb
of mystical pulse drum
beaten on the luminous
experience of mother plasma
in sunlight conversation
with father galaxy gods on the
weight of her spun hurtles
- from London Works
over shadowed buildings
turn the corner see the river
palms clasped together
in awe of silent majesty,
the sacred indistinguishable,
all wrapped in supersonic light
time rolls on, we all roll on,
that unfathomable incredible
turnin' on this tender spot
of earth crust that is London
all praise to the ghosts eternal
who years ago made this city
dealers in the pretty no
more like the power magical
a specific underarm throb
of mystical pulse drum
beaten on the luminous
experience of mother plasma
in sunlight conversation
with father galaxy gods on the
weight of her spun hurtles
- from London Works
Exit from the Echo Chamber
grinnin' like a Cheshire cat
I dream of dogs an' ponies,
walkin' around thinking
I'm enlightened
when I'm only talkin' to ghosts
is the stuff of heartbreak
bells ringin' in the distance
like a roll call of the dead
leave me dry mouthed
and in need of tea,
think I'll sleep early tonight
with the window open
- from London Works
I dream of dogs an' ponies,
walkin' around thinking
I'm enlightened
when I'm only talkin' to ghosts
is the stuff of heartbreak
bells ringin' in the distance
like a roll call of the dead
leave me dry mouthed
and in need of tea,
think I'll sleep early tonight
with the window open
- from London Works
Bright Centre
the bright centre
behind my left shoulder,
to hazard a guess
it’s over a thousand
trillion miles from here,
but that doesn’t matter
I can feel the light,
I can see the smoky rising
of sights too unbelievable
to belong to a single planet
this is the big stuff –
the bright centre
- from Poems from India 2002
behind my left shoulder,
to hazard a guess
it’s over a thousand
trillion miles from here,
but that doesn’t matter
I can feel the light,
I can see the smoky rising
of sights too unbelievable
to belong to a single planet
this is the big stuff –
the bright centre
- from Poems from India 2002
Sunday, 2 January 2011
Astral Strike
it was sickening -
a black face smashed
astral wagon of warning,
striking deep the fleshy ground
of beating bloody heart rib,
and outrageously singing
my next world entry song
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
a black face smashed
astral wagon of warning,
striking deep the fleshy ground
of beating bloody heart rib,
and outrageously singing
my next world entry song
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Tibetan Restaurant
the restaurant served momos and thukpa
Tibetan meat dishes from the land of snows,
but the Tibetans had left there long ago
all thanks to the Chinese who took their land,
so there they were down in south India
living their lives and making a living.
a group of Tamils came in and sat down
big strong men, dark as the greatest,
they travelled all over the land
to wherever work took them,
and they were much in demand
nominally Hindu they had the smiles of free men
in command of their own nature,
so it was no big deal for them to order dinner
and eat their god with plenty of chillies,
washing it down with hot sweet tea
- from Poems from India 2002
Tibetan meat dishes from the land of snows,
but the Tibetans had left there long ago
all thanks to the Chinese who took their land,
so there they were down in south India
living their lives and making a living.
a group of Tamils came in and sat down
big strong men, dark as the greatest,
they travelled all over the land
to wherever work took them,
and they were much in demand
nominally Hindu they had the smiles of free men
in command of their own nature,
so it was no big deal for them to order dinner
and eat their god with plenty of chillies,
washing it down with hot sweet tea
- from Poems from India 2002
Foot of the Mountain
head for the back roads
take in the wonder of a faint yellow sun
green hills and snow
gently rolling thunder
passive triangular monuments
and the beauty of a town
bathed in studded pinnacles
all so far away now
like a memory from a century
300 years in the past,
when the country was host
to feudal provinces
and brutal warlords
who ruled the lives of everyone
under a quasi-unificatory banner,
like a huge forest
at the foot of a mountain
- from Poems from the 90s
take in the wonder of a faint yellow sun
green hills and snow
gently rolling thunder
passive triangular monuments
and the beauty of a town
bathed in studded pinnacles
all so far away now
like a memory from a century
300 years in the past,
when the country was host
to feudal provinces
and brutal warlords
who ruled the lives of everyone
under a quasi-unificatory banner,
like a huge forest
at the foot of a mountain
- from Poems from the 90s
Old Man Namkha
he can wear a long black coat
in the midday sun
a baseball cap shields his eyes,
he walked out of his country
over 50 years ago,
simply left that life behind him,
all the mountains
the indescribable glory of the
vast open plains,
the name of the family
the fame of his wealth,
walked out of Tibet into India
he will never be surprised at what
life might bring to him
he has truly been to the other side,
worked his fingers to the bone
in the unrelenting heat of Bharat,
now he keeps his station
watchin’ over his youngers
taking stock of the breeze
and the distant hum
of his adopted nation,
maybe he thinks of the Land of Snows
but if he does he never shows it
- from Excavations Around the Sun
in the midday sun
a baseball cap shields his eyes,
he walked out of his country
over 50 years ago,
simply left that life behind him,
all the mountains
the indescribable glory of the
vast open plains,
the name of the family
the fame of his wealth,
walked out of Tibet into India
he will never be surprised at what
life might bring to him
he has truly been to the other side,
worked his fingers to the bone
in the unrelenting heat of Bharat,
now he keeps his station
watchin’ over his youngers
taking stock of the breeze
and the distant hum
of his adopted nation,
maybe he thinks of the Land of Snows
but if he does he never shows it
- from Excavations Around the Sun
Secret Police
a crushed packet of
resultant haze
delegating bare-headed trespass,
passing the sheets of information
signed triplicate statements
caught and sort of run amok,
officer
appeared to have struck a blow
and lashed out savagely,
cuffed and gave a surging yell
a glancing crack blow,
darted glance loaded with hiss
that collided with baton
in the doorway a trifle crestfallen went a far abortive venom
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
resultant haze
delegating bare-headed trespass,
passing the sheets of information
signed triplicate statements
caught and sort of run amok,
officer
appeared to have struck a blow
and lashed out savagely,
cuffed and gave a surging yell
a glancing crack blow,
darted glance loaded with hiss
that collided with baton
in the doorway a trifle crestfallen went a far abortive venom
- from Revised Rudeness: Cut Ups
Prayin'
wake up in the mornin’
pray to the buddhas
fill my head with all kinds
of spiritual gumpf
buy into the illusion
they will somehow
protect me from the
inconceivably
unimaginable
universal spin
of the great unknown...
- from London Works
pray to the buddhas
fill my head with all kinds
of spiritual gumpf
buy into the illusion
they will somehow
protect me from the
inconceivably
unimaginable
universal spin
of the great unknown...
- from London Works
Hills of Nowhere
from out of the hills of nowhere
comes a laughing cow
followed by one berserk cow after another,
something heavy must have happened up there
like a coup against Daddy Cow
probably by his infamous brother –
Sir Cedric Udder
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
comes a laughing cow
followed by one berserk cow after another,
something heavy must have happened up there
like a coup against Daddy Cow
probably by his infamous brother –
Sir Cedric Udder
- from Revised Rudeness: Poems 1983 - 1991
Nullabor Song (Excerpt 3)
no man in sight
railroad highway
straight dissection
single track
destination
an awesome whack
solitary trees
bunches of trees
scrub hunches
bunched symphonies
in immensity bowls
of radio light
take it or leave it
must fall steady
or ya jus’ ain’t ready
the urge to write
hand combined
in the show of no force
so important
rollin’ along
that is all there is to it
all there has to be
cuttin’ out shapes
different directions
against trajectory
not best to do when
too far out of station
to create the right kinda
communication...
turn yer head around
try to describe
is tragedy overdrive
scrub pile bakin’
like meditatin’ inside out
on the road to ruin
without a doubt
faith
faith is what you need
faith an’ prayers
glidin’ through this land
before god
solar illumination
expounds sun giant
profound grounds
of proper contemplation
where observation
is not some infestation
by the right an’ wrongs
of babble boys
and babble girls
dressed in their
burkha bible brained
bomb belts
fear smelted
by the graceless hand
of old time man -
what do you say
when all that is swept away?
red soil
map hanging down
directions to where?
land curved plain flat
at the same time
sleepin’
breakin’
weepin’
like ya jus’ have to
carry on with this
railroad writin’
doesn’t have to make sense does it?
rise and fall, comes an’ goes
words on the page
thoughts outta my head tumble...
clear blue sea sky
slowly fadin’ light
red earth illuminates
takes us to a different station
- from Nullabor Song
railroad highway
straight dissection
single track
destination
an awesome whack
solitary trees
bunches of trees
scrub hunches
bunched symphonies
in immensity bowls
of radio light
take it or leave it
must fall steady
or ya jus’ ain’t ready
the urge to write
hand combined
in the show of no force
so important
rollin’ along
that is all there is to it
all there has to be
cuttin’ out shapes
different directions
against trajectory
not best to do when
too far out of station
to create the right kinda
communication...
turn yer head around
try to describe
is tragedy overdrive
scrub pile bakin’
like meditatin’ inside out
on the road to ruin
without a doubt
faith
faith is what you need
faith an’ prayers
glidin’ through this land
before god
solar illumination
expounds sun giant
profound grounds
of proper contemplation
where observation
is not some infestation
by the right an’ wrongs
of babble boys
and babble girls
dressed in their
burkha bible brained
bomb belts
fear smelted
by the graceless hand
of old time man -
what do you say
when all that is swept away?
red soil
map hanging down
directions to where?
land curved plain flat
at the same time
sleepin’
breakin’
weepin’
like ya jus’ have to
carry on with this
railroad writin’
doesn’t have to make sense does it?
rise and fall, comes an’ goes
words on the page
thoughts outta my head tumble...
clear blue sea sky
slowly fadin’ light
red earth illuminates
takes us to a different station
- from Nullabor Song
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