i


i became interested in poetry
through bukowski
basically

i thought poetry was about
love and daffodils
literally

but can be about boozing
and ******, fighting
cats and dogs..

ii

why not drop
food and medical
aid?

from airplanes
(or helicopter)
clearly marked

bottles of water
and so..
¨from god..¨!?!

(A ripple of
applause
cod..?)(-cash on delivery..)

iii

lily says
thankyou..
this is called-

the universe-
(my mum went to
school with you!?)

iv

i feel ancient
like the light
that travels from
furthest depth

it is twisted and
bent
still lit

but hopeful..
like luggage lost
in transit

i await..
i have a number
and pretty colour

soul intact
can the can
computer enhanced..

v

what is wrong with
man?
well,it is the difference

(in silence)
between a power tool
screaming kids

yappy dogs
desparate dans
and a circle..

not any ones fault
not yours
but not mine..

(a stifled laugh
a cough
a truthful shuffle)

vi

she pauses for
to imbibe..
o momentarily entranced
by the H2o
-any questions?yes-
do you exist?
do you exist?
-on more than a purely
perfunctory basis-
(my mum went to school
with you..)

vii

existence

composed to resistance
-rene said,
i think therefore i am..

i prefer-
all i  i know is
i know nothing..

(one of the old greek boys..)
what if i can´t think..
what if it hurts..


(silence-the furtive rustle
of
a sweet wrapper
a no 23 goes by..
for some a ball
for i-music was the answer..)

viii

music

bob marley says,
music is a godly thing
y´know..?

the theme from tales
of the river bank
filled my

heart with love
and my head with
ambition..

silence is a kind
of music
the older i am

the more i love
that
too..

(love-karma
comrades
kind folk
strangers and
acquaintance-
indistinguishable
unavoidable
inevitable
pay the bill
eternal
officer dibble
no wibble
no wobble
a glass full
a charging bull
eternal again
chuff chuff
cosmic train
what i am giving
is what i am
getting-
simple but endlessly
complex..)

ix

complex

i don´t really like this word
i don´t use words i don´t like
but there it is
my mind is a blank
my leg itches
what about this world?
(bless my britches..!)
does the heart sink
does despair abound
do we desire closure
is it suffice
has it got a bit
too much
are we done?
no, there is space..
(space, the bit
between)
free and tedious
we consider the void
the gaps
between us..
(the no 23 goes past
and in a seat
some one waves
and blows a kiss..)
for want of a better
word..

a happy quiet
some positive
thoughts
what it is to
live-
i thought i might
try something different
lily says..


i have always admired
the art of the story teller and regret
their demise from popular culture..

x

once when after a successful ****
and apetites sated amid the crackle of
flame in a silence a moon  sighing
made to the front by the fire
between hunter and blood baptised
moved the medicine man
ju-ju and seer
with pipe and bone to bless
the warrior shadow and women
laughter admonishing small children
the cave grew hushed and stilled..

his first cry the prey´s last
a victory and a blessing
hiss and rattle

to the earth to the heavens
the second the sun
and moons

survival and fruitful
ness
-to the rain

he tokes his kit
and passes to the left
anoints the head

kisses the dead
and the refrain
for today and

tomorrow
-together
-together..

(celebration and commune
gone before the f or fight
of the nomad

the birth of possession..
order in might
the land

our own
black and white
o tribe of man!)



so the **** was the
inspiration and unification
a stone recollection

a moment of daring
the fired dancing of
imagination

searing rytham
on and on and
in

the bloodied sing
stone to bone
stone to bone

great the hunter
the victors song
one and on..

and so we learned to read and write
and tell tales..