"you got your horse...
it's well drawn
elaborate and real
little Vicky -
but where's the cart?"
asks the art teacher

"Oh", says wicked Vicky
drawing on a lesson from her poetry class
"The horse will draw it"

report this poem
it's deviant
it may teeter into f-word terrain
and it's not what one might
think a poem ought to be

malign this poem
it's mutant
it does not have form,
history or conventions
it doesn't refer to a point in the world
it's self-referential
(no comment on poverty or humanity
no evaluation of terrorism or social ills -
it's not even about love
or about the poet's first-world woes)

and so pointing back at itself
it's like ******* -
which is always a crime, always has been;
de-construct this poem
for it drifts into no meaning -
it does not help humanity transcend

useless, uninspired, with no legitimacy
it must not be -
report this poem to have it removed

Goya's not gone
his nightmares and realities still shadow us -
the Los Desastres de la Guerra
still palpitate in our desert lands and hills
beating like hearts the Aztecs offered the sun;
and the barbarism of an axe over heads still thrives -
and barbarians can never hear the plea of a mother

Tampoco
tells us of women and girls ***** in war
and Oh, the Fight with Cudgels
looms large over our skies
and the horror of Saturn devouring his son
pervades the earth
and the Black Paintings
run amok in the form of men shrouded in black

Ah, Picasso is there too in our madness:
Guernica bares its teeth and monstrosities

you are now in one half
of the world floating about;
the other half of the apple asunder
is where I am

just the other day
N Korea blew their arsenal
and America on the other side said:
Anything you can do, I can do better
and they all regaled us all with fireworks

And Russia said: Don't mess with me
I got arsenals and patriotism
and it's not Afghan tribes we're fighting this time

and then the terrorist nations said:
Have we got a surprise for you -
we're nuclear family too
and so humanity was treated
to New Year's celebrations out of season
and earth broke in two

(and God said:
Thank you for the Holy Wars,
and all in my name too;
nothing's gone in vain -
I'll see you in Heaven
with fair maidens
and virgins for you to *****)

and so it is we are floating in two halves
and sometimes,  just sometimes
our two earths will glide past each other
and we might see each other -
and we could, if you are so disposed,
wave at each other (with missiles in hand)

abcd
efg
hi jk
lmnop
qrs tuv
w x y
zzzzzzz zzzz zzzzz

let there be no bitterness in my heart
no regrets, no judgement that berates
let me walk on my path,
let there be birds that shall sing
let there be joy in my heart
and may that be shared by those that I
might meet on my way

let me not value, nor pass sentence
let me not frown, or smirk
let me have my path that is radiant
with no system, nor ownership
free of labels
and may I walk that way, my own
let there be the sun, the moon and space
all things that exist, in their nature
and let those Mighty Here and Above
know I will not follow nor will be followed
and if it need be, may others be pleased
when they shall see me pass by

below are notes from various people (all imagined) to Karma...

NOTE 1
Dear Karma
You're doing a great job -
people are in deep **** as they deserve
But what I don't understand is -
why me too?

NOTE 2
Dear Karma
I've got a hit list
of people
you've missed

NOTE 3
Dear Karma
I can see so many ambitious
becoming downright failures
as they justly deserve to be -
but how come
I'm still at the bottom of the ladder?


NOTE 4
Dear Karma
Life's not fair  -
I punched the guy next door
straight on his tummy
and he broke my arms and legs


NOTE 5
Dear Karma
You're somewhat erratic
I invited the beggars into my house
and they stole everything
Is that how it's supposed to work?
I don't see my reward in this;
I don't even get to be famous like Mother Teresa

NOTE 6
Dear Karma
All the baddies
are doing well
but why does a good guy
like me fare so bad?


NOTE 7
Dear Karma
You can do no wrong
as you're keeping things exactly
as they should be -
I'm doing superb;
everybody else is ******* up
That's the way I like it

This ghost was thinking:
do I exist in my own world
or do I only exist
in the human world?
if humans do not see me
do I exist,
or do I exist only
as they experience me?

And it thought so hard
it went up in a cloud of smoke -
****! - just like that
and ceased to be, from that moment

*Poor ghost,  it never found out the answer
And a human died and became a ghost
to take its place
and so it goes

I have no appetite
for pronouncements, platitudes
declarations, meditations and revelations
no patience for wisdom
and cogitations and much worse
regurgitations
no stomach for moanings and
groanings
musings, and working out meanings
much less about how your groin is today
I'd just like to
(like Renoir,  if I may,
just focus and work)
not to be anything,  no attempt
to be
just what is natural and easy
play and laugh
and when it's time
just *yawn and sleep

dear sparrow
at my window -
what should I do now
with all this pain in me
and all this stubborn sorrow?*

there are the scars of life
and all that we do to one another
there's the injustice I suffered
at the hands of those who had power
and I stumbled and I fell
and there was laughter all round
there is regret and time offers no solace
and I am left in my isolation
staring through my  window
at passing strangers with vacuous looks

*dear sparrow
at my window -
what should I do now
with all this pain in me
and all this stubborn sorrow?

don't you hate it? -
when you write a poem
and you adopt this persona
you use "I"
(yeah, the first person)
and your reader is so ****** literal-minded
and takes the "I" to be "you"
and comforts you, or winks at you
offers heavy commiseration
or provides motherly or
fatherly advice
or grandpa's advice
(as the case might be)...
and you want to scream:
Hey, it's not me!

it's like the novelist
who's asked by their readers:
Is this novel about your life?

*Hey, it's not me! It's not me!

When I was a teenager
(like Dave Allen must have been)
I was at confessional
and the priest asked me what my sin was

" I have been in bed, Father
with a woman
of loose morals," I said
and refused to give a name

He sighed and he said:
"Was it Anna Berley?"
I said I couldn't tell
"Was it Sue Saxton?"  he persisted
I insisted I was sworn not to tell
"Nora Muxton?"  he asked again
I remained silent
And he dismissed me then with
5 Our Fathers and  5 Hail Marys


My mate Sam was outside
and he asked what I got
and I said to him:
*"5 Our Fathers and  5 Hail Marys -
and 3 good leads is what I got"

the woman came in
to our office
and my deputy took her statement

her husband had been missing
over three days;
and she handed in a photo
for identification

and she had a message
for her husband, faithfully recorded
by my deputy:
*"Come home, darling-
mother didn't come to visit after all"

Look, we prosecutors in Law Town
we are so well-practiced
that if we set our minds to it
we can even put on trial a turkey sandwich

In fact
just last week we managed
to get a banana convicted of ******;
sure, the conviction was overturned later on appeal -
but hey, the point is, we can skin anybody

For sure the woman
killed her husband -
she served him hot soup
mixed well with poison

But her defense lawyer wanted
to give her a chance
so maybe she could get
a few years instead of life

And so he asked her as
she stood in the box:
“Mrs Tile, did you feel any remorse,
considering you killed your husband?”

“Sure, I did,” said Mrs Tile
*“when he asked for second helpings”

We had to camp out in the woods
my deputy and I, on duty
at the last Town Music Festival
and as we lay down
I said to my deputy:
"Deputy, tell me what you see"

And my deputy described the stars
and the moon and the heavens
with infectious passion and poetic intensity;
and the deputy spoke with feeling
of soaring heights and sublime elation -
and then with a triumphant air
he turned to me: "Now it's your turn,
Sheriff - tell me what you see"

And I said: *"Someone, deputy,
has stolen our tent..."

Well, my deputy had been in the job
a month into it
and the deputy called me on the phone
from the woods nearby, on routine duty:
"Hello sheriff – there’s a body here,
I just noticed, below a tree…he appears dead
What do I do?"

"Well," I answered, with authority
"Before we take things any further,
first, let’s ensure he’s dead -"

And my deputy said:
"Hang on..."
And then my deputy was back on the phone:
*"OK, I just put 3 bullets in him
I’m dead sure he’s dead
What do I do next?"

Well, a month into the job
as local sheriff I needed an assistant
and so I advertised and got one interviewee
“What’s 1 plus 1?” I asked
“11,” came the swift reply

Well, I thought, that was creative,
and might be useful in the job
and so I said:
“What two days of the week start with T?”
“Today and Tomorrow,” was the reply

Well, maybe that’s how creative people are, I thought,
in this part of the country;
so I narrowed things to general knowledge:
“Who killed Abraham Lincoln?”

“Wow!” said the candidate, completely elated.
*“You mean I got the job
and you’re already putting me
on my first ****** case?’

the holy home (and possibly strict)
has its dining adorned with a sign:
Pray before you eat
The sign may be literal, or invisible

at the grocer's today I saw
this sign pasted on to a big box
of loose sumptuous dates:
*"Pay before you eat"

you visit this disused Olde Gaol
remote, renowned
250 years old and now a musuem;
and rumoured to be haunted

you love the thrill but fear meeting
a ghost,  the one said to make
unexpected appearance in this prison
"I love the excitement," you tell the guide
"but I'd die if I met one"

The guide pooh-poohs your suggestion
and says: "In all my time here
I have yet to see a ghost"

"And how long," you ask, "have you
worked here?"

And the guide answers: *"245 years"

My love, my sweetheart
she is as white as cold milk
at will as transparent as glass;
her lips are red, as red as dripping blood

she wakes me up each night
with a newly-plucked out
still-beating heart
of all varieties of human emotions:
"Breakfast in bed?" she croons

O her every word is a scream
her every look burns the spirit
she shrieks and groans and moans
enough to raise me up to the clouds
O her very touch is icy cold
her embrace is as delightful as being
in the arms of Queen Winter -
O...Ooo...wwooooh...should I compare her in a sonnet to a Winter's night?
but that would be groundless
for she excels
every unpleasantness
and horror, and she breaks all form

My love
she screeches like car tyres in a sudden stop
she scratches down my back
like a tractor on farm land
her eyes are hollow
and we exchange worms when we kiss;
her ears pop out
of her dry, unkempt straggly hair -
O she drives me into long howls, that wild wild
ghost of once a woman

O eternity,  eternity with my cold, cold love
O what would I not give to be always
and always
in spirit with her -
O I could die forever
to be in the cold, cold embrace
of my hollow-eyed screamy love

at Graveyard 659
the ghosts are floating in a meeting

“Someone ought to put up a
wall round our graveyard,”
opines one wise bearded ghost

“And why?” asks the Chair

“Why?” screams the reply
*“Can’t you see what's up
with those mortals? -
there's such huge demand
everyone’s just dying to get in...”

And Mr and Mrs Ghost are at the restaurant -
Our *****-ghetti Place -
the one at the dead end,
and that plays their
favorite soul music

"How would you like your drink, ma’am?"
asks the Head Waiter,
who, for obvious reasons,
is just a floating head

"I’ll have my drink ice ghoul, screech you,"
says Mrs Ghost
"And as usual, Mr Ghost would like his
eggs terri-fried, please"

"Also," says Mr Ghost, "I’ll have coffin after"
"Scream or sugar?" asks the floating head
"6 spoons of scream,  screech you"
"And same for you too, ma’am?"
And Mrs Ghost  replies:
*"No…Booberry Ice Scream, please"

This, children, is our dinning room
(Humans, as you know, have dining rooms
which are such dreary and un-lively rooms
to which we can add zest,
flavour and excitement
with a few clamorous apparitions) -
but this, as I was saying, is our dinning room
which is where you learn to howl and scream
so your performance at human dining rooms
will simply be tummy-turning
You see, you want to make humans feel
like they are sprouts in a Chinese stir-fry -
now, kids - *howl and scream!

my wife’s always late
so I wailed: “Hurry up, dear
or it'll be light...
You know, the early ghost
catches the faint-hearted”

“Hang on,” she howled
(I’d died on the rope, you see)
“just my finishing touches
with my mas-scare
and a bit more of my scare spray”
and then she floated out
into the dying room
(we don’t have living rooms, you understand)
looking just *boo-tiful

My sister wants to marry
a ghost – I just can’t work out
what’s possessed her

And my elder sister
she wants to marry Dracula –
now, what I’d like to know is what bit her

And as for myself,
I’d like to marry a zombie –
and listen, I’m dead serious about that

But most astonishing is my eldest sister -
she wants to marry a man
And the long and short of it is,
the family just can’t work out
*what’s got into her

ghosts believe people exist
like people believe God exists
like God believes people exist
like people believe ghosts exist
like ghosts believe people exist

it seems man says
(thanks to Descartes):
I think, therefore I am

it seems God says:
*Man thinks I am
therefore I am

we are the refined
the delicate, the rarefied
the genteel, whose words
are etheral and our thoughts
exclude all things physical

for us the ideals, the pure
the clean and the pristine
conventions suit us best
and the unquestioned
fits us like custom-made gloves

our lives are regulated
there's something in it
for each of us
we have all the answers
and for sure, we are the ones
going to Heaven

couretsy marks our birth
and everyone walks about
with the Dictionary
of Respectable Words
when we kiss
we don't exchange fluids
and when we have ***
we are dispassionate


we bring civilisation to the world
and we sunbathe in idyllic beaches
and we plan to tour the moon soon
we are tourists really all our lives
and when we are not, we polish our cars
and bemoan the State of the  Environment


we are the refined
the delicate, the rarefied
the genteel, whose words
are etheral and our thoughts
exclude all things physical

Poet A and Poet B
sat down to a competition
They had to improvise lines
ending in Timbuctoo

And so Poet A improvised with most
elegant and mellifluous voice:
O let us go over the vast oceans
and seek the exotic,  the mysteries
O let us trudge through harsh lands
till we reach the fair and distant Timbuctoo

And Poet B extemporised:
*Tim and I met three fair maidens -
we were eager and they were game too
so  I bucked one and Timbuctoo!

my wife is stupid -
that I found on our first day -
she loves poetry

I have no books at home
and the closest library
is mountains away;
and she sold my prize-winning cow
on her second day
for a book of poems -
that silly cow!

But I did nothing
nor will I berate her
for truly I vowed at our local church
to love her for *butter or verse

you know Poet Archetypal -
everything about him
was Poe-tickle
When he sneezed
he said: Haiku!
When introduced
to someone,  he'd say:
"Haven't we met-a-phor?"
He's quite resourceful
like he'd introduced himself to the girl
because he wanted to meter
When he took his leave he'd say:
"Love to stay - but it's getting a-lliter-ate"
And sure he met Luke Skywalker
and said to him: "Met-a-phors with you"


It was fun having him around
but lately he's been in prison
for driving without poetic license;
and also because his creditors pursued him
because he just Ode so much

it just hit me
how dead
snail mail is

Going on this trip
I told my grandson,
with measured exaggeration:
“I’ll send you a letter
the moment I get there”

“Yes, send me an A,”  he said

Mapel retired, and felt old
within a week;
and so she went for a walk
and in the neighbourhood
she saw an old man on his rocking chair
at his porch
yet  seeming young

And so Mapel asked:
"What's your secret
that you look so young
and sprightly? "

And the old man replied:
"My secret? I smoke daily
and drink countless glasses
I eat no vegetables
and meat is all I put in
Exercise is unnecessary
and watching TV is better than sleep"

"How old are you?"asked Mapel
amazed...

*"Oh, I'm twenty-five"

I came out of my consulting room
and there seated in the corner
was a patient - a man with a frog
growing out on top of his head

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed
to the monstrosity
(dropping my usual doctor's reserve)
"How did this happen to you?"

And the frog replied:
*"I don't know, doctor!
It just started off
as a pimple on my ****!"

Beats me how silly
people can be

I ordered online
part 669
but they sent me 699

I sent it back -
and would you believe it? -
6 times again and again
those nuts
sent me part 699
instead of part 669 that I asked for

Beats me how silly
people can be
for when I sent it back the seventh time
they sent me 699 again, with a note:
“Turn box other way round”

Now, why didn’t they tell me that
the first time round?
Beats me how silly
people can be

times change
but it's always
the same old problem


The Past
"Grandma, I'm marrrying
a black guy," said Lucia
"What the hell!" cursed Grandma

The Present
"Grandma, I'm marrying
Mike,"  says David
"What the F^^^!" curses Grandma

The Future, c. 2035
"Grandma, I'm marrying
a robot," Lucy says
"What the #^@!" Grandma curses

My robot died yesterday
May 14, 2035
A little tap and a squeeze
on my shoulder
and it gasped:
"Goodbye, master -
I'll see you in Heaven"
And then a few clicks
and a few kicks
and it lay down still and silent

And at its funeral
I intoned all 3 final words
with the deepest love and gratitude:
*"Rust in  Peace"

Little Tim and Little Sam
were playing by a stream
and Tim went off
to ease himself
and Sam grew impatient
waiting so long for him;
and so he ran along
to catch up with Tim

And there was Tim
behind a tree
at the stream
looking at a naked woman swim -
so Tim and Sam,
both growing boys, stood
side by side watching the phenomenon

And suddenly Tim ran off
and Sam followed his friend
and catching his breath, he said:
Why did you run away?

And Tim's reply was
to the point, and firm:
*My mom warned me
if I looked at a woman naked
I'd turn to stone -
and how true, for while at the stream
I felt something of me harden!

1)
See, **** Susan is on holiday
and she's made her way
to the hotel roof
on her second day
**** Susan takes off her dress
and in her bikini
she sunbathes on the roof
"Ah, this is the life," she says
"The sun and the roof all to myself"

2)
See, **** Susan on her third day
this time
sunbathing stark naked
on the roof
and she turns over
with her buttocks to the sky
and the native  hotel bellboy
comes running up
and panting
and from an official distance he says:
"Madam, I humbly beg you
put on bikini at least
like you did yesterday"

And see **** Susan smirking
and she says:
"What's the problem,  kid?
No one's gonna see me here"

"But madam," says the cringing native
*"You are lying face down
on our high-tech one-way vision
dining-hall skylight roof"

If plants can communicate
so can planets

and so two planets started talking
and one said: How are you?

And the other replied:
I've got a medical condition -
the doctors say I've got
a serious case of **** sapiens

And the first one replied:
*Oh, never you worry about that;
I had the same condition
and it didn't last long

if you should fall
any stage in your life
in your struggles
even in your leisure -
anytime, for you
I shall be there

even if you should fall
high on from the ladder
or in desperate moments
or even just from a chair
know that I shall be there
anytime, for you
always I shall be there

Oh, by the way
I'm not your mom -
*I'm just the plain hard floor

I'd like to talk about I -
ergo, a poem about I
I write I poems
therefore I am
and I'd like you to read about I
and then another poem about I,
ad nauseam
Look, if I find I so obsessively interesting
I don't see why
you should not love my I
I am unique, and I mean I -
so you should find I;
and I reiterate
I'd like to talk about I
a poem about I
each ubiquitous I poem
the equivalent of a visual selfie:
the I-am-eating-cornflakes-now type
or I-am-constipated-now type
I am I's favourite - I follow I
so I'd like you to read about I
You will surely find I
(cos I know I best)
a pleasure to eye

The kid next door
was in his garden
digging with a little *****
like he was burying something

"What you doing, kid?"
I asked earnest little Jerry
"You look like you're burying something"

"Yeah...." replied the boy
"I'm burying my goldfish"

"Oh," I said, with a condescending grin.
"Mighty big grave
for a little goldfish, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Jerry replied.*"That's because
my goldfish is inside your cat"

Little Tony came running
to his Grandpa Billy:
"Grandpa, Grandpa
can you make sounds like a frog?"

And Grandpa Billy said:
"Well, Tony...I reckon I could make
frog sounds if I tried"

"Yes!" shouted Tony, radiating all eagerness
*"That's good. Now we can all
go to Disneyland, just as grandma said,
when you croak."

My wife’s given me 6 children
and all we’ve known is each other
so I can’t but help feeling a little
that she’s old, so I started calling her
“Mother of 6” instead
of using her name
So at parties and gatherings
I might say: “Alright, Mother of 6 -
time to go”
Or I might introduce her to new friends as
“This is Mother of 6”

But she obviously can’t take
my humour any more...
last night
as I called out to her
(at the dinner hosted by our neighbors)
when it was time to leave:
“Mother of 6, time to go” -
she retorted just as loud:
“OK, lead the way -
O Father of 4!”

O how I hate people
who can’t take
a joke…

INTRODUCTION
someone's following you online here,
and you want to know why
Well, here's why...take your pick


POSSIBILITIES*

1)
Oh, I follow you because you look good
and though I never read your poems
I come back often
year after year
to see if you age at all


2)
you don't use your real name
you use a moniker or pseudonym -
and I'm just  going by the desperate hope
you are Obama or Putin incognito
and you might give me asylum one day
if I'm outlawed by one or the other

3)
I'm in jail for life
and this is the only way I can stalk anyone

4)
I was hoping you'd reciprocate
and follow me too -
so why the hell don't you, hypocrite!?

5)
I'm your ****** boss in disguise
and I'm at this site keeping track
of how much office time you waste here,
you ****** loafer!

6)
I'm actually your wife
and I got a thing or two to say to you
about all those comments
you've written for the women here
Same old liar here and at home, aren't you?
Just wait till you get home...

7)
Well, I'm a ****** academic
who never gets creative
so I'm collecting all your poems
and I'll publish them in my name
and there'll be praise all round for me
as academic, and poet, and novelist too
(the novels I steal from my students)

8)
you scratch my back
I scratch yours

9)
Why do I follow you?* -
but aren't you my mum?
You never taught me
to let go of your apron strings

10)
actually, it was a mistake, see
I was on my smartphone and I went
tap, tap, tap
and my index finger fell on "Follow"
and I'm too darned lazy to set it right...
that's how I ended up following you


11)
My cult tells me
the Messiah is here at this site
so I just follow everyone
in case it happens to be you -
it is you, isn't it?

1
Gardener Moe
and Fishermen Joe
are at the pub
and Moe confesses
(his eyes shallow, and moist) -
he’s just lost his woman

“What happened?” asks Joe
his eyes as deep as the ocean

2
And so Moe groans:
“Susan just left me
It seems I whispered
in lust all night
the name of my former lover Rosie
– so Susan’s left me”

And Fisherman Joe leans forward
so he can be heard
and he shares his wisdom:
*“Even a fish, Moe, will not
get into trouble – if it know'
when to keep its mouth shut”

Samuel walked up to his boss
and demanded in no uncertain terms:
"You'd best give me a pay rise -
you might want to know
3 companies are after me"

"Wow," said Samuel's boss
deeply impressed. "Which companies?"

"Oh," came Samuel's swift reply
*"The telephone,  electricity
and water companies"