Twelve Olympians, to rule as they choose.
Twelve Olympians, we'll start with Zeus.
God of sky, thunder, lightning, law.
Ruled the Olympians with the justice he saw.
Commonly referred to as the Father.
Next is Poseidon, God of Water.
"A tamer of horses and a saviour of ships,"
Said in one of Homer's hymns.
Next is Hera, Queen of the Gods, and of women.
Giving mothers a carriage, and marriage to men.
Next is Demeter, Goddess of Harvest, giving fertility.
Hades captured her daughter, Persephone, and her virginity.
Then there's Athena, Goddess of Wisdom.
Lept out of Zeus' head, and earned her throne in the kingdom.
Apollo is next, God of Music, Poetry, Light.
Also capable of bringing plague and plight.
Artemis, Goddess of Moon and Hunt, and Apollo's twin.
Guided mothers through childbirth, a sacred ******.
Also, beloved Aphrodite, Goddess of Love.
Lover of Ares, who favored battles and blood.
Only Hephaestus and Aphrodite were wed.
Fire, metalwork, art of sculpture he led.
Also, there's Hermes, a god bringing word.
Among other things, guide to the Underworld.
Finally, there's Hesta, Goddess of the Hearth.
Feeding families and serving the home with warmth.
Twelve Olympians, to rule the sky.
Twelve Olympians, give your memory a try.

Two eyes appeared from under a broadrimmed hat.
They looked around with astonishment.

In a schoolroom, far off in the distance, a boy was
Busy making a wooden bowl.
The teacher unaccustomed to such slowness
Requested a completion date.
“I am not slow thought the boy, just working
Away until I get it right.”
He met the teacher’s gaze with an expression
Of opacity and a sense of bewilderment.

On another day, at a later date, this same boy
Was found in his metalwork class applying
Cylinders of gases to his small creation, quietly,
Hoping for a connection before he was blown
To smithereans. Two blue eyes concentrated as
The jets of flames hissed into space.
Too long the gases flowed.
The master rose, the boy shook and his eyes
Widened.

In a playground, sometime earlier,
A small boy could be seen playing without a coat.
Gossiping women spoke of this unnatural act,
This exception to the fold. The boy stared back
Hearing their words with his eyes.

Decades later when his hair had turned from
Brown to grey but his eyes were still blue
And wide apart, he painted a little ***
Sitting on a pale surface, gazing into nothingness.
This painting took him a long time.
He had to get it right, the tones , the lines,
The connections.

After he finished ‘Little ***’, he sat down
And stared into the two blue blobs set wide
Apart on its surface and he thought, “this is
Me, the boy, the man, the painter, of wide
Apart, unnameable moments.”

The Beginning.

Love Mary ***

Were you given a star at school for good work?
a smiley face, very good or well done was a perk
I took all of these smiley faces into my soul
guaranteed for life to sustain my future role

Remember how art caught you out - I made a mess
and yet disaster was suddenly made good - more or less
now, woodwork led me to a great cutting edge
being allowed to take home my work was a privilege

metalwork taught me that flux was softer than butter
the words that arose within me - if only I could utter
mathematics made me figure things out - nothing I would lack
but when the master saw my red socks - he said: 'Get to the back.'

Then there was English - the best language to swear in,
such great enlightenment and depth will never come again

I awoke into
A graveyard of bronze horses
The metalwork entwined with dead roots
Upon their backs were words I could not read
About lonely hands
And a plaque was set into the stone
That I could not remove
With dry leaves blown round my feet
I wondered how I'd returned

Her name’s Jane I think
said Jupp

standing beside you
in the school hall

as the ******* the school bus
went by with a slow walk

carrying a bag
over her shoulder

and her dark hair
flowing down her back

anyway he added
how are you getting on

with that maths work
chisel face gave us?

You watched
until she disappeared

into a crowd of other
girls and boys

like watching
the sun go down

on a fine summer’s day
and entering

a dull night
huh? Said Jupp

how you coping
with the **** maths?

All Greek to me
you said

carrying the image
of the girl off with you

as Jupp and you
made your way

along the corridor
to double metalwork

and this metalwork
Jupp moaned

it really ****** me off
what do I care

about making
a frigging tea caddy spoon?

And passing by
a print on the wall

of some Manet dame
you thought

how you’d love
to have a print

of the girl
to carry about

or have pinned
to your bedroom wall

at home
huh? Said Jupp

what’s with spoons?
I’ve no idea

you said
all part

of the brainwash
I guess

and did the girl
move you?

you asked inside
oh yes

oh yes
oh yes.

We followed the road for six hundred miles, there were no turnings off except one in all that length . The South Australian desert seemed endless.
We eventually landed at Maralinga on a newly constructed runway with new buildings and workshops, we were impressed to see it all, but we were not allowed to hang about, a peppery little sergeant directed us  to a waiting vehicle, and we were driven to the camp, there were quite a few buildings, offices and stores mostly. But there were three messes, an officers mess, a seargeants mess and an airmans mess, all of the buildings were temporary- corrugated iron roofs and walls, which could get hot enough to burn any unprotected skin. We reported for duty and were allocated a small two man tent each. My tent was located at the end of a long row, there were about three hundred tents I believe, Gordon's tent was located at the opposite side to mine, he was required to work in the decontamination unit, I was to work in the cookhouse- a humble cook's assistant. I grew to love cooking and still do! At that time all national sevice men were only allotted assistant trades, that was ok by me, I loved to eat as well as the next man! Working in the mess was unbearably hot during the day, but pleasant enough at night. The Australian food was excellent, and there was plenty of it. One thing that surprised me was the size of the potatoes, you only got about thirty to a hundred weight, and they were often hollow, caused by the rapid growing season and the sudden start of the dry season. I had the tent to myself. Almost! During the night, a large Iguana-which lived under the duckboards in my tent- would come out of his hole and climb up the side of my tent, between the actual tent and the fly sheet, then it would slide down the other side. this was repeated half a dozen times every night! Some times I used to drop pieces of meat down for it. Then I discovered that there were other less welcome guests! So I stopped feeding them. The first night that I slept there I was puzzled to see a great pile of blankets on the bed, thirteen in all, I thought that must be for two beds. That night when I lay down  to sleep, I only used one blanket, the night was reasonably warm at that time, I woke up later feeling cold, and added another blanket.  This process continued until I had all of the blankets on my bed. The night time temperature plummetted almost to freezing!  One morning when we were off duty after working all night, I and my friends climbed the one hundred foot high water tower to sunbathe. Big mistake, the silver painted tank grew hotter until by ten 'oclock it was too hot to touch, fortunately we had a blanket each, but decending a one hundred foot tower when all the metalwork, including the steel ladder is too hot to touch is a tricky and dangerous pastime!  More anon.

I HATE IT.
I HATE THIS.
I HATE HIM WHOM I HAVE TO MOURN FOR.
I HATE IT. I HATE THIS.
I HATE THE WAY IN WHICH WICKED IS BAD.
I HATE IT. I HATE THIS.
I HATE PREFORMATIVITY.
I HATE MOST THAT I WRITE THIS.
I HATE IT. I HATE THIS.
I HATE THAT MY ICONS ARE DEAD.
I HATE IT. I HATE THIS.
I HATE THAT I’M BEGGING FOR MORE.
I HATE IT.  I HATE THIS.
I HATE THAT I HAVE TO CHOOSE.
I HATE, FOR WHAT I WAS DESTINED IS TAINTED.
I HATE IT. I HARE THIS.
I HATE THEM WHOM I HAVE TO MOURN FOR.
I HATE IT. I HATE THIS.
I HATE THAT I CAN’T GO BACK. BACK TO THE ZYGOTE, TO THE GRECIAN AGE, TO A LAND WITHOUT EARS.
I HATE IT. I HATE THIS.
I HATE HER WHOM I HAVE TO MOURN FOR.
I HATE IT. I HATE THIS.
I DON’T WANT TO BE WICKED.
I HATE IT. I HATE THIS.
I HATE XIR WHO I HAVE TO MOURN FOR.
I HATE IT. I HATE THIS.
I HATE THAT STEEPED IN PAIN I AM SUPPOSED TO TRANSFORM.
TO SHINE BRIGHT. TO DROWN AND SURVIVE.
I rise in wrath, sadness, regret. Balletic and vile, dipped in warmth. Lifeless, like milk teeth. Tar, sits vast beneath my feet.

I am all. All the ways that it hurts plus the beauty. Padded shoulders, green and purple.

I will never be complete.
Dancing beings underneath the evening stars, stretched out ionosphere, elastic, ecstatic. Paused yet stillmoving.

I am black, pointed. Free, stillinchains. A dripping matriarch. A reflection transcendent, moss-filled and fed up. Afraid.  

Stylish metalwork, animation and formlessness.Wilted and strong. Lilac, xir name.  

Protect these ribs from that strain.
The thoughts unexplained.
Protect the clothes never worn. And the freedom forgotten.
Protect me.
For I still hope to be forgotten.

I never saw you today
in the playground
through the playground fence
you said as you boarded

the school bus
I was at the other end
Jane said with other girls
playing skip rope

o I wondered
where you were
you said
she sat

by the window
and you sat
next to her
well they asked me

to play and I didn't
want to say no
she said
who were you with?

West mostly
he came back  
from lunch early
and we played cards

by the metalwork rooms
not betting were you?
she asked
no

you said
if we had been
I'd have lost
as it was

I only lost cards
not money
o I see
she said

there was a fine quality
to her voice
and her words
were like a kind of music

you noticed her hands
in her lap
one laying on top
of the other

the fingernails
cut neat and pink
you wanted to hold them
but didn't want

the other kids
in the bus
to see
so you just looked

at the hands and fingers
as she talked
of some butterfly
she'd seen

in her garden
and her father
had told her
what it was

and how beautiful
it was
the colours
and the way it flew

and how it was all
a part of God's plan
and creation
but you were only

half listening
you noticed
gazing at her profile
how fine her lips were

when she spoke
how they moved
how her tongue
moved like some dancer

how her eyes
opened wide
at certain words
as if some inner explosion

had brought them to life
and they blazed
like a new world
being born

and you lost
the meaning
of her words
they were as music playing

in another sphere
you sitting there
gazing like a soul
lost at sea

at a far off ship
going a different way
and any S.O.S
you may send

was lost
in the air of the day.

'We apologise for any inconvenience caused'

the day paused.

my train wasn't coming on time this time
but it never came on time last time either and they never apologised then.

They treat me as livestock
ram me into old rolling stock
and my head's on the block
every day.

Intelligence?
it's artificial and we're
prawns for the picking
or pawns being kicked
into castles.

an inconvenience caused
angry times I have paused
but
my conscience would not allow me
to
****.

We've all felt like doing it
with a Saturday night special
or with the zip gun we made
In the metalwork class.

We might as well shove that gun up our ***,
it's pointless
we're impotent
the train's in this moment and
we
do not have the controls


My head hurts
it aches with the
winds blowing in
my skin turns to parchment
and I become part of that
moment
until I have gone
and who will
apologise
then?

I will let u cut my **** off
w/ a butter knife;
as Aphrodite emerged from the ****
of dead Uranus as he came in the sea
he was dreaming of a three-way w/
his son Chronos & his wife Gaia who
so disgusted at the very thought,
induced the young Titan to cut his father's
***** off w/ a scythe; what a *****,
yet from this act of patricide; son castrating
his father at the goading of his irate mother

& declaring himself king of the Gods
mother looking on proudly as the boy
chucks his father's ****** into the sea

& from this cosmic **** came the singular
supernova of female pulchritude;
whose *** coined the word callipygean,
whose face is long forgotten replaced by
1,000 veiled masks as she strips naked
in ways we've never seen women do before;
looking on, little girls sneak away to try
imitate the dance of Aphrodite wet from
the white sea foam her flesh so supple it's
blue & she blows men's minds steadily
throughout time & all because some dude
***** for his ma went after his father w/
a knife in pre-Golden Age in the hills of
Thessaly when the Titans descended from
Mount Othrys to challenge their own
children in battle & Aphrodite et Lolite
beguiled the giant men smelling of *****

her favorite perfume & they couldn't hold
their **** together until the Olympians
led by Zeus descended on them & tore
new ******* throughout space; yet, the

most charming & alluring ******* of all
even ever since those great grand golden day
in the wild green hills of mana, mama &
more & more ******* as time went by still      
the greatest snooch ever conceived                          believe me, this is simple
is that simple    so ****** once a month                          sea of red sea of blue sea of Aphrodite's birth                she the ocean mistress & streetwaker took his whole head filled w/ holes as it was,
                                          a ***** madman acts saner than a ***** sane man                                                              ­  into her underneath her flat belly is a          
                          snooch so absolutely adorable &                 insanely rare as a diamond up ur *** I checked craw & swallowed a *****          madwoman is saner than a ***** woman
                               dreaming of vistas where each atom came            
       together to forge the goddess of beauty                            underneath
Vulcan's ******* metalwork; given the dawn, Iris flees after taking a good look at the newborn naked queen of all thing sweet & good & delicious & lovely;
Aphrodite                                                ­      sole snooch of the Goodest
goddess of love & beauty; there's never
been another although little girls grow into
***** trying to be Miss This, Miss That &
even Miss Thing, the oldest title of them
all with Hottentot ***** & **** like shelves
& faces I just can't seem to remember;

Dear Feminine Grace, bless
me this day w/ the sweetest smelling snooch;
oh, I am the lame prophet w/ ***** of sun
Oh, thousands of millennia have passed
since ur generations went down to the heart
the valley where her ******* roils in hot soup
made from Holy Water & I will kiss the green
sky & huff paint & love the young pups
who have green lettuce in their teeth &                              raisins for brains;
Oh, how the genius grows                                                      green & abstract
from her abstract ***;

I meet *****                 insane women       in the park by the water where Aphrodite walks barefoot towards        me & I go insane; the green grass beneath her feet is soon beneath her *** & I am a                         god only b/c her snooch
becomes visible                               in the universe where it is all that I see & contemplate as if I were a philosopher w/ a ***** & she a goddess w/ a                  bald snooch; O give me heaven this day solid & soft as silk
cal·li·pyg·i·an
ˌkaləˈpijēən/ adjective
adjective: callipygian; adjective: callipygean
having well-shaped buttocks.


Origin: late 18th century: from Greek kallipūgos
(used to describe a famous statue of Venus),
from kallos ‘beauty’ + pūgē ‘buttocks,’ + -ian.

Tire Town USA - An old flour mill with opportunistic metalwork; 
windowless, wooden building with last century's red paint and
an open garage with Able Men clad in baggy skins of oil stained overalls.  

No clear link between their tools and their linguist­ic barks.
Babbling as they dance around the wheel rim popper
Unti­l a clean, white skinned maiden walks through 
the swinging doors­.   


Check out the hottie in the lobby! yells some charming sha­rk.
The blond goddess, wearing a braless tanktop and white summer­ 
pants draping seductively over her buttocks, stands 
behind her­ twin brother.   

Used tires, her brother ask the young Able Man­ by the broken kiosk. 
"Hey Boss" the young Able Man shouts as he­ steps toward the girl. 
The young Able Man offers the girl a bot­tle of water,
which she declines.

An older Able Man escorts the ­boy deeper 
into the cavernous warehouse. 
"It's cold" the young ­Able Man 
says to her **** as she walks away and
then his shoulde­rs slump as if the bottle weighs a ton.

This modern young cavema­n, a grease-smeared untouchable to this filly,
furrows his brows ­until they nearly meet over his nose and 
realizes he can never touch the likes of her.

Your bruises

Went deeper than my skin.

They wounded my heart

My soul

My mind.

They ache

With such longing

For a better life.

It hurts

Because I love you so much

But you don’t seem to love me back.

Maybe you’re just scared

Of losing me

Maybe it’s just

What you always went through as a kid

Playing out

Involuntarily.

Trauma does that to you.

But the doctors

They tell me it’s not an excuse.

I kept my promise

And didn’t go to the doctor myself.

You just threw me against the wall

And I hit the metalwork

And started bleeding out.

You didn’t mean to.

I know that.

But you were scared

And the baby was crying

So you called 911.

It was one of the hardest things you

Have ever done.

And when it happened—

The incident—

You cried.

You felt so bad

You had hurt me.

You took that same anger,

That same fear,

And pointed it at yourself.

You pulled the trigger

Of your hatred.

You jumped off the bridge

And drowned in your depression.