Lamentations

A pale orb silent shines
Over those at rest
Both the living 
And the dead
A million silver tears 
Are quietly shed
For lovers lost
And children taken
In the soft and bitter night
.

Yo Yo Adjustment

 I don’t know which way is up   and which way is right   some police officers   from the zoological geometry division   was asking me the square   of the hippopotenuse   but I kept shtum     I ain’t as dumb as I look    and I don’t look as dumb as I seem    I just stared at their velcro macramé feet    and acted all sweet and innocent    like a cubic hyena in heat  

I had shoes like em once   I said    but they wouldn’t hang straight    they beat me relentlessly    they beat me   thoroughly    when they eventually left    I knew I’d been beaten    cops don’t hand out beatings    like that no more    no pride    no professional pride in their work     I’m not complaining see     and I ain’t going all nostalgic    it’s just I hate to see declining standards    

I lost my sense of up and down    so I went to have my yo – yo adjusted    the man said we don’t do that no more      people use scatellite navigators      I can’t afford no scatellite     if everybody gets a scatellite    they’ll blot out the sun!      but we’ll know where it is     he explained    we’ll track it on scatellites

I got a new string for my yo – yo     but he said I’d have to wind it myself    they had declining standards to maintain     I no longer know which way is up      and which way is right        my yo – yo pulls to the left    or maybe it’s me     standing a little to the right

Burglar

 

The morning sun creeps

Through your window

Like a friendly burglar

.

Stolen

In the mirror
A familiar face
It was stolen
.

Seven Wonders

The Seven Wonders
Walked in the park
No-one saw them
It was dark
.

Over my radio

Velvet doves
Coo in silence
Over my radio
.

The Wolf Moon

The Wolf Moon,
Casts silver daggers,
That pierce the night.
.
.

The Folly Of Wisdom

 

The glamour of corruption,

The conceit of men,

The folly of wisdom.

.

.

The Dark

Afraid of the winter dark

The ghost in the window

Was your own reflection

.

The Dragonfly Hunter

How far to-day in chase, I wonder,

Has gone my hunter of the dragon-fly?

A reinterpretation of a Haiku by Chiyojo (1703-1775)

.

Storm in a Tea Cup

I AM THE BUDDHA
I AM THE BUDDHA
I AM THE BUDDHA
I AM THE BUDDHA
I AM THE BUDDHA
.
I SLAY THE BUDDHA
I SLAY THE BUDDHA
I SLAY THE BUDDHA
.
JUST A LITTLE DROP
IN A CUP OF TEA
CREATES A BUDDHA
IS IT YOU - OR ME
.
I REMEMBER YOUR HAND
SHAKING
THE HAND OF FRIENDSHIP
TREMBLED
.
JUST A LITTLE DROP
IN A CUP OF TEA
REVEALS THE BUDDHA
NONE CAN SEE
.
I REMEMBER YOUR SMILE
FRAGILE
YOUR JUDAS LIPS WERE
KISSED
.
JUST A LITTLE DROP
IN A CUP OF TEA
SLAYS THE BUDDHA
IN YOU AND ME
.
I REMEMBER YOUR LIES
SUBTLE
THE SLIGHT OF HAND
CONCEALED
.
JUST A LITTLE DROP
IN A CUP OF TEA
BETRAYS THE BUDDHA
IN YOU AND ME
.
I AM THE BUDDHA
I AM THE BUDDHA
I AM THE BUDDHA
I AM THE BUDDHA
I AM THE BUDDHA
.
YOU SLAYED THE BUDDHA
YOU SLAYED THE BUDDHA
YOU SLAYED THE BUDDHA
.

Shady Jim

.I didn’t see him, not at first, I didn’t see him, or I would have turned away. Icy cold snakes coiled in embarrassing silence; they spilled from the pit of my stomach and slithered away in disgust. If I’d seen him first, but I didn’t, I just turned around and he was there – a nauseating, heart-stopping, electric jolt of a man.

My blood blanched when a flicker of recognition played across that vacant smile and impassive gaze and he once more held me thralled in his headlights. Then I remembered who he was, what I’ve seen him do, and I just wanted to laugh. I wasn’t afraid, really, I wasn’t afraid, just mesmerised by the symmetry of his stripes and his cold, dead eyes.

I’m thinking Shady Jim was a mean junkie bitch, with a bad case of temper, which allowed him to lean on women and children. So I smote the bitch with my cosmic imagery and Rasta radiation. I fixed him in the constellations with my size ten atomic boots and lit a big bad blunt. Shady Jim? Who the fuck is  Shady Jim?