Poems


urban cynicism

is my catechism as i wonder around

the barren ground of ugly architecture an suburban sprawl

this world is such a beautiful place

as it spins around in outer space

how can it be we`ve lost the sacred in our race

for modern living its a disgrace

some days i feel like i`m going to kill

as i tool up in side and cross the threshold

that thin divide an turn serial killer suicide

walking out in the street

guns blasting

what a heat

mowing down the supporters of mediocrity

an act a symbol of protest

at this god dam god awful mess

of living in our 20c pool of cess

however my pen is my weapon

thank the quatum heaven

as the sputtering of my ink

is far better than the stink and chattering of an a k 47

issuing hate at a rate

most people would find hard to contemplate

As I sit in my suburban prison

shrugging with indecision

one thing comes to mind

that saves my mind

at least i can see and feel

perfection

the epiphany of being

as the sacred moment comes into focus

the venusian ray comes on

all is not lost

i sing this song of celebration

that rhythm that light the colour the angles

the geometry of perfection is my angel

leading me into salvation

as my soul is opened with the golden key

art in action

exaltation

today we do produce great works

often in the name of science

as we explore the inner an outer reaches

of inner and outer space

know as cern

where Giants accelerate atoms rushing them around

smashing them to pieces

picturing the sound

an although this may be an eccentric view

when I first saw a picture of particle z

my reaction was phew

what a beautiful example of modern art

produced by a team of people working so hard to capture

PARTICLE Z

WITH A PRICE TAG THE OLD MASTERs CAN NOT COMPETE

2 billion pounds

magnifique

so perhaps there is some hope in our modern race

this might be our version of

the pyramids

chartres or grand central station

but

yesterday on the news i saw amongst the rubble

the space telescope hubble looking at creation

amongst the trouble of

dame shirley porter grocer`s daughter

tory dirty dealings and a deep sense of grief

over bosnia and palestine boiled my inner feelings

as I ask myself how this be

all this carnage in the name of allah

jehovah or the plo

I heard a man pledge his 21 children to the cause

so as each one was killed a new one would fight

i saw these poor children already sold

like a futures market produce

into a mind set of slavery

before they grew bold

wake up wake up

we are living on one world in division

tearing each other to pieces in

the name of something or other

when really we are all brothers and sisters in

the sub atomic world and galactic structures

what we need is a new vision

to heal this world deep incisions

all I can offer to my fellow earth dwellers is my

appreciation of nature in perfection

which turns my head even in the darkest moments

of depression

Get a picture of particle Z

and meditate upon those fine threads

that connect us together

look at a picture of the earth hanging in space

feel its beauty and amazing grace

then turn your gaze up into the heavens

and drink the majesty of n g c 317

brought to you though the magic of space telescope hubble

sailing around on our atmospheric bubble

28,000 miles above our troubles

I hope these thoughts

may lift you for one moment out of the mire

of hate despair an loathing

of the major and minor chords

at who knows best and convenience foods

so if these words reach your heart

the next time you are tearing your self apart

i beseech you
take one moment to look
at some wonderful art

Test Audio MP3

No in no out
No up no down
We are the ocean in synchronous motion
Yet when separate we are each little drop
plop

Born astride a grave

what a cosmic rave

just one microbit of information

there is no seperation

Flashing in and out of being

Our unique imprint seeing

Eternity in love with creation

we are one harmonic ovation

Sometimes i get very zen

and just when ive got it

its gone again