15 Poems
Song of the Sonophobe
Another night of bouncing bass, acoustics and soft explosions
rumbling through the dark from some yobs with cars and woofers
Wrap me around you bedside fan
let me drown in unmelodious hum
anything but the beat-beat-beating of moon-soaked cymbals and drums
Not a hope
of course
Sonic umbrella faring the worse
and I crouch in my bunker earing the bombs
’til at last I’m blown to sleepareens
But the mumbling undulations follow me still
needle my dreams and freeze me ill
‘til I melt into morning a mess of cold sweat
an eye on the clock daring it to tock
I’ll kill the fuckers
Only I won’t
Who’d complain in a place like this?
An alien with his head on wrong
A sonophobe from the planet prick
I’d be marked forever as a mad git
ranting and raving about a bit of song
Music’s fun!
Get with it!
What’s up with your ears anyway?
Nothing much, which is all the worse.
(You know they have you
when they have you wishing
for an eardrum burst)
When I looked upon a Car
Oh, prim witch, can you not uncrack your smile to make a sale?
Your fault-lined face jagged and spiked
Did no one oil you up today?
The clickings in your head buzz dry
What inner static stiffs you so?
(Why did I come here anyway? All metal and wheels and shine. Suffer me the steel-laden air…)
But wait, Judge Jaded, my inner wretch,
what causes this riff, this nasty bass?
As if her face forever frowned…
But maybe, in a lick of light
a change of mood could take her flight
and we’d cheery talk of life gone spare
words a-bounce like tennis balls
we’d float a sea with salty tales
we’d bang our heads on wordy walls
and spin the breeze ‘til it sucked us up
and off to Kansas in a tick
‘til Oz surrenders and we crack the whip
There’s no place like…
….this model though we only have white or black unless you’re…
…over 5 years but the interest would be slightly higher…
She’s not biting I see
my hooks spin above her murky pond
her eely eyes can’t trace their trails
and so I respond
minus the fat
as lean and white and black as…
…Thanks for that. I’ll have a think
Then off and out into the city’s stink
Dance of The Flower King
Burst out upon me pain, cover me with bliss,
because folded in you’re eating me away,
and soon the shell will collapse.
You ever seen a man inside out?
Maybe in a film,
the bloody corpse a famished fly eating its own effluvium. Not a pretty sight I say,
but blind we are and won’t get a pass unless.
Dance with the Flower King in his lonely meadow brave. You’ll make a pretty cover for his nethers
as he rags on your grave
But not gravely
That wouldn’t do
And you’ll like it too
Step with him and make it move
the whirligig of rhythm the only truth
in silent spaces, inbetweens
a marine, a spy, a rolling cry
over, under and through the roar
the Flower King and you. Go!
No?
Head won
Back in
Shut up
Lock him up
Whoever he was
There’s work to be done
This is work? That’s news
But soon you’ll get used
flipped on your head
you’re the crab walking backwards
and worse upside down
That’s a feat
Like the horror when she comes down the stairs
You’ll never sleep
Until you forget
And then it’s second nature and you’re fit to burst
a loping old madman running three-legged
With a dead horse
Is that where it’s at?
Well, how can you know?
Dragging him along behind for a song
You’re getting paid
That’s the main
When you’re trying with the filters on
and your condition is to stop
that’s the message, push and push
Giving birth must be painful?
Except when it’s not
and filters off, you let go
and out he comes a-singing
Doctor, Doctor, leave me alone
I can walk already and don’t need your help
So, let out a yelp as they touch you up
Knock them off before the drugs kick in
He’ll pound on your belly from the inside out
Let
Me
Out
Don’t listen to them
It’s not giving birth with these spineless docs
it’s forever labour with the child inside
The last thing they’ll welcome is new life
It’d bloody the place up
An alien. Like the…
Did you see that one too?!
Buuuuurst!
That’s the way to get through!!!
Ah, the Flower King, love and muse
always there, if always abused
He’ll trip you up with a golden petal
and throw you under a dandelion bus
Feels like fate but it’s just
Come on
Ruuuuuuuun!
You start slowly
motionless thrust
All they’ll see is another you
Forget it! On through the culture soup!
Almost clear, not a consomme
but consummated true
your marriage to something pure
begins
with a flick of the dirt dark air
a fleck of dust that mocks your stare
and turns your mind to the fading light
every spark you’ve held dear
burned or bright
that steered you well
Jump for all and leave all behind!
The Flower King’s here
and you’ve arrived
Mall Ciao
Where’s the rhythm in this place anyhow?
Over there. You lost your place. Cash cow.
Sale. Well cashing out, all it is to stay for a minute with the empty stares and the rushing stairs, musical faces of the mall, not even droll, can’t find the way out now, who designed this maze? this Greek adventure where the bull always wins, slays your will to live as you crawl past the bins, one more jingle will do me in, you can’t dance on air, Fred, but tiptoe through the mines the
Mine, mine, mines! Mind your mines, that’s all it is, a credit card and a wallet of fizz, bubble me a note, feed on the froth, you may be entranced but I’m
Fat stickman! my saviour, exit pray, arrow of gods points me free, I’ll hang on to you, or anything else, give me the speed of light for my pelt, the light wide doors approaching fast, a burst of legs, a whoosh of gas, propel me through, even through the glass, couldn’t care less
Ciao Mall!
I’m ouuuuuut!
The Piano
Ah, the piano’s lonely flight from there to there
What a fright she must have got to see her place
among the rot of the ragged rich
as if their snot
glowed like their faces
when she arrived
only because she must sing their wiles
her notes their airs to homes around
They must have a bit to make that sound!
What dim torture of this musical beast
to be sat upon by heathen hordes
trampling its keys just to make some din
Its wooden struts must be frozen in shock
as its tender guts are forced to purr
“Let the cat at it rather than you, sir!”
And as the notes bound over the fence
army of sound sonically bent
my thoughts turn to murder of her and of them
and of everyone under this piss-blackened sun
where the buck is the rule and we credit its tune
pied piper did well with the children…
It’s noon
and that’s enough
the dog’s barking back in a huff
and I can’t twist a thought round the scales
or whatever it is they’re trying to play
I’m off
but sure I’ll write a verse about it
one day
A Trip at the Dentist
A worm from the radio crawls in my ear
Why does the dentist evoke this fear?
As if the drill isn’t enough
I’ve to suffer the spiel of some mutt in the air
in between admonitions to floss
the dross of those with nothing to think
the sonic stink of gossip gone bad
from a second hand man playing the lad
No I don’t give a fuck really, I’ll floss
I’ll floss ’til my ass falls off
if you’ll close it down
but all that comes out of this clown
is a murmur of assent
sandwich of gritted molars
message unsent
Doctor, doctor, what’s the cure?
For rampant memes bent to skewer
any diversion from the too-trodden path
a mental map drawn by fools
cartographers bent on following rules
imaginations assassins, colonising brutes
They get paid for this shit, some clones in suits
Enough! Go on and flatten the earth,
Do as you will
but I won’t partake
I feel a bit ill
got to run, ‘fraid you can’t help
Off the chair
take the stares
from the dry coats in the noise-wet air
But, sir…
Gone in an ad break
leave in a blur
remembering to floss
Will it fit in my ear?
The Death of Santa Claus
There’s this mad fart of a man blown over on the side of the road
A dead Santa Claus
A litter of sky petals rise from his eyes
Every hole in his face begs return to the pole
But no hope but to sweat and wither and retch
an old bitch, age-brown, all peed out with a fish’s mouth the blank heir to pity turned away
Exists just about, but without Rudolph and after the fall what’s left but a sack, not even a toy
and no-one to speak of
(Of silence, the word glows darkly on your tongue
You’ll let it burn to the bone rather than open your mouth
I’ll trade you a snowman for a fool this night
I’ll buy you some whiskey if you put up a fight
But don’t ask me to speak
You don’t have that clout)
Sell me a story of chimneys and roofs
I could do with some pudding to grease the roots
The trucks don’t like me
That’s why they blow
The cars just stare like I’ve been let out
Will I stand here all night and watch him dim?
The fish will drown of his dry skin
Santa, you mug, you gave it all away
prancing around as if nothing was wrong.
Waiting for an elf to spike your think
Magic’s for no-hopers, you should have known
You can die of the cold
In the arms of the warm
Emergency Call
Lost my mojo there in a sec
out the back with all of the dreck
How’d all this take its place?
Gatecrash party in my head
wired up wrong, my fuse is dead
kissing in the dark, banging the cake
if I could find my way through the orgy to the phone…
Emergency call
That’s the way isn’t it?
you let the little shits get a grip
another slip, anger bit
before you know it you’re host to its clan
hordes of hormones make the man
and the beast, at least for now
I’d rather lay low, ’til it’s run its course
and not over innocents
Let it croak
Of its own accord
’til someone switches me back on.
Synaptic Scream
Hungry neural networks starving for a fix
pricks of synapse shooters think they’ve got me nixed
Do our jig or taste the whip, you’re rigged
give it up, it’s our gig, you’re our meat
meet your maker
You’re free remember
but this is what you get
the price of choice, a storm in your head
sit it out or feed the noise
But that’s not all, it’s all set up
the gods are pervs enjoying the show
the tortures planned in meeting rooms
where friendly hands shake over runes
a brand, a fad, an image, a sound
spells conjured up to take us down
addictions a bitch off the leash set loose
The mantras clear: You’re free to choose!
(to be bitten or chased, from every screen and every street every poster and every line
and if you don’t like it
go live in a rock
’til they come there too to knock:
Wassamatter, doc?)
No, this dog can’t be let prowl
time to take back what’s ours and howl it down
this is a battle for public space
laced as it is with poisoned dreams
illusions, confusions, and synaptic screams
take up the baton and make the charge
nothing to lose but the storms and their gods.
The Warbler
A hiccup of a man
Bananas would blush to be counted his kin
Voice like a warbler minus tune
Knock him out with a bum’s rush
Hush now, he’s on his back
babbling crook needs a hack
start him on Christ that’ll rev him up
give him a gun and his holy book
a platform, a hook, faux gravitas
a few bucks from the bosses with their hands up his ass
choreographed scenes, new world bright and clean
keep it simple, keep it obscene
Suit black
slick back,
look at that glow
lines down
ready set go:
Immigrants out, climate denial
poor in their place, send them to jail
love God, dig it up
taxes down
jobs, jobs
work you clown
Jesus, JESUS
China cons
war, terror, Islam, bombs
TV
TV
TV
You were lost, now you’re found
eat the screen
It’s the ground
of all that’s pure
Now we’re there
white teeth, white eyes
he’s grinning your applause
into life
We have bullshit lift-off to the planet nut
And the warbling suit is riding shot
—- EKM PORTAL TO AN ODE TO A SLOGAN —-
—- PRIMARY CONSTELLATION —-
The School Director
Now, how can I help you?
I pause
Not the ugliness of features, the cause, but how expressed,
the sullen dulling drag on cheeks, eyes parched pellets empty of all
make-up and perfume bear the false glow
dressed-up voice reverse of a drawl
clipped chirpy tape on auto unpolluted by thought
she’s been here a million times
it’s ground-hog day for that wart
or mole that jiggles as she tweets:
The policy here is…
Of course you understand…
I’m afraid it’s just not…
And you wonder how the ignorant climb
who gives them their hooks, their picks to swing
not that she’s naive this thing
blabbering in front of me like we’re both insane
no, she knows the game
the empty word tires out
drains from all the will to stay
to argue, to reason out
Maybe I should answer in a language made up
break the pattern of to and fro
drag her from her stoop to the wild angry road:
Barracuda, lemon, toad?
But I don’t
My glare says enough
and she stumbles and stalls…
Are you… Are you OK, Mr B…?
Glass of Wah…
Don’t need the next syllable
not a second more on this chair
Up and out from the warthog’s lair
I’m sure she stared
Maybe shrugged
Scratched her mole
Adjusted her stool
Readied a smile for the next hopeless fool.
Planet of Rhythm and Rhyme
Give me a world of eccentrics, alien to the dead word
a planet of rhythm and rhyme
let us chime these bells, cast our spells
and blow these trenches skyward.
Yes, we’re at war, don’t you know?
Open your mouth and all unspoke
dies with the rest of the might-have-beens
The past jives not with plays unmade
boils unlanced, the bon mot waylaid
Stop a while, give it a rest
that’s the test
there’s no law says speak every thought
those guns needn’t fire to meet the onslaught
slooow down, the bullets call for blood
but donate not, let them stutter on unmet
you’re loading up for better than that
Give us the word, our daily bread, it’s for eating not throwing unless the aim is true, it’s for
being who
making who
you create
the you
balanced in this state, the centred eccentric leaves the pew
Yes, give me that world of rhythm and rhyme
chime the sacred bells
speak the holy spells
and blow these trenches skyward
Deuce
And back I serve it, The caustic burn
a spray of acid from the gut spat up
In his face, a taste of his rot
But then what good? my better-half thinks
spreading the stink without a mask
weight on my stomach like a sackful of puss
Where did it start? Does it matter at all?
The swing came my way and I gave it a putsch
The boy ate the man
we both got cramps
both on our backs awaiting a flip
a pair of roaches minus the joints
beggars in the gutter who smashed the hooch
We might as well shake, the trench is full
We might as well smile, the territory’s new
A fool and his shadow
A maid and her cow
Next time you eat alone my son.
That is it now
If only you knew
If only you knew
ah, the phrase is trite
but trite can be trifle if it’s served right
a meal for two, you whipped it up
for the starving man glimmering below
far down in the cellar there
through cracks where he’d fell
he was that thin
Sneak back in through the keyhole then!
says your grin
But even a ray could melt him out
nothing here, he’d turn away:
Can’t eat your light ‘nymore than the webs
drips from the pipe do for my dregs
the corner there not even a straw
but it’s fine for me, l’ll tough it out
Light up there. Ha!
Only shows how little’s about
That’s how it goes
Until it doesn’t
Be a nice rest
But
What’s the rest?
If they block the keyhole up and and all’s forgot?
A black hole and you know they crush
Forget the tales, there’s no romance
no alt universe
no after dinner dance
no speeches, no balls, no…
A little panic’s good for the heart
a shot or two, a bang at the door
isn’t that how all good revolutions start?
Forget the trifle! Hand me a stake!
Vlad’s got my back up!
I owe him a wake!
So I do a wake and there you are
smelling salts in the open air
Bed on a beach, the sea’s a nurse
gulls a-flight, a-squawk
geeeeetahhhp…
If only you knew