Push aside the terror of things to be done;They were deceivers, ever. They catch at you without context,Claiming territoryWithout treatyOn Sacred ground. Push aside the terror of things callingClamouring from the four cornersClaiming the floor Where He had brought you to danceTo laugh, To sing, With Him Alone. But the things trip youThey know that…
In a cafeYou can be lighthearted About the tragedies of the world. Because you’ve come home And in the soul placeEveryone’s done OKEnough And the struggle, for nowIs over. You’re in the boat. You smile at a fellow conspiratorAt a nearby table But not for longBecause you mustn’t let on:We’re all happy here!No one must…
Maybe it wasn’t accidentallyI left my laptop at the counterBefore entering the cafe. Like taking ones shoes off before entering the mosqueOr hanging your coat at the door,A cafe requires divestment. Here, only soul tools should be utilised. Papyrus is permissible;Those evocative pieces of Nile-soaked Cyperus, that we learnt about at school By dint of…
I love the way her boots increase her rhyme.The rhythm of her smile draws from the suede,A softer line, a bluer gleam of thymeThe crushing aromatically persuades. The scarf, a flash of Gokian genius, flares.The outward-facing light delights the crowd.The trinket, primed for purpose, richly sharesA treasure that is tenderly allowed. But how does pleasing…
Robotica was dynamite. With moletronic* grace,She far exceeded anythingConceived by the human race. She shimmered free in 40D In the planes between dimensions. She fed and fusedTeased and amusedYour higher apprehensions. Designed by generations of her cyber-kindred kind,She was a neural interfaceWithin your higher mind. A digi-spiritual uploadShe had the power to cruiseBeyond the mirage…
Those who reflect on idealisationsInspite of themselvesCommitBrutalisations But JonahConsummed in the guts of the whaleFound guts of his ownWhen spewed outSmall and pale And staggered But firmOn the ground he could feelFound GodThough in heavenOn earthIs blood real. Sarah de Nordwall April 14th 1996
All that’s wild and wonderful Is coming to me through electronic media I met you over an ISDN line having found your website on New funky poetry for the massesAnd your verses are full of the anguish of theLonging heart of IT support techies. That’s youThat’s meThat’s the boy on the CD That I play…
Part OneCitizens of the SimulacrumWhy have you deserted the Mother ship?Has she not nurtured you at her bureaucratic table?Has she not erected her seven corporate valuesAnd slaughtered the competition? Has she not called to you,The unsuccessful,To come and learn, from her, how to be winners? Citizens of the simulacrum, rejoiceYou have no longer blood in…
In order to achieve escape velocityI reduced my speed to zero. It didn’t take long;No time at allPlus 20 years of dithering about When suddenly, when I slowed downAnd all the buildings, cars and pseudo-opportunities sped upI stood still in the searing silent blurAnd all of it was gone. Miraculously fallen into sheer irrelevanceAnd all…
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