Unconscious bias

Under there
You learn
Not to care
Not to be fair
To stare
With unconscious bias

Your eyes
Deep down
You repeat the lies
Of unconscious bias

You put me
On your hit list
You grab me
In your stone fist
But when asked
You don’t know why

You take away
My identity
You demonize me
You make me pay
With your
Unconscious bias

Cancel culture

It’s become the norm
It’s a brain worm
Called cancel culture

Take your judgement seat
In the courtroom of the tweet
It’s a new kind of vulture
Called cancel culture

From neighbour in the street
To critic of the police
If you say what you feel
And your friend disagrees
You will get cancelled out
No one cares what its about
It spreads like a fire
It transmits from it holy spire
It cancel culture

A prejudice
Is easy to spread
When you use
The internet
Judge not me
But judge yourself
Care about
What comes out your mouth
That it isn’t
Cancel culture

Born too late

After the feast was over
When the boulders had crashed onto the table
And the birds came out to eat the crumbs
And the snake coiled itself up to sleep
And the rebuilding work was underway
And the naked bodies hung in the sky like rain
And the blood of the meat was splashed like graffiti on the wall
And the wine could not find another vein
And all the hero’s had left their seats and gone their separate ways
And the dust settled right up to the roof
And we wandered about the sand with only the myth
And we looked for the gate that was gone
And we searched for the table that was sawdust
And hope took us into the wilderness like starving sheep
And the signs pointed to a storm out at sea
And darkness finally covered over our bones
And the epitaphs on our tombs read – born too late

once again I was thinking about the decade of the 1960’z when we were overloaded with a cultural feast, up to today, when it’s obvious that it’s gone for good now.

The hour of eternity

The clouds rain down
On the root
Ending their journey
Along the rainbow road

People are getting ready
To leave
Unpacking their raincoats
From their pockets

Suddenly, zo suddenly
The sun is shining
In every pool

Wild flowers
Open up to the sky
This is the hour
Of eternity

this started With a what if idea about the the cloud/rain cycle

His Cold air

His air spreads out
Fast like in an explosion
Then you hear the sound
His spirit explodes in anger
And you can feel the blast
Of cold air rush past you
So strong is his outburst
That it shocks the air
And it feels cold like a ghost
And you know
That a second later
The chill will touch your very heart

sometimes I feel I can sense when someone is going to be angry

A poet writes

A poet writes
His mature poetry

After the world has imposed
Its rules on him

the rules are the academic rules


They told me
It was time
And that time
Never ended
But someone had to be there
To turn the hourglass over

And zo I turned it over
And watched the quicksand draining

Slipping, caught by gravity
Ending full and ready
To start again
The journey
That it had lived
Zo many times before

Tired of the hourglass
I left it in its stable
In the stillness of the light that shines
Beside the rocking ocean

To the sea of images

To the sea of images
That unlock the pain of love
I made my way
In the darkness
With my eyes like searchlights

At the fortress of images
I stood wearing black feathers
An obsolete orphan
With an anvil for a heart
And words as dead as frogs

The image began to attack me
Like cannon shot through glass
As I fell into a hypnotized sleep

And there in a cave
Dressed as wolves
My parents were prowling
Blind with anger
Hungry for vengeance

Then the sea was gone

the system of youth

the system of youth
Is frost between layers of time
It is called upon
To carry the world upon its’ back
It is expected to answer
To the man in black leather in the Norman tower
with blood and tears
with sacrifice

The system of youth
Is a green velvet wheel
Turned by a river of Iranian oil
Turned by a river of liquid sugar
Always it is traded for goods
Goods for blood

The system of youth
Now I see it
Like a Ferris wheel turning
In the ice of tomorrows tragedy
Leaving its parents
Broken and confused

The veteran

The veteran
was speaking
Of the war

He would
do it all again
as before

if only
you would
love him more

with his hand
he would
part the wheat
in the field

with his heart
he would part
the eyesight
in the sky

with his strength
he would move
the mountains
in the east

with his courage
he would nourish
the frightened
and the least

he’s not the kind
to let you down
he’ll die before
the wind
has finished

then he
took up his cue
and potted a ball
as easy as that
he gives his all

it’s in the call
it’s all
in the calling