TO
those
who walked
in rotten shoes
clenching wild flowers
writing wet dreams
reading in naked flesh
screaming at lost windows
damning despots with eyeballs
grabbing peeresses
with which there was only one chance
moments meant to last
seconds or years
timely
abstraction
of
love ideas
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FROM
I
whatever and whoever I am.
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Allen
if
America
had given you
what you wanted
you wouldn’t
have been who you were.
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a ridiculous saying
I
know how you feel.
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i am not i
i
am not i
i am an incumbent of emptiness
i am all dead poets reincarnated
i
will not name you
with admiration
micheline
baudelaire
rimbaud
you will not resonate within me
i am free of you
i
clang
in my vessel
i chant
to my respected disease
i
am all poets
soaked and drawn out
sunken and elevated
disgraced and damned
bulbous and glowing
i
am stuck in my locality
i am stuck in my confessional mode
i am stuck in my ragged mangled prose
i am free
i am just guilty and ashamed
of my freedom
as i must be damned or loved
revered and endorsed
to be a real poet
i
am all before me
your arguments and discrepancies
i am not i
i am my own speech
i
am guided by pedants
of paperback life
but i embrace street seraphs
without schooled ideas
but gob induced
pavement know how
and sore eyes
from night till dawn jaunts
i
am a conglomeration
of past senses
without sense of place
i am a trouncer
of the prescribed mind
i am replacing it
for one less foreign to mine
i
will not love you
micheline
baudelaire
rimbaud
as your words
are your reality pies
but less captivating
than the kitchens
where you cooked them
and the matches you used
to spark your fires
i
am a cauldron
of cerebral sickness
i
am a cauldron of i
i am nothing
i am not i.
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Billy
taught me
I
was taught tenderness by Billy from Maine.
Billy
is a young kid.
He
taught me to accept
idiosyncrasy
fallibility
and
weakness
in myself and others.
And
in some ways
he taught me love.
Such
a young kid
but with the fluttering mind
of an insatiable visionary.
He
made some old people
I know
seem like lost
babies sifting
through the dust
between their ears.
Billy
fifteen
taught me that
old age doesn’t denote wisdom
just the passing
of time.
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burnt crow
at
window again
watching a squawking crow
(a symbol of nuisance)
climb down a chimney –
time for a fire!
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the quandary of art
self
imposition
for sake of self
self exposure
for acceptance of self.
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
the truth about actors
you
know you’re watching
a good actor
when you don’t care
that they are being fake.
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dust
when
you think to the depths
you reduce yourself to zero
and the world comes with you
anything is possible
and nothing is granted
which is why my friend
i am not anti war
or pro war
political or unengaged
left or right
strong or weak
i am poised in my unknowingness
i am the dust in the
core of the compass.
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Love
is
quite
a
lot
of
things.
some people suck the life out of you and then you escape
them and life becomes good again
last
night i met
a character
or an empty vessel
a spys
posing as a character
he was dullness
personified
today
i yawned
and had a glimpse
of what it might
be like
to be him.
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cowls
and twats
he
studied philosophy
which he thought
made him
philosophical
he said Nietzsche
was a Nazi
which meant
he had learnt
fuck all
he questioned everyone
but himself
he read Kant
yet he wasn’t enlightened
he was a Kunt
he thought no one
read the world
but even the table
and windows
were bored
reading him
he thought he was wise
but he was too blind
to realise he was despised
he had no grasp
of his surroundings
just his own mind
in his surroundings
he was a self-elevated intellectual
he was an unendurable fool
this
twat
the higher he thinks
he is going to rise
the longer the fall will be
when a piece of brilliance
brings him down from the clouds
and throws him into
a pit of harsh reality.
