Midsummer Renaissance

Poor is the morale of the visitor who eats
Porridge close besides the ridges in the Grand Canyon.
They may be in his heart,
He may have walked a lonely imagination to his home from it
But is the food worth being taken?
The talent is now in the hands of the beholder
The gold residue is apologized for
It was meant by blessed bleedin’ intent
The frogs the vision the Pharaoh.

A locus of the mind’s  eye,
A sewer rat caught on
Sing a song… as you can.
Did _ crimes of passion?
Fashion of Women of Mass Dicks.
Ask again and I’ll end the pain
[        ] the alpha and omega strain.
It’s not the same without you,
Where’s HaitiGlobalised.Com? Investment in Kali 4 Never Cajun
Cages @ California is not my home!

Now stay there.
Cages and soul.
There is no point arresting a toad
Who wanders from his hall drunken
He will not live like a sparrow on a tree branch
And thanks no-one for the noon of Midsummer Renaissance.

New Day

Ghostly shadows chase me down the alley way of my dreams
Appearing and disappearing in the fraction of a second
The half-remembered faces of undergraduate days
Self-reflection and awareness all rolled up into one.
The trembling vibration of the frequency of my brain
Mirrored in the corridors of knowing in my mind
Promises of perfection and tabletop lunches
I am undone in the failure of my forties
In the presence of such alumni and esteemed gentlemen.
When will I get a chance to succeed again?

When will it be my turn at the alter?
There cannot be so many bad days ahead of me
Lost to the unfolding fracas of frenzied want and desire
A familiar forlorn lust for more and more in the tiredness
Of my turned over plans from yesterday.
The safest place to live in regret
Where the bets are stable and the winnings are to others
Those who prophesied my downfall and saw it coming
Like the antichrist of ambition clamouring always for more.

Sure to be the second place loser in the rally of competition
And without coffee mates for dates, I am expectant of more failure
Until the rescuer comes and the infinity of the universe is known
Fortune over favour for the freshest scent of a new day.

Land Tract

There’s a secret that I share with those who come near
About a land tract and agreement with someone very dear
It is my little cat and his predatory prowling
That keeps away the foxes and all that howling.
We compartmentalise our land and take it in turns
To find a way to get about our daily grind and burns
Finding it useful to see each other’s itinerary
Safe from the dispatch box of letting off a litany
Of abuse and neglect about the way things should be
Aside from green like the garden grass and the various shrubbery
He likes his corners and keeps to his edges
I just want to fix those holes in my collective hedges.
I take time to water the plants that he tramples
And cut the lawn so sharply when he is away collecting samples
Of other people’s gardens and how they let him sleep
Until he needs his food and comes home to collect his keep.
This predator marks his land and sits on the top of the steps
Lest we ever forget to keep things the way he left them
But in the end we agree and make time for a kiss and a cuddle
Should we ever find our cohabitation turn into confusion and a muddle.

It Makes Me Look Back

It makes me look back
The track record of vinyl Birmingham
The lessons from school and skipped songs
Veritable fashions in rationed book cupboards
I don’t know what to see
All that music is about me
The times I listened the times I tried
Some of it even reminded me of when I cried.
TDK cassettes and a hairy CD Walkman
Items for the rarity shelf today if ever there was one
Unicorns of delight and sea nymphs of error
All sorts of enjoyment when the music was high school terror.

Yogaville

Wall St crash test dummies
Yoga is for yummy mummies
Balancing the towering pose
Concentrating on the tip of your nose.

Chai and obsolete oat bar allowance
Top marks for managing stomach’s gestation
Acid and mood(s) imbalance
Rolling prices, roaming charges
The first class is free for the sleazy man next to me:
Celebrity mandalas, sale of the century
Causes and effects
Stretch please, we’re British
Get yourself going at the gym
We mean you no harm
This might be the Holy Ghost v The Dharma
@BeYourself.Com
Celebrated trance, techno dance

Virtual Yogi
Personal Jesus
Stretching on the mat
Something for the 3 of us
Family is down
There are State Laws
So he impressed upon me
Shaolin Tree
City of lights
So many fights
Corporate laws
Showing my flaws
Mothers and fathers
The technology goes farther
To stretch to the valley
Of Ambe and Krishna-Ji.

Downward facing dog pose
Blow a hole through Jonah’s whale
What time to exhale?
Take some milk and cinnamon
Have a good bath
ENJOY your night’s sleep
You’re free from Kali’s wretched wrath
{Buddhas v Devis}
Modernising that which is unsure
Generations of love at your door.

The Nothing Brigade

Scene reflected
Want defected
Hatred refracted
Lately will become de-compacted.
The original thinker
It is for //
Love!
A remainder girl.
 
Hollow halls knew your latent fame
They remember my name
Did you think I would blink?
my (new) day,
untimely fashionable poem
Far sooner
intense open corpse like 51 courses in a landfill site library
Boots and all.
Looking for a drainpipe despite campaigning for nations
Somewhere to pout about
Looking for business for last week’s door knockers.

An empty teacup in the window invites tearful visions
Imagist and surrealist combination messaging
No more telly tubing about the leaves of harassed and at home
This is the door number for you to leave the past rejections alone.


The Night of the Examined Blessings

Throughout the night of examined blessings
A great being of stressful un-dressings
Wanted to know how I could be Enlightened?…
Given the prosaic stage of living frightened.

Lamenting essences of the envisioned joinery
Assaulting my senses with the medicine
Intelligently designed to question my bravery
Shaky roots, colonial carpentry and foundations weak at the knees.

I wandered lonely as a desperate quilt looking for the maker,
Shopping on my own esteem for bed mates in magazines
Nothing was for me in the violence of the armoury
Unacceptable hemisphere of hate.

Forthright likes and dislikes of confused and confounded foremost thwarting
Latent interest in unknown life
For the bumbling counties of country bumpkins,
Who is whom enthroned on the Thames?

Thanes swirl in cupboards feasting on Chinese cutlery
The European has no tea to trade while the bread and toast is buttered.
Anglo-South American reminisces the night sky with his women and wine,
The African descends a plane of ethereal misdemeanours unimagined consciousness.

Bliss is then my daily remains known by butlers and bootmen
Escaping famed name knowledgeable on London’s streets.
Copper is meeting aluminium with the beat of heavy shoes from laden houses
Hard won are forthcoming days of employed use before white halls and brown wooden floors.

Memory is fathomed by the wise ones up above
Naïve people distance themselves from the experienced:
Thus it was given to India to threaten the business
Of those so sure of second witness and surprise.

True questions beyond name and form
Away from I-Slam poetry and SAWM;
Mastery was survival and kinship was about-turn
I am a vagabond craving eternity staring at my mother’s Urn.

Listless death marches and trolled press
The internet spanned The Golden Age.
Cities earned pages of faraway entreaty
so that Mary could know beauty.

The closed gait, the horse’s mate, the chivalry at the corner’s quarter
God has not yet absolved the Buddha for sins of sons and daughters.

  1. To be a Quest
  2. To ask the Question about what a human is

Temporal lines created Stratford
There is a stealth.
Ninjas ghostly guard the gates of The British Museum.

These are The Guardian times
These are The Telegraph lines
These are The Times finesse
Who updates Page 3’s dress?
For if there is a Daily Mail…
What is hatred if you are still able?
Yogi, Balti and also a sheesha –
Life beyond shallowness in pale water
Diviners settled the land for some plans controlling language
Speak to me boldly, like Kirk or Spock
Before you afront a weakened Ronin
Seeing a Samurai like a ghostly frock.

These are the Bardos of time
These are the reminders of great souls
These are the fashions of the noble light
These are the last times of Christ.

Travel widely, then, dear friend and make polite national amends
Settle some settee time with arrogant wine
See through the looking glass of neo-Liberal advances on the telly of the past gnashers and teeth
In the heaven beneath the feet of shouldered giants
Who kept self-help quiet.

Who kept self-help quiet?

(2023)

Carnegie was not the Speak Easy and the come on was not so free as the advantage stamp served for the delicious mountain range and army reserves…
Do you want to fight forever?
Or can time cease to be clever?
For an anthropomorphic world will miss the consciousness of Brahman with its boys and girls.

(Numbers, Dollars and $) – Do that again
After Zen and 8 o’ clock
What is the point of blocking my cock?
Tick Tock, Tik Tok
Sell me a brand and stay more manned
For the Hare Krishna planned for the Indian Shopping Mall


—————————————————————————————————————-

4. The Noble Eightfold Path leads to Nirvana

>John F. Buddha Airport<

If that’s the greatest Creator
Keep it Mother Africa
Then centuries from now Afghanistan
Can blow up something big.

The Chagrin Church

Stark wooden interior corners
Examples of a stony coarse exterior
Neglected by traffic light affinity
Differences of apples
Muttering congregations dialogue
Vengeance before eating
Mature marriages motherly mould over misty cloudy longings for children’s breakfasts
Fathomable knowledge about the quintessence of dust
Young quotes,
Healing waters of garden ponds
The effortless shiny Sunday cut lawn –
We all strive to deal with life
And out of all of us is tomorrow’s hope.
Mottos survive word salad and alphabet spaghetti
So far so good on giving as good as you get.
Nobility, algebra and the rude calculator that spits back the remonstrations of modernity
“Why isn’t a phone good enough for me?”
It reviles the stability of irregular repetition
Imperceptible passing
Mothers and fathers splice
Lost words
Seconding dirty thieves
Monday morning’s walking stick.
#Mankind’s seriousness about words
A hoarded mention
A boarded up tension
A cold dark wooded estate by a bragging brook
Sullen berated lungs
Smoking too long
Snowy imbalance of impatient teacups
Watery indigestion not for my saucers
Ounces and the metric system
Condescension’s caste and credence.
Tanks too readily perceptible
Cloudy army solves the waiting list
Galactic times tables require
Solar astrology’s universal flair
Singular lunar unrepeatable glory
Feeling affairs of unsingle women
bored of frustration’s depth in the mingling of a week’s aftermath
~ (the disruption around me)
The heard sounding off of all that is around
Emanated quality of a nosey hawk that won’t leave the
Speaking alone to the tree soldier
Forbidden fruit to the disordered dossier.
Disclosed attacks on order, numeracy and polar bears
Revealed cupcake positions of private narratives
Open to elevation like a Birch tree heaving for trimming
Crowded notes of like winds
Imminent celebration falling everywhere
Crimson mistakes on clippings
Dominions remaining.
The computer is the hero next week
Mixing mysteries
Inner words
One more of me to know others
Who can defend the weak but time?

The Bonfire of the Logicians

Vulnerable
Under the table
Over and out
The child gangs are about.
Bonfires of legislators
Sufis of sweet sounds
Vibrations
Improved damages
London has carriages
Sounds of the nation
The old Vikings
The new televisions
Visions & visionaries
Drugs cartels
Newsletters with spells
The police that chase people down
The daily bugle with more noise around town.
The grandfather that frowns
PMQs and furious speeches
As far as the worries reach.
All is one and too much
Nice touch
Kick ball and bollocks all
Connection : ->
Phalluses and erections
Architecture
Geopolitical protections
How can this be when both sides are heard
Only when the nation offers offices without the herd.

Sort it Out

Sort it out, you gyppo
And get off my land
There are things in this place
That you don’t understand.

There is a fire where it belongs
For the furnace of understanding
And a legacy from the Land Registry
About how it deals with the King’s standing.

Those angels that support you
Also look over and watch me,
So keep your Backstreet Boys on reply
In case there is enough business here for three.

For it seems you think you’re God the Father
The way you’ve divvyed the land up so fair,
Then what about Mary and the water
For those baptisms over there!

Do you think they should take place on Saturday
When the farmers come to town?
Or is it repression of my sexual urges
In case I keep prices on Sunday trading down?

If that is so, then keep your pocket book
My trade is some private affair:
You won’t find me dealing with terrorists
As you make your internet self-aware.

Keep some of that tax aside for me after vaccinations
In case I want to play some upper-class chief
And save my children’s’ nation.
There are not too many places to go

The pubs have shut down and the clubs are quiet;
That’s just as well as I’ve ‘been there and done that’,

But in the middle we’ll meet and make it a Liberal affair
So the Labour can know Conservative
How do you like that for stealth and my social diet?
For these Culture Tsars walking around everywhere.

For Birmingham is to tomorrow what the Black Country was to the past
A case for royal caskets and cheese and a blast for legal cases at last.
Measure me this or measure me that, the time now set for oneness is here
And those cafes and restaurants need impressive food for me to have a beer.

I would like to add, sir, that I think the town
Needs less to centre it properly
But if you need to build some more and get down
Try not to do it on top of me!

And with that the perambulator crossed the road
Leaving Harborne on Saturday to mixed delights
Writing one more poem from his mental groans
Wishing the finality to some of those political fights.

Labour will be by, soon, and it is time for some facts
Reinvention of the wheel from those barbecues and some culture tax.