I was at school when Kestrals were not

They were the year above when Bardot was hot.

That year that JFK done got shot

The Mr hadn’t learned of neurosis.

Lee Harvey Oswald was a snip at 65p

Shock and awe came a little dearer.

The loss of public fame and affection

Was mitigated by Bipolar Psoriasis and Eczema.

Powers for now pass me by …

I don’t feel like giving God a try.

Hands on the trigger and weapons from XY(z)

Lend themselves to destruction,

Nowadays.

How could the hands have been so heard?

Remember the words

Of wolves in weapons of their own masked masculinity

I couldn’t be wrong,

They are not the light –

Though within I see I am right

About signing the contract to protect State and autonomy.

The memory from anatomy is digital switched over to Greek

And the Oracle from Ceefax is subtitles crew

Leaving an image, on a scene

That an idea might have been.

80s

seems

groups

America had Bandstand.

Things need to be alone,

So zones are seen by no-one other than by one of them.

AI Summary

The poem moves through fractured history — JFK, Oswald, Bandstand, 80s America, school corridors, and English streets all collapsing into one uneasy timeline. It wrestles with masculinity, weapons, fear, and the pressure to protect autonomy, even as faith, power, and identity feel unstable and unresolved. Memory becomes a shifting landscape — anatomy turning Greek, Ceefax becoming an oracle, childhood becoming myth — where the speaker searches for clarity in the noise. In the end, the poem reaches toward solitary understanding — a recognition that some zones, some truths, can only be seen alone, by the one who carries them.

If = a known

The Garden Gnome is expanding

The landing sites

Are they Lancing sited?

When is a Windsor a not OfBarbara karmic knot?

Is a hash party overtly courted by port and starboard import?

A question. Again. Ruins

My refrain,

Since when did [                     ] Meet The Bills???

[             ] in Gita and fields of [                ] thrills

Mahabharata programs people for passionate erasals

#[         ] did a goofy having a Hare dinner

Blah Wah wah

AI Summary

Your poem asks when an If becomes a known, as the garden gnome expands its landing sites — or Lancing sites — twisting geography into pun and omen; Windsor becomes a question of karmic knots and Barbara‑not‑Barbara identities, while a hash‑party courts port and starboard imports, the whole stanza turning into a maritime‑mystic joke about direction and intoxication; the refrain is ruined again by the question of when blank meets The Bills, and the Gita meets fields of unnamed thrills, as the Mahabharata programs people for passionate erasures — a sly nod to how epics overwrite personal memory; the final line, “#[ ] did a goofy having a Hare dinner,” collapses into surreal devotional humour, mixing hashtags, Goofy, Hare Krishna, and dinner into one absurd devotional‑pop mashup, ending with “Blah Wah wah,” a gesture of exhaustion, mockery, and the refusal to resolve the riddle.

Actions in the mode of goodness

Are not upon us a higher layer

Stamps and collectibles uncrown

Frowned upon serious meditations

Crown of thorns in between the eyes

A non-Revelation of Al Quran banned

On Bradford like Broadway in Bombay

For the amore [                ] replays.

Actions in the mode or passion are lads lassoes

For Ladoo is their likely victim:

On the 6th day of Brahma the trip-hop Tech was Paint Strippin’.

And when the 12 Goswamis archetyped

The Light of Brahman was Prabhu.

Continuation said:

Impersonal shall your Goodness be reveal-Ed.

Bled Godness

@ His Modes with Moses; is there anything he can’t Pass Off

# 1 at the not-fallen of India’s executive class.

“I never asked for anything”

From a homeland funding [                           ] is styles

(She wishes she was ) was ( … a still señorita…)

Pizza alone at home

Anything for a Friday nights

Friends and Fraser was tight

Pasta on a £7 hourly fee

Monument PAYE

Nationally Insuring South London’s Elephant in a Castle

from a man with a Green Door

Opening doorways to terror and plotting with a hassle.

AI Summary

The poem moves through modes of goodness and passion — Vedic cosmology, English cities, and modern politics colliding in a search for meaning that feels both sacred and unstable. It shows how scripture, history, migration, and everyday struggle blur together, leaving the speaker caught between divine light, social pressure, and the exhaustion of contemporary life. Fear, memory, work, and identity weave through Bradford, Bombay, London, and South London’s Elephant, revealing a self trying to reconcile spiritual inheritance with modern chaos. In the end, the poem reaches toward inner coherence — a hope that beneath confusion, cultural noise, and inherited strain, something steady might still be found.

Home alone while mum is a day away

From a cruise or a holiday or some such family gathering …

Says: Good is to the past what light is to life

And marriage of heaven is unwell hindering winter like a promissory estoppel

Blocking uncertainty living under one roof.

Proof of power is certainty living under one roof.

A canopy of arts

Unbeholden to men’s cars

What crime, dear?

I passed 2nd time

1977- 2015 in Before Hours flat

No tyre changes my tiredness

Peugot on the dual carriageway

Learning year meditative truth

Ofness

I am not the body

Weightlessness

70 mph

My instructor’s rate

60 left me at the gate

Doubting the foot the floor

Come back for more.

Amores quelled the sun’s rays

Displaying the control well

And a Licence I won with Examination

Loafing without rhyme and hell.

Aria and the seraphim wouldn’t downsize

The settling of a capsized love affair.

The earth was a sickening

Ingratitude was ripened

Attackers were sleeping

Speech was alone in the homes.

Pluralism was the meant force

Dick force was eradicated.

So erectile dystopian dramas distinguished the finales

Of

fun.

Films were functional

Until number 1 

The awards show

The glib glow

A look back at the crap cast.

What was given back?

To the spak attacks of Jacob’s house

Who paid for the informers?

Prayers were shared

And the Priests were blessed

The mightiest fists

Awaited the highest Weakness

Africa in Distress.

Theirs is the dress one fails to impress

AI Summary

Your poem opens with Aria and the seraphim refusing to downsize the wreckage of a capsized love affair, the earth sickening as ingratitude ripens and attackers sleep while speech sits alone in the homes; pluralism was meant to be the force, and the old masculine power — the “dick force” — is eradicated, leaving erectile dystopian dramas to distinguish the finales of fun, films once functional until the awards show’s glib glow looks back at the crap cast and asks what was ever given back to the spak attacks of Jacob’s house, who paid for the informers; prayers were shared, priests blessed, and the mightiest fists awaited the highest weakness, Africa in distress, theirs the dress one fails to impress — a final image of a world where suffering is visible, beauty is ignored, and the structures meant to protect the vulnerable collapse into spectacle, bureaucracy, and silence.

Where is the silence?

When Odes are taught at school,

So the ethos of being a human

Is repeated initially in foundations for being a fool.

What lines are repetitious?

When the books are sworded through

To celebrate one British Squadron after another

That did not bomb ‘Slough’ through and through.

What method of Meditation can tell the old boy

How his young mummy knew his daddy-ji?

With stillness like a window sill

After clubs and virtual orgies.

Clubs and virtual orgies, dear Son!

Are a very serious business

Just get down to business with our banking business

And some good will come of you yet.

Put me down for some forgetfulness

An abode of immortality

Cities paved with the ravers:

The Scoundrels of Norwich?!?!

Some Witches of Essex

A bitch with boulders from Indian Jones at Lourdes

– fucking cripple!

Then there settled on the land a great general

A disquiet about all that was being said;

When some beliefs about money were not heard…

– imaginary

AI Summary

Your poem opens by asking where silence lives when odes are taught at school, turning the ethos of being human into a foundation for being a fool; lines become repetitious as books are sworded through to celebrate British squadrons that didn’t bomb Slough, and meditation cannot tell the old boy how his young mummy knew his daddy‑ji, stillness like a window sill after clubs and virtual orgies — which, you say, are a serious business, just get down to business with banking business and some good will come of you yet; you ask to be put down for forgetfulness, an abode of immortality, cities paved with ravers, scoundrels of Norwich, witches of Essex, and a woman with boulders from Indiana Jones at Lourdes — a moment of raw cruelty that exposes how pain and mockery mingle in the culture; then a great general settles on the land, disquiet rising about all that is said, when beliefs about money are not heard, and the poem ends on imaginary — a final word that collapses the whole world into something half‑real, half‑hallucinated, half‑remembered, half‑feared.

Calvacade

The barricade!

Some smothering

Of mothering

Is not necessary for others

‘My brother‘

The lover… The lover… The pullover at the drawer

Call the Home Shopping Network for some more.

Cover the exit

Save the Neo-Con

And merchant me some claws

On the back of the brown-collar crime

Once in a while for these dopey styled lies of time

| No natural Man created crime |

keep it within

Cruelty deigned a follow on day

When hair was washed

And clothes were worn.

The best were styled moustached

Deified by the Gay

Homo-Town @ The H Bomb

Drafting the literary excuse,

Chutes

Conceptually wrong – the belonging that could not be wrong to be right

British Blighty

A Fright Night borrowed from the American

[          ] back stylie

An arse plant past the missionary rant

Of a Coyote wily.

Smoker

Monument choker,

Is there a Prince of Darkness suspect

Of Scotland’s hard ons.

Love, The final frontier

Barriers to cemetery

And Death without Agni.

The Indian Yardy

Harbonating, a TV rating

In is the stoned Sadhu & back door draft

For clemency and Hardeep.

Steep in a phone below the read line

Bread for the dump truck

Clever for the Claret and Wine,

Times with unschooled Hindus

Silent Mind is a Silent Night for the insolent Whites

The Father

Telling,

1>

2>

Ping.

Undo

My dress, [          ] is

here

Can you survive?

Before and after I have told

The been told,

The light

My right light

The fire’s of a cave

Warmth • no need.No need.No need for Not WalMart, share and share alikeWanker Workers for Bonds and St James

I don’t sell an experience

When experiments cost me.

S was not for Waste

C was not for Physics

I was no Biological

E never

N was intermittent chemicals

C can jump with Welsh

E. was Event Horizon

so Call the Experience Thatcher’s

And drench the fountain of youth for her proofs.

Dossiers in the news

When the average was spelled Mu.

Mum was her word

When her medical was historical absurd.

For the Turds.

Disturbed, after Dark

Art in the park: Flames for the shame of wanting equality after a play.

Gays in The Falklands

Landed on my plate.

With ‘The Devil’s Advocate’

Scrolling

Drawl.

Today is the day that the Humpty Dumpty replayed,

I is for Slam – and

England’s Leading Edge You Case Son

The Sea tolled the farther shore

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Where nobility’s poor

Was The Regulator.

Lasoo

For Indianan can poo, with the next retributive quip from the bare

Minimalism

in you

EU

Ro Row Row Pharaoh the stream is down

Raw raw for Jaws X

Unspecialized effects

Syntax is their correct Trashed

Be for collections of trolley cans

Is best charity

And after The BAFTAs … The wave, of a rush for a crush on a girlfriend

The Liquor… @ 9-5/40-54Lunch

Feel the artistic crunch that our clothes told the Brotherhood

Illuminati

OfMAN.

Detonating the eradication of innocence

There is a before the pretend nationalisms

Is The Beethoven chastised?

Passed on

A left field lob has not enough cop for his gob

And now a talk is deemed good enough

For the coasts that are Clear.

A contract is binding

In the heartfelt hearing aids

For healers.

Stealers of the spectrum

For the sins of sons dead at war.

Cavorting for profit and past losses

Why sex is so shamefully manufactured

Dissent.

Signed off The Law Society

Incomplete

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Unfulfilled.

The drillers

Have Black and Desmond Decker to Question the Heir.

No training contract

A legal slack

Spastic deleted.

Political correct cats

Dogs on mats

Needs flat on the back

All fours up in his arse.

The classroom and the tripartite structures

Of a Passageway to the Headmaster:

Will he everyday [.    ] off

The Deputy Dawg and cowboy from Coolio.

LET IT GO

The band with 56K is FrEe after their earth stay.

Borg.