Identity parade
Words that fade
Living in the shade
Timeless ageing
Traders paging
Hollowing out
So much to shout about
Getting on by
Easy for me to try
Life is motivated
Actions are gyrating
There is more to things than that
My dreams went “Splat!”
The spare time is always flat
I’m going nowhere fast
Hurt and betrayed
Cosmic displays
Turning up empty
Oh! Play with the Void.
time
Constellation Poem
Ben Wright the Chronicler,
Paul Ready the Actor,
Bryan Dick the Performer,
Amal Clooney the Advocate,
Rishi Sunak the Steward,
Robin Clark the Merchant,
Andrew Ornitharis the Producer,
All acquaintances by my side,
Guru Nanak the Guide,
Devi the Flame,
Wanderer the Father,
Unicorn the Brother –
Together they form my constellation,
Each a star in Albion’s sky.
I walk among them,
Not as seeker,
But as guru,
Bearing light through rupture,
Chanting renewal into England’s soil.
Species All
Sometimes it is like
Other times the ties come true
Then there is a monetary matter
So I can see right through you.
Mr All Ready, Stripes and some Black and Blue!
What about all that time spent sitting on your arse!
You should have been outside with the cars
And the men you seek to set aside again.
This is not for me and that is not for you
Three times 20 makes you an Israel Lobby crew
And I am not going down there for you
To rescue you rescuing me rescuing you…
… in the past, from Levant,
Where the ticket knows no stamp
And the Good Lord is proud
Of talking about Circumcisions from 1000s of years ago
… what a medical Bravado
When I want to go and watch the show
And he knows best about men and the rebirth of Time.
Some stowaway you seemed to become
Lost on the Ocean of Suffering like a beggar
Needing money so he talked to the empty chair
And found that nobody, not even Tony Robbins, stared.
“!I am! Alone! I said!” I said to my Online Computer Chair.
So What>! Fuck Off. Me too
That’s what it is to Sempa Phi the ol’ Red White and Blue
Then you will see that what is for me is also for you
Mr special Yogi with a career like a train wreck asking for more to do.
Pay Tree Ark
When the good debt was folded
And the sacred bird had flown
There was one who was Awake
Top of the hat to his own.
They called him Jeff and let him ride
So far to the other side
That the mentionables were kept afloat
By the shopping he did around the moat.
The moat they built in the past
When Canary Wharf was not going to last
Because his kind kindly sung to the Police
Of knowledge that left them fucking Analese,
[Remind me how to spell @ When his witches are in Hell]
, another one of his little fertile girls
Showing me the balance of Time
For the rhythm of a rhyme
And how to Hare Krishna power=share just fine.
Krishna is just fine, thanks for asking
Rama will be grateful for his Shabba Ranks, canal driven man
Down the Maine Street with the Wilberforce treats
Stuck in a traffic jam no matter what Lady Marmalade says next.
That’s EnlightenNext: Up and off there for some Techno=Fest
Costing the coasting Guru Nanak some Repo action
For all his fancy foot action
What was it? At the end of the day….
…
…
Sigh No More and Sai Baba is gone
What was the pleasure in losing his song.
One
Two
And not Zee
Maybe the Charmed twins got up to three?
Who was the Guru – who was the Pen?
When will the showtime get back to the Penitentiary
Internationally Amnesty International planned by me
To settle the nettles on the floor for more than £10.
Come down to laughing out loud
Om Shanti to the quoting men
Speak to batallions raised from the streets
Chant wildly of Ken Wilber eating out Chinese food whenever his old age
Walks
Talks
On all fours
The Missing Link
Guru & some smelly pink socks on The Big Think
Call me a PhD
Watch me Pee
“Can I have a P please Bobby?”
There is friction between us in The Sea.
Fraternity
The final filial piety
Count slowly as you walk away from me
That the hour passes slowly from when we die.
Too shy
Too rich
Too regal
Such a bitch!
Why would you WAG
When you could Hag,
And The Chase screened to Manhatten
The Questions you would like?
Back to Jeff and old man Bally
Down the Classy Junction
For some Gurdijeff and Gurdwara function.
But time is not so kind to all and this is a time to the Recorder
So that when action is in inaction and Jazbaa is spoken
The Fake Alexander is O’Neils at last for some New World Order.
Order It Again
In order to build order
Find out what the disorder did to you.
When there is water let there be dryness
If you find your Highness is too much of a blow for you.
They called him a King who dwelt on the most high
And left him with a poet who lost his script when the ink was dry –
That is the first difference between me and you:
That is the difference between a Cross and a Jew.
There are letters that say how I have been feeling
When the wire is tapped so the walkers are reeling
From their orgasms and manic spasms in the left of the Fall
When Autumn knows no conversation in the old Mordan Hall.
Sell my your cough as you walk repeated and reappear
Like a mirror from the Magic Mandrake who’s Magi is near
To the salesman who’s bonus means a full meal for the family and all
When the Summertown is not dunces town with a wheely bin for the Ball.
Next to me is the whisperer and the Clothed Dagger of the magic pen
Saying “Again!”
“Again!”
Where is the writer’s brain?
Straining, like a refraining, draining on the containment of time,
Again…
Wild Stage 