Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Scorpio

The night is cold
Windswept clear high pressure
Typical this time of year

Smoking pot in my backyard
I admire the spiral
Starry scorpion tail

Monday, March 24, 2008

Nocturne 36

The grasping hand of the dieing sun
Light paints the tops of trees
On that low ridge off the north east

See that one - across the way? Just there
That is where Major Darling planted the flag
And claimed as far as he could see
Under sovereignty his most gracious majesty.

And that next peak over that is where
Seamus Connor declared himself emperor.
He held a dirty scrap from the tunic
Of St Aloysius. Seamus said the idol
Turned away police bullets.

I suppose it worked, for a few years.

Hurry it is getting drunk.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Fragments (again)

Dreams
There was an accident here
The shining, dancing shards of glass
Remind one of the dreams of youth
Sensation
I stand in the shade, in the early morning
At the bus interchange, I am on my way to work
Old farms
The old farms are going
Forlorn closing down
Carved and divided
As the commute spreads
Across time and space

Drunk On the Bus

Drunk on the bus
What a day we had at work

And the fairy penguins jump
On the rocks - and then jump off
It is raining all the way down
To the coast - The penguins
Chase schools of silver
Scaled fish - I can barely
Keep my head up

Drunk after work
I struggle to keep my eyes
Open - we work
Exchange our labour power
For money - a way to get food
Exchange the money (labour power)
For apples - And the fairy
Penguins chase the silver fish...

Monday, March 17, 2008

The Cult of the Obscure

cat ~/queen/queen.txt
Walking the city streets, the early morning
Damp and foggy with the cold of the night
od -f $!
0000000 2.479233e+20 1.805997e+28 4.611421e+24 1.716120e+25
0000020 1.271409e+31 6.772083e+22 1.460717e-19 1.943162e-19
0000040 1.172080e+27 7.338720e+28 1.806088e+28 2.260195e+20
0000060 1.849738e+20 1.893578e+23 7.509490e+34 7.398812e+31
0000100 4.611421e+24 7.029226e+28 4.963900e+28 4.611420e+24
0000120 1.799233e+25 1.176781e-32 1.401298e-44
0000131


eb5d5679db2b6c8f5199765e6de0e7f2
more ~/translucent/translucent.txt
Translucent
The early morning fog and haze
Make the far off mountains
Seem as if translucent
od -b !$
0000000 124 162 141 156 163 154 165 143 145 156 164 012 012 124 150 145
0000020 040 145 141 162 154 171 040 155 157 162 156 151 156 147 040 146
0000040 157 147 040 141 156 144 040 150 141 172 145 040 012 115 141 153
0000060 145 040 164 150 145 040 146 141 162 040 157 146 146 040 155 157
0000100 165 156 164 141 151 156 163 012 123 145 145 155 040 141 163 040
0000120 151 146 040 164 162 141 156 163 154 165 143 145 156 164 012 012
0000140



ce9271ce326adabf51bf320b9484e988

4b035788b0e1675561fcf0b814b45ddf
grep '.*' ~/art/poetry/midnight/midnight.txt
Midnight
It had rained earlier
As I stood in the back yard.
Home from work shift work - late.
Smoking, thinking about Marx.
Reflected light from the full moon
Sparkled the damped edges of leaves
od -x !$
0000000 696d 6e64 6769 7468 0a0a 7449 6820 6461
0000020 7220 6961 656e 2064 6165 696c 7265 410a
0000040 2073 2049 7473 6f6f 2064 6e69 7420 6568
0000060 6220 6361 206b 6179 6472 0a2e 6f48 656d
0000100 6620 6f72 206d 6f77 6b72 7320 6968 7466
0000120 7720 726f 206b 202d 616c 6574 0a2e 6d53
0000140 6b6f 6e69 2c67 7420 6968 6b6e 6e69 2067
0000160 6261 756f 2074 614d 7872 0a2e 520a 6665
0000200 656c 7463 6465 6c20 6769 7468 6620 6f72
0000220 206d 6874 2065 7566 6c6c 6d20 6f6f 0a6e
0000240 7053 7261 6c6b 6465 7420 6568 6420 6d61
0000260 6570 2064 6465 6567 2073 666f 6c20 6165
0000300 6576 0a73
0000304


thomas@RedStar.org:~$ ping elvis
elvis is alive

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Things we have lost

The European explorer stumbled the strangling jungle
Lawless and violent the green steaming afternoons
Tore at his very soul. Brazil, Venezuela,
Bolivia, he did not know. One day appeared a river,
Wide and yellow with the thick hill side mud.
Along the banks of the river a small camp
Containing maybe twenty or so persons.

Out from packs was food and drink and the explorer
Penciled drawings of some of the children
And the children were afraid, and the explorer laughed,
For maybe the first time in weeks. There was a parrot,
Old he was, no one could truth say the age of the bird.
For it was found alone in a camp, alongside
Another riverbank, maybe even a tributary
Of this very river. All of the humans had died.
Only the bird remained. The bird amazed the explorer,
And the explorer made an entry in his journal.
"The parrot was the only speaker of a language
Once mouthed a murdered clan. All day long the bird
Would sing, thoughtless, the songs of the dead"
Songs no one was able to understand.

Sunny spot

I stand with my son
And together we stare
Into the sun and i am
Amazed how far away?
It takes seven minutes
For the light to reach us...

And yet...
The two of us
None of us can stare
At the balanced explosions
For very long before
Turning our heads to
Admit our inferiority.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Icy morning

Frosty cold morning, chooks huddled
One thin perch. Dog water bowl,
A thin plane of ice bound surface.

Ice sublates the black road interface.
A thin mist sways and rolls mysterious.
Be careful driving, he kisses her cheek,
The roads may be slick...

Vomitoria