The Silver Rose
(SR) LANGUAGE OF BIRDS
THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS
Attraction isn’t something that only happens once, with one person. It’s part of what drives humans
Colleen Hoover
1: Spring
Interea longis fessos, erroribus artus
Deponens, jacui viridanti in fluminis ora
Murmure languidulo sopitus, et otia duxi,
Permulsus volucrum concentu auraque Favoni
Artur Rimbaud
*
Come listen lady-lovers to the Language of the Birds,
Hands slipping under covers to the magic of these words,
Unleash thy spinning fingers, let’s explore Calypso’s Cave,
When ecstasy must bring us ever closer, lord & slave.
*
I have sung a hundred sonnets in-between dull Sunday psalms,
For the girls in pretty bonnets in the fields about the farms,
Where, in the warmer seasons, I would lead them thro’ the corn,
To tease, with playful, reasons why our clothes should lay unworn!
*
As good girls giggle by me, kicking apples down the lane,
I’d whisper to them shyly, pressing flowers in a chain,
& charming them with sympathy, invite them thro’ the trees
To where they bend down, good to me, in woodlands on their knees.
*
On finishing their feast of me I’d lift a sticky chin,
Let kisses seek release in me, one look will guide us in;
As for the rest; release the chi, hands roving as before,
If standing, let your spangling panties dangle to the floor,
*
If riding, ye should pull aside & park amidst the pines,
If biding time before he comes, uncork the scented wines,
Dress in a little negligee, let’s dim that too-bright light,
There’s nothing like a lass at play to whet my appetite.
*
Lift up thy lighter fancies girls; a gorgeous gull white scene,
Wind-flashing snowdrift whips & swirls above the thirsted green,
See snow-drop heads & crocuses seep colours through the glade
& lily-lidded lotuses peep from a woodland shade.
*
Into the forest – lifeless, leafless – rushed the eastern breeze,
A rush of flushing springtime, herbage fluffs the blasted trees,
Down to a breast’s unbuttoning warm sunbeams glide in, gold,
Despite the old dames muttering, ‘tonight might still be cold.’
*
A full-lipp’d, long-lash’d redhead, on the roads down to Dalry,
Has flipp’d the faintest flashings from the corners of her eye,
‘What bird or beast doth patter by?’ Her thoughts could not concur,
‘Perhaps a pretty butterfly?’ I float my mind to her;
*
‘Please feel no fear, my pretty dear, pray put your milk-pails down,
I fain would never let ye pass me, walking into town,
Without quenching my bone-dry thirst upon thy milk so white,
Lass, ye shall be the very first to whet my appetite.’
*
I bent, & bow’d, div’d to her feet, suckling ten jiggling toes,
She put down those milk buckets, as up both her legs I rose
In nubile nibbling, lay she flat, her struggles paralyzed,
As ‘Stop!’ ‘Oh no!’ ‘Dinnae do that!’ her snuggles much disguis’d.
*
Lips passing by her special place, beyond her belly too,
Clamping upon those ample breasts, her handsome nipples drew
Into my mouth, insatiate dance, on blowing moisture cool,
I headed south to find the lode-stone of her lady-jewel.
*
My scouting hands went on ahead, one found her rustic mound,
Her paradise, her pubic bed, I rubb’d it round & round,
As if it were a tended ground of silk-grass, softly swaying,
While blended pleasure-scented sounds assented to my playing.
*
O cunnilingus, intense tickling, flip-flap lapping tongue,
Beflickering like candle flame, belicking fast & strong,
My swiftly-darting serpent tongue unleash’d pink alphabets
& sometimes strumm’d a Muslim-song flung from the minarets.
*
Both up & down, both fast & fully furious it roves,
Kissing virginal sunlit lips, searching for treasure troves,
I hit a spot, O special spot, her smooth back arch’d aloft,
‘Suck it,’ she almost begg’d to me, ‘suck it’ she whisper’d soft.
*
Erewhile I sucked I heard her sing, it was a joy to see
Her little quim all quivering essential ecstasy,
Slipping a sturdy finger in, gripping her thre’penny piece,
With gleeful pelvic beckoning her G-force did release.
*
I push’d on hard into that place, breath ruddering my own,
As swift rotations click in pace gush-waters flood the zone
From cunny upwards thrust uncoiling kundalini thread,
Mind disassembling, wet thighs trembling,earthquakes in her head.
*
From shaky pails thick droplets white splash flames across her waist,
Bright orbs of milky crystal, quite alluring to the taste,
‘At last my thirst is quench’d…‘ upjinking from her tensing knees,
Pull’d out… a wink, with one last drink went slinking thro’ the trees.
*
I left her in a panting pile, exhausted, eyelids tight,
Dreaming of shores romantic t’where she’d fly in faerie flight,
Catching her breath she patted down her petticoat, & tread
Back to her distant eiderdown, her boyfriend & their bed.
*
Upon the path she pass’d a lass, who, like a drunken bride
Taken to task, listen’d aghast; then ask’d, ‘where does he hide?’
Her fever pinn’d to open masts, she’ll share that man’s desire,
& was, that day, the second lass to fan my special fire.
*
These precious meetings soon became obsessional in me,
Investing into Heaven’s nests infectious energy
For, ‘things that mak a grown hen blush,’ shrill whispers in the kirk,
As to the woods more women rush those hours men trudge to work.
*
As one-by-one, footloose & free, dames skip back to their lives,
‘What changes have come over thee,’ hum husbands to their wives,
‘For ye seem very amorous, the most since ye turn’d bride,’
Of course it was her time with us that sent them satisfied.
—————————————-
2: Summer
I was only a poor poet, made for singing at her casement
As the finches or the thrushes, while she thought of other things
She walked so high above me, she appeared to my abasement,
In her lovely silken murmur, like an angel clad in wings!
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning
*
As summer chimes enchorial, what chorus every morn
Of songbirds’ strung arboreal for Horus’ all reborn,
My wilder side ran rampant loose, so good to feel alive,
‘I should,’ I mused, ‘try & seduce’ the wives of Moniaive,
*
For they go out a-foraging when trees are leafy full;
‘Believe me when I say to thee thou art too beautiful,’
I’d purr to them cautiously keen, a cheek-stray’d hair to fix,
Whether they were a crisp sixteen or frisky fifty-six.
*
Round all the girls of Galloway a wicked rumour spread;
‘A man lives in the woods, they say, makes forest floors a bed,
& understands the secrets of the Birds which dwell above
& better still he speaks the words to rouse a woman’s love.’
*
Ours was a Xanadu that June, a ‘Cisco this July,
As August Harvest comes too soon, one half-mile from Dalry
I saw a pretty buxom lass with hair like knotted gold,
Which glimmer’d gladly as she pass’d into the woodland wold,
*
When startling her a moment, stepping out from breathing trees,
‘Relax,’ said I, ‘Sir, are ya he?’ ‘Perhaps…’ ‘Sir if ya please,
I beg ye to attend tae what,’ she purs’d her scarlet lips,
‘Has burst intae some harlet knot, some curse between mah hips.
*
I think about yers everywhere, about the things ye’ll dee
Tae me if ah could only share mah perfect fling wi’ ye,
Mah pussy is an aga-stove that’s ne’er bin left to cool,
Which I’ve ‘gan ardour grove-tae-grove tae find ye, like a fool!’
*
‘Perhaps,’ much flatter’d by her dream, ‘a little later dear,
First, let us sup these sweetly streaming hillside waters clear,
Then feast upon this tasty hare I’ve roasted with dry sticks,
I caught it in my woodland snare, I caught it with my tricks.’
*
As with that gaily-splendid lass I settl’d to a meal,
Sat in the ferly-scented grass, our conversations wheel;
Bones pick’d right clean we look’d up to the dappl’d canopy
Where bluebirds preen, & pluck’d a few red apple-lanterns free.
*
She chibb’d a bite, I watch’d her loose lips slip the flesh within,
Watch sev’ral little juice-drips dribble down her tilted chin,
Them melted in her cleavage, when compell’d to view the wedge,
I felt my loins’ thrust-leverage propel me from love’s ledge,
*
As senses tantric-touching climb like rivers in a spate,
Commences now the clutching time, two beings penetrate,
As, I, a tender kiss impart, planted on panting chest,
An inch or two above her heart, let Nature do the rest;
*
Brushing my hips her deft hand grips my cleft caduceus,
Between my lips her firm tongue slips wild, fluttering kisses,
‘What do you want… I want to please you,’ pleads she with a stare,
‘I only want,’ I whisper teasing, ‘just to be… down there.’
*
Haunching myself above her as the Moon tips oer the land,
She’s begging me to fuck her, tugging with an eager hand
My hard as rock, blood-swollen cock, pulsating smooth & red,
Fed in her aching labyrinth where liquid-silvers thread.
*
The Moon sent Myrtho’s shadows to the waters & the rocks
Beside the earthy meadows fill’d with dandelion clocks,
Then entering she gave a <GASP>, when with a fearful heave
Flesh lock’d in flesh, with tight’ning clasp our slim limbs interweave.
*
‘Look at the trees! Look at the trees!’ Her voice was rich like honey,
Its cadence willing me to please her choice, bewitching cunny,
Then spinning round she leaps on top, a spider with her prey,
Sliding her spike inside us… or I her… O God that’s Great!
*
Of all the images I see this is her matchless angle,
When gorgeously up over me breasts to my body dangle,
Them drifting down enchanting to my nipple-tickling teeth,
While fingers taut & slanting pat her lattice underneath.
*
For this is bliss, yes you & I, eternity is now,
When misty & auspicious skies, mysterious, endow
This moment with salacious light, thy vision grass-stalks frame,
Swaying to our lovemaking as when thunder moves thro’ flame.
*
Just like the waves which lap erewhile wee sailboats cruise the bay,
I pulse within almandine isle…. now turning her we lay
Two taut milk-ladles in the grass… then rise we, howling hounds,
Slapping her plump, abounding ass as mighty thigh-push pounds.
*
As she her conjugals betray’d (& bore she no remorse),
Like flagellants her flesh was flay’d, goug’d by the jaggy gorse,
She gave retort to shake the dead, or raise a husband’s e’en –
His wife, he thought, was making bread, but naewhere could be seen.
*
With gangly gang of angry guys he flung his search-array
Towards our clanging passion-cries a mile or two away,
For I, that night, had grown cocksure, with such doth instinct blunt,
Blown mesmerised by her alluring, soul-consuming cunt.
*
Ignoring vatic, stern-squawk’d cries from birds flown branch & leaf,
I lock’d her fast ‘twyx naked thighs, her troth of wedlock’s thief,
But just before oblivion’s forever shouts should flee,
Five gruff, rough, tough-toned scruffy men about us could we see.
*
Dark faces torchlight-flickering they dragg’d our lust apart,
With wife & husband bickering they tied us to a cart,
& dragg’d me off to Dumfries town, where in a cell I lay,
Alone… some flagging, sad-faced clown… the gossip of Galloway!
——————–
3: Autumn
Bref, mon esprit sans connaissance d’ame
Vivait alors sur la bouche a ma dame
Don’t se mourait le corps enamoure:
Et si la levre eut guere demoure
Contre la mienne, elle m’eut suce l’ame
En la baisant
Clement Marot
*
As I, condemn’d to live in sighs, by Burghers of Dumfries,
Did one day listen to the cries of south-migrating Geese,
I found the frumpy Jailor’s Wife (she’d had me in July),
Had cook’d for me some country knife inside a prime beef pie.
*
With this (how marvellous the ruse) her half-wit husband trick’d,
With that lard-fellow well asnooze that tight wee lock I pick’d,
Ghosting within her chamber-room I twist her crystal dial,
Oblivious to danger’s doom for it had been a while.
*
Screeching upon an iron chair the Jailor eas’d from sleep,
I kiss’d his wife, fled from the lair, thro’ open window leap,
Night-hush soon broken by a howl to wake the whole damn town,
‘That man-wolf has escaped!’ men scowl, ‘let’s hunt the bastard down.’
*
Curs chase me thirty miles or more all thro’ the furtive night,
Til, coming hard upon thy door, ‘tis time to set things right,
On answering I sense thy shock, too scared to rouse the home,
Eyes Meet, Our Singing Soul-Ship’s Dock, Lips-Lock & Tongue-Tips Roam.
*
‘Why come to me?’ ‘I want to see thee, darling, I love you!
No woman’s ever shone in me the starlight that ye do;
Come leave thy husband, mistress, come & leave him as he snores,‘
Rush’d… in a state of half undress… ye join me out of doors.
*
Hen, off we fled, ‘gan glen-to-glen, two partners, hand-in-hand,
Up to the lang Water of Ken, hung high above the land,
From comely fleece we made a fire, where in its homely light
Lines of my silver sonnets hop like robins thro’ the night.
*
‘Ye jewel of the diamond’s price, ye bloom of rose’s rank,
Thine everlasting eyes entice me off the pirate’s plank
Into the oceans of thy heart, for in that heart we dwell,
Within this heart my Heaven & outwith thy heart my Hell.
*
For there’s a certain alchemy when melodies fair merge,
I share with ye rare chemistry & wear it surge-on-surge,
I live in thee, ye lives in me, there’s lyrics in our lust,
Such mystery shall always be our music & our trust.
*
Let lips fall on thy gentlest O, them deftly there shall trace
Wee love hearts with a fearie flow, leave imprints soft, like lace,
Let lips all feather-wafting drift against thy breasts so pert
Let strapping hands hitch up & lift the hem-stich of thy skirt,
*
With firmer grasp thy knees imprised, & spun upon the heel,
Ye with a gasp shall realized these sonnetries are real!’
A love of wondrous poesy creeping into violet hearts,
Pressing Atlantis panties deep into thy private parts;
*
A phantasy of auld return’d… she ravished midst the ferns,
When thistles bit & nettles burn’d un-noticed as she yearns
For some strong buck to suck her neck… I did & shook yer soul,
As buckling knees flop to the deck where, coupling, ye did crawl
*
To claim my carmine cock’s release, ye kneeling midst the trees,
Spread feelings I would fain ne’er cease from licking, taste & tease,
Girl, let things go, feel more than owned; throat, mouth, full of my girth,
Happy to drink thine ease from drouth, a thirsty girdle’s worth.
*
Then, licencing my roving palms, ye swoon & let them go,
Before, afront, between thy charms… above, behind, below,
Eternally terrific, discombobulating beam,
Our harp of sensuality’s emasculating dream,
As up against a tree we stand a leaf falls on thy face,
I ease it off with soothing hand & smooth my movement’s pace,
When every time I heave my way into thy moist delights
Ye’ll moan up to the Milky Way’s sky-hoisted satellites.
*
I raise ye by thy slender waist, & with the other hand
Slow wind ye round, as now ye face the soaring, tawny land,
A rhythmical osmosis drew hot juices thro’ my loins
While sounds of hooves & horses grew that cursing cur conjoins.
*
Faces of handsome certitude, grace ceases to exist,
Releas’d from randsom’d servitude, cheek-cuddling as we kiss’d,
The angels play’d above us, perfum’d oxytocin clouds
Surrounds two perfect lovers, bound in one another’s shrouds.
O sheer breath-taking, femur-shaking, quaking rush of blood;
O leaf-vein snaking, fruit-route taking, breaking gush of flood!
A big, bold, beating, soul-completing, soar of awesome drums,
Roars loud as fleet-heel’d saints were meeting, plucking seraph-strums!
*
An integrated, satiated sense the storm was done,
As all about us swallows celebrate the flaming sun
There flows such passions easily as pours the open’d wine,
Immers’d in love-sent sanctity, content to know you’re mine,
*
My darling, let us cuddle tight, gaze safely in these eyes,
Watch rays of psilocybin light make lazars in the skies…’
All in a dash of quantum flash we two were two white swans
Soaring yon Solway’s pebbledash to lands of sandy bronze.
*
Up to wild snowstorms billowing about th’Atlantic stream,
We soar’d our way wind-willowing like twin wolves in a team,
As if searching for Seeta, sweetest of the East by far,
Til parakeets come greet us by the fleets of Tranquebar.
*
We follow them to Andaman, where on the Jolly Bouy
Let us land as man & woman, & abandon us to joy,
As we settle down together to a dinner, you & I,
Under calm, unbroken weather of a balmy, breathless sky,
————-
4: Denoument
The lady watched her lover – & that hour
Of Love’s, & Night’s, & Ocean’s solitude
O’erflowe’d her soul with their united power
Lord Byron
*
As fishermen bring back the catch & sunset reddens sky,
I lie beside thy lavish thatch, our vibes intensify,
Ye are an island to explore, thy valleys, peaks & wood
Entice my wanders more & more, arous’d my carnal blood,
*
My puckered lips did nip & suck, my tongue-tips tickled light,
I took the dip & slowly stuck two fingers up, & tight!
Still gorging an indulgent breast, still forging deep inside,
My thumb-club rubs thy nubbl’d nest, it cannot be denied;
*
As to the Scop-Owls perfect pump-like wuck-chug-chug I push,
My fingers find a secret stump-like nook… a geyser’s gush
With looks of love & lust let free, exquisite kisses please,
‘My love ye are so good to me,’ ye whistle to the breeze.
*
Sweetheart, ‘tis time to enter thee, tae bore thine armour’d dark,
An awesome <GASP> thy fingers grasp tae claw the palm-tree bark,
As all my astral love employs such esoteric touch,
At first ye cannae hold the joys, the motion feels too much.
As senses tantric-touching climb like rivers in a spate,
Commencing now the clutching time, two beings penetrate,
Plaese fuck me harder baby, Sally begs in ecstasy!’
‘Ten minutes be my pardon, babe, & then I’ll set thee free,
Til’ then my strokes stay soft, stay slow, there’ll be no sharp surprise,’
Stoking a warm orgasmic glow in flame-encinctured eyes,
The Ocean brings a cautious breeze, the Moon the still of night,
A coconut crashes thro’ trees & bird disturbs to flight.
*
‘Nine minutes…’ let us sample what it’s like to fly a kite,
Sat in the rhythm temple of our temporal delight,
Singing the Karma Sutra, Saraswathi on sitar,
‘My love you are my future, are my life-raft’s guiding star.’
*
‘Just eight more minutes…’ breathe I as my darling strokes maintain
All the sultriness of Shanghai, smooth as Dubai’s darkling plain,
For there is sweet perfection when erection firmly held,
Quintesscening connexion of the psychtropic meld.
*
On seven minutes pleasures surge, throbbing lip-bitingly,
Sliding the sex celestial, enmesh’d elatedly,
We are two Lovers natural, expressless, yon all speech,
Our Love the body beautiful on sempiternal beach.
*
‘Six minutes sweetheart, more for ya…’, as the moon shone on the land,
Thy cortex cornucopia regaled at my command,
Erewhile I softly stimulize thy spirit’s lissome dreams,
What lofty zephyrs phantasize of coming in the sunbeams!
*
‘Five minutes love…’ this thrust unties the keystone to unlock
Thy trust-exhaling orchid cries, her lilting for my cock
Cries acquiescence more & more, breath wishing I’d go faster,
“Patience!” I said, “your time will come, good woman I’m yer master.”
*
‘Four minutes…’ let us halt the hooves, we’ll watch the world stand still,
When looking at her body proves in she my lives fulfil,
‘Ye are so fucking sexy lass,’ as with a gentle creak
I push into thine underpass & nipples ‘gan to tweak.
*
‘Three minutes…’ fainting lambs at play, life’s frolicking connects us,
A soft, sensory holiday of the foxy senses,
On flexing back converg’d a spell, night’s freckling starry chart;
Ineffable love-surges swell… felicitous my heart!
*
‘Two minutes more…’ the penetrating melody fulfils
Of sweet syrinxes resonating praise… the cloudy grills
& sunrays spear exotic… all my smoothness snaps to jolts,
Forbidden & erotic, clapping swarthy thunder-bolts.
*
‘One minute dear,’ into thine ear I whisper’d, ‘to complete
This countdown sensual seconds steer,’ increasingly our beat,
Invokes seething Vesuvious, her lava set to blow,
Fiances fucking furious, our virtuoso flow!
*
O Liberations! Celebrations! Racers Riding Skies!
Acceleration-laced Sensations Splice Colliding Thighs!
Champagne Decanters Set to Pop! Bees Hop upon on a Rose!
‘Im Coming Babe, Don’t Stop, Don’t Stop,’ Urging my Further Blows,
*
Thy Breath Cascades! My Shakeress! My Bel imperia!
Blending Tremendous Hand Grenades! Compell’d Hysteria!
Explosion-Quaking Uterus! From Flexile Meteors,
Voluptuous & Unctuous… fled rabbits from the wars.
Inconscient in the gilded gaps twyx sex & ecstasy,
Lovegasming, our limbs collapse beside a shimm’ring sea,
Our randy & romantic pile, as frantic pantings fade,
Struck up the songbirds of these isles a sylver serenade.
We lay awhile… becalm’d… asleep… I rose without ye stirring,
I found a sea-shell round & deep, I fill’d it to yer purring,
Washing away yer sea-salt sweat ye sail’d a wistful sigh,
‘My love, I am not finish’d yet…’ ye whisper’d, ‘my, oh my…’
*
Ye sitting up, I slid behind, cupping a supple breast,
Letting my favour’d fingers find the moist & swollen crest
Of thy most tender labia; with searing, stealthy stroke,
I’ll have my lovely way wi’ yer, when with a slender poke
*
I push my fingers deep once more… surf shines upon our feet…
Transported to this lapping shore as alchemies complete;
Lass, let us cease this wooing song my cooing kisses seal,
Come here to me… come taste my tongue… try doing this for real!
(SR) 5: The Scotiad
THE SCOTIAD
When we stride or stroll across the frozen lake
We place our feet where they have never been
We walk upon the unwalked. But we are uneasy.
Who is down there but our old teachers?
Robert Bly
***********
PAISLEY
I’m cringing every time I see a proper Paisley tie,
I’d just popp’d ‘ungry into Greggs a hottish pie to buy
& chose a steak & kidney offer’d up for ninety pee,
I took the pie, she took the change, & said, “It’s ninety-three!”
I said, “Love, that’s false advertising,” stormin’ out the door,
But never mess wi’ Weegie Birds, they’re proper fuckin’ hard-core,
& leaping from her hum-drum she pursus me down the street,
Lookin’ as if an earthquake were shaking a slab of meat,
& panting now beside me squeez’d the pastie from my hands,
Smugging with satisfaction at her petty jobsworth’s stand
& turns her tail in triumph, as back to her shop she skips,
You coulda balanc’d ninety-three bridies on those fat hips,
Then looking down on what was left, my skin all bruis’d with mince,
I thought I’d catch the first train out – ain’t ever been back since!
***********
ARRAN ARRIVAL
Remember the moment Arran came real
Sat on a stone by a sunbathing seal
Perch’d on a pyramid, sea splash & splish
God, why dya put a dog’s head on a fish?
The eldest lay like lions oer the bay
The youngest lifts its heads & looks my way
Then shifted weight & slid into the sea
To settle on a shallow shelf near me
She knew I was a poet, I could tell,
Perhaps it was my solitary dell
Of silent thoughts, thro’ which I shall commune
Thro’ druid nature, with an ancient moon –
A sprig of scented streaming enters mind,
Future is real, the past a dream behind!
***********
GLEN ROSA
Following the bob of the deers’ heads guide
Scampering alane along the hillside
Not quite a goat, not even younger man
But, damn it, I shall do the best I can
As is the wont of jaunting sonneteer
Among these stones, where bones of mountaineer
Who died a lonely death, a broken pile,
Lies hidden in some crevice peristyle;
The smoothest rocks I’ve ever seen alain
Among the heather bells, all underneath
The poet peaks of Arran since I came
By strange force drawn, the one that governs fate
With gorse just yellow, heather yet to spate
Perch’d in a pure profundidty of thought
I feast upon this mansion for the eyes.
***********
GLEN SANNOX
With Gods of Arran I’ve come to commune,
A Druid of the Realm & of the Moon,
Is this Olympus? This the Delphic vale?
A mythomeme? A dream? A fairytale?
A Cuckoo Call the only sound I’ll hear
But for the murmor of the burnbrook clear
Those stones upon the slopes are older than
The Laws of Zion & the Fall of Man!
A glance behind to townships of the coast
Across the waves, a dozen miles at most,
Reminds me I am mired in my times
Of Crashing Dreams & Cash Machines & Crimes
So, let me gaze again upon Goat Fell
Uprising like a divine citadel!
***********
THE BOGUILLE
Took a pill for a hill and a headwind,
What a thrill when the voyager starts,
Limbs laden with bags like a Bedouin,
Full of bedding and biscuits and charts!
As hauling the hill slope demands a
Huge effort of pedalling legs,
Downhill all the way to Lochranza,
To the inn and it’s tasty old kegs,
& a pint, as I wait for the ferry,
With a salad of radish and ham,
Wash’d down with a wee glass of sherry,
Finish’d off with a single malt dram;
Setting off, then, I felt rather merry,
Flying drunk and I don’t give a damn.
***********
KINTYRE
Far from the shock & shockwaves that inspire
Testosterone, that rages as an ape
Set in a dirty cage – this is Kintyre
Of pristeen, tranquil harbours – here escape
The rituals of bedlam, & retire
From vistas concrete, & fermenting grape –
Far from the shock & shockwaves that inspire
Testosterone, cag’d like a dirty ape!
O’ergaze to the gorgeous isle of Arran,
Where the mountains are dwarfing Pirnmill,
& the beige & the browns are all barren,
& the sea is incredibly still,
Where lumbers a boat, flowing slowly,
Over scenery poetry-holy.
***********
ISLAY
There is a calm of Islay, where far flew
First flourishings of Christianic gloss,
Who else but God could bring a peace so true,
In whose Son’s honour stands Kildotan’s Cross?
As breezes drop, & the sea-spray pure, a
Spirit passes twyx Islay & Jura,
What wilderness inspires the wand’rers eye
To tackle those rough paps before I die?
Convinced in the magnificence of now,
Of living things, & seeing life, & how
Complexities evanish like a sprite;
I AM a poet! Let these vows renew
On Carn na Faire, watching the birthing night
Compel the stars to crown this drastic view!
***********
JURA
Upon the edge of the Atlantic Main,
I cycl’d up thro’ Jura in the rain,
Where, stopping, time-to-time, atop the coast,
To soak up views, I’ve feel alive the most,
For famous tayles beside the hearths here told,
Of ancyent chiefs & voyagers of old,
Fianna country of the staggish feasts,
& St Colomba of the ragged priests,
Dismounting, now, I see the silver drift,
Of fair Loch Tarbert’s lofty, vaprous lift,
As down a jagged trackway I descend,,
I sense this is a solid way to end,
My epic cycle, in the slimey light,
I pitch my tent & set a fire alight.
————
GLEN COE
Before Glen Coe’s ghostly & ghastly peaks,
Lost Merlin lochs of savage Rannoch Moor
Move the soul to tears… challenge to surmount
Invites with topaz slopes, we park the car,
Pop a wee pill & begin the ascent,
An arduous climb, at first with no fear
& then with no choice as danger fills the way,
Soaked deep to the bones, soon greeted by our aim,
O perfect precipice, perching beneath the clouds
We pause a fine moment, eyes keen to the skies,
My love, these are the days of our lives,
World-keltering vista… East… West… breathtaking
But rains closing in now, lets begin the descent,
We bare-chested hill warriors in the breeze.
***********
MEALL AN FHEADAIIN
The feather-flux of life is strange in change
Blown zephyr-lite on random, breezy gusts
Or are they more than sheer coincidence
For on the birthday of a lass I’ve loved
The first of hers I’d miss’d in all these years
I found myself alone at Altan Dhu
That treeless heap of heather, sheep & shore
With views to navigate the weary soul
Down wee mad roads to better harbours found
Where, squatting on the spot from far I felt,
Communion with my love-consumptive bride,
Then slipp’d a spot of silver perspective
Into my ain life’s ale, with rapid gusts,
How Sally blew the phantoms from my mind!
***********
SKYE
As Kestrels surf the mountain-fring’d spaces
Road twists between saturnine gargants,
Romantic mounds of monstrous magma,
Marvelous munros of aulden minstrel-song,
Lost in the moment, eyes keen to the skies,
Hard traveling unravels, sailing above us
Silver-fire mists of the sylvan alpine rise,
& beyond, entering the stunning scope
Of another planet, another Jupiter,
Sodden expanse of treeless waste,
But beautiful land, stupendous Cuillin hills,
Seats of Titans, where thrusting solar shafts
Induce startling notions of timelessness –
Here there is no time, only milky flowing waterfalls.
***********
SKYE BY NIGHT
The sun has set as steer & stereo
Accompany this mountain clansman’s land
Being a region ancyent eagles spann’d,
Some stoic slept, some capp’d with blocks of snow…
I found myself on the edge of civilization,
Not Tierra del Fuego or frozen Archangel,
But Portree, place to be, ‘metropolis’ of Skye,
Two thousand Highlanders sheep dip high,
The port seems far too quiet as we are drawn
To a clishmaclaving ceilidh at the Gathering Hall,
“Can we have a drink?” “I’m afraid ye cannae!”
Sally hands me the flyer; 28th annual
Isle of Skye Alcoholics Anonymous gathering –
Tonight’s theme… Tolerance… & the place is heaving.
***********
SHANGRI-LA
Eurasia, Eurasia, from tip to toe,
Men may wander thee forever in vain,
From the sensuous sierras of Spain,
To the towers of spangling Tokyo,
Men have stumbl’d thro’ Siberian snow,
To the jungles where Ganga parts plain
Enough to send a troubadour insane
For Shangri-La a myth most never know.
Yet here lie the shores of Arabia
& the fjords of the Skull-helms of old
Here an angel-throne’d high Himalaya
& a castle of Prince Leopold
For here be defining Eurasia,
Reminding us with weathers manifold.
***********
NORTHERN SUNSET
As times have swung again to strike the road,
My eldritch muses glean a glint of gold,
Perhaps a mile away, perhaps abroad,
Shall I be searching, still, when I am old?
How gorgeous is the red sun as she sits
Upon the haunch of Hoy, the Pentland Firth
As glass tonight, no epic pitch of wits,
Twyx elements girdling this happy earth.
A bannock moon hangs over John o’Groats,
& Dunnet Head us summons to a path
That leads down from this pinnacle of sorts,
Along the sea-bash’d coast to wylde Cape Wrath.
Where I shall seek out rosaries once more
Tomorrow, yon this dreich Duncansby bore.
(SR) THE GOLGOG OF GLEN ROSA
THE GOLGOG OF GLEN ROSA
Old Malakai pick’d up a knife
& stuck his ‘fucking boring wife,’
Then drove around & park’d the car,
& acted normal in a bar.
He drain’d his glass, he stepp’d outside,
The sea had wash’d up with the tide,
He thought at first to wade within
& cleanse his life of guilt & sin.
He threw, instead, his phone into
Those murky waters, then he drew
All of his wages from the bank,
For seven days just drank & drank.
His wife’s young brother call’d & call’d,
Persistence pains, excuses stall’d,
“I’m coming down tomorrow, man,”
Old Malakai conjur’d a plan;
He’d leave forever Milton Keynes;
A jumper, coat, a pair of jeans,
A t-shirt & a paperback,
Was all his life was, in a sack.
He caught a train to London Town,
The police search’d for him up & down,
He shaved his beard & wore a hat,
Then chang’d his name & found a flat.
He dared not work, nor too far go,
With money on a one-way flow,
It dwindl’d in a dire descent,
Until he could not pay the rent.
Without a hope, without a name,
The killer’s curse a face of fame,
So, off he wander’d to the wild
Of Scotland where the mountains piled.
He found a glen, he built a camp,
The summer short, the autumn damp,
The winter cold, spring barely better,
Wilder, windier & wetter.
Where he will wander all year round,
Still fidgety at every sound,
His hat is torn, his beard is black,
& sometimes, weird, along the track,
He shuffles past the tourists, who
Will look a bit like me & you,
You’ll know him by his lary look,
A monster in a scary book,
That stares at you without a wink,
& as you smell his dreadful stink,
Please, hurry past, no don’t engage,
Else loose that killer from his cage.
For killers kill until they’re caught,
He’ll clamp his hands around your throat
& squeeze until your breath is gone,
Another dead, another one
Has vanish’d in the forest slutch;
A Swede, a German, & a Dutch,
A Fifer from Dalgety Bay,
Don’t be the next one he can slay.
Yes, hurry past, avert your eyes,
For contact makes his fevers rise,
& never slouch a wee look back
For he’ll be crouching on the track,
Drooling at you with sneer’d intent,
A predator whose caught the scent,
Stood waiting for the trigger-glance,
No don’t look back, this is your chance!
Escape, escape, get out the glen,
Catch ferries back, go home & then
Old Malakai push from your mind,
You’ve left that bastard far behind;
Where, mentally he’s masticating
Flesh, & later masturbating,
Over bones where you & me
Might pass into posterity.
Aggravating, agitating,
Malakai stands salivating,
Thro’ the skull-bone of your head
Drills bulging eyes shot bloodshed red.
He’s waiting for your face to turn,
With eyes that bleed, with eyes that burn,
The pull is fierce, the urge is strong,
A thousand thoughts about us throng;
But don’t look back, what e’er you do,
I know you’re really wanting to,
He could be coming now, you think,
Is that his breath upon the brink?
Are those his feet that closer thud?
Are you about to bleed your blood
Within this glen of shallow graves,
Of screams & chases, rapes & caves,
Where Malakai is now Golgog,
The grunt of boar, the face of frog,
The deathless Arran Al-Sameri,
Tortur’d by eternal, dreary
Fate eternal outcasts share,
Like Buttadeus, unaware
Offended Heaven, for all time,
Condemns him to repeat his crime.
& tho’ the cops race oer the wave,
Not one has fac’d his hidden cave
Up on a slope, behind a stone,
That he’ll slide open when alone,
Or hide inside until they’ve pass’d
Police helicopters, as the last
Motions of rotor wane & fade,
He’ll wait until a certain shade
Has cloak the entranc’d, strength applied
Upon that stone, a long slow slide
Aside, then thrillingly emerg’d
A killer to more killing urg’d.
So… Syracuse to Zaragoza,
Never venture thro’ Glen Rosa,
Malakai seeks murders new,
He’s done his wife, now he’ll do you!
(SR) 6: The Lothiad
THE LOTHIAD
Enchanting. It will make a delightful summer capital when we invade Britain
Dr Joseph Goebells
*****
EAST BANK
I found myself alive off Easter Road,
A warm, spring sun lighting this little room
My long muse-lust has left me to afford.
Dust particles danced from the shadow-gloom,
Uprousing me to Reekie’s sweeping streets,
Some orphan up an open New Town flume.
As in me love of sonnetry repeats,
I find a spot three hundred steps away,
Where, from this catalyst, art unsecretes.
For, now, out in the bright spark of the day,
Between these tombs of Binnie, Baird & Burck,
I roam East Bank, with serendips at play,
Knowing this is a place where I could work,
For silent spaces are the makar’s kirk.
*****
SCOTTISH POETRY LIBRARY
As pleasure makes us read & reading makes us know
& knowing makes us sing, & singing makes us grow
‘Tis best to set in store the reliquary of song
A merry house of books which all can march among
To cherish & sustain a native heritage
As Homer heard the tales of Menalean rage
Down here on Crichton’s Close a nation’s soul is kept
The surge MacDiarmid surf’d, the dirges Dunbar wept
Thro’ Scotland’s love of art & Gulbenkian gift
An avalanche of books available to sift
Come pile a table high, as shelf-by-shelf we comb
To find that special verse, or take those verses home
If ever passing by, if under poesy’s spell,
Come pause & swoon & sigh where kindred spirits dwell!
*****
RABBIE BURNS
There is a certain knack to becoming an immortal;
As Orpheus’ heartbeat passes thro’ Pluto’s portal
& Burns arriv’d at Baxter‘s Close, by Lady Stair’s fine house,
Singing of reeking haggises & a wee tim’rous mouse,
When, even on that first mad day, he copp’d a‘gardy-loo,’
Went shit-caked, wand’ring city streets, without a bloody clue,
He knew if he could sing his songs the world was sure to hear,
So, as oor sweet Sordello fell on Johnnie Dowie’sbeer,
With enough space for a fiddle, him just like theArgo’s cox,
He beats enchaunting rhythm thro’ his native tides &rocks,
Eftsoons, at Mrs Carfrae’s door, his destiny wouldstand,
“Your little book of poetry the gossip of the land!”
That night the muse came calling as oor bardie’s pen address’d
Verses to fluff his new edition, both Edina-bless’d.
*****
EDINBURGH ZOO
When Noah’s Ark left two-by-two,
They’d hurry back in if they’d knew
They’d one day end up in a zoo
For all the fucking world to view;
The Wolverine, the Kangaroo,
The Lesser Spiral-Horn’d Kudu,
The Chimpanzees in pirate crew,
The Turacoo of violet hue,
The coarse-quill’d, stiff-claw’d, casque’d Emu,
Flies flocking to the Rhino poo,
The Pygmy Hippo, & what’s new
The Ocellated Turkey too!
I climb the walls, midst human herds,
An Alcatraz of Beasts & Birds!
*****
CRAMMOND
As I burst out of Costorphine Wood in times of rhymes uprising
A little disorientated from that madd’ning mazy hill
Below me, summer farmland, grand in greens & gold unfolding
Down to the Crammond foreshore with her island leaning leftwise
I wander’d with the cyclists, there, the sea-gulls & the dogwalkers
Lit by a misty sun, visible thro a mole’s opacous membrane
& felt a certain freedom beneath the soft calm of heaven
From the stench & detritus of dirty empires in the waters
Mankind is older than the dust of lost forgotten cities
& the monkeys & the dogs & the lizards we all once were
There is a wondrous common-ness to which all creation must answer
A pond of ancient memories, you can hear them in the ditties
Sung by blind bards, & in the Spring when deep down we remember
Being those plants gasping for life across thirsty, frozen tundra
Like a baby turning towards the milky breast of his mother!
*****
STOCKBRIDGE
When standing in Stockbridge the city staccato
Seems quietly distant, as streets of high quality
Are blest with a presence of sensible shoes,
Of ladies of leisure alluring luxurious,
& jolly old gentlemen, & joggers in jewels;
O! Wealth Karlsefinian! O! Pride Carthaginian!
That vision of Raeburn, his mission to build homes
Exclusive, expensive, elusive advantages,
Two gardens to tend to, a postcode of gold,
But built before parking & permits & penpushers,
The mad, modern nightmare the New Town now knows!
To buy such a mansion, price upwards two million
Or more for the glory of lordlier life,
All named after Raeburn’s amazing young wife!
*****
CALTON HILL
I am the Silver Rose,
& with these streets shall fuse,
To etch my gift in rhyme;
The scene provokes the Muse
To join me, for a time!
“THOU ART THE SILVER ROSE
LET US MEET IN THIS CITY
FLESH, BRICK, SKY & OCEAN,
HARMONIOUS, ETERNALLY, NOW!”
Auld Reekie flames my mind,
This heart-pulse of the realm,
In dragon’s furnace born!
With faeries at the helm
By Eldritch dream design’d!
*****
OVER LOTHIAN
We forage up volcanic Berwick Law,
Oer the kingdom of the Votadini,
From gorse-gold mount Lothian’s jewel shore
Curves round the Firth of Forth to Queensferry.
‘Neath rocks of prehistoric pimplerie,
Dunbar, East Linton, Haddington abide,
Fields skiff the sea, while to the other side
Roll lonely Lammermuirs where thought soars free.
& further still, beside the Fifer sea,
The silver streak of Portobello sands,
Leads on to Leith, then inland, shadowy,
Peeps Arthur’s Seat, winking at the Pentlands;
This is the length of Roman Lothian,
A second home my roaming soul hath won.
*****
COUNTRY LIVING
My cities, I leave thee, gritty & grime,
This budding muse prepares the spirit’s ark,
Where bird-migration marks the pass of time
What was lifestyle now grey & stranger-stark.
Like Guernica or Oranges-sur-Seine,
Once vivid colours growing daily dark.
Occasionally owend my thoughts to when
Wordsworth had found a stool to ease his mind
From crowded sensibilities of men
I, too, hope happy harbourage to find
Beside a world of green, where piny glade
By Vallambrosan cardinal design’d
For as Iona’s church from wattles made
The forum for a forest made fair trade.
*****
CARFRAE
When the broad haars uprise t’ward the breadth of the skies,
Looking down from the crown Lammermuirs,
Unseal’d from the mist, like the steel of a fist,
Little Carfrae, like love, reappears!
With the air floating still let your stare catch a hill
& the soft heather thatch of the moors,
Let the clarion wild stroke your soul like a child
As its calling us all out of doors.
Wherever you are, whether near, whether far,
Come & while with a poet today,
Take a drive, make a hike, climb a mile on your bike,
To the magical isle of Carfrae.
All alone, set apart, in the glorious heart
Of East Lothian’s wheat Beaujolais.
*****
A NEW HOME
This land so very different from the map,
Whose shades of green & grey fail to divulge
The beauty of this place I now call home;
“I now call home…” these words unreal to hear,
How many times I sing them to my mind,
If this is so, I must now be prepar’d
For all eventualities life throws,
But balanc’d in my years let fear subside,
My body following its shining soul,
For love has led me safely here thus far,
Where now I feel a Caledonian,
Sent here by love, by love deposited,
Sensing a while of work, so to remain,
As in this place, & time, three things converge –
An art, an artist & his ain heart’s surge.
*****
PRESSMENNAN
Feel the feeling on the edge of summer,
Hours before your first foggybummer,
April, perhaps, or March on a good year,
Out on the tracks with the shy, pregnant deer,
Wearing the hat that you’ve worn all Winter,
Skimming thro’ Plath or the plays of Pinter,
Warming each pace in your courdoroy clothes,
As petals do abud before the rose.
As all at once we lessen from our haste,
& cardigans are tied about the waste,
We feel a spirit stroke the naked arm
A zephyr-waft, so soft, so cool, so calm,
So, this is Serendip’s pastoral muse,
Far from life’s little fish-hooks, & it’s news.
*****
HEATHER LODGE
There was a time I felt compell’d to race
Round London at a hundred miles an hour,
Hopping twixt train & bus; but now my pace
To footstep slows,
For living far away
I notice, now, the needlessness of car
Walking six miles, both to & from Dunbar.
With rent I’ll pay upon my country pile,
I could afford, there, just about one room!
Blessing my zephyr with a certain smile,
Erewhile she blows
Above, the clouds grow gloom…
As, yesterday, I London would adore
Today I wake to walk the Lothian shore.
*****
SUMMER VISTA
Upon the steep slopes of Spott Dod
I sat, observing as a God
Surveys Creation all below,
Thro’ fields reflecting sommerglow
The London train creeps past a car,
The wavy mane beside Dunbar
Grew angel blue, no northern sea
In glassy, grey conformity,
But more an Adriatic Bay,
Ecstatic with this cloudless day
& I, above it, with the sheep,
Some rustic Croat half asleep,
Dreaming where men have rarely trod
Upon the steep slopes of Spott Dod.
(SR) JUNKIE FUCKS
ON
the
JUNKIE
FUCKS
of
LOWER LEITH WALK
He tried to tear the horror from himself,
Searching in the sockets of his eyes with needles
Till they burst blood
The Phoenician Woman
———-
Strophe
There’s a Junkie Fuck
Everywhere you look
: in Leith
Great Junkie Street
Five-minutes-to-midnight
Zombie-crowded cash-machines
Kids like, ‘Where’s-my-crack-pipe?’ Kinnon
Grinnin’ into school
Thinkin’ he was cool
‘I’m never injecting,’ he blusters upsetly
Blazin’ ’bout his Best Friend’s funeral:
At the Wake… to ease his grief… shoots up for first time!
His crack-whore ‘Wudya,’ works Leith Links’s edges
A posh-painted picture pick’d up by drunk dockers
While her daughter chews straws at McDonalds.
There’s a Smackie Kunt
Always on the hunt
: in Leith
********
Antistrophe
There’s a Junkie Worm
Every corner turn’d
: in Leith
The Skag is a slippery, shrieking Beast
Cunning as Fox, strong as Lion
Foul as farting Pig
Don’t listen to what they say, but how they say it,
Bullshit Defence Mechanism takes control
Insidious serpent contorting thought
How the hell can ya call it glamorous?
When glamping means begging up the North Bridge
Contemplating suicide in torn, soggy shoes
Viledom’s finest scourge Leith Walk
Piping, ‘We are young… We can handle it…’
‘…We could drop it just like that.’
There’s a Bag-Head Prick
Itching itself sick
: in Leith
********
Epode
There’s a Junkie Fool
Shuffling past yer school
: in Leith
I was twenty-one once,
Busking down Bournemouth
Boozing wi’ beggars
I’d follow’d ‘em into a nappy-dirty yard
Watching ‘em cook up their hard-earned stuff
& said, ‘I’ll have a go,’ in all innocence
‘You don’t wanna try,’ said Feathers,
‘Do I not?… alright…’ three days later
I found him overdosing in his tent
Never babysit a Smack-Head!
If you show signs of weakness they will take
& scrounge & lie & steal & take & scrounge & take &…
There’s a Junkie Shmuck
Lonely, Soul-less, Stuck
: in Leith
(SR) 7: Whittinghame
WHITTINGHAME
Somewhere out there is another little freak who will love us
& understand us and kiss our three heads and make it all better
Carrie Bradshaw
********
WHAT BLEEDS FOR FIVE DAYS & DOES NOT DIE?
She moans about her hormones every second week in four
Goes clattering the cutlery & slamming every door
Like when we yearn’d tranquiltiy, then found a paradise
But she was full of PMT & said, “it’s not THAT nice,”
Yet women are man’s reason, so when swings the pendulum
Put on your safety helmet for the fireworks to come –
She sulks & yells, her belly swells, her paranoia grows,
Now fear the snarling werewolf where you once could smell a rose,
Cos’ women synch up to the moon, thats just the way things are,
So never say “irrational,” or let her drive the car,
& if you feel frustrated in a very vocal war
Letting your lady win will just infuriate her more
But when the fun is over, son, there’s one thing you should do –
Embrace your woman, kiss her lips & whisper, “I love you!”
********
FADING LOVE
Somewhere between August & September
There was a change in Sal, she could not tell
Exactly when – a blend of alter’d vibes
& distances, where once two souls clamp’d shut;
By Halloween her love seem’d lost at sea,
The way she insisted Elsie always
Should bring her boyfriends over for dinner;
Intellectual jousting made her cringe
& who, these days, cares for Proust anyway?
Hearing the thump of jackboots on the stairs,
My heart beat fast, her temper broadside torn,
She thrust herself into the washing-up,
Crazy, confus’d, attempting to diffuse
This powderkeg beneath her paradise
Cursing, once more, her love too easy won!
********
RECRIMINATIONS
A letter lies unread on the table
Regret, so bitter-sweet in spite of fate
Waits in those inky sylphs besmudg’d by tears;
She turns her cheeks to wafting solar shards,
Screams, “No!.. No!” I will not read the letter,
Damo’s a pompous ass – no noble prince –
The way he was caressing Elsie’s hand
Indicated signs of secret kisses!
‘Our hearts began their journey beating whole
Then destiny’s perfections race away
‘Til flung upon the muck-heap with the rest…’
A memory of ours hangs off the wall
That was our happy place, but in your eyes,
When I see them mov’d on, these tears bleed hope.
********
MOODY BLUES
The spirit of romance is with us,
A man a woman & a dog,
Listening to sea-girt, violin concertos.
Weather turns unsettl’d on waters
Globs of gallivanting gulls, dancing waves
& this single black eagle…
Senses shatter’d by a drunken Seattleite,
I mean… Sally + PMT + alcohol
Equals hell-sent banshee hell-bent on fury.
Relationship psychobabble pierces nirvana
“We could have stay’d at home to have a row!” say I,
But she keeps on scowling.
I slink to the tent, leave her staring out to sea,
A fisher-widow searching for her long-drown’d love.
********
LOVE’S REPOSE
Ah Sally! Sweet Sally Cinnamon, hear!
Even now, after all that we’ve gone thro’,
From halycon highs to those awful lows,
The fact we chose to share together
Repose in Scotia’s fertile land; where fruit
Grows wild; remember gooseberries were found,
Where Falcons vie with Crows to claim the sky,
Where vista-on-vista splendidly glows
Before eyes remember them when they close,
Where Whittinghame Water flows carefree,
Free as these souls of ours; suppose they met
When they were sleeping, as windy fate blows
Life grows, so rose us from dim city streets
Like poesy from prose, come cherish this truth.
********
THE END
Woman is sacred: the woman one loves is holy
But love is only like water
Graspless when a lovers’ palm untightens
Chit-chat serious, bond about to snap
Altho’ our great, poetic love burns bright
Like Aberlard & Heliose, destin’d to be apart
It is then, as fades the sun
To the sounds of Scottish fiddle on my little radio
I am calmly dump’d
No more gladitorial slanging matches
No more hurt, no more blame, no more pain
Sally retires early,
Leaving me to write these valedictions
Thro’ long midwinter’s night
********
PINING
When I met you I caught a falling star,
Your heart it was, that whisper’d unto me,
‘I love you,’ with a tempest-sigh of breath,
This breath is gone now, like a melt of snow
That make no noise, your silence ends our joys,
For we are ever absent from the sphere
That is the intersuredness of love,
Knock upon its memorial entrance,
I’ll never get back in, my own profess
Of love like gold to airy thinness beat;
What sadness has descended on my soul!
The firmness of my being now in thrall
To some dark watcher, hover’d over days
That stretch on haunted where I’ll weep once more…
********
DANTEAN EXILE
If Whittinghame was a modern Florence
Half-parted by its very own Arno
Its little church basilican duomo
& Heather Lodge a hub of renaissance
Then, am I victim, too, of vendetta,
As the assassins knife on Darnley drew,
Curs’d by hot schemes hatched neath an ancytent yew
& lawful as a long, landlord’s letter?
& now, as Dante rode, my ways must roam
& leave behind those two loves of my life
A paradise that I could call a home
& all the soul’s completeness of a wife
Yet as I sense that poet in exile
I sense some great endeavour, then I smile!
********
LOVE’S TRUTH
As chemistry glues people together,
However great or toxic love may be,
Relinquishing the flight of the feather,
Let us ride this stormy weather, you & me.
As like that lone fuggazi on the sea
Which saw poor Shelley’s galley torn in two,
Its pilot haunted by the memory,
Oft fled in fretful thought, like me & you,
To troubl’d shells our turtle minds withdrew,
Where I observ’d thee when you were withdrawn,
Searching your soul for something bright & new
& with that search a chance to be reborn!
If that is so, my love, I shall depart,
& rest these bitter testings of this heart.
********
LEAVING EAST LOTHIAN
I came, I saw, I ceilidh’d with the Scots,
Veni… vedi… a private victory,
My lady swooning to wild lily-knots,
Oor homestead settl’d in serenity,
Soaking in Scottish sensibility,
Itching beyond mere whistle binkie bards,
I strove for all that’s good in sonnetrie,
Woodwound, museyon the New Town boulevards,
Seertitle shining thro’ the teller’s cards,
What Lothiads dolphin’d across the stage,
Sturdy as Napoleonic grognards,
Peerless as pioneers upon the page,
Another host of sonnets safe in store,
From Rydal Mounts must makars take their tour.
********
AMABANDON
My love, as with the sea & the waves & all the oceans,
Once more the tides of time have brought you to my side,
From where I now drift sadly,
Floating upon the endless waters of stretching time,
Pausing to reflect on the light of your face,
Half-a-light now, then brighter than the evening star.
So, let us set adrift for islands of soft exstasi,
Two fine liners fluttering the ocean blue,
Until the occasion we next dock in the same port,
Some shanty of Mauritius or the harbors of New York,
Bobbing together in unison, a special shared tranquility,
& our essences commingling on many a fine night upstanding!
So, until time & life’s pathways converge us once again
Remember kindly always… you are forever in my heart!
********
LEAVING LOTHIAN
I came, I saw, I ceilidh’d with the Scots,
Veni… Vedi… a private victory,
My lady swooning to wild lily-knots,
Oor homestead settl’d in serenity,
Soaking in Scottish sensibility,
Itching beyond mere whistle binkie bards,
I strove for all that’s good in sonnetrie,
Woodwound, beyond the New Town boulevards,
Seertitle shining thro’ the teller’s cards,
What Scotiads dolphin’d across the stage,
Sturdy as Napoleonic grognards,
Peerless as pioneers upon the page,
As with a host of sonnets safe in store,
From Rydal Mounts must makars take their tour.
********
ODE TO SCOTLAND
Well I’ve been here for years, but its time to do one,
I’ve sank a load of beers & I thank ye for the fun,
Spinnin’ thro hootenannies with a bonnie halean howl,
Purrin’ with pretty pussies on an m-cat prowl,
I’ve driven round Loch Lomond, walk’d five hundred miles yon Tain,
Gone roamin’ in the gloamin’ wrapped in midge-proof cellophane,
I’ve organis’d four Jock Stocks with a need to make folk dance,
& I’ve scamper’d up yer Cuillin rocks as mountain mists advance,
I’ve mused thro’ an Ediniad of sonnets, Reekie round,
The best nights that I’d ever have with best friends that I’d found,
But something in the poets’ souls must sail their craft abroad,
& leave behind the rock ‘n’ roll – when lightening the load
Gone furrowing down foreign streams, forgetting never, they,
Those places full of god-sent dreams, like Garvald ‘neath the hay.
********
DEPARTURES
As planets in their stolen orbits sway
Enraptured by the sun’s eternal day
So, too, must move the motions of the heart
& lovers from each other cleave apart,
So I shall go, some Rama far from Seeta,
Or then again, maybe I’m yet to meet her…
As Autumn’s vegetation makes decay,
Down Goldenacre-Warriston’s pathway,
I see the sun rise up on Arthur’s Seat
& silhouette the city’s spinal street;
This is, I think, a hint of things to come,
Like Sufi’s singing Sindhi to a drum.
Thus poet-prospects loading up with ore,
These feet shift forth to wherefore, & what shore?
(SR) L’Intermidi I: THE SAGA OF THE YOUNG KURT COBAIN – In Utero
L’Intermidi I
THE SAGA OF THE YOUNG KURT COBAIN: In Utero
For Matthew Waddington
They laugh at me because I’m different;
I laugh at them because they’re all the same
I close my eyes and I see my father, little girls, German Shepherds, TV news commentators, but no voluptuous pouty-lipped naked female sex kittens wincing in ecstasy. I see lizards and flipper babies.
There is a small percentage of the population who were BORN with the ability to detect injustice. They have tendencies to question injustice & to look for answers in ways consider’d by their oppressors standards to be abnormal. They have tendencies & talents in the sense that they know from an early age that thy have the gift to challenge what is expected of their future. These kids are usually hyperactive, uncontrollable brats who never know when to quit because they’re so wrapped up in whatever theyre trying to prove, that they eventually offend someone, not meaning too of course. This is good.
PART ONE
I want a hero, or an ‘anti’ one
Some mortal who could change the world with song
& moving chords, a maestro, paragon,
Whose melodies & lyrics leap along
Who’ll make us dance & think, perchance upon
A higher plane of consciousness, among
The sibilant hauteurs of humankind,
Whom, hissing, never listen – Nevermind!
Most epic poets plunge ‘in media res,’
That is ‘the middle’ for those not winning
School Latin prizes, (yes, res rhymes with ease)
But not today, with a poem spinning
On the young Kurt Cobain, if you please
I’ll begin his tale at the beginning,
For round our childhood deeds & people swarm
Which, piece-by-piece, our grown-up fabrics form.
T’would better be if humans flew like geese
Migrating come the cold & heartless rain,
Alas, when Aberdeen’s timber-mills cease
Production, all them laid-off just remain,
Devoid of great ambition, find release
In drinking, some brief respite to obtain
From drudgery, like dancing with single mums –
One day Chuck Frandenberg packs up his drums…
… & sets them up to play a dinner dance
His young ‘Beachcombers’ band the best around
Thro’ Louie Louie’s Cuban influence,
& other hits, harness a varnish’d sound –
Chuck’s sister, Wendy, took a sly half-glance,
At Don Cobain, a flash of heaven found
His eyes on her – a dream, a blur, a bed!
In Couer d’Alene, down Idaho, soon wed.
From copulation comes the miracle
Of this existence, in consistent form
If singeth Fate a song most lyrical,
The Angels bring us babies to be born –
& so, lets go, Gray’s Harbours Hospital
Already beaten-brow’d by crown of thorn
Out of a bloody uterus, thro’ hurt,
A boy for all of us, a boy call’d Kurt.
His life shall form the substance of this song
Whose mould ordain’d as Ottava Rima
In cantos of seventy stanzas long
Projected by poetical dreamer
Well, me that is, whose need to write surfs strong
Impulses, deep as the first kalima,
Reviving most poetic lives on earth
In finest lines disconfining rebirth.
A boy was born in windy Aberdeen
Among the forests, by the ceaseless sea,
Of dreary rain, of sunshine rarely seen
Of difficulties & delinquency,
Crack-rocks for breakfast, jocks lacking hygeine
& now, among them, lone starchild set free
Y’know, the ones on earth most seldom born,
Like single poppies in a plain of corn.
In the year of Nineteen Sixty-Seven
When the Beatles were crafting out Peppers,
A little angel climbd down from Heaven
Incarnating in a set of diapers,
& never were his parents forgiven
For setting his soul amidst the lepers –
That, growing up, was scourg’d by dirt-mongers…
How could they know a star-child dwells among us!
With subtle accents in her turns of tongue,
His mammy was a girl of German stock
Whose family swell’d large, where sing-a-longs
Were staples of the holidays, blonde shock
Of hair springing among them, singing songs,
Their tiny terrier til bed ‘o-clock,
When, in the limelight of his parents’ heart,
He seem’d a star already set apart!
From Carrickmore his father’s bloodline sprang
A tiny Tyrone town without pizzazz
Don’s Uncle Delbert as a tenor sang
Beside Bing Crosby, & the kings of jazz,
As Aberdeen’s grey weathers overhang,
Upon the Cobain menfolk, each bloke has
Depression, drinking problems, with the odd
Gunshot in the dark, on a date with God.
There’s nothing like loving thy first born child,
When every waking day’s a nursery
& sleeping is a myth – toys & nappies pil’d
In spating months Kurt’s curiosity
& sharpen’d perceptions would lead to wild
Excited, explosive precocity –
Whose toddling tantrums something to endure
But, damn! That kid is talented, for sure!
‘Is this a dagger‘, hallucin‘d Macbeth,
& did not Caliban, with ‘southwest blow,‘
Threaten Prospero with subhuman breath,
Thus poetry’s the place where spirits go
Like paper kites, flying ‘twixt life and death
With rich alchemic feeling, embryo
Resurrection, paints bones & blood & flesh –
So look, wee Kurt‘s been taken to a creche,
Where all who saw him wobble out, then in
Respond to his sunny disposition,
A choice wee boy rejoicing in his skin –
But there was something else, like a mission
Sent from heaven, Wendy would stroke her chin,
Watching him watching the television
Fully aware which one’s were Vietcong,
& life’s not always fair, & right from wrong.
Three years beyond the cold baptismal font,
Kurt entertains squads of aunts & uncles,
Whom, begging to babysit, with a want
Somehow bewitch’d – planets round a sun, gulls
At scraps – Arlo’s Alice’s Restaurant
& others of Simon & Garfunkles,
He sang with cherub sweetness, sheer delight
Did fill their lives with Elfin fairy-light.
Sensing a love of music in the boy
Aunt Mari bought a bass drum that became
Within a minute his favourite toy
That with a wildness none of them could tame
He’d bang & bang & bang & bang, annoy
The house & all the neighbourhood, first fame
For his performances, as marching round
The Streets of Aberdeen all heard his sound.
Aunt Mari was a musician herself
She’d gigg‘d in bars for years, even releas’d
A single, that she lifts down from a shelf
& plays it Kurt, whose love for her increas’d
“Auntie you are famous!” her little elf,
Squeez’d hard her hand, as solemn as a priest
Says, “one day I’m gonna be just like you!”
“What’s that?” “A singy star, I’ll be one too!”
“In that case you’d better listen to these…”
& carefully selecting some albums
Rewards him with Beatles & the Monkees –
In a flash a Mickey Mouse set of drums
Was his for Christmas, with a kiss, cos she’s
“The best mum in the mummyverse of mums!”
Thrash-smash-bash-crashing, splash-crashing, ev’ry day,
That by the spring was far too trash’d to play!
Each, ev’ry time Kurt’s bedroom lights did dim,
Out came his first imaginary friend,
For Boddah any bed could comfort him,
Kurt knew he would be right there to the end,
More tangible his monkey was, Chim-Chim,
On both of them, just them, could Kurt depend
For, fester’d at the gateways of his mind
He foster’d hatred for all Humankind.
& later in his bedtime, as Kurt lies
Upon his back, & to the roof did gaze
He’d talk to diff’rent people in the skies
Those ones who’d beam’d him down with lazar rays,
For he was really alien, in guise
Of human boy, concocted in the bays
Of some vast spaceship, whose parents on Earth
Adopted him, & fak’d a human birth.
As earth-days broke he woke up with a smile,
Rejoicing in the rising of each sun,
When, up & down the street, mile-after-mile
He’d ride his bike with effervescent fun;
Then, after lunch, this restless juvenile
Then plays at cowboys with a plastic gun
Til Donald look’d at Wendy, with a sneer,
“I think our boy is hyperactive, dear.”
In an age when pharmaceuticals reign
Doctors dismiss holistic vitamins
Prescribing crap that drags a wild kid sane,
But leaves them hook‘d on drugs – of ritalin’s
Properties, anti-narcoleptic brain
Like one subsum‘d by base amphetamines,
Which leaves wee Kurt awake, again, all night
Back-issue comics flicking by torchlight.
When Star Wars came to town Kurt‘s powers bloom‘d,
For he knew he was watching relations,
On Tatooine a memory exhum’d
Of visiting, with the delegation
Of some red planet (by two suns illum’d) –
But, cursing his human limitations
Kurt wish’d he could just Jedi back to base
At hyperspeeds, leave Earth, of him, no trace.
One day he gave his grandfather some art
With Donald Duck so accurately drawn
He was accus’d of tracing, so did start
Another drawing straightways! When alone
With papers, markers, comic books, apart
From other human beings, he would spawn
Aliens & monsters, from time-to-time
Added words for fun, even some that rhyme.
He watch’d the choppers rising from Saigon
& just-like-that the war in Vietnam
Was over, one they never could have won
His uncle home return’d a diff’rent man
Who, walking with his nephew, said, ‘Kurt, son
There’s not much work these parts, but if you can
Avoid the US Army, witness’d I
Such sights long sleepless nights still horrify.
One day, just to see what all the fuss is
About this guy call’d Evil Kneival,
He switches on TV… over busses,
Lorries, people – flying like the Devil!
Then, landing, stands, effortlessly faultless
Upon his bike & lands with a swivel –
This was, by far, the greatest thing to see,
From that day forward stuntman would he be.
Out came all the bedding & matresses,
Up to the roof his little bike was heav’d,
Where, prancing like some Hollywood actress,
He call’d the street so all the world believ’d –
A nervous gulp – the slope look’d treacherous,
A slide, a swoop, with balance well-retriev’d
With duvet whoomph! soft landing maketh he,
The youngest stuntman of the century!
His father was a Chevron mechanic
With neither love for learning or the learn’d,
But border’d, watching sports, on the manic
Of baseball scores grew trueliest concern’d,
& basketball he watches in nigh panic –
Each football Sunday felt his sad wife spurn’d –
“I don’t think I ever really loved him,
Most nights there’s only me & Kurt & Kim.”
All thro’ his life, blew suddenly, sea-change,
That night, all night, he heard his parents shouting,
& slamming doors, next meal-times things strain’d strange,
& now, of life‘s loveliness, Kurt‘s doubting
& no, he doesn‘t like it, as thoughts range
Cross awful possibilities – pouting
Hard, he heard the news, consum’d with hate,
His parents, on a doomsday, separate.
What is the point of living if this life
Is laid on false foundations, why, at all
Would anyone pretend they’re man & wife,
Injecting children in an urban sprawl
If all they do‘s succumb their states to strife,
Not constant be, whatever might befall –
Why can’t they just be friends & just get on –
Kurt sat, kerb-down, & cried for all that’s gone!
As moodiness hard overcame the child
The tiniest of slights would make him mad
From sleeping cat to tiger in the wild
From angel good to very-very bad;
One day his marker pen white walls defil’d –
‘I HATE mum,’ ‘I HATE dad,’ ‘I am so SAD,’
As riding out his pains & ritalin,
Around the room his brain in fits would spin.
With selfish wrists divorcing parents pour
Into our bitter childhoods cups of salt,
When, sundering our fragile system’s core,
We‘ll blame ourselves, convinc’d its all our fault,
We‘ll traumatize, with whinings, to restore
A status quo made derelict, & halt
This desperate, obliviating slide
To flaking pits where shits the Lion’s pride.
All of Kurt’s joys invert to hurt & pain,
‘He’s from a broken home’ he’d hear them quip,
Or thought he did, with prestige on the wane,
His school a purgatory he must skip,
At ten-years-old he felt his youth was slain,
As when a tarr’d hulk, turn’d to fireship,
Is set adrift towards opposing fleets –
With frozen toes he walks the lonely streets!
Kurt’s trapp’d in a world of mute dysfunction,
Where finite trees of ancient lineage,
Plunge in a plight of resource reduction,
Hampering lay-off lives, from Wishkah Bridge
Droop ropes of hanging men, dull conduction
Of closing mills, with nothing in the fridge,
The old prosperity has fall’n away,
Leaves Aberdeen tooth-aching with decay.
So where were we? ah, yes, when divided
A family still has to rear the kids
A decision anciently decided
The mums’ll get ’em, even invalids
Some might call the custom quite misguided
Others, just our link to the arachnids
When, after mating, females set a tomb
Inside their gullets, nourishing the womb.
Kurt stays with Wendy, with his sister dwells
In Aberdeen, population sixteen
Thousand, six hundred & sixty seashells
On shores where days of sun – few, far between
With nothing much to break the mundane spell
Of life in this backwater, piss-filled spleen
Of a town of ten-pin, televisions,
May parades & chainsaw competitions.
Kurt knew his mum was very beautiful
Attracting street attention, she soon found
A man to sex her from dysfunctional –
Alas, as prospers often on rebound,
She met a loser, reprehensible,
He beat her, mind & body, to the ground
Who told her son twas better if he scramm’d –
A cuntish “FUCK YOU mum!” as front-door slamm’d.
His dad moves Kurt to Montesano, where
Their prefab home truck’d to some trailer park,
That with a party was assembl’d there
Warm beers & beef & banter into dark
By morning‘s low a brand-new home to share
With his dear son, a modern Noah’s ark
Without the women folk, but with the dogs
& rodents, paradise among the logs.
Whatever young Kurt wanted Kurt soon had,
& did whatever too, his dad did teach
Him shooting, how to smile & just be glad
They lived near nature Don was no Nietzsche
But knew where to tickle his son when sad,
&, one evening, when camping down the beach
Kurt pleading, “Dad please don’t marry again?”
Says Don, “I promise, son, I won’t…” most plain.
The walk to Montesano’s High School took
Less than ten minutes, one morn, time to kill
Shortcutting thro‘ thick woods, retorting ‘fuck!’
He saw a human hanging, twisted, still…
For more-than-time Kurt stood there & just shook
Useless limbs to life, crepuscular thrill,
But nothing happen’d, suicide is real
No more to think, to drink, to stink, to feel.
Then came the day Kurt wish’d he would have stay’d
In Aberdeen, his dad fully reneg‘d
Upon his promise, just so he’d get laid –
Promptly remarried, furthermore was plagued
Step-siblingly, blood loyalties betray’d,
As when the British soldier ‘Gen’ral Haig’d’
& blindly thrust at trenches empty promis’d
Those ruthless maxim bullets did the rest.
Within a house of larger yards & bulks
This just-add-water family took root
Whose basement grew a cauldron ditch of sulks,
A pit to lock the door, shut out, refute,
This mad reality, a pile of Hulks,
Thors, Spidermen, & always this string’d lute
Whichm play’d with incredible excitement,
Expung’d the bullshit from his life’s indictment.
However much his ‘second mother’ tried
He‘d always spurn her soft felicity,
Grieving for his own family that died
Descending into animosity
He’d bully his step-brother ’til he cried
& fought his father to adversity,
Begging his mother always on the phone,
“Can I come back…” “I’m sorry son…” &…. groan…
Don tried the best he could in his own way,
I mean, some kids have never seen the face
Of their fathers, to work each Saturday
Don took his son, given the run of the place,
Kurt makes prank phone-calls, log-piles climbs at play,
The scampers to Don’s truck, his special place
Where Queen‘s ‘News of the World’ play‘d constantly
‘Til sound cuts-out when drains the battery.
Some of us born to that small percentile
Who’ll detect injustice just by instinct:
About his classrooms, searching all the while,
For someone to fit in with, make a stink
Wear a wacky haircut, a punkophile –
But nothing, no-one, all his classmates think
Kurt was the kid most likeliest to bring
An AK into school & start shooting.
Thirteen years young, live on Saturday night,
The B52s, blasting down his ear-cans
Pledging a songbird to its fledgeling flight,
A nexus point for focussing all plans
Kurt paints on sneakers little black & white
Squares, just like Fred Schneider’s checkerboard vans
& wore them, next day, proudly into school
Some laugh’d, some diss’d him, some, tho’, thought it cool.
Upon the day Kurt’s fourteen years now are,
His Uncle Chuck offers a brand new bike
Or an old electric six-string guitar
Made in Japan – well, Kurt, what would you like… –
As when whaleship see blips on a radar,
Or finger slips out of a Dutch boy’s dike –
From tranquil scenes futurity explodes
In scudding floods, ferocious overloads!
As heaven‘s manna fell on Kurt‘s lithe hands
He picks up Louie Louie, so he thought,
The one song play’d by all the North-West bands
De facto anthem, with a chunk he caught
The change of chords, the strangest plain expands
Of sounds achievable, if when them sought
He’d sit down, & with patience at his back
He’d spin each finger-fumble to a knack.
Then comes the fatal gym class, skipping rope
He trips & slips a disc, scoliosis
Evolves, a pain so rough most barely cope,
For, spinal curvature, one prognosis
There is no cure, no respite & no hope,
“I never ask’d for, I never chose this,
How can bodies transform in such strange ways,”
Mulls hurting Kurt thro‘ his painkiller haze.
His Uncle Chuck’s guitarist came along
& sat him down, & ask’d him what he knew
The boy play’d ‘Louie Louie’, got bits wrong
& was corrected there, the pair soon flew
Thro‘ three fast months, & many a new song
“My Best Friends Girl” & “Back in Black” but two,
Another‘s, “Another One Bites the Dust”
&, overall, Kurt pull‘d them off… well, just.
Kurt found himself three-chord structures strumming
& settl’d them to soft, yet metal grooves,
Then, switching rich melodies, throat humming
Sounds, internal editor approves,
& mouths their shapes, syllables keep coming
Like a lyrical instrument, that moves
Together with guitar, tapping a beat beat
With those chequerboard sneakers on his feet.
Eureka! with his special purpose found,
Or mission, even, Kurt would play & play
& play all day, experiment with sound
Grew out his hair, & practice what he‘d say
When interview’d by journalists, who’d hound
His ev’ry move, while schooling, day-by-day
Fell by the wayside, flunking ev’ry class,
Except for art & music‘s sacred mass!
To social skills & schoolwork’s detriment
Kurt practic’d his guitar, his father sat
Him down one day & on the next was sent
To join the best boys on a wrestling mat
A chance his inner furies to unvent,
A smash of shocks, a flash & down jocks crash
Transforming this shy guy from nerdy squirt
To hyper-daemonical extrovert!
Coach told Don, “Kurt’s one of the best I’ve had!
& I want him to represent the school,”
So came the match, the first made Don mad
The second shock’d, the third time felt he fool
After the fourth he storm’d out, red-fac’d, mad‚
How could the little bastard think that’s cool,
Just folding arms & getting himself pinn’d
With no resistance, his roof I’ll rescind!‘
So, back in Aberdeen, back with his mum
Too stoned for geeks, too geeky for stoners
Oblivious to fame’s fate meant to come
This maharaja king of the loners,
Now stalks the lonely sidewalks, chewing gum,
Cursing happy windows of homeowners
Kurt, snorting gas & dropping LSD,
Abus‘d his mind & rues reality…
With birthday dough Kurt bought his soul’s release,
A brand new amp beyond 11 turn’d,
With broomstick-thumps did Wendy beg surcease;
As walls & windows shook Kurt grinn’d & spurn’d
The neighbourhood, be-throttled from its peace
By constant crunchy dirge, that gurning churn’d
The manticles of panting manticore
That fills its jaws with earth – so rich, so raw!
Come summer, deepest crimson creeping west,
When witness’d from the State of Washington,
Upon the beach, when barbecues taste best,
Beside the ocean, partying, the sun
Splitting gigantic trees on ev’ry crest,
& with a sense the world could yet be won,
No wonder, here, the music of the spheres,
Descended in these halcyonic years.
Let one identify with written word
In hicksville towns, as means to them escape,
Kurt Beckett loves, & Burroughs, from the herd
They stood apart, like him, behind a drape
That kept away those carry-ons, absurd,
Of Peyton Places episodes on tape;
Of watching, judging, from life’s little slots,
Like sludge stuck in the holes of pepper pots.
One lunch-break in the school refectory
In swaggers hugest creature from elsewhere
Whose kindest smile cast contradictory
Signals – Kurt drill‘d within him, with a stare,
& felt his spirit some fun factory
Of frolicking, working so hard in there,
Yet, something else – Kris Novoselic smil’d
At Kurt, that moment two souls reconcil‘d.
His mom met Pat O’Connor, & was wed
Before the real man she realised
Who, thro‘ his life philanderingly sped,
& drinking heavily, & phantasized
But never did a thing thus promis-ed
Kurt all their ceaseless bickering despis‘d
While tempers raged & voices raisd the roof
He strumming, sat, from ma & Pat, aloof.
With no bands to watch, nor clubs to dance in,
Them both were round pegs in a dead square hole,
“Aberdeen’s a boil that just needs lancin!”
Moans Kurt, etching in trees with eager scrawl,
Sex Pistols logos – instead of romancin’
Teenage girls, torn angst would overthrall,
His essence, setting inner demons free,
Brooding for hours on the Raincoats LP.
Of all his classes only one fired Kurt
With a quotient of enthusiasm
That class was art, where with each eager spurt
His crayons convers’d with ectoplasm
The next desk on saw Krist with Shelli flirt
Teenage gigglings verging on orgasm
& all the while Kurt curs’d the radio
With negative saercasm, blow-by-blow.
Kurt woke up to another argument,
Just after dawn, Pat’s home, has tried to sneak
Back into bed, but analeptic sent
His ma, of other women Pat did reek
As, off to work, in fury, Wendy went
Their raft of marriage sprang a major leak
Of whiskey liquids swigging, glug by glug
His wife back home, Pat stood & tried a hug
“Oh fuck you!” spat Wendy, shotgun grabbing
All in a flap, Pat fearing for his life,
“Tell me who your cock has been a-dabbing
Or I’ll shoot you dead!” – luckily his wife
Couldn’t load Pat’s gun, she starts nabbing
All of his weapons, rifles, army knife
Pistols, belts of bullets bagged up & tossed
Into the Whishkah, “fuck how much they cost!”
Kurt, sharp as ever startled by the shout
Observes the goings on, each sinking gun,
So paid some local kids to fish them out,
Then took them to a dealer, deal soon done
Whose winnings, what to do with, had no doubt
Kurt bought an amp, his very first, not gone
Yet, the money, so Kurt went to buy weed
Get stoned, & jam so loudly, proud indeed!
Our children could be anything at all
Some sports obsess’d, some staunch political
Some natural parents, some hate the role,
Some heavenly & some heretical
Some total seafarers, some hometown small
While some turn out to be poetical,
Dismissing standard schooling, “What’s the point?
When knowledge reach we thro’ a reefer joint.”
A half-retarded sister of a friend,
Invites Kurt’s visit, casually stripp’d
In front of him, for she did full intend
Their union by foreplay – penis gripp’d
She guided him intercourse – which did end
The moment kurt inhal’d her kiss-breath, slipp’d
Out & away as fast as possible
Morose, remorseful, feeling horrible!
Twas during lunchbreak the rumours started
That reach’d her dad by afternoon recess
Who briefly swoon’d, like the broken-hearted
Then rose for retribution from distress
& charg’d to school, but before he’d started
His daughter’s martyrship, must acquiesece
Upon a point of law, being eighteen
Her right to give consent them pass’d between.
Kurt plung’d in karma of a different kind
The mayhem of his classmates’ spite-attacks
with ‘retard fucker’ assuaging mind
He went to lie down on some railway tracks
Cement bags on legs & ches, heard the grind
Of a train approaching fast – shrugs off sacks
& stood & dived & saved himself from death
In brambles tangl’d, & panting for breath.
Kurt went back home & cried & would not speak
& hides himself away from knock & call
& skiv’d away from school an entire week
The thought of more abuse him did appall
Until, one sleepless night, thinks ‘I’m a freak
Anyway, in all their eyes, so let’s just roll
With it, just smile & whistle, & look weird
For, after all, it’s time I grew a beard!’
Now ev’ry time Kurt swallow’d food he’d wince
& clench the muscles of his sorry guts;
It made no diff’rence, mash’d potato, mince,
Fish, soup, stew – twas death by a thousand cuts
So took to drugs these pains to ease & rinse
But not the cocaine of the cartel mutts,
Whose bright effects too sociable made Kurt
When he sought out oblivion, inert.
Kurt deems jocks vulgar brash-head idiots,
Macho oxen from the working classes
Whom, tit-for-tatty, detested faggots
In dungarees, cardigans & glasses
Them taunted were, squash’d like flies’ maggots
Whenever in the corridor one passes
Metal lockers, slamm’d against them with force
& screaming cheap expletives until hoarse!
Kurt tends now to skip school each second day,
Bored, tired, stoned, all things unfascinating,
The State has plac’d a dung heap in his way
He’s needing two years credits back-dating
Without which list of numbers, come what may,
There’s won’t be a chance of graduating
& did he even want to, he would ask
Himself when fac’d by such an awkward task.
Yes, without all those credits there’s no doubt
He’d schooling lose, but still possess’d, he, youth
Enough, & time to pass & figure out
His destiny, so High School left uncouth
His mother gave a banshee angry shout
The day she learnt the embarrassing truth
The ultimatum‘d leave or find a job
Her house, no harbour for a teenage slob.
This was the moment, should I stay, or go,
Say we stood at the sliding of the doors
To buckle down upon a rung-drop low,
With mop & bucket scrubbing someone‘s floors,
Or offer faith to our manifesto
& leave it to the Gods who‘ll only know
Which of their chosen attest invention
By forces of divine intervention
& so he hugg‘d his mum & left her home
Felt chilly at the shutting of the door,
A poet-singer with the right to roam
As erstwhile the Provencal troubadour
Thro‘ foreign courts tour‘d his conservatoire,
Sophisticated, if a tad footsore;
But that sad night Kurt got not very far
& slept, uncomfy, in some scrapsoon car.
(SR) Humanology: Youth I
1
ECOLOGY
Oceanic deadzones, deteriorating ozones,
Deforestation, plastification… EXTINCTION!
When one species fails
Another starts tottering
For every dismember’d tree
Plant identical saplings
Nihilism wastes ancyent fauna,
Shrivelling planetary lungs
Glyphosatic weed-killers poison bloodstreams
Assaulting bleeding fetuses
Preparing cattle fodder plains
Amazonia burns nightly
Reduce freight, slash emissions
Localise, de-globalise, manufacture
2
PLANETS
Ten billion, trillion terrenes
Wander uneventful Space
Does Humanity hunker alone?
Probability begs otherwise
Following countless, apocalyptical collisions
Boulders become worlds
Because magnetosphere shields ozone
Ozone cradles nature
Ignean gasses cool, liquify,
Forming shoreless oceans
Volcanic precambrianity creates tectonica
orbiting solar suzerains
Rain’s continuance sustains existence
Life’s vital ambrosia
3
EVOLUTION
From evolution to extinction
Life just is
Chemical principles manufacturing movement
Coagulate swarming bio-spheres
From Oceanity’s deepest trenches
Life first upsprings
Across scatter’d multicell’d Eukaryotes
Exoskeletons steadily harden
Universal desire implants seeds
Releasing creatures ceaselessly
Memories of mutating species
Deliver’d via DNA
Transferting strongest, survivalist genes
Life’s primal purpose
4
HUMANITY
Page after historical page
Humanity writes itself
Humanity’s harmoniously collected cohabitations
Generates collective supraconsciousness
Like flegelings learning flying
Humanity’s progress predestin’d
Of singular World Spirit
Everybody an emanation
Humanity’s alternative erectile hominids
Outfought, outthought, extinct!
Beyond Africa’s aboriginal hatchery
Neanderthal genomes meander’d
We’ve abandon’d the jungles
But not animalism
5
CIVILISATION
Humanity’s civilised esoteric schools
Dwell beside barbarianism
Common purpose unifies planets
Competition divides nations
Only brutal, barbarian force
Protects peaceful civilisation
Humanity’s vastly expanding knowledge
Spreads unprecedented transformations
Indivisible lives, interdependent existences
Humanity’s cardiovascular reverberation
Three billion solar revolutions
Protoplasma becomes scientists
Civilisation experiences imperfect consciousness
Awaiting spiritual renaissance
6
BODY
When sweaty work-outs disregarded
Natural beauty decays
What use vigorous minds
Without robust bodies
Physicicians prefer sickness prevention
Before curing afflictions
Never dismiss painful symptoms
Nature’s warning system
Happiest hearts seldom entertain
Fats, oils, intoxicants
Prevent mentality’s overheated malfunctions,
Tomorrow commences tonight
Restlessly insomniacal by night,
Daytime’s somnambulant zombie
7
FOOD
Beautiful roses might enrapture
Bread maintains life
Assemblies relishing fleshy ingestion
Resemble bloodthirsty lynch-mobs
Deem bellies flesh-stripping crematoriums
Consuming doom’d animals
Vegetarian casseroles easily appease
Barbaric bloodthirsty appetites
Without cleansing one’s mouth
Food tastes sour
Bodies emit incessant stenches
Nourishment’s accompanying phosphorescence
Kitchens collecting bickering cooks
Curdle simmering soups
8
LIVING
Among one’s cognitive tools
Deem instinct invaluable
Enjoy life’s harmless pleasures
Avoid shameful pursuits
Everybody possesses fabulous capabilities
Dismiss pissy mediocrities
Choices made when young
Cast life-long shadows
Because lethargy rots life
Harness one’s industriousness
Even littlest lives experience
Triumph & disaster
Lost in petty details
Life fritters away
9
NOBLESSE
Habitable mansions, graceful ornamentd
Nobility’s Corinthian polish
Better honest, tatty peasant
Than bitter-tongued aristocrat
Hungry lions refuse grass
Penniless aristocrats, crassness
Bruised sugarcane remains sweet
Impoverish’d nobility, noble
However unwarsteedlike one’s birth
Intellectualism raises anybody
Baronial births sometimes scoundrels
Like lunar blemishes
Swerving from unscrupulous thoughts
Ruins noble souls
10
MENTALITY
Avoiding people contemplating plots
Protects intellectual purity
Focussing mentalities upon realities
Dismisses unsubstantiated phantasies
Pure, sane, sober, just;
Posimentality’s perennial pre-requisites
Minds freed from torment
Find best decisions
Mentality’s state of mind
Defines thinking’s nature
When mastering one’s thoughts –
Beware enslaving anxieties
Enemies might harm us
Musing waywardly’s worse
11
IDENTITY
Our individualities are knots
Untying never easy
Everyday consciousness rarely reveals
Humanity’s oceanic complexities
Hidden within mysterious consciousness
Independent, incorporeal minds
Betwyx nature & nurture
Personality bounces uncontrollably
Thwarting imagination’s creative phantasies
Stunts personality’s development
Constantly frustrating basic instincts
Triggers repress’d neuroses
Because thinking shapes personality
Maintain purest thoughts
12
SPEECH
Vindictive, caustic, susurrous tongues
Brand bitter scars
Publicly announcing somebody’s faults
Unmasks one’s own
To smile, then smear
Mankind’s vilest evil
Whereas burnt flesh heals
Purulent insults septify
When calmly admonishing wrong-doers
Speak like friends
Utter not swaggering speeches
Nor censorious falsehood
When equipoise balances minds
Speeches lilt untiltingly
13
ACTION
Once an arrow releas’d
Irretrievable its flight
Idleness imitates rooted trees
Ambition, astral animation
Deeds unwish’d for oneself
Never render elsewhere
Life-changing chances rarely happen
Seize them, immediately
Eventual disinterest follows procrastination,
Neglect attracts abandonment
Without wise, vigorous enterprise
Fortune’s favours waver
Meditating action’s appropriate moment
Consecrates laudable victories
14
STUDY
Spend ten thousand hours
Mastering any artform
Selective, extensive, industrious study
Sharpens critical abilities
Because knowledge swamps studies
Choose dissertations selectively
Scrutinizing seemingly spotless research
Unearths defectiveness somewhere
Thoroughly learn one’s learning –
Then live it
Savants understand teachings’ meanings
Pedants memorize texts
Better mastering single fields
Before sampling ten
15
CONDUCT
Disdaining faults in others
Amplifies our own
Choose now – held straight?
Or stood straight?
Pass every single day
Frenzyless, unapathetic, unpretentious
Proprietous conduct obtains greatness
Impropriety, insufferable disgrace
Whenever personal errors eradicated
Self-discipline enlightens others
If unbeseeming behaviour despicable
Why reciprocate it?
Rudeness bruises one’s families
Immodesty injures ourselves
16
SOCIETY
Racism, Sexism, Ageism, Classism:
Synonyms for ignorance
Slithering bigotry poisons society
Whenever goodness slumbers
Meritocratic guilds outclass egalitarianism
Democracy transcends despotism
Mingling multitudinous human beings
Creates social consciousness
Uniform conformity – muddy pool
Diversity – skyvaulting rainbow
Creating order’d, tranquil society
Ensures personal security
Whenever Hives won’t benefit
Neither will Bees
17
COMMUNITY
Kings we can deceive
But neighbours? Never!
If neighbours’ blazes ignor’d
Infernos level villages
Father – mother – elders – teachers
Require uppermost respect
Prevent crimes against neighbours
Perhaps you’re next
Deem communality of mentalities
Humanity’s closest kinship
Isolated outcasts shunning community
Always welcome home
Love those whom Destiny
Casts us among
18
COMPOSURE
Remaining unruffl’d ensures effectivity
Even inside infernos
Like rivers swallowing stones
Composure absorbs hostility
Like cobras closing hoods
Dismiss insults instantly
Appreciating caution’s protective embrace
Eliminates unexpected calamities
When climbing narrowing treetops
Beware snapping branches
Retaliation’s pleasure passes swiftly
Forbearance praises forever
Whether pleasur’d, whether pain’d,
Remain consciously equanimous
19
PLANNING
Don’t dawdle on decisions
Deliberate, then do!
Thoroughly investigating preventable futurities
Avoids disastrous eventualities
Night’s peaceful counsel wisest
Sleep upon deliberations
Simple initiatives succeed easily
Complexity invites complications
Better measuring many times
Before cutting once!
Clever & cautious rabbits
Dig several burrows
Despite assistances of thousands
Shoddy schemes collapse
20
PERSISTENCE
Working unswervingly against resistance
Persistence’s precious insistence
Perseverance of life’s mission
Eventually brings fruition
Without knowledge? Lacking ability?
Perseverance dissolves difficulties
Dreamers labouring onwards undauntedly
Overhaul Destiny eventually
Persistence hunting slippery prey
Claims delicious suppers
Beyond rough, wrathful capewaters
Waveless bays welcome
Leaping rapidly from distresses
Reconstitutes internal harmony
(SR) Humanology: Youth II
21
FOOLISHNESS
Ignoramuses believing themselves wise
Interminable, laughable buffoons
Along weary, winding roads
Fools waste lifetimes
Cretins ignoring academic nectar
Flies preferring filth
Lunatics promote ludicrous banter
Over intellectual debate
Buffoons feigning proper knowledge
Doubted if accurate
Cretins setting houses alight
Lock themselves inside
Relentlessly pursuing impossible happenstance
Humanity’s ultimate madness
22
INTOXICANTS
Alcohol’s irrepressible, unfathomable hold
Better left unsupp’d
Boozing upsets our mothers,
But, wisemen, moreso
Voyeurs envy happy-looking drunkards
Forgetting alcohol’s vices
Boozeglugging fuels ugly arguments
Sobriety soothes situationalism
Addicts accompanying other addicts
Cultify narcotic slavery
Filthy, expensive, poisonous, pointless:
Nicotine’s flagellantine slavery
Heart-breaking heroin’s chittering monkeys –
Never trust junkies!
23
LIES
Whenever bullshit properly exposed
Aggressive self-preservation explodes
Deem no fibbing invulnerable
From truth’s inevitability
Conscious liars cause injustice
Unconscious liars, confusion
Humanity’s single, inviolable truth –
Everybody tells lies
Fearing truth’s negative consequences
People happily lie
Brilliant liars concoct explanations
Perform’d believably effortless
Equivocators constructing phoney universes
Prevaricate ambigious complexities
24
ANGER
Bullheads, by acting aggressively
Actually damage themselves
A good man’s anger
Passes very rapidly
As angers boomerang woundingly
Never speak harshnesses
Deliberators hating their enemies
Terrible choices make
Streams of normal thinking
Damm’d by fury
Letters written in ire
Toss into fires
Control, else be control’d,
Angrer’s decisions unsound!
25
BASENESS
Despite violent, public indignations
Braggarts continue regardlessly
A crooked stick throws
An awful shadow
Abhorrent, bullish, baseness builds
Personal destruction’s pyre
Happily untroubl’d by conscience
Prosper contemptible personalities
Jealous lowlives resenting success
Spread baseless accusations
Baseness assuming human form
Nature’s grotesque assemblage
Conquer one’s wickedest vices
With corresponding virtues
26
EVIL
Those who speak lies
Access every evil
Dishonesty, theft, adultery, drunkenness
Unearths life’s roots
Evil, bitter ugly souls
Better left unmet
Babies cry, horses neigh
Wanton sinners sin
Lives deviating from virtue,
Plunge into sorrowseas
Whereas immorality terrifies ascetics
Rogues remain unfazed
Torture, slavery, murder, rape;
Depravity’s poisonous fruits
27
VIRTUE
Like silversmiths removing impurities
Improve oneself meticulously
Floral scent travels metres
Virtue’s perfume miles
Wastrels procrastinating virtuous actions
Deserve today’s discomfiture
Action, by beneficial action,
Compose your lives
When vices swamp mentalities
Bearhug virtuous mindrocks
Embrace sincerity, principalise faithfulness
Dismiss mindless depravity
Good deeds done daily
Celestial stepping stones
28
PACIFISM
Hatred never conquers hatred
Only love triumphant
Life’s supreme, spotless principal:
Never advocate violence
Peaceful lives evade, forever,
Harm’s unhappy karma
Vitally timed violence unavoidable,
Overcoming uncomfortable aggressions
Shame, with blushing kindness,
Ugly, bullying thugs
Peacetime horses plough fields
Otherwise warsteeds mounted
As coachmen control carriages
Peacefulness handles anger
29
TRAVELING
Risking journeys beyond borders
Widens personal wisdom
when wandering foreign climes
Assess crossroads cautiously
Whenever conducting foreign tours
Rehearse various phrases
Central districts competitively cheap
Exclusive outskirts expensive
If surviving adventure expensive
Pay it anyway
Single lengthy tours abroad
Outeducate studious decades
When travellers fear strangers
Bemusing confusions inevitablis’d
30
WAYFARING
Journeys beckoning epic distances
Single footsteps commence
Pedestrian tours easiest featherlight
Discard superflous accoutrements
Better leave plentiful sunlight
Before pitching camps
Open road’s best office
Dismisses bullshit thought
Deem destination one thing
Journeying there, everything
Better wayfarers wander lonelily
Afore accompanying fools
Fresh places, unfamiliar people,
Massages innovative minds
31
BEFRIENDING
Courteously, upon fathers’ deaths,
Befriend their friends
When two opponents approach
Befriend one quickly
Friends of our friends
Treat as friends
Congenialities accrued at parties
Vanish come sunrise
Moonspots share lunar adulation;
Befriending illustrials beneficial
Calculating potential’s proper character
Observe their friends
Avoid, at all times,
Intimacy with ingrates
32
AMITY
Trusting strangers, doubting friends,
Breeds irredeemable sorrow
After vexing, vortexing tornados
Friendship fixes fences
Whenever intimates outstay welcomes
Call them cabs
Nemesis adversity begets positivity
Ascertaining affectionate comradeship
Extending altruistic, immutable support
Amity’s prodigal state
Confidentes ignoring one’s slanderers
Fortify unwaverable friendships
Enjoying affinity’s communal rights
Friends act uninhibitedly
33
FRIENDSHIP
Friendship’s mutual understanding crowns;
Companionship, cohabitation, conversation
Whenever friends feign absence
Phase them out
Oldest friends forever friends
However far apart
Solidest friendships sometimes end,
Ignore nostalgic appeals
Deserting one’s ruin’d friends
Burns both forever
Carefully handle calamitous friends
Like forest fires
Companions controlling themselves consummately –
Life’s foremost escorts
34
ANTIPALS
Prefer, over false friendship,
Hundreds of foes
Accompanying life’s greedy sneaks
Always ends grievingly
Dirty containers rancify food
Idiotic acquaintances, life
Base friendship’s oceanic storms
Thrash life’s voyage
When comrades turn unvirtuous
Decrease meetings increasingly
Renouncing acquaintance with fools
Life’s greatest gain
When friends become base
Cut cordiality’s cords
35
BEAUTY
Beauty mirrors inviolable truth
Myriad admirers unnecessate
As moons possess spots,
Blemishless beauty impossible
Lovely girls use looks
Ugly girls, mirrors
Unlike mental beauty’s durability
Superficial prettiness dissipates
Looks, with cosmetica cak’d,
Soon lose lustre
Long skirts collect dust
Short skirts, souls
Despite several excremental orifices
Nakedness still admired
36
LOVEGAZES
Enhaloed stunners returning glances
Unleash celestial armies
Games of tugging glances
Commence budding romances
Powers of conquering warriors
Droolworthy glances depose
We look, we pause,
We sigh, circean
Her chrysoberyls perplex me:
Celestial? Peahen? Woman?
When smiles answer gazes
Lovers become comforted
Within single, sensational seconds
Eyes reveal love
37
DATING
First dates’ developing storyboards
Spread like eclipses
Rumors assisting clandestine romances
Connect conjucraving families
Gossip increases violent passions
Society’s natural aphrodisiac
Sometimes only family gossipers
Sustain romantic dreams
Whenever adorational pleas unanswer’d
Love’s sufferings pointless
No worser furnace exists –
Passionate, unrequited love
Despite love-idols refusing overtures
Blaming them’s impossible
38
WOOING
Romantic getaways provide excitement;
Intimacy, travel, gossip!
Gently, into woozy states,
Caress wooable sensibilities
Music, incense, candlelight, comfort:
Cornerstone bewitching wooing-rooms
Conversation, cookery, chocolate, champagne:
Intensifies charming offensives
Intoxication excites sexual anticipation
Unleashing bacchanalian promiscuity
Enticingly surprising, inviting words
Demolish chastity’s lock
Cleanliness, confidence, eloquence, charm:
Captures susceptible sirens
39
FOREPLAY
Tongues bestowing succulent passion
Flickering candle flames
Like honey mixing milk
Silky lips celebrate
Sharing secret cataclysmic kisses
Earthquakes our existences
Following uberpassionate first kisses
Unfathomable consequences explode
Smooches lacking tender embrace
Flowers without fragrance
Intensively investigating paradesean pathways
Electrifies incredible copulation
Memories of wonderful nuzzlings
Nourishes uneventful days
40
COITUS
Humankind’s eterniz’d heavenliest event,
Interpenetrating mutual pleasures
Pleasurable pentasensory treasure troves
Glittering lovers discover
Flesh penetrating welcoming flesh
Yields starry magic
Sweetest multiple sensory moment –
Lovers climaxing simultaneously
Lust’s thundering battleaxe sunders
Chastity’s modest boltwork
As learning reaps learning
Sex intensifies lust
Not even iciest plunges
Cools scorching lust
(SR) The Scented Sutra I: Coupling
THE SCENTED SUTRA
Time travelling is just too dangerous…
Better that I devote myself to study
The other great mystery of the universe, women!
Doc Brown
PART 1: COUPLING
First let faith enter into your mind:
every one of them can be won:
you’ll win her, if you only set your snares
Ovid
I
TO MY READERS
Forgive, me connoisseurs, if I have err’d,
Relaying in these verses how t’entwine
With certain women, embedded in bliss;
As for the rest, if you’re sensing something,
Some certain knowing sensei in my speech,
Study this little treatise & evolve!
No longer hide your innermost desires,
Wallow not in the grieving of great love,
Nor rest thy laurels if thy love’s superb –
The master lover always woos his wives!
Perhaps you are the sycophantic type
Who never get a likeness from their sons,
Or him, tho’ rich, could not prevent the flight
Of fault-finding cuckoos unsatisfied;
Study these words – in the Swiss salons
I’m preferred to Baudelaire & Shakespeare
Scrutinized by sentiment & meter,
For, when one studies the Scented Sutra
Omnisusceptible moralities,
Once spotless, turn hornily priapic!
II
ON THE CLEANING OF THE MEMBER
My lucky lads, if life is merciful,
You’ll happen on my verses not too late!
Your member grows strong, vigorous & hard
Stood stiff enough to ply her vulvan plane
With prowess, until climax detonates
In trembling emissions of squirting sperm;
But, as women pride take in felatio
Lick-sucking on a lingam lollipop;
First clean thy lovespear, wash it from the base
Along the shaft up to the precious tip,
The part of you that deeply penetrates
The holy, purple wells of womankind;
So, which of them receives your gifts today?
Debutants have looks, ladies have technique,
Some by the country forg’d, some by the town,
Some into riches born, & some renown,
Some muted by their miseries, all these
Identical when naked on their knees!
Take a lover, run a string, take your pick,
The wolf that raids the flock will eat the best!
III
ON THE WONDER OF WOMEN
O bolt of lightning in an angel’s form!
She, the depressive actress-poet;
She, whose perfect breasts banish me from sleep;
Immeasurably my superior
With greater intuition, endurance,
Morality, self-sacrifice, courage;
I love the way she’ll think a hundred things
At once, & contradict’ry ev’ry one!
Bestowing every kind of happiness,
I love her power, grace and perfection,
Her teeth like pomegranate pips, her flesh –
Butter mellow fresh; all her gifts & charms,
Untreacherous, & with no faults to hide,
Playful in love-sports, polish’d in love’s arts,
Laughing off elaborate persuasions
Contented, just, to serve my lust’s desires
& waits, always, with a rich excitement,
The moment I return to her, then smiles,
& makes me feel just wanted, & in love!
Aye, such as she is cherish’d by all men
IV
ON THE LUST OF MEN
O women of the world, this one’s for you!
My lusty boys & I… interested!
To with thee share a moment’s sweet pleasure
We’d trade a handsome thousand-guinea steed,
To scratch illicit itches for affairs
We’d travel many days by caravan,
To unleash hungry foxes from our loins
We’d tribute bring from the Kingdom of Pan!
Imagine us, & our member’s beauty,
Unsupple in the regions ‘tween thy thighs,
Deep-delving with a desperate hunger;
With lustful men one time will not suffice,
Craving thy body ‘til strength satisfied,
If, woman, such a lustful man is yours,
Let, on thy bosom, feast his famish’d eyes,
Thy derriere, neck naked, rockpool eyes –
Do not withhold your joys, nor bashful be,
God’s will it is men should thy passions feel –
For, acting on felicitous consent,
Lovemaking is akin to Paradise!
V
ON A WOMAN’S LOOKS
A woman is the strangest of creatures!
While lambs avoid the drooling jaws of wolves
The human female dresses for hunters
(Clad in robes Parisian, praise Paris;
She’s parted her hair, so praise the parting),
Tho’ none are truly happy with their art,
Finding an imperfection none will see,
From infancy slamm’d in a gilded cage,
Bombarded by billboards, television,
Social media, glossy magazines,
Deluges of beautiful actresses
& models brilliantly manicur’d
Conducting, nay, promoting dress-up wars,
But, when a woman knows she’s looking good,
Her confidence shall shine, aye, well she knows
Her native power is her sexiness,
The way she walks & talks, & most of all
That ‘you-should-be-so-lucky,’ tease-reveal
Of cleavage glimps’d, or little hint of thigh,
Reflected in the maelstrom of his eye!
VI
PRE-SELECTION
As females shy from empty restaurants
Thinking the food must not be very good,
There is a switch in every woman’s mind
That trips when e’er she sees a man engage
In conversation with beautiful rivals
In some spot chosen cleverly by him,
Each woman studies how women respond
To ev’ry man, if attentivity
Is lacing with a fancying feeling,
For if she;s hanging on his ev’ry word
Displaying hints of clearest interest!
This is the evidentiary proof
Of socio-sexual attractiveness;
‘He must be saying something right,’ she thinks,
‘I’ve got to get to meet him!’ follows suit,
Thus, aspiring to join his admirers,
& lowering her guard in acceptance
As others have, this is your time to shine,
Finding a woman warmer to your ways
Without a single prior word exchang’d!
VII
ON WOMAN’S PERCEPTION OF MEN
Lads, to be favour’d in a woman’s eyes
Just be thyself, unless thou art a prick!
If Dionysis, lose thy vanity,
Only a lady should a goddess be,
Toss arrogance & overconfidence
In pits of undesirabilities,
Along with lies, insensitivities,
Broken promises, wayward lustfulness,
Hard-mouth’d bullying, rules heavy-handed,
Rough selfishness, pig-headedness & pride;
Remain alert anxious her whims to please,
Meld generosity, intelligenve,
Sensitivity, to thy promise slave,
Creativity, exclusivity,
Cultivating noble arts & language,
Vanity-lacking, loyal & virile,
But even when all of these traits combine,
If je ne sais quoi, the strange factor X
That passes special between two people
Is present not, then, son, give up the game!
VIII
FIRST CONTACT
Whenever a woman arouses you,
Approach her overconfident & bold,
At first encounter let the hunter feel
Entitlement, this woman should be yours;
Approach her with an intense spear-pierce beam,
Gaze in her eyes and waver not the while
It takes for her to crumble – she will sense
A proper man before her, swept away
By feelings quite surreal; now, introduce
Yourself, then take her hand, & ask her name
(Repeated in your mind several times,
Else lose the game before you have begun),
Then, as you talk with gentle easiness
Forget the face & focus on the orbs,
Send a ray directly thro’ her being
& hold it for as long as it would take
To sense her melt, as now, twyx eyes & lips
Alternating glances, imagine her
Staring at before she start’s coming
Imagine those soft lips about thy shaft!
IX
ON THE CHEMISTRY OF ATTRACTION
Like snowflakes no two couples act the same,
Each set of combinations are unique,
Tho’ patterns run like seams thro’ every one;
Of these, together-chemistry the glue
That binds us to lovers, who, duly, do
Attend to thy nights & the rites of love;
Impetuous desires, adventurous
Voyages of flesh, which underpin
This enigma of Human attraction;
Could it simply be Neanderthal genes?
In our deep, ancestral, dangerous past
Predators & rapists roam’d savannah,
Thus most will prefer a loveable rogue
Before the gentle kindness of nice guys,
A blend of both is best, when men combine
Their primal grind with sensibilities;
Be sensitive & kind in general,
But macho in emergencies, from these
You’ll find a polish’d lover in no time,
& sex, my son, the best you’ve ever had!
X
ON PREPARING THE FIRST DATE
To ask a woman out’s a major deal,
What gossip & excitement pulses hard
From catalytic invites, spending hours
& money on the premise ‘you’re the one!’
There’s nothing like mystery & absence
To whet a woman’s, ‘could you fall in love
With my soul, you-cannot-live-without-me
Kinda love; ridiculous, consuming,
Inconvenient, but marvelous love!
A text or two from you will fuel the rush,
But, where to take her? Never the ghetto,
Avoid, too, places where the old flames burn;
You cannot beat nice walka to restauranta,
Slick disco-dancing replicates good sex,
Theatre’s classy, opera’s better,
But, why not cook a meal at yours or hers,
& fill the wooing room with lights & tunes –
The bedrooms never very far away,
Whate’er transpires, as long as she’s seen thought
Permeating date-planning, she’ll be yours!
XI
FIRST DATE
Quicksilver wit! mercurial minds!
Best you believe all women may be won,
But in the minefield of the dating game
Pits hide sharp stakes where bleed our dreams of love;
& so, my sons, this Scented Sutra heed,
Ev’ry detail of your date together
Awaits a deep dissection with her pals;
So stay alert, as soon as you have met,
Offer honest praise to glaze her outfit,
&, don’t forget that smiling‘s contagious!
From then, tis how she feels that counts the most,
Not what the date has cost, propitious be,
& chivalrous, & courteous, & calm,
A loud-mouth braggart brat‘s a beastly bore,
Say her face is fair, her eyes are like skies,
Family tales – she might join yours one day,
Exotic trips – the next one might be hers,
But never yammer on about yourself,
Nor trash-talk other people, when she speaks
Listen keen, never grunt, nor responses nod,
But don’t agree with everything she says,
No woman wants a boring sycophant!
XII
ON INITIATING TOUCH
The stage is set, the denouement draws near;
Hold fast the stricken fish caught on thy hook!
Now is the time to pounce upon your prey,
Less lunging lynx, more kitten pawing mouse;
Gaze in her eyes, then lips, then back to eyes,
Now to her lips, & think them lock’d with yours,
Words from thy lips act aphrodisiac,
Her G-spot’s in her innuendo ears,
Even the sassiest bitch-shield can crack,
Even the purest creature in the world
Will burst excited at a killer line,
Now bridge the gap of physicality,
Setting the stage for contact more profound!
A gentle, little tap upon her hand,
No longer than two seconds, to ensure
Initiated trust, escalating
Each woman to a primal decision,
When, if she speaks, & leans in with a touch,
Allow yourself to want her, then she’ll feel
Excitement only coitus satisfies
- ← Previous
- 1
- 2
- 3
- Next →
Mumble Words 