Aug 5, 2016
Success is Failure
I’ve tried to murder myself
in my poetry an indulgent number
of times,
With each success proving a failure as
the writer is still alive.
Calm-Neuf
05/08/2016
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Philippines
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from Colombia
seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from Belgium
seen from Russia
seen from United States
Success is Failure
I’ve tried to murder myself
in my poetry an indulgent number
of times,
With each success proving a failure as
the writer is still alive.
Calm-Neuf
05/08/2016
Potential (Further)
Through the eyes of the son
When son is aged (potential father)
Sees potential unfulfilled
For the father (though he doesn’t know his son)
Is the father who son still grew from.
/
As the eyes see upside down, leaving image
to be corrected by the mind
So too does the son see himself out of line
Until realisation acts as brain with eye
To realign the son with the father
So that son might realise that these faults
belong to the father
They are kin not kind
/
See through the eyes of the father
So you might not be blind
To the faults, fears and frets
Belonging to childhood,
yet steering adult life.
14/07/2016
Calm-Neuf
Sword or Snake
It’s a small truth
That putting hand in velvet bag
Is unlikely to pull out
sword or snake
Instead hand will find
As straining fingers flick the bottom
Velvet base of velvet bag
Neither prize nor poison
Calm-Neuf
11/12/2015
In Court
In court nice, bright and early With little attention, authority sits behind the bench Sentencing can begin after morning coffee Dry lips on napkin, leave brown smudge on cloth Discarded, after, like the life in the dock In and out like a simple equation: This man is guilty, pull hands, slam face on desk Drag him out, another coffee, ready to assess the rest
Calm-Neuf
26/07/2015
Hunger
The rage, and the hunger You don't act on it, but you wonder And it burrows and it thunders Until a lightning bolt forms And strikes, and strikes and strikes And you become a wonder Or something quite ugly The strike of lightening Born of a most human hunger Clapping and breaking Dark then illuminating Outside then excavating Until you are what you are
How dreadful and scary That the stomach when unfed Eats itself instead And in this way, when the rage burns brightest You eat yourself Until your now exposed core Is no longer safe, is no longer someplace you can hide in
You are yourself For better or for worse And you must deal with the hunger The rage, shame, joy and hurt Until no longer suppressed, the animal unearthed A hyena smells food, does it squeal or search?
Calm-Neuf
09/10/2012
Grimace
Grimace, show self-hate repeat Complain, complain, condemn Apologise then repeat Always repeat For in this cycle you are both Pilgrim and God And as God you choose To hate the sin not sinner Hate the sin not the sinner And you grimace Not because you hate what you Do But because Your discontent says that you are not the sin Your discontent shows a pity and a disdain for circumstances As though it’s a shame things cannot be different What more can one expect, from one who self-supplicates? A Pilgrim God Who walks on coals Pretending to feel aching and hurt
Pilgrim You want the God inside of you To know That he should hate the sin Hate the sin Grimace Repeat
Calm-Neuf
09/04/2013
Second Person
We use the second person to instruct From to and you and you and to To talk to you, and tell you what to do It has little other use It has little of flavour Than to pickle or poison, than to target and teach lessons The second person is a personality Secondary to everything said Secondary to every story told in first, present past, future or any discernible tense
Secondary to loving, living, lying and sleeping Secondary to everything there is a second person Sending instruction, coordinating everything thought, felt, done; telling you what to do. Telling you what to do.
Calm-Neuf
11/09/2015
Vanity
I know what you think you are: Yellowed milk soured in the sun Starting to curdle, so curdled it crumbles to touch.
Yes I know what you think you are: A self-absorbed Neanderthal caught up in corrupt afterthoughts of last afternoons unimportant regrets. I know what you think you are
Yes I know that the things you think could fill buckets too heavy to hold one handed, and yet still you’d try. Thoughtlessly lifting with the right as the left cleans your brow in sullen disbelief
Calm-Neuf
23/06/2015