Death By Internet

Humans have always been

Social

Like

Um

Humans have always

Needed

Water to live.

But maybe humans

are doing

too much

social

And it’s

Killing ’em

Like

Too much

Water

Is a little

Um

Detrimental.

We done radicalise ourselves

I remember
Peace.
Calm.
When we all basically got on.
You right wing,
Me Left
You woman
Me man
Me black
You white
But generally
Apart from the extremes
We were all cool
As cool can be.

Then came the internet
The reverberation
Of our own views
Against the walls
We built for ourselves
Strengthening division
Increasing hate

Our anger –
Directed at others
Bounced right off
And attacked the sweet souls
Of ourselves

Turned us into ogres
Deformities of what we used to be

And what do ogres do?
We grunt
And club at each other
The once sophisticated
Repartée of sapiens (homo)
An ancestral memory

We gird our ogre loins
And prepare for war.

Representin’

(for Kate Salisbury)

Snoop once opined
‘I’m not down
With the Republicans
Or the Democrats’
He concluded
With a flourish:
‘I represent the
Gangsta Party’.

Dear Mr Dogg,
While I cannot be said to
Share your sentiments,
I dig your flow.
I too am not ‘down’
With any of the
Political organisations which
Like oiled and powerful
Engines
Are stepping up several gears;
Operating mode switched
To election
Pumping out
Noxious propaganda.

I do however
Represent peace
Joy and music
Dance and smiles
Exchanges with strangers
Laughter
And love.
Kindness.

And I’ll vote
For any individual
Person –
Not party –
Who represents that
Too

What Times We Live In

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BoxSetAndIntoYourRealLifeAndWhenItDoesYouWillBe
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WillSeeClearlyTheMistakesYouMadeWhichLedYouToThis
PointButIt’llBeTooLateThenPerhapsYouWillLookBackAnd
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What times we live in.

No Nothing

I have no
Reputation
I have no readers
I have no image
I have no earnings
I have no flow
Or identity.
I have no clique,
No posse have I
I am not reviewed
Or commented upon
I do not exist
In the mind of tastemakers
I am ignored
Am I a poet?
I am artistically
Transparent
I am nothing
No-one:
No nothing.

Yet still,
I write.

Cohort

We were
Thrown
Together
Children
Together
So strange
Getting to know
Strangers.
We grew
Got cool
Adopted the fashions
Of our times
Hairstyles
And jeans
Our names reflected
Our era
Gary-Sharon-Tracey
Amit-Leroy-Dave
Jackie.
Our era
My cohort.
I learned about obscure
Rock from you
Kiss – UFO – Bowie
You learned reggae
Dub and funk
Then we flew
All off to our lives
Some created new young families
Others to university and success.
I see you now
You don’t recognise me
But I know you are
My cohort.
Though weary lined and grey
I still detect the remnants of
Your youthful smile
I imagine your hair
In the Farrah Fawcett curl
Know the songs you love
The television memories
Imprinted in your mind
We are disparate, different
And strange
But in another way we are one
You recognise me.
I recognise you.
We are
Cohort.

Be Cool

For Joel Dinnerstein

I’m walking
Through the valley
Of the shadow
Europe volcanic
Once more
Spitting hot
Xenophobic bile

Ce Europe
Est nouveau

The last time
The continent got salty
It was white-on-white
Black and white
Folks mixed in America
Mainly
And badly at that.
The sons and daughters
Of slaves
Derived a code to survive.
It was a folk thing
One had to be hip
To it
To be wise

A philosophy
Complex and elegant
Yet viewed through the
Thick distorting
Eye glasses of
Hate
It was dismissed as
Simple
Irrelevant

This philosophy
Enabled human
Spirits to survive
A four hundred
Year holocaust
And come up
Laughing
Dancing
Creating
Rooted and
Centred in
An unshakeable
Gestalt
That saw them
Through
As it might
See us
All through
The troubles
Likely
Ahead.

Therefore,
Be cool.