A f t e r A l g e r n o n 


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A f t e r A l g e r n o n

O Spring what lutes heard in yellow
From the golden sighs of youth
Lost and drunk on lips and eyelids
That now have no remembrance

And how our sleeves beg for beauty
If not the Ballad of life once again
Or that flesh that dwindles each decade
Or skin that grows new lines and

Muscles that find in time little praise
Where went lovers and passion
Whose laughter and magic
Felt so intense as if a grievous thing?

O Spring what have you done
Under your breath to us
O smitten lips, O sinful having breasts
O erotic flattery and temptation’s bell

How the passage of her days
Have made us less brave, less apt
To carry our taunt flesh in raiments
Woven with the mirth of curiosity

So we must go on, in gracious last days
Remembering dreams of fair maidens
And flowers as if we lived yesterday
The gold raiment of starkest youth

And bravest obstacles to win a secret
In how we came and parted our loves
How we kissed, embraced and bowed
All our noblest parts bruised and soul-caught

Now we must take our marigold leave
From all these shelters and insincere hands
To let the love of righteous adventures
Find peace in the spoilt gold of our minds.

S l a v e r y to a Fake Future Reality #amwriting #revolution #policestate #matrix


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S l a v e r y to a Fake Future Reality

What of the study of realism
In a world becoming simulative
How can we tempt the children
With reality, when they are lost
In augmented virtuality?

An angel’s lips to kiss, we think,
But not a girl by their side
No flower-bells to haunt

Only designer babies I am afraid
Who are the masters of machines
More intelligent than them
What of the future, when
Revolution will be improbable, impossible

For the elite will be the state
And democracy will all-trodden blink
For men who as youth know they

Will never own a job or be possessed
By the kind of value their grandparents
Took for granted, is this real then?
This economy where a few profit
For the sacrifice of the many

Where every nation is in debt
And every house is over-priced
What of the study of realism

It has become a lost art
And loveliest of art and poetry
Goes unseen, unheard and unread.

Silver T e a r in your P a l m


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Silver T e a r in your P a l m

I can’t remember the tale
Of your sacrifice, I’ve seen
So much tragedy in history
That before the story ended

I turned away, aware, preferring
The fables we tell ourselves
Stories recited by grandparents
Felt more believable

I had held your palm
With splinters of revolutions
Most did not do anything
To bring the times forward

I recalled how you let your hands be held
As if our little measures of
Tenderness, could save us
But we knew what was coming

It’s hard to remember the future
But we could feel it in our bones
It was extinction or change
And there were moments like that

In evolution, they would arrive
At our door pivotal and in those
Circumstances, our destinies seem
Made and sung by other actors

Our Wills bend to the times
The predictive analytics told us
All we needed to know, those
Algorithms didn’t fail, had no error

So I did what a young person does
When he’s given an opportunity
To show how mature he has become
I kissed you, as if there was no tomorrow.

Your Beauty burned and wrought me gently 


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Your Beauty burned and wrought me gently

You were all loveliness to me
And so it remains, the hard seed
Of light love, the greatest spark

Humans can experience, the luminescent
Giver-of-Dreams, my dear it was you
The Spring’s echo of echoes
Whose single note
Broke all chains, redressed all horizons

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That and a wistful silence
That surrounded your beautiful spirit
Carrying your intelligence

Like a song, a vibrating muted symphony
Of decades of creativity
You were all loveliness to me
And the love to which
I am most devoted to, return most often

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In private thoughts, which linger
Like the blossoming fragrance
Of my favourite trees, shrubs, flowers

That I recognize in each Spring
And in the people that have
Something resembling your flame
I was burned, invisible
Spare us no loveliness, life

Give it to us all in equal measure
With degrees of the purest joys.

Spring Tingle


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Spring Tingle

I touched a seed of spring in glory’s afternoon
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The souls of May looked happy
Before new buds took flight
And saw the fertile Moon a crescent hung
I did not speak but stopped to pray
To life, and nodded, to wistful stars
With the full humility of arrogance
I was glad to be alive so
I was captured by a moment in Spring
Immortalized with the sensuality
I too could feel the wombs of flowers
And be moved like the pangs of the young.

Spring’s Blue Sky Pales to Lemon 


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Spring’s Blue Sky Pales to Lemon

These days are fresh
Like being washed in May
I’m the smell of Tulips

Sunshine pours the Spring into me
I’m cleaved by bright light
And water is my jewel of skin
I am greenish-white in youth
The day is too lovely to bear

I’m walking down it
With a high blue sky to stare
And I have an audience

With beautiful people
Near me, walking passed me
I’m at the breakfast table
Of life, wished well with
Tendering tastes and smells and colors

The fresh-washed sunlight
Is cooking happiness in me
My heart a warm glad clap

Of coffee-cup stream
A thin spiral of cathedral liquid stained
Reflections on my body
Speaking yellow, green and blue
I skid the dust and wind that flirts

With bare ankles and the water-cart
Of bodies, fresh from their
Crimson split sighs of coming out

At the tap-tap of the season
Jarring jasmine above rose-coloured skirts
The flesh that rings the quiet and the high
Nature’s fresh-washed air of clean
Feeling midday flares, the shudder

Of blurring pleasure with nameless joys
This is it, gold blind tips of context
Floods of flame for new bodies

The flesh cascading again eddies of light
That quiver, drop and smile
Till the unruffled night plans a gleam
Of electric signals and tantalizes
The sound of wind in trees

The city alive with tulips bare-breasted
With the buds and flowers
That are so tranquil and friendly.