I pulled these words into chunks last night, today i intended to post them, but paused after hearing that the great activist poet John Trudell had passed. On second thoughts i should post these chunks as is, mistakes and all, and dedicate them to John. Peace.
remote like far away
or under control
a human eye
foreground back
ground
skynet caught moon
with the hand
firefly glow
pupil
glass marble yellow
rockpool potted squid
post digi
stuffed wheat ego
wear he go
into pavement
grey lid dustbins
wet steel blue electric
faded digital prints
the crash the war
the crash the war
and over until value
depleted in the minds of
the people
boring
perhaps zen will catch on?
more than boring
horrific to my mind
the masses blood lust
the chicken hawks and
pro killers in remote hawks
made boring by firegusting
incomprehensible
new media
reducing war to a fight
for a games system
a memes system console
viral flash bang know how
is king
for today
king needs consoling
tomorrow the
toffee banana squid
returns to dazzle tank to
wowwow those projections
in your pink face
sucking
sweets glazed soft cracked
azure tango blackcurrent
dancing in airspace
airstrikes of colour
kapow
rainbow boom bop
over the top sherbert
with lemon grind
pouring out gun barrels
cheescake sauce
dripping from missile cases
oozing like lava into hungry
mouths of suited hoglizards
licking cold white metal
shells with their fat
pink tongues
tanks full of strawberry
jam explode
pushing soldiers out the hatch
laughing as they land with a soft
rolled jammy jacket of strawberry
lamb cushion
bullets: stop the metal
start sponge bullets
gel in turquoize
see-through layers
back-forground
in between look
waterfall of digital empires
business driven into the floor
outlived over and over
which tribe do you choose today
collective maddness
spreading viral shadows
empty just after reading
gone like a thief in the night
someday found
drowned in the torrent
a washed up novelty
again giant
handgranades full of petals
rockets made from marshmallow
bullets of flompystuff
tough to sweeten the killings
in the name of mad profits
spongecake headed politicians?
for arms tradespeople
those who profit from wars
bombing killing and pain
parasites and the leading
urnaium tipped
edge of modern
capitalism
"go get them contracts boys
suck a cock
do not question me
we need a new war
every week you scumbags"
lights dim with thought darkly
cloud and lightning
tongues snap like snakes
poison darts fly
curses black magic and
prayer congeal
metal and explosives
fling apart things that rip
flesh and bone no
discretion of age sex race
social status
killing kills all in vicinity
land mine your own mind
step on a bomb and blow
your stupid fucking brain
to smithereens
bits and bytes in synapses
beyond words and pictures
the pain
to explain the game again and again
seeing the planet
whole agiain like
holiday postcard images
always and without concrete
steel and glass cities
beyond the digital castle door
into the crypt
into the crypt
under the floor
see through the mess we made
and out the surf tunnel
full of waste
grasping plastic tesco bags
cola cans and mcdonals litter
out the surf
grasping for the sun
flying out again post
digital
fully knietworked and
unique and trained for change
constant one and only
after 2030
survival and innovation
ability to share pathways
calm with improbability
heal by using awe of possibility
choices
room for a thousand
narrative voices
to negotiate an agreement
obviously beneficial
to all parties
food clothing shelter
seat in global
village
local super nature kids
the scene goes black grey
cold water on gunmetal
street lights bounce from glasses
to gun briefcase car and keyring
keen blue laser beams shoot
camera pans backwards
outwards
the cityscape loud with sirens
fire in the sky
rats in the street teeth white
boots polished snapping
arms and legs of homeless folk
and up higher into the sky
we see small missiles
leave an arch in the cold air
off toward the middle east
we follow the bomb
like a chanpange cork
the missile charges high
above europe
christmissile time
the target tracked by
drones built nearby
by university graduates who
love skrillex
locked into jinglehellfire
reins down on the rooftops
thousands immediately
die of incineration
thousands more blown
apart
sights once viewed
non erasable
human waste
wasted by some sick
warmachine
trick shop of horrors
who makes this made up stuff up
and do real killing stuff
the propagandist puppet
front mask moment has come
acrillic figa ink on the run
statues made from body parts
in bronze gold and silver
real portrale of casualties
at the public expense
now birds of paradise
burst from their crafted ears
in slow motion
flapping against the dying sunlight
each bird
exhibits beauty of feather
eye beak and breast
a quality-street box of disco
feather colours
not a joke but a
disruption of the
plain old
truth illusions
angry men and fussy women
in support of a war machine
fueled by hatred
misguided weapons
to bomb sanity
to pieces
man machine mind
war-headed bastards
after thousands of years
of fighting
many still remain
locked in violent battle
Godfather and Mario
Puzzo
revenge over again
retaliation
retribution and
inability to figure out
another way
the scicilian ways
like the last wild panda bear
fighting to the death
over bamboo shoots
and chess
and Dyonysis
networked with natures' god
plugged into
ayahuasca-twitter?
to hum a lullaby
we all need to hear that
calling calling cali
a call to imagination
unity city to city
camp to camp
shoulder shoulder
joining arms
inspire with tales to
tell again
the dog that
saved a baby girl from fire
a horse that caught
a falling princess
the bee that stung a
kings nose
dawn nears
lights flicker the webticms over
splutters a hurricane of
ads spy operations and
brainwashing gear
any heads left are tuned out
inner-space where
neuro engineers coagulate
for the rights to remain
unpredictable
maybelogic genes
memes and equations
tricky with such unpredictable
dot dot dot
here lies the
illusion of some truth
seeping from a gas grenade
consciousness like
chasing willow the whisp
a village gone
now virtual existence only
in camera footage of destruction
blown apart into pieces
meaning mangled
gone
among the dead bodies
the ancestors crawl too
in dingy caves on hands and knees
just to catch a rat to feed
a dying mother and father
a dying culture awaits on
the otherside of the glazed red
mountain five days treck
back with only a few
rats and some dog meat
the camera cuts to a family
huddled in a cave
smoke in the distance signals
the death cult is close
death cult in the air
on the ground and in the water
death cult the destroyer of
worlds the ultra mangler of meaning
missguded vile masters
of war
may you rot with the
bodies of your victims
the share holders and super rich
wealthy war sports personalities
and hench men
those who forget to teach
the way it used to be
and what we can do to claim
something back
not least culture
here we stand
at the end of digital
rot and roll
fly agaric 23
a name to signify
a species of fungus
beneath a tree in 2023
revision of timewave zero
end of moores law again
end of silicon based chips
end of 3D and parallel fish-tech
post digital wasteland
re-ezdit
what you thought
fungus grow on deathbeds
signifying the shitty cycle
fuck your war
fuck our war
fuck my war
fuck the war
warships sail toward
each other shooting
hand painted
greetings in socks
missiles hurtle toward
local islands droping
seeds and nutrients to help
stabalize any inbalance
due to previous mishandling
2015 years too late
human violence to each other
must decompose like
funghi all around
barbacued fast
on your plate
does it trouble you to
watch all friends and family
die slowly
to turn the imagination
sideways on mass killings
compared to doctors
killing patients with wrong
prescriptions drugs
the terrorists are
your best mates but
statistics always were a
motherfucker
the drama and cop gun
kung fu of terror pricks
plots foiled and deployed
on screen or in street
bang boom of it
the drama rules
of the rough knuckleheaded
grey seas of popular
unquestioning sleeping dicks
nightmare of history
over a-fucking-gain
are you kidding me
inside my head are you
serious again fuck me
here in this writing
to capture reader
with a stagnant ballbag of
outmoded blog
no image or gif
flipping past
skim the fat
the fact floats or sinks
shake em' out now
half caught in a TV show
half conversation
not all fully here but
somewhat outside
waking life
floating about social
media messages
recalled in mind
imaginary responses to
half remembered
broken paragraphs
splintered glasses and
icicle shards in purple wax
honey mead and feathers
fusion earth blue to
heart red the beat
blast of comfort my hand
here
pulse of nobody
a strangers rhythm
7 billion strong kidd
pull down the digital
curtains of thy vanity
soil and water
leaf and flower pull through
dreamers tarmac road
cone perception now
puuuussshhhhh
white and orange cones
misdirect mind missiles
in the wrong directions
strike back
with violent force
"teach them lesson
they will never forget"
scorpion thinks
fighting without fighting
overlooked too advanced
over the lumphead of a lumphead
the cold war game of
military build up
to feed the financiers and
backers over and over
and over again
too complicated for X-Factor goons
when will they ever learn
when shall we rise up
when will i stop writing this shit
when...
old stones
berries brews and
starlight twinkle dazzle
crinkle of fern
frosted hands cup the juice
no word scripture or orders
follow the inner path
drink
back to claymo worlds
back to imagine
trained to give benefit of doubt
yet going further
the joke
the fucking joke
to stay cheerful
grateful and think up
funny stuff is a weapon
without boundaries
like a suicide bomber
without explosives
but vegan sausages strapped
around his chest
a rucksack full of
baps and
boom 72 vegan delights
flipped script like a
hotdog
crass to some
slightly amusing to others
a tiny nuke hidden
up David Cameron's asshole
going off
blood shit
and tory guts gushing
need an army of pool
attendants to clean this mess
after they speak
the vomit of war
fill oceans
to pretend to not see
the bait of the shootings
and timing of the escalation
like a hooded man
driving a nuclear submarine
into a city dock at full speed
shit's seriously
rudderlessly
outof control
man
stop!
which
as i was saying
can be a good thing
23 percent chaos
enough to play with
remain sane and
dedicated
questioning and
willing to always accept
new data
like a scientist
unphased by the giant dickheads
crunch of hitech corporations
they will crumble into
nano dustweiners
when the dusk settles
metals and
vegetables are naturally
abundant and will abide
the boredom sets in
and the majority using
innovation and quick
feedback response
may begin to take back
the crappy crown
let me begin
with....
Steve Fly 33.
