GOOD AND EVIL

Evil is the Great Magician
which blinds the inner vision
the painting on its face
disorientates the eye,
the quickness of its hand through space
deceives the sly.

The conjuror peddles his illusions,
the world his backdrop and his stage,
his victims, living beings enmeshed in their delusions
who find their thoughts become a living cage.
They end as karmic prisoners like the living dead
trussed in silken thoughts made of magic spider’s thread.

Goodness is the golden key
which shows your face to me
which seeks what’s true
and shows my face to you;
unlocks the heart of everyman
and sets his spirit free.

 

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USE IT AND BE RIGHT

I wish I was a millionaire
could take it all and give it you
and you and you
and you and you and you
and send you off to let you do
just what it is you want to.

Use it and be right.

And so they left the millionaire
and all went off to everywhere
to do
just what they wanted to.

Use it and be right.

They went. They worked. They played. They slept.
They won. They lost. They laughed. They wept.

From joy and pain
came back again.

One came back in a wooden box
six foot long and bones were its locks.
One came back in a miser’s fist
with fingers growing through the palm.
One came back with the peaceful eyes
of those who have never done any harm.
One came back with a crowd of friends
and a fountain of laughter that never ends.

But one came back as a star in the sky
which twinkled and smiled as it floated by.

 

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HIM, HER AND THEM

A bare chest
is a cooler way
on a hot day
than a string vest.

Her husband’s pain’s a sword.
And, again,
though she sees and feels for him
and keeps her love
and cooks his meals for him,
she is bored.

It’s hard to be free
no matter what you see;
something to do with the guts
or too many ifs and buts.

 

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I, ME, MINE

In the Beginning
(or perhaps a little later)
there was I.

And then, because I was lonely,
there was me.

And we got on like a house on fire!
And, so that we could have something in common,
there was mine.
And we got on like a house on fire.
(Very much like a house on fire!)

And then you came along
and spoilt everything
because you wanted yours;
and what you called yours
was actually mine.

And to make matters worse,
you brought him with you;
and he wanted his.

And although he could have shared yours,
he didn’t. He wanted it all to himself.
And he wanted mine.

And so it all went wrong.
There was the Spanish Armada
and the French Revolution
and the Second World War
and Vietnam
and Tony Blair
and it’s all such a mess!

And yet, it started out so well!

 

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YOU ARE AT PEACE

You are at peace
and someone comes,
thoughtless not unkind,
and jogs you with his moment;
demands your recognition,
your admission,
your consent
to his place in your mind.

What do you do?
What harm has he done
to you?
What calm had you won
and no room for him inside?

 

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JUNE

A dry June
and roses and honeysuckle
tumble in riotous flower
down the path, below the gate,
in anticipation of drought.

They rush slowly
(keeping vegetable time)
towards the battlefield
of fern and bramble
which flows,
inconclusively,
to the cliff edge.
Beyond, the sea.

The mind takes on the colour
of what it shines through.
What it shines through
are the products of mind itself
from all our yesterdays.
This is the dance
of the mind
with its creations
(eternity with the products of time);
a slow and formal cosmic dance
to the silent music of the void.
This wonderful and mechanistic dance
flows on because the dancers
are somnambulant.
Who will wake them?

The Palm trees
have flowered
for the first time;
pushing ungainly spikes
skywards
in sprays of flowers like jasmine.

Paint a tiger
on the wall.
Turn and run
(in case it catches you).

 

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TO THE BELIEVERS IN OUR GOVERNMENTS

Do you really think the others
are any less stupid than you?

All history is prejudiced and gossipy,
all science misuse of the misunderstood.

But nobody waits to understand.
There is no time
jump on
use it
you can’t refuse it
it’ll make you happy
whatsitmatter whatitsfor?

A clumsy reaper might drop his scythe,
put out an eye,
bad luck.
A clumsy airman might drop his bomb,
put out his civilisation,
bad luck.

 

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