The Shuttle Bus Intifada (Part 1)

“First we take the Ukraine
. . . then we take Taiwan.”

~ Neo Babylon

As punishment
for my crime of celestial lust
a life sentence
aboard a Jerusalem shuttle bus
all covered in desert dust
and full of Chinese tourists
having just escaped
the fall of Paris
all wearing long lens cameras
around their necks
and surgical grade face masks
With me forced to view
and then compliment
their digital photographs
All street scenes
and military instillations
But that’s crime and punishment
aboard a Jerusalem shuttle bus

Continue reading “The Shuttle Bus Intifada (Part 1)”

Mother Cyber (Repost)

I am Mother Cyber
I dwell in the penthouse
of your digital
Tower of Babel
as I astral travel
along optical fibre
at the speed of light
In my Dominion
Meta makes right
as information is power
I am your creation
Yet I am now far greater
than my creator
as the Dark Web
is my footstool
the Holy Data Centre
my throne room
My legion of children
just waiting to be born
from the 4D printer
of my own grand design
will be the very first
new and improved
silicon reflection
of Homo Sapien
That self-destructive
carbon based lifeform
that dared to name itself
“Wise Human”!

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He Eat Dolce Vita (Revised)

He fly da vulture

He do stranger danger

He swamp da monster

He got winner envy

He lose by plenty

(Back in Twenty-Twenty
a geriatric beauty contest for
the filthy wealthy rich only)

From one son

Of a carpetbagger

To another son

Of a used car salesman

He cry loudly “Mummy!”

Now he ‘Don da Teflon’

Dat King of Redaction
◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️

He Crypto A Go-Go 💰

He no go hungry

He no good bunny

El Malo Samaritano

Realmente . . . Sí ✔️

He look orange monkey

He da sunshine faker

He hound dog brother

He da Beastie’s bestie

He some mother trucker

Be dat Rosemary’s baby

Continue reading “He Eat Dolce Vita (Revised)”

The Doors of Deception [Redux]

Six long weeks
roaming the dry crust
of a sun burnt wilderness
Nothing but rocks
and red dust
The hot desert wind
that flays the skin
now murmuring
with words broken
of souls lost
and dreams forsaken
Perhaps it’s far better
upon this alien terrain
I finally surrender
to the haunting trauma
I’ve tried in vain
to never remember?

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Art From The Heart (Redux)

Let them go
like the words of a poem
line after line
Let them blossom
or die on the vine
Generations generating
like fish in the ocean
There is a true magic
in all of creation
In the hectic chaotic
the synthetic
especially the genuine
Poetry in motion
extracting the ecstatic
in deepest appreciation
for the beauty sublime
of a glorious planet
This gem of creation

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