Long Huxley Poems

I hope I know what is healthy sex,
in an experiential kind of way,
and a trans-biblical swell known sway,
and I can imagine a world with healthier,
more cooperative, politically empowering days,
but I am clueless about healthy religion,
which...

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"How Huxley Sees the World"



He composes his world -
dream extractions
simulated from 
the surreal reality of man
colour cognitive from the dead moments
we phantomise to life in sleep
electric light colour bursts forth 
from a perspective unique
a hare...

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This is a Crown of Sonnets I wrote about one of my favorite books and movies (the version in 1943 with Liz Taylor, who was only 11 had a small role, Joan Fontaine and Orson...

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"The Broken Valkyrie"



when 
the artificial 
sun 
replaced 
true Light,
revolution 
was a forgotten 
Valkyrie, 
Liberty 
had been 
put to bed
broken whore 
of Babylon
no longer holding
the torch for anyone;

women and men 
grew to love 
their servitude,
complacency 
skewered...

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Frustration

These days my frustration is digital in that `Brave New World'
                        ...

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In a sense everything is a seed of it's successor
The universe is change, life is judgement
Those aren't my words, they're a famous author
The rest of these are and what I think he meant
Before you demur...

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“The Waiting” 

eyes close
the new chapter
picks us up 

we find ourselves
lost in the poetic dream
stranded in a desert 

a lifetime away from home
we are in the waiting place
writing words in the sand

they are blown away...

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"The Third Degree"

I’m thinking, if I am to commence this degree next year, then perhaps easier to have cats. I can’t leave a dog alone in the apartment all day. Unless I do the entire...

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Huxley was in his nineteenth year,
a freshman at a fancy school,
the kind with excesses of ivy,
who claimed they accepted no fools.

The academics were no task,
he’d always excelled with his mind,
but finding like souls to fit...

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A new day perhaps, of immeasurable tin, sound of din
A hurricane noise, a thrall of riotous cuts, although thin
The blood-curdle choke of rage from before
Now purchased like plasma from the needle store
Go hump yourself, If...

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There was once a man who believed he had everything
Every day he was blessed with the gift of wisdom
For every wise tale he was given a proverb
For every proverb he was given a vision
For every...

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Sitting, I am graceful
Still,
And ever paceful. 
I am waiting.
Waiting for you to die. 
I let loose a slow soft purr
-I am content at the thought -
As I sit and stare,
At your body ageing,
And failing
No longer...

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Watch out, brother,
An eye's following you,
Watching what you do,
Each movement remembered.
Don't cheat,
Don't steal,
Don't breathe too loud,
Someone's sure to find out.
Each flaw, each mistake,
And blow it up big.
Your life's another production,
A movie or an album.
There's a...

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1. Kelly Lune:
silk rose under dome
opaque glass
thwarted love preserved


2. Jack Collom Lune:
the faded corsage
under a dusty glass dome—
missed spring ball

NOT FOR CONTEST
POET'S NOTES
The lune (aka American haiku) created by New York-based poet Robert Kelly (1935–)...

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"WINTER"


the beautiful season 
of suspension
where we find 
our true selves

hibernating

under sacred blankets
of wisdom won 
dreaming of all 
the days past, gone 

in the never complete

and we dream 
in songs
of the other life
approaching

beautiful, 
inviolate,
lilting pure,
lighter, pristine,...

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& huxley is giggling in his grave

if aldous was still alive,
he’d laugh himself to death
when confronted with the new evidence
that Zogenix’s 
brand new spanking drug
“Zohydro,”
is yet another installment in mankind’s race
to create “soma,”
the government sponsored...

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My own hands unadorned,
Pale in comparison
to the embellishments of your own. 
The lines,  creases, crevices;
the salon-pampered nails and rings
All sing
The adventures and accomplishments
of your life - both tasteful and tasteless.

The lines on your hands
Like...

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had Julian been even a sparkle in his 
mom’s eyes
when Ray put the pen to Fahrenheit 451,
one might have witness the light being 
passed
straight from one hand to the next---
from Zamyatin to 
Huxley & from...

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At the station Paton stares at me from the train bound for Johannesburg
He leaves a note to remember to mop up where the roof leaks
This is after the British take Achebe and I's gods away
before...

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... then again I'm almost 24
but i wish i could be 8 again, Kobe
Ignorance isn't bliss, it's a door
of perception, shoutout to Huxley 
Bliss is knowledge & knowledge is power
& that's an insurmountable tower
but all...

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The nature of our spiral nebulae or Milky Way,
is the size of our universe from where we stay.
Believing that our nebulae is relatively small,
Astronomer Curtis declared a far bigger call.
Billions of galaxies much larger and...

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“I don't like that” 
I told him wide-eyed and anxiously. 
It reminded me of a time long ago, 
Not necessarily of someone I used to know 
But of someone who had helped himself anyway. 

Head...

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You’re within  me
Talking, stalking
In the guise of a false memory

Arbiter of what is and is not
A cloaked and shadowed form
Whom I had hoped to forget

Feebly I had prayed that I could live in peace
But...

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How can you expect me to win a battle
 by giving me a blunted, tarnished sword 
and thrusting me into the unknown? 

How can you expect me to have the courage 
when I'm in a...

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Thanks to Henry Ford living six hundred years before,
here is a brave new world John the Savage would explore:

The Hatching and Conditioning Center is the source
where community and stability stay on course.
A team of scientists...

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