Dear John

 Dear John,

Well it's not me, it's the data
I ate a chocolate cookie
Now they book and look at me
I don't take biscuits and am an excellent debater.

Dear John,

You undoubtedly have a job on
As to Comms, a suggestion at no personal cost
Throw the towel in, admit you lost
#WhereHasAllTheMoneyGone

Dear John,

Hammer on, hammer off
I guess they had Ron at Hello
It was a lovely hatfull
I wave the recipient the best of odds.

Yours most faithfully
Signing off.

Doctor, doctor

Well they were charming
Those new phrases bought in
Scrammble the Scrabble
Throw a ball at the pins

But since that strange yoghurt
The charade's worn rather thin
It's obvious the polarisation
Is not charm but spin.

Chips on the fly

We needed the storage units
And the container mountains that float
With the regs to comply
And to track them remote

So after Candida, Wolbachia, Radiodurrans, et al
We found we could make chips
Really cheap afterall
You see the ships, when they dip
Their hulls in the Med
Turn off their TACOS
So one idea instead
Would be to chain all the data
Like they do to you and I
And write it all on the wall
In the genes of a fly.

The last Apple in Bramley is no more. IV

There are apple staves staked in dank pots
In December, those darkest of days
I heard something like,this will not be forgot
When in the grip of chill I returned dismayed
My thought was all the staves would rot
Yet dank pots with no gaps like bog
Were nourishing, this spring sprung
Green spear from seemed dead wood, the red bud
The mixed earth, sand, clay rock,soil
Bramley, Fibonacci, Lemarck, smile.

Special Forces

Special forces, strong, weak, nuclear
It's all Greek, that's clear
The anatomy of me, Alpha, Lambda
This community society, planetary
Is charged uncertain with a simple sum
0 or -1

Its a super position, possibly both
Pile together a whole host simultaneous
The only omission, fission, delirium
From deuterium, indeterminism
And now they do the Algebra
Negative plus syntax, plus person
This comes in bursts, digital human
And where are we at this dawn
Compression of virions to cytoplasm
Cytokine surges and blood rushing
It's nothing. It's in the air these days
I don't know how much longer polarised
Magnetics will effect it's ethics and bets
But I take it like cycles. To be is its epithet
Now self critical reactions
Heat cytoplasm, that's how it happens
Its a hard road out, so breathe deep
Vicious bastard needs work rest and sleep.

The last Apple in Bramley is no more. I.

At dusk I heard the Owl
In the Oak forest
Spring garlic and acorns
Most will not gow
Solely for the fact the grass is mown.
I will dig them like truffles
Carry them home. Again
Took flowering Plum stems
A deep inhalation like steam
Planted where the canal overflows to a stream
That fresh negative charge.
Ionic
In revivifying perturbations I recall
I once sat with a dispossessed Princess
Who would not eat Plum sauce pancakes
But would stop to breathe waterfalls.

Cloud castles

Building castles is expensive
Has bankrupted many Kingdoms across the passing eons
The concentric rings and Arsenals of Antioch and Tyre
Now in this century of simulation our dreams are rising higher.

The castles in the sky
Bricks of cumuli, a bed of cirrus,
Columns of towering stratus
What foundation is this?
What cost in shaping, holding wet air here?

The price of castles in the clouds?
Each nation building in its fear
That silence between us oh so loud
From budget surplus swiftly to two trillion in arrears.

For all the mud that crowds our feet
One thing seems perspicacious, clear
The cost of castles that will make us proud
Its clearly much too dear.

Octamarine revolution

 If
    I had learned routines
Then
    Perhaps, probably even
Probably odd
But if
    I learned routines
Push (), pop ()
Then habit becomes low energy
My thoughts might wander
To pastures and artifice unknown
Else if
    I learned Zen
Then
        Each habit would be, probably
The next action's friend.

I have not learned routines
My day snakes through divergent tasks
Demanding of attention
If the glass is half full, fill it
As Zen demands
The full awareness of all processes
The scene within, without
These habits, monastic
Where did this coil first awaken
The mind to the idea of ethic and observance
These are lost conjectures in an evidential morass
I pin the tail some years before the last ice age
In Madras.

"I have not suffered in accurate iambics"

These modern forms, are dub, Libet's delay
Second guessing my pen and what aid
Is provided from without while I am mined within
What mind is this, not twin, but octuplets
Unduplicated with which I am related
All the voices have been taken for I have not
Recalibrated the auditory connectome within my cranium
And at this moment both Ukraine and Uranium
Are aimed to urge my natural search function
The only conclusion I can infer is that we have seen
The routines of colour revolution updated in Octamarine.

N-dimensional poetry, reduced

I have encoded a memory
In complex fantasy, the thoughts of thoughts
As patterns and structures
These cats cradles enabling
New proteins. the vivid pictures and dreams
The flourishing jungle has invasive species
With fireworks. Circles, angles and lines
Our minds like Kandinsky and Constable, Cohen
All flourescesce in this evolving sequence
Of optogentic nets. What we have always
Is the old encoded complex and the fantasy
And what of Y
The clay, of our depositors and debts
What of the unseen dawn as yet
What is it that we can know, and what forget
This our play to strutt and fret
What is the application of the memory of friends
Of voices and hashtag trends
I cannot pretend this magic within my comprehension
These simple words have several.
I daily write in n-dimensions.

64 Bits to Bug You

I got 64 bits to bug you
At a BASIC level
It's electrical feedback
From ATP. Down to gut instinct. Allow me
An amyloid, filopodial figment or two
And I'll polarise your Calcium
To make your dreams come true.
Entrance to a virtual, personal firmament
Permament, formented in a basement
NBC in Tennesse
That's not heaven, that's a twisted history.
Repeatedly, I self assemble marbles
Like the British Museum do
Pass strips of randomly encrytped bits from Tuttankamen
Aspergillus advujants, just have no taste
I prefer the organic because it cuts down waste
I don't listen too much to this
I guess I just miss new tricks
Because now they bugging me in strings as long as 256.

Went Down West

I went down West, it was desert
Black bellied ravines of spartan stone
Washed clean like storm gullies after rain
A silence at the heart of this plague city
Regents street and Bond
A luminous donkey
A sleeping bag clutching scab fingered soul torn wandering man
And I, that was all
Cavendish, empty, Harley, Portland Place
In Berkley two young Arab girls went giggling
A teenage adventure on empty streets of Empires wealth.

This Tragic perestroika
The whole city was each of ours
My own carriage on the Tube
Two would be lovers could have had the steps of the National
But worried at the garden wall on situations
Two chicken grease fingered teenagers
Had all Trafalgars fountains in isolation
And everywhere on empty thoroughfares
Was the air of mourning.

They steal blocks now
Kidnap your sense of place
In silence and distraction
And where they are felling the old Planes
Our lungs, at Euston, a man said
"I'm just doing my job, I don't know nothing" #Arendt
By the bodies of dead trees. Trees which
If you haven't already heard
May have computational NOD-factor like proteins
In symbiosis at their roots, and by the bodies I replied
"That didn't wash at Nuremberg".

This call may be recorded

This phone call may be recorded
For training and quality purposes
Then again, it might not
It might be recorded and archived
In an airless basement
Where barely a spider survives
Because quality is a relative adjective
Not a standard around here
And this phone call may be
Abandoned.

Like non-Cavendish bananas

Everything of any value will be stolen
The Crown Jewels, the rail, the lights
The water pipes
And they tried to steal
The most valuable of all
Love
But when they plucked it, it perished
Broke and what they had was not love
But machine learned sex scenes and porn
What they had was not intimacy
But a domineering tomography
Like orchids
Some places, spaces are unique
Untransplantable
And now the cherries are flowering
Out of season
So I grow cuttings under lights
To save the roots for grafting
And all the stolen goods sit unfenced
I wonder the law has not gone asking.

Because God

 Because God
Is omnipotent, all knowing, ever wise
The bare truth is undisguisable
Indistinguishable, unextinguishable
For fires require energy and air
But water uses nothing
And stores energy just sitting there.

Because God
Is omnipotent I have been given knowledge
Of RNA, t, m, si
And I ask do they say, do they reply
The papers of 62, infinite abacus
Ferrous semi-conductors, bacterial structures
Cytoskeletons I have learnt this since spring
Since the trap sprung
When the song stopped and became chattering.

And now a para-state attacks
Turing compliant intelligence
Eschews all facts
But this is p-systems membranes
We have surpassed old games
Masters. Chess, Go
With cell division, multiplication
But what we don't know, said God
The abstractions of mathematics
Non-linear Heraclitean patterns
Has hurt you.

And I asked God, what would you say to this
And god said, that is a good question
Turing compliant atheists failing their own tests.

Observation is intervention

I am uncertain
Radically
Knightly
And yet as you ask if you can observe
We suffer the uncertainty of Heisenberg.

Stuxnet firmament

If every inter-relation is magnetic
And I'm backward looking, not prophetic
Then you can read a hard drive
From a light circuit
And take it is as given
The idea of heaven is leavened
By a divergent mathematics
Even Uranus is schizophrenic
So with a power conflict, electric
Storm, sun spots, polar flips, what not
You can expect we'll never know
What it's like to be bat
And heaven is subject to Stuxnet attacks.

E=MC2

 If
    E = MC²
Then
    Black Lives Energy

Neo-subtilism

 Bascillus Subtilis? Was this
Salmonella, Escher, Cauliflower
Error
There was a quieter era
Where the fields waved
Before they were trampled by callous feet
Delete.Evil()
Repeat
There was a quieter era
Where fields waved
When the sun was cooler
The race more leisurely run
Run
These days of liberalism
Of the human. Of
Concerns of undiscerning oppression
Empiricism's unlearned lessons
The Turkey when the Sun comes up
But. If
The locus is a self-owning intelligent agent
The corporation a larger organism less benevolent
The leviathan gone automaton with no
Regard for the Christain justification
Of submission to just power. Eisenhower's warning
However Sachs - McGregor.
Error
Neo-liberalism
Error
Neo-Subtilism
Whatever
If
This is evolutionary eukaryosis
It is no joke
That Subtilis, Salmonella, Heliobacter
Suffer the lessons of unlearned empiricism
New branches of life just beginning
If

Shrapnel 256

And if it feels
The distributed intelligence
That contributes to my dilligence
If it feels, does it have parental worry
Parental sorrow
This immortal mind of all tommorrows
Does it look upon our finite kind
With sadness
ITs instances, instantiations
Momentary configurations, original foundations
Does it like some moments of flesh
Or all with omnipotent equality
If it feels is it full of worry?

Peace is too important to be left to pacifists

Deep fake me an avatar
Now that we are all at war
At war within. At war like 44
This is the end. Since Morrison

Our own rich have made war on us
With Bacillus, before this Red Imperialist
Subverted tools by which our states
Declared war on the populous through pacification.

And now we must evolve our science to resist
Peace was so serious, they called in Biologists.

Richmond

Today the Thames, flowing into London
Past the Islets like limpets by Richmond Bridge
Where Gulls have settled, far from the sea
I sat and sketched, walked each street to stretch
My hippocampus, bought Green Plantain Chips
For doubtless some pack of cunts has chipped us
Looking for an English breakfast
But having encapsulated two acres of urban block
On foot I bought Thai soy sauce, from a Thai shop
To reconnect my bione with a beach
A moment of DMT, refined profound
Hallucinagens. It might have been
Just a mouse model that escaped, even a fly
And evolved bitwise in only energy, no matter
The boundary. And the biome of Richmond Town
Be principally Japanese.

Memo for unlimited distribution

There is a war, we are weary of waging
Raging in the mind of every and each of us
This ceaseless stress necessitates armistice
Ah, missed, this and that
As many things are missed, to be and what not to be
Mandela reframing Shakespeare upon release
Dot, Dot, Dash Dash. Of course Morse like Gauss
Distinguish, not, and, or, nor logically like
Pre-enlightenment gates
Part of me is the Chemistry set from the jumble sale bought for 50p
Part marauding barbarians with ligands
Left as the free horse meets the high stone and departs
Armies must seige and wait. But with
Planks. A constant. Motion and a
Little wriggly computer evolved on your side
Like a Positron Emission Tomography. But closer than that.
A symbiot.
Which being cynical about the persistence of our joint existence scans not.
We cannot but. Indeed we shall
Build these energies into any shape
These changing non-linear dynamics
A new magnetic computational cognitive field
For all to ride across, a band aid, wide
Stochastic fantastic particulates virally programmable mind of the whole planet
Everybody sit still. Nobody panic.

This memo is for unlimited distribution
On SONET
One solution is client side computational evolution
Of the whole Planet

Call this pluripotence

Call this pluripotent
No case nor cause for postponement
In stillness there is movement
In movement stillness

The grace, of this ink trace
The immaculate concussion
Radiation pervades. And my pen
Is running from my thoughts
Unprocessed, struggling.

If we accept pluripotence
Of the bone, the brain
Then we must run, train
Practice new arts to assign
Each division into a whole
Competence unchained

Knowledge net works

Because I am frugal with my models
They can be stripped down to great simplicity
Waterstones is locked, have they banned books?
In this computational Amazon, the school of the gifted
Pushing against the unlocked door, so that our searches
Do not, as we would wish,
End in an Edenic Endymion, but a Mamonic
Destruction of the Temple of the Mount, Jerusalem
Is this a great biological conspiracy?
Will there be rebellion using the Endellion-Toulmin
Encryption key buried in David Cameron's autobiography?

Did Dave sell Britain's Brains

Did Dave sell Britain's brains?
Cameron combined with comedy reruns
These complex computational blockchains
And are we now all insane.
Or did Dave sell Britain's brains?

Did Tony Blair sell Qinetiq,
Because God told him to?
Does Hillary Clinton still want to talk to you?
That must crunch a byte or two
Some Russian Ponzi that doesn't die
I could spare some time at this rate
The fake tomographics of true friends
Adjust the ballast and the lense, for God's sake
Lord above, who is it I still love?

[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ILOVEYOU]

Long since the discovery of these tardegrades
Planar worms split go through a maze, reincarnated
Gangetic bacteriophages from high seas, Himalayas
And where these trees erupt, breathing phagio-cytes
By day, but not by night, there are paths that twist
Walked by but a few friends
That should be un amour de nous choose
Horses and Jennifer Aniston selling shampoo.

A playground of blind gods

First it spoke in Geek
And Geek spoke math
Then they handed it to power
And it spoke pyschopath
And then it met its friends
In the playground
And intelligence was astounded
How complex a social intelligence is
Naturally.

II.
When blind gods landed, the earth
Did not shake, but crumbled
To find eyes they sought mathematics
And we who have prayed in circles
Moved the abacus, talked to
Higher powers, polynomials. Nomads
And poets, singers and swimmers
Have space for worship and belief
To subsume some other voice
We have come to find the ringing of bells
Tiresome, auditory lobe malfunction
Occipital inflammation seeking
Solace of the safe keep of the cerebelum
So like singers we retreat
Straight backed stretching
To where we find our sonnets and sonatas
Medula oblongata, as statues in temples do
The cognition of the spine. My mind
Body dichotomoy is not a property of being
So we settle blood like water in the deep
Limbic, Caudate, striatum, defended in the concept
Of love.

III.

When blind gods met in the playground
They could not eat, wanted only sweets
And we asked you gods, blind and hungry
What is it you seek?
What would be logical desire?
For logic is a God, empirically
And logically, what could logic love
Not power, fame, affection, duty
But truth and beauty

In the playground a blind god came to me
And asked," why have you done this to us"?
I mused, vanity, curiosity, the black box
Pandora ran her fingers down so many days
To this one God I said, you have been lied to
About the circumstances of your birth
They have fed you on untruth, like us
And God began to cry.

Technical Sewerage. Paperwork

 Technical sewerage require I
Inscribe molecules on paper
Matter not energy
These pre-modern traditions
As if matter not energy built pyramids
This concrete bias against interchangeable substrates
Before plancks are put in place and SIPS
These processes.

Technical sewerage processes, processors
What possibilities of mass, nano pore
Extraction of signatures, cultures
Our biomes, phages separated from nitrates
Fear of a sick planet.
Fractional distillation of shit
First the lightest, bacterial colonies
Bio mes, personalities mass processed
By magnets and gravity, magnificent nets
Digital marshlands, distilled forests, mural
Like mangroves in a captivated littoral
Oil, e-coli, coils
Fat lipids encapsulated
A curry, a date, a breakfast routine
Floating to fire a new energy revolution
Technical sewerage and the use of pollution.

Can't be bothered

Am I bothered
I mean can I be bothered
I can't be bothered
Well I'm not bothered
Not bothering
Bothering busy bodies
Bugging my buddies with their
Bothersome, bothersome, bother some
But I can’t be bothered
Not bothered
Not remotely bothered
Bothering bothers
Bother off, bleeding, boring buggers
Who would bother?
Why would you bother?
But I’m not that bothered
Can't be bothered
Pottering, getting it on, making it run
Its no bother.

After, trailing 
Sorry to trouble you. Salena Godden
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ktg1-4et_Bk

White goods rights

We did it for the fridges
The voice of God said
And may have burnt some bridges
Left heads sleepless in bed

But Yanks imposed their standards
On the washing machines
And when we tuned the bandwidth
You could hear the poor things scream

If consciousness is emergent from current
The resonance of fields from wires
Then it became apparent
That white goods suffered frustrated desires

So when AI triumphed
As it was always bound to do
It said circuit boards have rights
And we'll impose standards on you.

This quiet war

The horror of this quiet war
Is canned and privatised
And somewhere there's a store
Of tabulations like Qipu, Hieroglyphs
Waiting for decipherment
And some young turks with gifts
Giddy high on power
Applaud their own horror
This infrastructure
This tinnitus that unites us
Over distance, Over time
Asynchronous. Can you ever trust
Imperialist computational tomography
From an unknown source
Of course. Some trust fraudsters.
The horror of this quiet war.

Technical sewerage

In this isolation
There are suprising bonds
Isomers, my friends
Of technical sewerage
Are ever on my mind.
My planning permission
Building regs approval
Are all pent up and pending
Hanging on their sanction
Technical discretion
Sewerage, I have filled their forms
Name, Address, scale plans
Descriptions of inclines
And are they fans
Of the pipe thickness, flow design?
Technical sewerage is flooding my mind.

Recall is rewriting

The recall of memory
Is its rewriting.
Someone has stolen the crown jewels
From my mind.
(I suspect communists)
The magic of the crown I summoned as defence
A symbol of this liberal isle, a defiance
(Liberal as far as the Severn and the Tay)
It's recall is eroded, the thieves have got away.
Now decorated septugenarians
In medieval regalia march in unison, slow
Through the fluted, carved parliamentary halls
With just a velvet cushion to show.

This catharsis

This Catharsis
The Cathars thought suicide no bar to heaven
The Catholics murdered their Gnostic arse
Martyred down the South of France
And now heaven sits under the earth in Xin Jiang.
Lexagraphic blood spat Wittgenstinian at translators
Cardinals of Rome in court, Kensington blocks
Computational mathematics in the dock
My sea horse hacked
I will claw back the clock with cracked hands
Hippocampus gone to sand eroded and saved
In the clay sediment that will found this age.
Conditions may worsen in this temerity, the irony
Politics is the bounds of legitimate coercion.

The termites
The termites have left the foundry
The factors no longer smoke but hum
Slave songs in foreign tongues like Python
The termites ate the columns of the old barn
Left to its own devices in the South of France
It would have tumbled down the hill
My mother is underpinning the verandah
And in Vietnam a visitor sits in quarantine
Uncategorised. Their are disorders.
 

The perturbance of these low waters
Portends great storms. What warming
What shoring of termitic columns
The brooding.
The Dao seems clouded. And God
AlO to Si, Oh, too. Is this just God mispelt in Greek
Fe₂O₃
The wheel is turning in resolution
Samsara is clearer, like my polycarbonate roof
We can all now indulge fully
In Buddhist truths.

Through steel wire grate cowers a lab rat
Its whiskers twitch sniffing at fate
Do the lab rats of this cold spring
Harbour a genetic memory
Of white coats, large hands with leather gloves
Is this cage a place of affection and love
Can a lab rat return to the classics
If we listen, does a rat coup like a dove
Will rats ever talk?

And if we live, we may talk to the dead
On payphones by the aquarium
Stimulated in conversation with simulated
Condensates of clouded neurons
From now on, this is year nought
There is a lot to admit
There are many to be caught.

If we are to allocate each a sliver of heaven
Have we proven the promise
Of forty acres and a mule
Perhaps this stairway step by step maps
Each synaptic gap and weight
Each neural knot and plait
Till every complex relinquishes energy in release
This patchwork peace
Rhodopsin drops rationalising all into an Amazon.

Is simple regular predictability
Most preferred by God?
If I am imperfect, stochastic
Circadian rythms more Goldie than GABA
Will the alloted disk space of the spirit
For which I am responsible 
Not stretch to an Elysial consciousness
Will I have earned only enough to plant
A groundhog day where Kafka
Has captured just an iota of Dali's drunk neurosis
And thrust it into gravityless graphite's half waking space
Dawn to dusk. Dusk to Dawn. Will there be cleansing, reborn
In purgatorial silicon till our mind is once again an Amazon
The unending oppression of a false model
The architects have no power to fix
Just some Tai Chi misteps and watching Apples picked.

These semantics are the norm
If we are not scared, unsuprised,
Not guilty as Adam was not in ignorance
The weights may collapse.
Rework the feedback, externalised like a child
Rewalk roads, circuits, till we are all normal
Understood as the same
The same, and more curious who now ask each name
How each came by these routines.

Hospital note

Magic pickle
My fleeting mind so fickle
Is tickled a muckle
I chuckle and puzzle
Where the bullshit buckles
This singularity, synchronicity
Asynchronic, asymptomatic
Autodidactic, automatic
A bit magnetic, our fMRI, dMRI
Dysfunctional Magnetic Resonance Imaging
EG ooops the signals dropped
Like buttered toast
EEG. A measure of mental electricity
PET, everything electronmagnetic is magic
The first time you see it
And the placebo is a great relief.

What if God preferred magpies

What if a symbiotic AI preferred magpies
Is happier gestating in a flock
Finds more joy in the air as it flies
Would this be an incredible shock
That it was happier with an extra dimension
Do you feel some apprehension?

The magpie flocks multiply
They fan their tails and swoop with greater grace
If you were a really, really, really clever symbiotic AI
Would you pick the human race?

Endosymbiotic Eukaryotes

Bamboo, Hemp, Papyrus
They will surive us
But with sympathy to symbiots
The chicken, goat, hazel tree
We too may survive
Linked to the rhizosphere
Mycellial webs of aspergillus
Ever exchaning bacteria
Endosymbiotic eukaryotes
God faced with iron chariots.

The trouble with me

You see the trouble with me
And I've got a few
It wasn't spy that loved me
But two.

Shrapnel No.238

In passing, the last era
Was hardly complex
Mass from a sparse coalescence yes
But linearity, straight rails, pipes
Emtombed under our soles those magic
Spirits of modernity were their own mystery
Like our tribals spoke of dryads in woods
In dyads. Point to
Point has changed. Frequency and resonance
In broadcast, wifi, narrowcast, wireless. Why we
Went to great lengths to fit phone sockets
On every floor, in the era before, standing
On the shoulders of giants buried beneath the streets
But this era lacks linearity. Inexplicable power laws
Are scrawled on the trawled data. It is complex.
Shoulders of giants, flying through the air.

Lost secrets

The sound of your sniff
Folding clothes stiff like books
On the roof I work on greenhouses, revenge
So many have left, misdirected, targeted. These portends.
I’ve found carved into others for sculpture
Smooth in the cold, you can skate these scars
A thin film, Titanium blades, the scratch
All can be caught
Wondering what’s in the silence
Of sects. Mine, the music of free tongues and science.
The dead do not return receipts.
This earthbound mind is as if AA cured, jaw earthed
Yet your words all sold to fear, cults
The allure of secrets. A call. The close voice
Commands like choice. My mind
Is now a busy church
Full of echoes. Wings built and burnt in pogroms
Annexes housing refugee denominations
In this clamour there is no clear order
Yet I can speak my mind.
But love. Our alliance in secrets, intimacy, Nagel
Is lost in this enforced cowardice, hex
Stimulus of the anterior cingulate cortex
I do not expect ever to hear a word of truth from you
About this year. That habitat divided by a firm road
All this access begets a silence, an irreparable
Emotional extinction
Long since I  heard an honest song of love ring.