The whole river

On this pathway where the cold shiver
Some take the fresh tarmac
Some roam the river.

When I asked how she took her water
She told me
The whole river from the torrents
Of the mountain spring
To the wide, slow estuary.

Left and right

After a while it became clear
The right were not right
And the left left
So that all that was left
Was a bunch of rights
And nobdody to take care of the lights.

Boris Johnson's Curtains?

Now of course you see
None of us can be quite certain
About Boris Johnson's curtains
A matter of some debate
The Prime Minister or State's Estate
And of course their hue
Is it Midnight, Prussian
Or do we simply call it
A deeper shade on Blue?

It's the state
Of the kitchens and the lounge you see
Not to mention comprehending the intention
Of whatever the last inmates
Left behind in the settee.

You see
Boris Johnson's curtains
Or not
Are they open or closed?
A pertinent inch
Like a garter exposed?

II. {Boris Johnson's Curtains} 

    Var value
    Var connection
    Var spin
    Var attention
    Var charm

III. Function : BorisJohnson'sCurtains

If open
    Then
        can we see the wallpaper?
    I hope it is luxuriously embossed
    For the cracks it covers over can be seen in actual fact
    Seismic graphs and fractals showing scant regard for impact
    As to what life lives within them, the cost can but be guessed.

If closed
    Then
        We can see Boris Johnson's curtains
    Else
        Is he just actin'? Waiting for an encore?

If open
    Then
        We can see the comings and govings
    The hope a typo in .gove
    Translates effectively into phonetic nodes
    Rome wasn't built in a day
    But whoever did it. ate (Pasta)
    Buck    a trend    or two
    Follow your passion for fashion.
 

If open
    Then
        Can we see all the way to the garden?
    The chalk wall and water feature?
    Can we see Johnson, heel on heel
    Digging a little deeper?

Precipice II

The memory model, refined to perfection
Minds inspected like terrorist connections
Superior temporal sulcus mined
Who you know, what crimes they've done
We can scan and annotate all agents of corruption.
They will cling to the mast in the tempest.
Abuse of power and secrecy their only defence
Their pretence, that Lincoln was an idiot
That we will all succumb, forget
And wander dumb over the precipice at sunset.

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.