Poetry

  • Seven(2)
    2005, Kanaalstraat, Amsterdam On our first night together, you tried to tell me of your oddities. I couldn’t understand them. So we had a walk at the park and you called me by some other woman’s name. On our second night, we still couldn’t consumate our union. But you were alright, you were very very happy, ...
  • The Last Divine
    Ya rabbi salli allal habib mohammaden Now that the stirring has ceased, and there I sit calmly before my beloved Guru, whilst The earth whirls around me, my beloved, there I still see the dim of his hand, his firm hand That commands me to stop and to fall to the ground, to let the air whirl about ...
  • There is nothing but Divine
    La illaha illa allah There, my Love, hear my heart beating like the djambe in the deepest forests It be dying and yet it throbs through the night, such fluttering and stuttering By the strikes and caresses of your Divine hand, you know me and you see me In the darkness by that rhythm, where the morning seems an ...
  • Splendor
    (Ma Prem Saarasa, her lamenting voice sings the mantra “Allaho akbar, ya rahimo ya rahman”, “Indhina ssiratal muskateem ya allah”) The music resounded in my sleeplessness and its rhythm lifted my spirit Tapped my feet and jangled these bracelets to a steady beat worthy Of whirling to submission, keeping these eyes open, this starveling body Floated in the swirl, ...
  • Seven
    On our first night you must not touch me, nor on our second night together. We will simply be together, promenade, we feed each other and look at the birds and the horses. You can hold me on the third night and press your clothed body upon me but that is all. You cannot look ...
  • Bob and Cat (A Science-Fiction Fantasy)
    Here comes the wind from the east. A rare and wild experience. The invisible touch of the hand of god. Made by the mind of man. What pristine paradise this is. What unworldly world, a calculated dream. Such vagrant greens stagger my mind. Now where is that cat of mine? And what have I gotten into, this garb. This ...
  • Dog and Bob (A Science-Fiction Smellodrama)
    Oh the balmy wind in my ears, my! My wet nose dried and re-wetted. A fine dog-day afternoon in a world that was real, once. Once liveth. The unhearing dog am I, I without my listening contraptions. How strange. Somehow my nose both smells and listens. Listens sensations unsmelt of. But I must run, give chase! Chase that bullet ...
  • Dog and Cat (A Science-Fiction Comedy)
    Break wind, my friend, break wind. That singular talent that saved me. In the Observatoire of Starship Ontology they decided. I fart therefore I am. And yet on this lush vegetative planet. And that bait of an improvident cat. Doth seal the fate of my organic companions. Only I, dogbot, know. Let us hunt, very well, let us chase. ...
  • Cat and Dog (A Science-Fiction Drama)
    “Born of the wind.” They say I was born of the wind. Like this artificial stem-cell planet. I was born of science’s incantations. I have no past, no future. Only this hunger, this taste and pursuit. For blood. There goes that teflon-coated fugitive cat! Run, mongrels, run! Run like that cat has stolen our fire! Nothing in this world mocks ...
  • Cat and Bob (A Science-Fiction Country Western)
    “Run” they say, “Run like the wind!” But me? Oh I ran like the scan-blips on Bob’s ventilating brain. Over hill. Over dale. On this artificial stem-cell planet. Lush lovely work these wildernesses I must say. But what of these?! When there’s three unspeakable louts behind me seeking amusement. As if! I feel like a space brigand on an anti-gravity ...
  • jass sayin’
    ah kin kind kinda just keen jass jowle lie lyin in lie in bet bed thinkin thin thinkin haw hah hah na na nice you ah your your bood bood boody boody feel ah feels ah then an then hee hee hee hee hee hee hee puts pukes pokes puts ah hell helland lands hands on moi mai mah me an an ah keep creep kreep thin thee ...
  • Effigy
    To those who must roam in peril. She learned her art amongst her sisters. The Sea Gypsies. Whose romance with the waters ended with state-sponsored wars. Down south. It was the flares of strafing bullets that took away their men. In the night. The dancing lines of fire across the waters. Sparks on their fishing spears. They took apart the ...