The lasting stone of desire
swelling to pip full strip back the cracked ones
has now settled into the soul singing sensational
squall of a strong blow
where bafflement can begin
dripping the amber climate
of unitary sense
outside the gyre spinning
clockwise love
ticking with the hands of strife
in reiki rainbow centres
and freaky trip out
places like the front room of Alan's
where we bargain with the beginner fiction writers
who populate cyberspace
seeking conection.
And when Empedocles is thrown in the
slow bake of which nots and where fors
slowly start to take shape as the chill out
dumbed ups of W1 covent Garden
swill the air with the sound of
an elite corp of strangled notions
teetering on the bring
of every drivel laden cliche
imaginable to man and beast
who feed on the slop shop filler
wheeze is all gettin' a taste of
next week when Windle Sparkance
gets launching the transmigrationals
of an old demonic grace.
And the slant kill republican's
are gonna blog Sparky's start
in word star world with a bikini riot street jive
'n jingle up the lingo with bamboo eggs
cheese needle skewered
and cracked by the sandwich jazz of a
top table fin clutching bongocero god
whose gonna wrap up the day with
an extemporised slap fest
of bird chirping imitational grace
that's gonna get the pigeons
in a lather and Windle filled with the vibe
that words worth the weight
of hearing should be allowed to simmer
before getting set free to sail the air
and anchor in the listeners ear.
This was written as part of an ongoing (ad) continuim, where certain very interesting and exciting aspects of Empedoclesian theory is decanted into verse, in order to counter certain ideas currently being put forward by other members of staff here at the university. These ideas relate to the metrical supremacy of Parmenidesian thought at the expense of Empedocles, which is obviously an outrageous claim, as the hexameter Empedocles deploys is both supple and responsive to the material which it addresses, forming the backdrop to a large section of Western thought which can be traced directly through Lucretius to Plutarch and the metaphysicals, culminating with the superbly clear and light prose-poetry we encounter in Yeats' Vision, which I am currently using as the raw material for a "write through" project in which I will create 12 slim volumes of disposable poetry, which I hope will question the stasis in much modern poetry today.
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