byJohn S Moore
It has all been done before
You repeat the age old patterns
And cannot ask for more.
YOUTH:- The words you speak are poison,
Sterility and hate
Nothing is impossible
For man may master fate.
AGE:- Led on by thoughtless vanity
The old Satanic flaw
You drive yourself to madness
Resisting natural law.
YOUTH:- My task is to disprove you
In your sight and in mine
To follow out my destiny
And weave a new design.
The facets of a many sided crystal.
And the flow of a waterfall.
Invisible white crystals
In the white torrential foam.
Rivers carried diamonds
Diamonds shed tears,
And there was no contradiction
For many thousand years.
Drift beyond the many worlds
Of change,
Past faith, past belief,
Past doubt,
Gliding softly in and out of love,
Gliding softly in and out
Of communism,
Of the manifold religions.
Pass the symbols, forms,
And meanings,
Pausing just to register
Momentary understanding.
Pass beyond uncertainty,
Thought, feeling,
Perhaps become intoxicated
With nothing
The stuff of the universe.
THE HERESY HUNTER
A ripple of alternative experience.
‘I don’t want you on my trip,’
Said the Roman Catholic
To the Cathar
‘I will blast your Virgin Marys
From my churches.
I will kill you to preserve
The beauty of my mind.
Because we know
We all are right
And there is no
Down in Soho Square
I know him so I greet him
He speaks of his despair.
The way that he is going
What could I do to save?
What future is there for him?
Nothing but the grave.
And then I look at pictures
Through a window pane
Of bare bottomed schoolgirls
Bending for the cane.
And then the notion hits me
One which strangely calms,
That all of my desires
Are like my legs and arms.
Said the window cleaner,
Everybody says,
At the foot of the ladder.
I have scratches
Scratches of love,
All over my arse
I’ll climb to the top
Of a twenty foot ladder
To polish the glass.
That candelabrum
Of living, writhing,
Golden snakes,
Is so nice
So vital, so personal,
Adorable, exquisite,
Words fail.
But not those of that
Happy windowcleaner who said
‘I should like to get much higher’.
She was the Queen of Heaven
The spouse of the Most High
She came down to Paris
His judgement for to try,
And when she took her clothing off
"My Goddess", Paris cried,
"To see thy breast I am so blest
I surely must have died!"
And then came Aphrodite,
She too completely bare,
He gazed upon her buttocks
Her breasts and pubic hair.
The maid of war and wisdom
Then let him feast his eyes
Upon her holy nakedness,
Upon her virgin thighs.
Then it was explained to him,
It was for him to see,
That nothing was more beautiful
Than one among those three.
The three immortal goddesses
Had come, and all undressed
To ask a mortal man to choose
Which was the loveliest.
But Paris finds it hard to tell,
He twiddles with his thumbs.
"Turn round again please goddesses,
Let me compare your bums".
Now Venus’s was chubby,
Athena’s bum was tight,
But Juno’s arse was quite first class,
A truly splendid sight!
But Paris judged not straightly
For overcome by lust,
He took a bribe from Venus
And so betrayed his trust.
Punish me if you can and will
My reasons:- I had no sexual joy
And that I am mentally ill.
My superstraight neighbours surrounding
Inspired me with the temptation
Of being a worm and a foul thing
And courting my own damnation.
For though I commit a rebellious act
I must play the policeman as well
And if I earn Heaven I must counteract
With something to plunge me in Hell.
For I am a contemptible grass.
The English girl, requested, spreads her ample nether cheeks.
Take Nancy, who, in sultry summer weeks
Moves southwards, to be buggered by the Greeks.
And the Question was Answered,
And the Answer was Denied,
And the Question was Denied,
And being Denied was still Answered.
It was asked,
"How is it that this question may be
Shown to be unanswerable?"
This was answered,
"Only by an answer which is not an answer,
An interminable question which leads to despair".
Answer and Not answer confronted each other,
Not answer prevailed.
Damnation,
As defined in the Prophetic Books
Of William Blake.
Since then Answer and Not answer
Have lived in harmony.
RIC RIC RITCHETY RIC RIC
Into the diabolic jigsaw,
The fag the drink the shit
The ordinary fact,
The woman and the pet
And the concept of the problem
Now everything is set
For a frightful final act.
Music is resolved
Into the one eternal jingle
As reality is freed
From the shackles of belief.
The thinkable is split
Into its logical components
And an absolute confusion
Which proffers no relief.
Fearing what I am
And being what I fear
How can I stop fearing
When my freedom is complete?
A riddle looms which I can’t guess
A conundrum which I confess
Is dragging me in terror
To unthinkable defeat.
With a sub-machine gun in my hand
From the crest of a hill the car moves down
To the busy main street of a wealthy town
And I shoot at x and I blow up y,
And I shoot at z and I shoot at the sky
Buildings, people, cars I smash,
And they all disappear with a colourful flash.
Hotels, offices fall to the ground
And as for the officers standing around
All are destroyed by a hand grenade
And the rainbow fire of the fusillade
And I shoot at a girl and I shoot at a boy
And the banks explode to a shout of joy.
Ladies greet with sexual love
Murdering angel from above
And I shoot in the cunt and I shoot in the balls
And the sound is the roar of Niagara falls
I shoot at the wind and I shoot at the sea
At every bird and at every tree.
At the end of the street we drive away
Nothing is left but bleak decay.
To live alone.
Love is a vice
Lust is the desire
To smoke a cigarette
In a land of
‘No Smoking’ notices.
Life is a spectator
Sport with no players,
Only people being dragged
Away by the police
For creating a
Disturbance.
Since ‘God’ means ‘Home’,
I might just as well say ‘Home’.
In Nero, God was incarnate.
Nero as Alexander for instance.
Pan is my home.
One must escape the quagmire,
Is an elongated man
And he turns into a petrol pump
As for some evil plan.
An eight foot John F. Kennedy
Standing by the road
The cobwebs and the pallor
Can only evil bode.
We drive into an archway
Composed of leaning trees.
The archways are of sandstone
As we float on nameless seas.
Huge buildings rise above us
As if they want to fall
As if they want to crush us
And it only can appal.
I worship the God with the Janus face
Where the wounds of Jesus no longer bleed
And Pilate’s question is all we need
And combined in a seven sense symphony
Is the infinite wealth from an infinite sea
Charged with an infinite ecstasy.
WHAT TEARS
What tears of lamentation
Shall be shed about the land?
For the girl who tamed the serpent
Is as dead as Talleyrand
And her flesh shall rot entirely
Leaving nothing but the bone,
The tamer of the serpent
Is as dead as Al Capone
For the taming of the serpent
She has had to pay the price
From now to all eternity
As dead as Jesus Christ
And I wait and I watch, and I rip and I rend
And I mourn that the drama
Has come to its end
And I wait and I watch and I rant and I rave
And lament that the heroine
Is entering her grave.
For the girl who tamed the serpent
Is ready for the tomb
There are worms about her body
Which are eating up her womb
Of the glorious destruction of the previous year.
But all is paid for, all is done
We have had our rebellion and our time of fun,
The secret of the serpent shall be told no more
And the tears of lamentation shall echo round the shore.
With increase of horror
Hard to be borne
Symmachus and Porphyry
Live through the triumph
Of primitive vulgarity
Low superstition.
Symmachus and Porphyry
The cause is lost!
Reason and argument are no more!
The base and the ugly are dominant
And there is nothing you can do.
Symmachus and Porphyry
How can you speak?
Rage as you might
The ruin is unspeakable.
Of the low have sway
That we believe their vulgar trash;
Abandon wine, yazatas, truth and then,
They say, we may be safe and free.
Apostasised, my children or their
Children might acquire
That form of pride, that hope of joy. For me
To live a lie, to serve the druj,
Give up my heart’s desire,
Ahuramazd, and spit on fire,
What happiness could there be?
SRP PUBLICATIONS:- LONDON 1989. ISBN: 1 871446 02 3
