Latest items:

Poetry

	Ye Caterpillar
	PROFILE About me Friends (27) Collections Books (1) Poetry (18) Prose (2) Photography (2) Graphics (44) Video poems (1) Postcards (4) Diary (2)

latest best rating most commented

Ye Caterpillar, 6 january 2013

JACK KEROUAC'S TYPEWRITER RHYTHM UNROLLS

Jacaranda jaculus - jaculus Caractacus
Caraway imaculus.
Hacking haikus home from traveling the page.
Merimac memory-babe, clacking keys
on your portable machine
writing the epic paperback roadflick
lickin' up ink, highways, lush-nights
and scenes of your time, your '50's
w e s t e r n d r e a m i n g

Lost, mocked, most honoured scribe
scribbling in endless notebooks
with your
c h e a p w i n e
sharing-it-with-anybody -
YOU didn't mind -
you knew we all sprung from the same meatwheel,
the same karmic revolving circus -
From Mary's drunken Buddha-Heart.

In felaheen earth
in tents
in Mexico
in automobiles
in neon city night-lights
in sagebrush coyote deserts
in doldrum drinking blues
in ships of the oily dark sea
loving the tragic world

loving the magic words - keys clack
ribbon spins and whirls
unravelling on your cheap solitary desk
tales of ten thousand miles
to bless the dream-soaked youth
an' flying souls to the sun

number of comments: 6 | rating: 4 | detail

Ye Caterpillar, 2 april 2012

Remember When We Were Free?

Remember, my friends, when we were Free?
Remember the white sunlight on the hot dusty streets?
Remember when songs were sung without looking over our shoulders?
When poems were spoken out loud, in cafes? In the street?
When laughter knew no check, no nervous glance?
Yes my friend, I know you do, even if you can't
Look me in the eye.

Once we danced around a fire - we spoke of whatever came into our Minds -
I know you know this, inside yourself, I know you keep it,
deep inside your secret chest. Under your grey
and inconspicuous coat.

I know you all yearn for the return of a past mode.
But it will take years, war, a revolution -
and then, us survivors will be old.

Yes, we will be old, those of us who live.
Those of us who are not broken by those who wear the black.
Perhaps we'll run together into the evening sun,
stir the ashes of an old song
and look for life in it.

number of comments: 4 | rating: 3 | detail

Ye Caterpillar, 1 april 2012

The Caterpillar

"Who are you?" asked the caterpillar
but I didn't know - so what could I say?

I thought about it for a bit
but realized there was no answer
and this was not a problem.

number of comments: 4 | rating: 4 | detail

Ye Caterpillar, 4 january 2013

Ghostmoney

Ghostmoney-
It’ll hauntya-
But what is ghostmoney, you ask-
Ghostmoney is the dream
of the value
of the money you spent
it all long ago.

Ghostmoney is foreign currency
that we all use-

Ghostmoney is currently collected
by the customs and exorcise-

This chilling private-value-system
haunts vaults
vaunts and flaunts fiscal
risks, faults, fails, falls
into a Great Depression.
Haunting stark for the gaunt poor-
Ghostmoney dreams flapped
from the wings
of a mammoth Mammon mastodon.

number of comments: 4 | rating: 4 | detail

Ye Caterpillar, 3 april 2012

Mind Knowing Light

Clean as Light in Space
Photons stream pure - no room for neurotic thought.
Photons stream pure - bouncing off illusory matter, silently.

Photons clean in space travelling-
Colour to the eye, eye to the Mind-
Mind knowing light.

Light in time sagging-
Distorting by gravity's lure-
Stars unborn seen first-
Unborn Mind seeing light between atoms dancing

Moonbeams, friendly white neon-glow
Luminous-clean, no room for stale ideas-
Throw your radiance onto the sea of the earth

Sun on earth, arriving pure - steam rising from damp earth-
Green shoots rising - young teeth and beaks nibbling-
Lizard-eye blinks, glazes, gazes at the sun

Clean as light in space-
Photons stream pure -
Prismatic split spews radiant colour vision in jelly-eye-
No room for darkness here.

number of comments: 3 | rating: 5 | detail

Ye Caterpillar, 19 march 2012

Old Crow

Old crow
your eyelids are grey
rapidly blinking
some small loose feathers fluttering
on your neck and tail.
Don’t fly away
I want to de-scribe you
I want to tell them
what colour you are.

number of comments: 2 | rating: 3 | detail

Ye Caterpillar, 1 april 2012

Shut Eyes Open

Once you twinkled and sparkled with life in life-
That was then.
Later they abandoned you
and decay rose up out of the Earth to sup
on your juices-
But you didn't mind-
How could you?

Nothing sinister happened-
that's just your imagination,
grinding colourful thoughts.
The odd tramp sneaked in and holed up for a while-
drinking.

The mist that fell that summer night
moved the mind of the poet.

One day, soon, the people
will move back in.
Children will laugh and throw crumbs
out of the old windows-
feeding warbling thrushes and chirping sparrows.

number of comments: 2 | rating: 1 | detail

Ye Caterpillar, 17 february 2012

LOREKEET LAUREATTE

Lorekeet Laureatte
You'll peck those words,
Motormouth motivatin'
Berries, cherries,
Pickin's rich in birds

Wingin' it, wordin' it,
Wearing whirring wings
Absurd i'n'it?
Spreadin' the word in it
Fly like a bird in it -
Land in the laurel,
singing
Lyre-Bird!
Now for your lyrics laurels
are conferred on you!
And subjects once taboo
You blew so open wide
Now the people see
inside of things
So spread those wings
Lauretta Poetta
Give those words
Some peacock feathers,
Aye?!

number of comments: 2 | rating: 2 | detail

Ye Caterpillar, 21 february 2012

INVETERATE INVERTEBRATE

Inveterate invertebrate
embrace a vertical rockface
facade of vetinary race
inverted, braced, a molecule's pace
mollycoddled molusc lusting
for the last bus,
in a flap
in a fuss
roaring full-born
dew-drop bull-horn

Tide swirling your
side twirling ripples
slithering in rivulets
letters ripped from catalogues
log-jams, lumbering word-jams,
verbose invertebrate
syllables coagulate
veering off a typeface
tentacles scrabbling for limp
pictorial hieroglyphs
glyphics mystic and molten cliffs
larva slips - hatching
in lunar eclipse
graphics grappled - coming to grips
inveterate invertebrate -
must it come to this?

number of comments: 1 | rating: 1 | detail

Ye Caterpillar, 17 february 2012

Trevow war dir

Fresk kommolek ebrenn
glas pilenn hwyth a-ves
tarosvann-pallenn
ha treusnija-leurienn dhe an bran

glyb gwels ---
mar nebes gwyr kath vlewek slynka
yn krogenek surkot

Dhuchais

Ur scamallach speir
glas giobal seid chun shiul
taibhse-cumhdach
agus eitilt-cairpead do an preachan

fluich fear - bideach bolb tealtaigh
sa sliogan cota

My Home Land

Fresh cloudy heaven
blue/grey/green rags blow away
ghost-blanket
and flying-carpet for the crow

wet grass ---
as a little furry caterpillar creeps
in carapace overcoat
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Notes:

This poem is cast in Cornish, Irish and English. Apologies to the Kelts for the liberties I've taken with these ancient and noble tongues.

'Glas' in Cornish can mean 'blue', 'green' or 'grey'. I associate this word with the changing colours of the sea. Occasionaly houses in Cornwall are called 'Glas Mor' - Grey/blue/green sea.

Alot of Irish words have accent-marks over them, but not sure if my machine will do this, so you'll have to put them in yourself...

I've asked the 'Jynn-amontya' (engine-amounter, or computer) to do a Polish metaphrasis - it's in the hands of the 9 Muses of the INTERnational NETwork - I hope they do a good job - I have no way of checking!

Moja Ojczyzny

Swieze zachmurzenie nieba
niebieski / szary / zielony szmaty zdmuchnac
duch-koc
I latajacy dywan-za wrony

mokra trawa -
jako maly futrzany gasienica skrada
w plaszczu pancerza

number of comments: 0 | rating: 2 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Other poems: HALLO WORLD BALL, JACK KEROUAC'S TYPEWRITER RHYTHM UNROLLS, Hollowed, Ghostmoney, JACKDAW, Mind Knowing Light, Remember When We Were Free?, Shut Eyes Open, The Caterpillar, Old Crow, SUMMER SUBPOEMA, INVETERATE INVERTEBRATE, Trevow war dir, LOREKEET LAUREATTE, These Days And Those Days, DUBSTEP HUBCAP, MALLOW THE FLEECY SLUMBERQUILT OF OWL-DOWN FOLDS, Greenhornhood,