Category: Poetry

Poems, shards, fragments, prose, experiments

  • Corona Cypher – First Thought Best Thought

    Corona Cypher – First Thought Best Thought

    Hi, in contrast to my blog yesterday, I’ve let my words fly in a first-thought best-thought cypher, to imagine a vaccination potion full of verbs and motion.

    Soul vaccination,
    All across the nation people been catchin’ honkypox (Honkypox)
    When you get the notion,
    Tower’s got the potion – you might look in to set yourself in motion.
    Soul Vaccination, Tower Of Power (What Is Hip)

    Patience patient paint that paradise
    Dr immuno’ flow help you throw the dice, thrice
    Who know what you think you know, let it go
    Let it flow, spring come lift the light plant and grow
    Wash em’ lift it up and push it up keep vibes up high
    Planet spinning on its axis, rapid climate renewal
    Quick death of toxic stock in fossil fuel?
    Banking crash human race nineteen meter dash
    French minister of culture cumming out with the rash
    Johnson and Trump eye the cash king, econo-money over people?
    Putin wins republican tory vote
    Billions of particles dormant in throat
    The vote spoiled crops and oats
    Stop the blame game, same game, stop the wheels
    Not with a bang but with a whimper
    Better get a woolly jumper, spring has sprung
    Equinox 2020 indoors tracking thought spores up walls
    Banish fears and move forward like new years
    Watch the fossil fuel weasels fight in their hole
    Watch the Eagle, the Bear, The Unicorn and Vulture
    Reach for the bowl, good for the soul and the journey
    Euthanasia king now fight kapow
    Hemp futures, plant a seed, that’s what we need
    Fight greed with surplus, forests mighty string
    Food fibre fuel, come on fool…I’ll be your mule
    Grow that hemp for victory
    To fight the king 19 viruses, microbial and global
    Use your head heart and irises
    Look, listen, shine glisten
    Now be that change, stay in range, set your sights
    Like Noah we move tongues to a new dark 3.0 cypher
    “Oh no…” but stand up and face the music, don’t go
    Be the forward thinking solutions oriented one
    Like, ride your bike
    Take a hike
    Don’t touch that rail, feed the poor and make them  strong
    Look after your prisoners,
    Hold your officials to their word
    Wash your hands, flush the turd
    Attention to word mind body
    You’re not going to die be strong, hold on buddy
    Here’s a hand not a head-in the sand
    Here’s a jazz solo, a new album, a brand new band
    Over air, sea and land, in hope you better understand
    Rhyme can unleash endorphins
    And endolphins swim with dolphins
    Prose vaccination for experimentation
    Try it, don’t buy it grow your own
    Put down that toilet roll put down your phone
    Wash your hands and put em’ in the air
    Wave em’ like you care
    Mash on son, mash on with compassion
    Get your grow on, go on
    Earth and humanity needs you and what you grew
    Make a new garden crew
    Do what you need to do to prevent flu
    Stay high, fly, CBDJ “Hi,”
    Feed your immune system with funny thoughts
    Play mind games and put out doubt with flames
    Quote facts and peer-reviewed names to reignite
    Each and every night unravel your talk tapes mi’ mates
    More toxic than J.P Morgan
    Monsanto and a five-year-old bag of rotten potato
    From the get-go King Virus by contamination
    Like the four horseman in the Tesco lasagna
    Animal traffick led to…
    Pick up the mic and go endemic to prevent panic
    With a goat, sceptre, and pot plandemic
    Slammdemic dem
    Murder virus sound
    Kill that virus sound
    Slamm Dem Pandem Mandem standin’ firm
    Throw water on it, fire, earth, blow it away?
    No gun or bomb can shoot this King dead
    Spreading like all memes trending at once, widespread dread
    All Ornette Coleman solo’s at once
    A William Gibson meets John le Carre’ finale’
    Humanity run off down the motorway like a headless Pangolin
    Mis-identified as link between animals and humans (My Bad!)
    News and gov still manglin’
    Vultures anglin’
    Life lines be danglin’
    Who’s who is handling?
    Ching Ming….CHING MING
    What good governance?
    Utterance, for a dollar, do a Johnson trap dance
    Pulling out while Cummings keeps on Cumming
    In Putin’s mouth
    Snivilization slouches further south
    No worries, it’ll soon come around
    Table turn around sounds fresh and loud
    Disperse to move the crowd, us discoronians stick apart
    Stay one meter away and claim your space
    Make your ritual space in that place
    Surround yourself with good omens
    Cleanse banish power up be here now
    Wash your hands and then touch your face
    Speak with sincerity, move with a trellis of lace, with grace
    Rhyme to climb into the head and bring relief
    Boost your immune system with some sexual relief
    No tissue, use a handkerchief
    Turn grief to a new leaf, good greaf?
    Sacrifice for greener futures
    That healthy planet for the young the dinosaurs refused?
    A death sentence for business
    The end of the dinosaur age is messy
    Goodbye T-Rex, goodbye Nessy
    Oil and fossil fuel industry made dust, past history
    Toxic debts and bonds fall like towers unwashed money
    Another bust boom bust boom!
    Evidence capitalist governmints made of sand-men
    Who do you trust?
    World market kept up by tent poles made of jelly and marzipan
    International unrestricted finance capitalism
    Pandemic running loose infecting humans for millennia, check it
    If Language is a virus from outer space so is money, burn it
    A Pangolin Bat broth dissolved trillions
    Gobble gobble gobble they earned it
    Hairs on the arms of billionaires and millionaires flare
    You can imagine them looking into space
    From a Yacht, that stare
    No blame, stop hating, we need to come together and stick apart
    And keep masterbating
    Wankers against the second come-king
    Our leader’s Russel Brand and Milley Ray Cirus
    You’re gonna need pliers to get me out of bed
    Stuck to the sheets by my leaky prik-stick spread
    Who’s the illest now?
    Beat the virus
    Go wireless and tell a tireless solo choir-less let’s go
    Don’t fight forces use them,
    Learn to love the illness and embrace darkness in fullness
    And shine light, illuminate, stimulate sexdrive
    To produce white blood cells
    Mind body speech, word sound power, wash pray spit and shower
    Cleanliness is next to holiness, be the pollen and the flower
    Dethrone King virus and lock it away in a tinder box.
    Not from terrorists but bats and pangolin
    Pang, pang, pang, pang, with a pang and with a whimper
    Solidarity with all in discomfort from hunger loneliness
    Suffering from Corvid19, heartbreak or regular flu
    My thoughts and virtual arms just dropped the mic to hug you
    Fight back with A G C and T
    It’s only about 8 Kilobytes, put em’ up,
    Language is the key, break the spell do it well, duck, weave, duck duck
    invocation not required, they’re all around touch taste sound smell
    On earth and inner neurological spaces, as in heaven as in hell
    Places to bottle up solutions and write new potions
    To kill the King Virus and bring hope to nations
    Yes we can figure out preventative medicine
    Starting with high dose sessions of psilocybin
    Stay high and happy, positive, keep vibing
    Calling all gods and goddesses worldwide and beyond
    From the Compton Length to Hubble’s Red-Shift
    Under mountain, glacier and pond
    Give us a hond’
    Every quantum super-computer and solid-state entity
    Each and every discarnate spirit, ghost, an angel hear me
    There’s no part of me that’s not of the gods, you neither
    What are the odds, really, what are they cuddlies?
    Who’s the patient zero breeder?
    May the researchers find luck and perspire little
    May the ancestor animal and insect spirits rise from this spittle
    And bring the entheogenic dimension of love to our eyes
    Love all the people, the plants and the flies
    Take rest on your low points, take flight on your highs
    Do art and dance, sing keep an eye out for all
    Up there on the ceiling and above the roof from the floors to the wall
    Keep death on a pale horse at bay
    The return of the King
    Who would want such a thing
    Who wears the crown of thorns
    What religious leader can end all wars
    Biological peacemaker or lifetaker?
    Poems dark turn toward scripture, tongues burn
    A crown of thorns corona
    The second coming of Christ, Koronagain
    Judgement Day Coronopalypse
    Convictions make convicts?
    If you wish to put it that way and let it past your lips?
    I say neigh, not on my watch, not tomorrow and not today
    Pick any scripture, any month, any day and fire away and say
    Any event from the last five years signifies end times
    Judgement day, the apocalypse
    World populist political surge and 2008 banking heist scourge
    Economic corporate fascist free-reign, acid rain, Bottcher con main
    Climate and environmental lies, deceit…
    Take your pick…from the familiar terrain, stay rational
    Don’t lose your nerve
    Just cuz’ Christ wore a crown of thorns
    And his mythical return to judge
    Humanity does not mean
    The Jesuspect Christereotype is guilty, does it?
    Cleanliness next to holiness
    From animal kingdom hunted and trafficked
    To near extinction by an appetite for meat and status, meat death
    Better get in touch with your immune system, direct line please
    Hello, hi, hello, can you hear me, this is…..
    Hello, hey, are you there, this…this is steve”
    As I said, take those magic mushrooms, get up, get out of bed
    Stand up be strong lead the way to health and fitness, break bread
    Get ready to fight and to encourage others
    Rhyme with reason be tough
    Be brave write it out, fears and cheers together
    The light and dark Escher effect
    What happened to bird flew and wine flu?
    Word flew, bird said, word stew, me brew tea brew
    The vaccine is at the bottom of the mushroom teacup
    With chunks of some Amanita or other?
    Use mushrooms for good god damn it
    Within the poison may lie the cure?
    I’ll smoke spliff an’ listen to Rob Smiff
    Love you, stay safe.

    –Steve Fly Agaric 23.

    Some links…

    See Also:
    https://www.jstage.jst.go.jp/article/antibiotics1968/40/6/40_6_904/_article/-char/ja/

    https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/f685/c5844a712ce145a5366c97c42aee4c90deac.pdf

    https://foreignpolicy.com/2020/02/27/coronavirus-south-korea-cults-conservatives-china/

     

  • THOUGHTS: WHERE DO THEY GO?

    “If you let liars into the government, you put everybody at risk”–James O’ Brien, a few minutes ago on LBC talk radio, UK.

    Whenever I’m fortunate enough to catch one of my own thoughts and follow it, I try to imagine how such a similar thought may arise in others. You can save a lot of time by working to slow the avalanche of distracting thoughts using traditional methods, follow your breath, sit still, isolate your consciousness temporarily to recharge and repair. However, a lot of people consider meditation as pass/time for snowflakes, and need further nudging and poking to begin to recognize the importance of trying to follow their thoughts and questioning where they come from and where they go? And how often are you updating that data-set?

    A healthy mid/waypoint between Zen meditation and simply changing your mind about something revolves around the language that you use and how you use it. The introduction of a few modifications to a language can produce results similar to those gained from meditation, they can affect a new expanded awareness, from the individual psychological sense of self…to the ontological social-cultural sense of reality. Every time we hear, think and speak we are confronted with the paradox of Language vs. The Equation.

    The symbol systems we use to communicate our message and those we leave out are worthy of meditation. Meditation, to return to the theme, or some kinds of meditation…aim to reach beyond language and bridge the ideological gaps, to move towards experiencing things as they actually are: perpetually changing, decentralized, incomprehensible. And invoking compassion to fill the holes of what cannot be known.

    “Language is a virus from outer space.”–William S. Burroughs.

    In all seriousness and sincerity, we should all spend a moment to meditate on Coronavirus and where possible, try to follow our thoughts, our hopes and our fears. Try to track them to where they originate, where is the source of those thoughts and where are those thoughts going to…and now? This process of self-analysis and listening to your own head and heart, once in touch with your own mind-body system, can be shifted to cast judgement on others or external signals from…out there. Hopefully with compassion due to understanding the process you’ve just been through, like solidarity, not a choice but duty when faced with the incomprehensible, the uncertain and the indeterminate of a global pandemic turning endemic. We must search for that common ground between all human beings, such as to wish them a happy healthy life, for example. Wish well, wish hard, wish often. Practice practice practice.

    The global coronavirus brings complexity and chaos to the existing complexity/chaos/disorder inherent in subject-object duality, underlying most division and confusion around the world, the roots of disinformation? To repeat, never give up trying to understand that which you currently do not, experiment, research, measure, study, and in equal measure…both on yourself and on others…the internal and external infinite flux of beingness. Man, and women, is the measure of all things, somebody else said.

    To conclude: If you want to fight for your future and live in a healthy, well-informed community of self-owning ones, consider starting by following your own thoughts, where do they come from, where do they go? Then if your feeling brave, begin to use the same logic and reason, the same thought tools to break down the news headlines and the gossip down the pub and the WHO guidelines and each and every message communicated down to the very last pixel, or phoneme.

    “Free your mind and your ass will follow…”–Funkadelic.

    Thanks for reading, stay safe.
    Love all the people!

    –Steve Fly

    [DISCLAIMER: I make no claim to expertise in meditation or spiritual practises. I’m more of the “do what thou wilt to find compassion for others” persuasion. As we head into a spiritual and material crisis, I recommend a linguistic hazmat suit, neurolinguistic relativity and multi-model agnosticism to nudge us towards a compassionate, interconnected, co-operative global village.]

    http://www.hilaritaspress.com/

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dzogchen

    https://www.wired.com/beyond-the-beyond/2020/03/journalists-toolbox-studying-coronavirus/


    A song I wrote called THOUGHTS, based up some of the above.

    Occupy by Dr Marshmallow Cubicle

     

     

  • FUCK BORIS JOHNSON BEAT JUGGLE

    FUCK BORIS JOHNSON BEAT JUGGLE

    A DJ Fly beat juggle feat. Jason of Sleaford Mods (Mcflurry) and Pharoahe Monch (Fuck You).

     

  • FACT CHECK, 1-2

    FACT CHECK, 1-2

    Introduction: I woke up this morning and rhymed my mind wheels. Enjoy, love, fly.

    Fact check and false check chicken neck
    Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
    Ignorant ain’t cha’

    I look pale but I got this tribal trail for yer’
    A big whale, like a shark fish swimming tour
    Eternally 23, names wordsley
    Off the top get a mop cuz’ brexshit moves sleazey
    You tease me, with the promise of rhyme
    Debase me, with crime-minister prime

    I’m coming for Boris with Jez and Chuck Norris
    We gonna’ plant a forest, we gonna’ chant a chorus
    For poets who come before us, and claw us a torus

    In spore us inspire us can’t tire us with tyrants
    My family migrants with floral fragrance not vagrants
    This ones for the vegans pagans and Finnegans
    Rap shenanigans in my shattergums sugar-plumb fairy songs
    Sculptured bongs in cultured dishes, make three curses
    And bake four wishes

    Get some tissues, for this fission-fusion
    Boris and Mogg And Farage mirage illusion
    Contusion contortion, lies and distortion
    More than their portion of sleepy Eaton potion
    Dribbled out to the nation
    Logic on ration
    The P.M loves fashion
    And the fashion is fascism and isms and schism
    First-class division for second class vision

    Fact check and false check chicken neck
    Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
    Ignorant ain’t cha’

    Fuck Boris, don’t let the lies permeate
    Hold the motherfucker to each word turd mate
    Tabloid media failing yer big tech selling yer’
    Big dicks swinging yer getting fucked I’m tellin’ yer
    Wake up smell it year
    The writings pun the wall and it’s led by donkeys
    The two blonde beasts were both bred by honkies
    War carded, retorytarded
    fart in the face of democracy, Trump
    A bull in the office of orifice, Boris

    So I leave that behind and get my ass outside
    Take a trip to the park and go “weeeee” down the slide
    I skip some dog shit and write a new hit
    I got more on my shoe than I know what to doo-doo with
    so I pick it and flip it and scrape some more off
    While thinking of Putin and Mikhail…Gorbachev
    Having a loff’ getting shit of my shoes
    The arbitrary rhyme scheme to mean tepid blues

    It looked like choco ice cream but
    Tasted like marmite mixed with
    Vaseline, a brexshit dream

    Fact check and false check chicken neck
    Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
    Ignorant ain’t cha’

    Well listen, they’re not all this, and all that
    I’m not all steve and I’m not all Pratt
    Don’t carry a gat or a bat or gun
    Just a couple of pens, some vinyl and drum
    Ruppa-Pum-Pummel your feet with stones
    Eat hot dog buns with spiced microphones

    Fight waves and resistance with minimal drag
    like a sea hag witch shaman poet slag
    lightning bolt one-leg from Winnipoop-peg
    Smoked your last roach and drank the last dreg

    Goodbye summer wine hello winter rant
    When I write off the dome its me, ste, itinerant
    Squinity butterfly sprinty, with an Irish tint
    Favourite colours green, and flavour mint

    I put your tongue in a splint
    And sent your eyeballs to Clent
    Nose to the grind
    And ears important
    Head in the clouds and feet on the slab
    Gimme some acid to unleash my splift’ of the gob

    These rhymes on a cob
    This life of a slob, firing back at the mob
    Who lost you your job
    With lies from their club
    I shoot with this dub
    I scoot to the nub
    Just dance to the sub
    Sit up, don’t be a slouch like Mogg
    Be like Jez
    Make plans to heal this mezz’
    Confess and test the best of yourself
    Get abreast of yourself
    Find the rest of yourself
    Find the others

    Oh, oh, oh….find, the others
    Agree to tolerate their manias
    If they can tolerate yours
    Be like flipper not Jaws
    Take a walk take a pause
    Reflect and direct the love in all ways
    The hated are fated to be elated with antiquated hate

    Fact check and false check chicken neck
    Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
    Ignorant ain’t cha’

    A poet avoids rhyme like the plague
    Forcing clarity of sanity distinguished from vague
    These rhymes are childish
    Puns served hot and mildish
    English tingle ish’ single this, finger lift, to right wing toffs

    I wish I wish in just one stanza
    You’d explain the brexit extravaganza
    Hex it, stop it, smell it, chuck it, heal it, steal it,
    Few walk the talk, few truly feel it
    If you want to fight Trump you have to stop Brexit
    That’s it, in a nutshell, a gut smell, say what now?
    What punk-rock rap includes lyrics from Bercow?
    Get justified ancient and Moo Moo
    Come together and tackle the doo-doo

    Fact check and false check chicken neck
    Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
    Ignorant ain’t cha’

    Fact check, 1-2.

    –Steve Fly 9th, October, 2019. Amsterdblam.

    STEVE FLY: SELECTED POETRY

  • Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson And Donald John Trump Are Falling

    Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson And Donald John Trump Are Falling
    Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson And Donald John Trump Are Failing

    The leaders of the free world
    Who occupy the highest orifices
    In the United States of America
    And the United Kingdom
    Will fall due to the weight

    Of truth pushing down on them
    As they punch down upon the
    Vulnerable with their Uranium tipped
    Shells and bullshit tipped austerity
    In league with criminals and

    Murderers Johnson and Trump
    51st state tag team gropers
    Lies skating doubles champions
    Top footbullshit goal scorers
    Track and field and destroy stars

    Wearing lies and deceit on their sleeve
    Racism on their foreheads
    English American German Russian
    What is nationality to a global terrorist?
    Both top of their first division division division

    I salute those who stand up and speak truth
    To madman Boris de Pfeffel and Dog Trump
    A twenty-four seven three sixty-five fifty-one state
    Meditation to not become like them
    Do not lose your centre fighting a hot fudge Sunday

    Watch them trip and fall into the swamp they made
    Fall off the walls they made (Humpty de Pfeffel Trumpty)
    Celebrate journalism now! by
    Fact checking your news and watching F For Fake
    Peace comes of communication
    May warmongers choke on their own entropy

    Boris and Donald are falling
    Boris and Donald are failing
    Boris and Donald are falling
    Boris and Donald are failing

    Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson And Donald John Trump Are Falling
    Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson And Donald John Trump Are Failing

    Repeat Infinitum…

  • Deep Scratch – Release

    Deep Scratch – Release

    Hi,

    Please consider supporting Deep Scratch at https://www.patreon.com/stevefly

    Expect fireworks, audio, video.

    Much love, Steve Fly

    DEEP SCRATCH ONE

  • “Borrisalooner” – James Joyce, Finnegans Wake, Chapter 23. (Page 337)

    The future prophesy reported to surround the highly weird book, Finnegans Wake (1939) can be evidenced here: Chapter 23, page 337. Sounds a lot like Boris Johnson to me, and my sentiment asking for buds, and order. John Bercow anyone. I am incorrigible too. Boris the LOONER, and Boris Johnson the loner. Spot on jim.

     

    We want Bud. We want Bud Budderly. We want Bud Budderly
    boddily. There he is in his Borrisalooner. The man that shunned
    the rucks on Gereland. The man thut won the bettlle of the
    bawll. Order, order, order, order!

    http://www.trentu.ca/faculty/jjoyce/fw-337.htm

    p.s Joyce wore a Borsalino hat.

  • Word And Deed Thought And Policy Speech Act And Written Word

    “Freedom is the name for the thing that is not freedom”–Herman Melville

    Missing in the dominant formulation is the difference between word and deed, thought and policy, between speech act and written word, what is outside or what is inside a chain of command, what is rendered powerless and illegitimate. What does it mean when an Amiri Baraka or Ward Churchill writes or says something? Why does it mean something different when a secretary of Defense, a general, or a CEO of a large corporation says or writes something?–Ammiel Alcalay, A Little History, pg. 177

    https://www.upsetpress.org/double-book-release-ammiel-alcalay/