Europa Poets' Gazette No 73

I Was Not Shocked
I was not shocked to see the queens of night
As dancing Gascoigne tops stir up the dust
And so immerse into the flashing light
As floating, spicy bodies cherish lust.
These hot abstractions in their swaying song
Are focused on pure pleasure’s dream.
They mingle there as maggots’ wriggling throng,
Their heaven’s paradise as angel’s beam.
For every girl there were two boys to love.
The young and innocent enfolded face
That was most happy dancing in a huff:
The symbiotic itch must have its ways.
These pleasure pills are served on golden plates
To start the slide towards the hellish gates.
I Love You, Dear
I love you, dear, and so I must proclaim
That you, as Venus goddess, pity me.
Therefore I write, that you may know my claim
And tease me not with spurn and cruel glee.
I write these poems to express my grief
To conjure up these words of wit and charm
Where I have searched the dictionary leaf
To emulate our Sidney’s churn and yarn.
And still, the muse avoids my steaming mind,
Presents me with a pop of sterile song
Where others’ rhyme and reason may be kind
As scribbled fictions, they seem staid and wrong.
I hypnotise myself with laptop’s ware;
This poetaster’s brain is void and bare.
My God Awoke
My God awoke within my mother’s womb;
My father’s software swam to bring the key
To make a photocopy-double tomb
Into those billion gods that are now Me.
My God, whose ROM knew how to multiply
From deep within, constructed cell by cell
Its image from the software to the eye
To grow, like yeast, into a churning well.
Sometimes the ROM rebels into a crash
And misconstructs in just so many ways
That evolution is not always rash;
Its software drowns in viruses some days.
We are the sons of God as are my trillion cells;
All have the software that creates and tells.
© Joe Lake