46; UNDER COVID’S CARPET

•September 12, 2021 • Leave a Comment

Spring 2021 Report;

UNDER COVID’s CARPET

*

Under COVID’s all encompassing carpet

politicians have been able to cover up

all manner of unsightly Social & Political detritus.

*

Yes, as in the swirl of a Magician’s Cape,

vast Insurmountables are made to mysteriously disappear,

only to reappear sometime later, usually just after an election, to be found simmering forgotten on a Backburner,

‘somewhere out the back’.

Or else they undergo a strange sea-change

and metamorphise into unexpected forms..

(eg; The need to deal with The Climate Emergency suddenly becomes the trigger for a renewed campaign for Nuclear Energy. More Collateral than Lateral Thinking there, if you ask me).

Another example of Distracted Thinking; The shameful shambles of Afghanistan, would probably

be causing far more Social Angst amongst the Commentariat than it is, were it not for the fact that we are totally preoccupied with (coughs) ‘more Important Issues’ (sic), like whether our Personal Freedom is being impinged

by having to wear a face mask for Health reasons during a Viral Pandemic. (A First World Problem really, and a moot question, one might think, for someone already entombed in a Burkha).

But it’s Spring (well, it is for us folk in the Southern hemisphere) and young Sea Snakes are looking for Love!

These highly toxic, sea-going Serpents are Curious, Horny and apparently very Short-Sighted.

Consequently, after several, er, “incidents”,

Authorities have issued Public Warnings, advising Divers, Surfers & Swimmers in General,

that the best policy during such Encounters

is to remain still

& not panic

while the snakes explore your crevices,

and just wait till they get bored

and move on.

*

(Men, They’re all the same, hey?)

Meanwhile in another Lab, Oxytocin, and not Love (or indeed Reason) has been discovered to be the cornerstone of Human Society. This Happy, Happy-making drug is secreted in copious amounts by new born human Babies and has the power not only to turn the Mothers into doting slave zombies, but also “promotes empathy” in the Fathers. Not only do their receptors become hyper attuned to the drug’s deleterious effects, but Testosterone levels go down, reducing “Aggression”! “Skin to skin contact is important in driving hormonal changes” the Researchers note, nursing and cuddling becomes a Vector.

Interestingly, there is some suggestion that the superior ability of babies to secrete this behaviour modifying drug is due to changes in Human DNA, resulting from a Virus Infection acquired around 750,000 years ago,

that led to a horizontal transfer of viral genetic material.(A similar horizontal transfer of a Viruses genetic material some 40 Million years ago, resulted in the development of the Placenta and the subsequent rise of the Mammals!)

I await the formation of Protest Groups complaining that Vaccines are interfering with their ‘Right to Evole‘.

Ending with Happier News (an old Showbiz Tradition) I note in passing that in Washington, Military Spokes-creatures for the Pentagon have “re-branded” U.F.O.‘s (Unidentified Flying Objects),

which are now to be marketed as

U.A.P.‘s (Unexplained Aerial Phenomena),

and hired a Hip, Young Marketing Agency to launch the new Campaign.

Spake Agency Mouthling, Wayne Kerr;

“It’s a fun Product to promote and with careful packaging the Campaign should be successful in reaching out to other non-traditional demographics..

This Re-Labelling gives us the opportunity to reach out more to the younger generation.. Sure a lot of the Nerdier kids are into Sci-Fi already but market penetration is not optimal..”

“At first I wasn’t impressed with the early clips I saw”,

Kerr continued,

“the Production values were abysmal for one thing..

but then I saw how we could use that

to create a kind of gritty, grainy ‘Blair Witch’ type of Vibe,

but with Cyber-Punk elements”.

***

***

The Reverend Hellfire is a practised Performance Poet,

a seasoned Songster and an Ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanism.

Cash in Hand only.

***

47; A Gentle House-Husband’s Complaint!

•September 5, 2021 • Leave a Comment

It’s Father’s Day and to Celebrate this Hallowed Occasion we reprint this classic Tribute by the Reverend

to the Trials of Modern Fatherhood. Enjoy!

A Gentle House-Husband’s Complaint

*

Oh,

the Mopping, the Shopping,

the Dropping of Children,

off at the School or the Pool.

*

The Cleaning, (Demeaning),

and the Tasks I am Meaning

to do in the Time. (Minuscule)

*

The Washing, the Sloshing,

the Cat that needs Watching,

and the Chickens Escape. (As a Rule)

*

The Cooking, the Looking

at Calender Bookings,

The Phone calls from Scammers and Fools!

*

To my Daughter, I am Chauffeur,

to my Neighbour, “a Loafer”,

to my Partner, a Convenient Tool.

But at Night when at Rest,

She will some times Confess,

at my Best I’m a Romantic Fool!

*

***

***

The Reverend Hellfire is a practised Performance Poet, an Ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanism and a fond and doting Father.

Who’d a thunk it.

***

48; LANGDWIDGE

•August 22, 2021 • Leave a Comment

LANGDWIDGE

*

I‘ve learnt the hard way

that you can’t trust the Word/ Oh No No No!

Sure, they seem Stable

& Solid enuff/ Stolid even/ then, like an Earthquake

shrugging it’s shoulders,

Language will suddenly shift

& change beneath our very feet/

the brittle surface buckles & bends/

cracks & crumbles

like a /Faberge egg made of sugar

/the Rules of Grammar themselves

go slowly drifting around the Globe

like Continental Plates/ Down below

the Bedrock of Language itself is

always shifting

and mumbling away in it’s sleep/

subjected to enormous pressures

as it dreams/ It stirs, grumbling

& snorting & the layers

tilt & warp/

compacting & contracting

down to Acronymns

and Abbreviations/

Nouns become Verbs/

Verbs become Adjectives/

Declension declines/

and you can’t tell the Girls

from the Boys anymore.

*

But, LOL! I am Guilty too!

There’s blood on my hands

as I write.

*

***

SQUAREY! is recovering from his Brit-Crime-Drama Binge,

so here’s the Reverend Hellfire & the Tapeloops

turned into Platonic Forms.

Enjoy

*

****

The Reverend Hellfire is a practised Performance Poet

and an Ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanism.

48 already. How doth the time fly by.

****

49; Chant of the Ancient Activist

•August 15, 2021 • Leave a Comment

Anarchist Militia, Spain, 1936

CHANT OF THE ANCIENT ACTIVIST

*

I might be Right

I might be Wrong

but still I’ll Stand

and sing my Song

I’ll add my Drop

to turn the Tide

while Others run

and Others hide.

Though Wearied by

the passing Years

weighed down by Doubt,

Regret and Tears

I’ll add my Drop

to turn the Tide

Though I would Fain

lie down and Die.

-for the Anarchists

 

Melbourne Anarchist festival, May 1986 (author in backrow, 3rd from left)

Authors note re the Melbourne photo; These are all the Anarchists who could still get up early on Sunday morning after the Anarchist Ball (Featuring my band of course!) the night before. We had got up early to see four minutes of a 30’s black & white film of Emma Goldman being interviewed, this being 1986 with no Internet so that is what you did to see rare footage back then.

***

More Normal

silent-majority-escaping-green-Future

***

The Reverend Hellfire…

still hasn’t left in the Building.

***

50; Old Man in the Mirror

•August 8, 2021 • Leave a Comment

Old Man in the Mirror

*

I was startled one morning

to discover an Old Man

in my Mirror.

He was draped in cobwebs so

possibly he’d been there for quite awhile

and I just hadn’t been paying attention,

but, nonetheless,

I was annoyed..

“Who the Hell are you”, I demanded,

“& what have you done with my Youth?!”

The Old Man smirked

and leered knowingly..

Don’t you remember?” he sniggered,

You were there the whole time!

Well“, he conceded, “most of it“,

Times you weren’t actually passed out

that is!”


Here I hesitated. Recall was patchy,

but bits were starting to come back to me..

“Hmm. Hmm..” I said.

Yeah, that’s right Buddy!

the Old Bastard gloated,

The Indulgences! The Excesses!

The Late Nights, the Floozies, the Ill-Advised Companions!

The Wasted Years! The Misspent Youth!”

“Tsk tsk!” he tutted,

shaking his hoary locks in mock sorrow.

“Damn your bleary, blood-shot eyes!”, I retorted,

“I was led astray! I was Naive and Impressionable!”

That’s a Laugh“, the Aged Apparition scoffed,

and started quoting from an invisible Rap Sheet;

You were kicked out of three Kindergartens..

In Primary School they used to

put you in the furthest corner

in the back row where you couldn’t

-“act as a Bad Influence’

or “distract” the other Pupils..

Later your own Mother used to warn

your new girlfriends when she met them,

not to be led astray by you and waste their lives

like you were doing! Haw haw!” he chuckled,

then pulling himself together,

presented his conclusion, “Face it.

You might have looked like a Cherub,

but you were no Angel!

“Fine.. Yeah.. Sure.. Whatever… the old bitch..”

I conceded with bad grace, as the

implications sunk in.

“But I used to get by

on my good looks and youthful charm!”

I protested,

“Now all I have left is my Sense of Humour,

my Kindly Personality

& my Wealth of Worldly Wisdom

& Practical Skills,

hard won after a Lifetime’s Experience..

What good is that going to do me!?!!”

I whined with surly petulance.

All our Operators are busy..

mocked my unkempt doppelgänger,

please hold on..

your enquiry.. is.. important/

/to us.

But I’d had enough of the filthy brute

by now, & I needed Caffeine too,

so I turned on the shower taps full bore/

hot streams of water gushed/ rejuvenating warmth

of steam clouds

came billowing forth.

“Maybe next time

I should bring a Hammer”,

I threatened.

Maybe next time

you should read

The Picture of Dorian Grey,

first!“, He

 muttered enigmatically,

as he disappeared

into the Mirror’s deepening fog.

Wellll.. a Shit,

Shave, Shower & a Shoeshine later

& a couple of Cups of Coffee

to wash down a big slug of cough syrup

all had me looking Twenty years younger

in a good light, and

maybe it was just the codeine talking,

but redyeing my hair again, I reflected,

as I basked in a wave of self-deception

as warm as the Morning Sun,

should shave another Ten years away, easy!

And thus shrugging off the morning’s

ghastly Manifestation in the Mirror,

of the Ghost of the Future Come,

I went whistling my way out into the World,

though it must be admitted

with a somewhat uneasy heart,

and I tried not to look

too hard as I passed

at my reflection

in the shop windows.

ENVOI;

And the Moral, dear Reader,

I will cheerfully reveal,

for the Truth is in fact,

it is not how you Feel!

So write down this Wisdom

in a big, black-bound Book!

For ‘The Secret of Youth’ is;

“You’re as Young as you Look!”

***

***

***

The Reverend Hellfire is a practised Performance Poet,

an Ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanists

and one of the last remaining members of a soon to be extinct species.

As such his pelt fetches a high price amongst collectors.

***

51; Covid Poem No.1,THE WEEK THAT WASN’T

•August 1, 2021 • Leave a Comment

COVID POEM #1;

THE WEEK THAT WASN’T

*

It was the Week that didn’t happen.

Most days I hardly woke up,

the City was in Lockdown anyway/ the

Borders closed/ I had hoped

that at least the streets

would be empty for a change/ but

they were full of Police

and Soldiers manned the Checkpoints.

So I opted for Hibernation

& avoiding Responsibility by text.

Spent the day smoking

& drinking cups of tea instead

while I watched a patch of Sun crawl slowly

across the kitchen floor.

Eventually my partner returned

bearing the fruits of her

Hunter-Gathering

and reports of the Outer World;

Now we all wear a Mask

She said.

We always did,

I told her,

it’s just that nobody noticed.

*

***

***

***

The Reverend Hellfire..

He’s always there if you really need him.

You know.. like Batman

***

52; The Cookie Crumbles!

•July 18, 2021 • Leave a Comment

THE COOKIE CRUMBLES

*

Off Line

Off the Grid

Flick the Switch

& You are hid,

Ditch the Phone & you are rid

of Cyber Observation..

Or are you?

Blow the Whistle

Flip the Lid

Find out where

the Money’s hid,

Name the Names

and you are rid

of Corporate Tax Evasion..

Or are you?

Sell a Kidney

Sell a Kid,

All Fresh Falung Gong

so make a bid,

Or go to War

and you are rid

of Communist Infiltration..

Or are you?

*

***

*

***

***

The Reverend Hellfire..

the Countdown continues..

***

53; How to Deal with an Angry Sweetheart

•July 11, 2021 • Leave a Comment

How to Deal with an Angry Sweetheart

*

My Sweetheart was Angry at me.

It was my fault really, I

always had a Weakness

for Stroppy Women.

It’s a Fatal Flaw

in my character armour/

my Achilles Heel, I suppose.

*

Fortunately I have developed

techniques for defusing

Situations

of unwarranted Angst.

I swung swiftly, therefore, into Action..

*

I Love you Sweetheart!” I said,

smiling Innocently.

“Oh No You Don’t!!”, she Fumed,

“You can’t just wiggle out

of Everything like that!”

But it was too late.

I was already on my roll..

I gave a wholesome, hearty laugh.

“You know,” I confided,

as though the Idea had

just suddenly struck me

and I was sharing the thought,

“You’ll miss my hearty Laughter

when I’m Dead.”

“Grrrr!” she growled warningly,

but I paid no heed.

*

“You know,” I said thoughtfully,

as I sidled up to her and slid

a serpentine arm round her waist,

“You’ll miss my serpentine arm

sliding around your waist

when I’m Dead!”

Sure. . she still grumbled,

but with less Authority now,

like a thunder-storm rumbling

off into the distance.

*

“You know,” I continued,

murmuring slyly,

& leaning closely

into her warmth,

“You’ll miss me gently

nibbling the edge of your Ear,

when I’m Dead!”

And I gave Demonstration

of the Fact.

Yes, it was an old Gambit,

but even after all these years

her Moral Resolve, as always,

collapsed quite gratifyingly at this point

into giggling & general squirming

and soon Domestic Harmony

reigned once more Supreme

in the happy, Hellfire Household.

*

Later on I reflected,

how Fortunate it was for me,

that my Sweethearts’ Achilles’ Heel

should be her pretty Earlobe..

*

***

***

***

The Reverend Hellfire is a practised Performance Poet etc etc..

No-one reads this bit anyway..

***

54; CLARITY

•July 4, 2021 • Leave a Comment

CLARITY

*

“Let me speak clearly..”

said the Politician.

“Oh God Yes!”

groaned a weary Nation,

“For just once

in your Mealy-mouthed,

Mendacious,

Dissembling,

Lying,

Obfuscating,

Slogan-happy Life,

just once..

please..

speak clearly.”

***

***

***

***

55; Shacking up with Charybdis

•June 27, 2021 • Leave a Comment

Shacking up with Charybdis

*

I lived in an Aquarium

filled with beautiful Fish,

drifting dreamlike amidst the coral,

Seductive as Sirens,

Innocent as a Mermaid’s breasts,

their empty, Kohl-dark eyes lured

many a lonely Mariner

onto the rocks

and down into Depths

they never suspected existed,

as all the while

we robbed them shamelessly.

Sirens :: World Mythology

Admission was by Appointment only,

and the Entry Fee not cheap.

Still, there were always Customers

keen to Queue for a view

from the Observation Deck/

by the Velvet Ropes

a Clutch of Voyeurs clustered

moaning for access

to an Imagined World.

No description available.

As beautiful as any

of the Aquariums’ other Inhabitants,

I played many and unexpected Roles;

Part Magician

pulling Mysterious Strings to make

my pretty puppets dance/

Part Maid-Servant

forever dusting the furniture.

Outsiders speculated endlessly

on my True Role in the Aquarium.

Sometimes,

so did I.

No description available.

Ended up like Cleopatra;

rolled up like an old carpet

and shoved under the bed

to gather dust/ tormented

by glimpses of bare legs

& the imagined squeak

of bed-springs overhead/

like some staged scene playing

in a bawdy Bedroom Farce/ Old

when the Roman Empire was New.

Lying amongst the dust,

no-one suspected

that it was me in Control

all along.

Mask - Simple English Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

***

No description available.

***

***

The Reverend Hellfire is a practised Performance Poet and a buncha other stuff that don’t make sense…

Meh!

***