- Books, Literature, and Writing
Subprime loan - a poem
Subprime loan - redistributed stolen lines
According to the theory of transcendental evolution
The non-local interconnectedness distribution is not strictly homogenous
The subject of psychokenesis is a virtual non-starter
Consciousness would be localised inside the skull
So these electron symmetries, as Bohm called them, or
Cartesian quadrants syncopated into rhythmic strings,
Collapsed the dimensional hinges, de-localising the zeitgeist,
And would necessitate enlarged gonadic Viking expeditions
Bankrolled by Mrs Entwhistle’s purse engorged with gold dabloons –
The stratigraphical occurrences of non-ammonoid cephalopods in the Late-Silurian
And, more worringly, Great White Shark monsters outside J.P.Morgan
Enticing mammalian fauna, conjured the slight of hand inside the interglacical.
The Greeks had a name for this creature - Enkelados
Child of Gaia fertilized by the blood of castrated Ouranos
But inframarginal borrowers with different default risks can,
Through the intergenerational transmission of inequality,
Realise a net present value inherent in the cadence of silage
This is alchemy pure and simple
And, above all, my leopard gecko is not well.
A friend works at Merril Lynch in London, when I asked him about the financial instruments that had caused the great meltdown, he said that he had looked at them and didn't understand how they worked or, more to the point, how they could work - so in his job as a financial adviser he had never advised his clients to invest in the weird packages that lead to the bust. Apparently, during the time of the boom his department was looked upon as boring - now he has had the last laugh, as his section, because of his Scottish common sense, has survived whereas many others have walked out the door holding their box of stationery.
- Haikus - Needs must
Wanting to produce a hub but lacking any inspiration came across a hub by Russ Baleson about haiku. They're easy to write, probably impossible to write well but best of all they're fun in a cryptic...
- Finsbury Park Station - a poem
I have seen the death certificate died in Islington Workhouse 1914 Dead toes under starched sheets A name in copperplate - a plumber in Angel Court Inside my veins I carry the blood of people who...
- London - poems
These two poems were on a previous hub of four poems (Poems with no home) but I thought it was more logical to separate them by theme (vaguely). London take me back to that place where faces are only...
- Poems with no home
Have had poems lying dormant on my hard drive. They needed a home, so I've moved them here. I can never decide whether I like my poems or not! If you read them I hope you like them. Three poems made...
- Desert poem
Returning from living six months in a small coastal desert town in Saudi Arabia, a roundabout outside London's Gatwick airport seemed like the Amazon jungle, so green, so lush. The emptiness of the desert was...