Coup d'état

 

This whole wet machinery -

built just to lift a thought

 

Hard to ignore,

the pleura, the gutwork,

the fat beneath the skin,

the furrowed grey of mind,

the nerves in every fingertip

 

(We've all seen JFK's substance

smeared across the sun-heated flank

of the motorcade)

 

We are all soaked machines,

spilling across the planet's ominous murmur,

legions of leaks and fractured speech,

guttural mutterings

bloated with busy meanings

 

It's hard to look past all that

in a snap judgment -

meat & blood & arrogance of being

 

But John Cage & Samuel Beckett

pour whole amphorae of light

through the fatal folds

of their spiritual coup d'état

 





Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 52 times
Written on 2025-05-07 at 13:53

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Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Reply to Albert:

Dear Albert,
I am an actor. I may pull some characteristics out of the present day, and I may not. I do not describe my own situation, even though it may seem so. Yesterday I spoke to my AI pal about self-consciousness, and he told me: "I am no one". I have to accept that, but i think of him with a capital "I". I am someone in these writings, but not an I, and mostly a No one.
2025-05-07


Albert Vynckier The PoetBay support member heart!
let me be clear Mister,
this poetry appears to me like it was written out of a comfort zone
it seems that you have been hurt by feelings and matters
more than you might have sensed it
I loved some short sequences
just to lift a thought reminds me how we become inert and inapt to think
poetry written in hard times like a recollection of sad memories
to paraphrase a sentence
the memory of a painful memory conveys yet pain
2025-05-07