Skip to main content

Education, The Holy Roman Empire & Alcohol

 On My Own Again

(Longer Poem Preamble)

 

1.

The mechanical relic

Has a sense of romanticism

Despite what we know about

The Industrial Age –

People’s minds are strange

 

2.

I would like

One day

To see the paintings

Of the playwright

August Strindberg

 

3.

My mind is an

Inconstant thing

Is it so for you?

 

Maybe certain

BIG THINGS move

Around more slowly

Like clouds

Like ice floes

 

But the small

Things like

Writing

Move/Fluctuate quickly

 

As they are often

Less resilient

To changes in

Mood & personal

Circumstances

 

I’d vowed last

Night

The whiskey made

Me do it

 

To do a Rilke

& adopt a different

Mode

 

But either I’m not

As adept

 

Or perhaps you

Could just say

We’re different

Animals

 

& so I write

The way I

Write

 

& if I get

Repetitive so be

It

 

One rarely revisits

Something

In the same way

 

& those returns

May well

Deepen & broaden

One’s positionings

In language

 

4.

P.S. to Preamble –

 

I’ve really noticed

Over the last few

Days

End of August start

Of Spring here

 

The plumage of

The birds

The magpies &

The ducks

Look FRESH!

 

As if dressed in

New clothes

For the party

Season –

 

The black &

The white on

The magpies

DAZZLING!

 

The ducks’ intricate

Patterns STUPENDOUS!

 

Milan

Eat your

Heart out!

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2023.


 

Education, The Holy Roman Empire & Alcohol

I don’t have to write poetry

To write

I can just enjoy

The ink on the page

 

--

 

Good to be sober

After 3 month’s grief

What started legitimately

Became fear

 

Fear of what?

No longer of facing death

But of facing life.

 

--

 

I don’t owe

Anybody anything

 

Time to stop

Pleasing acquaintances

& give less

To my friends –

Both my giving

& receiving –

 

Time to get back

On track

Like those Chinese laundresses

Advised me

20 odd years ago

 

Giving without

Strategy

Is little different

To taking –

 

Can an anxiety

Sufferer

Externalize less?

Maybe not –

But who knows

What is possible?

I’ve never lived

Tomorrow before

 

--

 

I am tired

Of negative prefixes

 

How about we

Name what IS

Not what ISN’T

 

Else we reject

Existence

& reduce it

To waste matter

 

For instance

People say

“de-clutter”

Rather than

Tidy.

 

--

 

I slept poorly last

Night –

Plagued by nightmares

A doctor might

Deduce –

Coming off alcohol

 

Blah blah…

 

Anyway,

What captured

My attention

On today’s bushwalk –

Because not much did

I was ‘out of wack’

 

What held my

Attention

Was a small

Wattle sapling

Lower to the

Ground

 

It’s innocent

Blossoms ripe

& ultra fresh

 

But it didn’t

Really return

My attention

 

Mistrustful of us

People

With our acquisitive

Knowledge & pragmatic

Or just careless

Violence

 

Or similar

Maybe mistrustful

Of my

Mentally photographing

It for

My later poem

 

Or just busy

With wattle

Matters

 

Or was it me

Being mistrustful of

My self –

 

I had to leave

 

The bright

Pale fresh

Yellow wonder.

 

Alone today –

I do time

Today somewhat

 

It’s all about getting through

The day

Managing my nerves –

 

The best

I can hope

For

 

Is what

Mum said

About her last

20 years

With severe chronic

Illness

Was “slivers of

Joy” –

 

Slivers

,Nevertheless,

Beyond the

Limits of

My person –

 

It’s seeking

Of pleasure

& avoidance

Of pain –

 

The Universe

Is truly

Marvellous

 

Wild & fresh –

 

Regardless of

Human folly, frailties

& vicissitudes.

 

--

 

A bloke I

Met in the

Pub

A couple of

Days ago

 

Responded

To my Nietzschean

Interestedness

Paired with

My Buddha’s

Non attachment

By saying

If indeed

The self is

Indivisible

From the

Whole

Then both of those

Are illusions

 

--

 

Just watched a doco

About Dante’s

Divine Comedy –

 

Never got

Very far with

The Epic Poem­–

 

Not sure

What the Catholics

Did

With

“Judge not

Lest ye shall be judged”?

 

Or the parable

Of the

Good Samaritan

 

Two of my favourite songs

Of the ‘Big J’

 

Sorry Jesus,

Perhaps overly

Familiar

 

Ha Ha

 

Oh God

The Dante

Shit

Has really messed

My head up –

 

God helps us

Europe!

Fuck!

 

I’m not

Going to

Speak for

Jesus

 

I’ll just say

About all I can

Grasp

At the moment

Is Otis Redding’s

 

“Try

A little

Tenderness”

 

Please!

People

 

Love, Mal.

 

--

 

Far out

I don’t feel well

 

& that Dante doco

Was the last thing I needed

 

It reminded me

Of Honours Poetics

 

& why I

Ran screaming

“Get me the fuck

Out of here!”

 

English Literature

Departments –

 

No offence

 

Not my bag!

 

How to kill

Poetry!

 

Redeemed

In Lewisham

South East London

With the rappers on the street

 

& in my house

&

A bitta

Smoke & beers

 

&

Later with

Kev Carmody

 

Still trying

To recover

My equilibrium

 

From the 19 year

Vice grip

 

Of Formal

Education

 

I don’t know

How many years

It was

But

I still want to

Shriek & Scream

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaoaoaoaakaoaoakaoaoaoaoao!!!!!!”

 

--

 

Oh…

Orgasm

Profanities

&

Primal screams

 

&

Fuckin

Rock & Roll

Bitches!

 

--

 

Still reverberating

With horror

& shudders

 

UNCONSTRUCT MY MIND!

 

Or in the positive tense

To borrow

From Beefheart

“God, Fuck my mind

For good!”

 

Man!!!!!!...

 

Damn right

I got the blues

Buddy Guy

RL Burnside!

 

Onomatopoeia!

Scream!

Whooooooooooooooooooppp!

 

“Now fix me

A motherfuckin

Drink!”

 

Note:

I’m having water

That tastes like

Wine!

 

Poor James Joyce!

They fucked him too!

(see Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man)!

 

--

 

On the Dante thing –

 

Not a good show to watch

If you’re coming off

Alcohol

 

Why do you think

I’ve drank so much

In my life? ­–

 

To escape

For a moment

The intellectual

Violence

(see Discipline & Punish – Foucault)

Of my

Western middle-class

Mind

 

I have

No idea

How those

Wowser

Teetotalers

Can do it

 

They must

Like “slash” agree

With it

 

“slash”

Ha ha

Get fucked!

 

Help me!

 

From the Tyranny

Of

‘The Straights’ –

 

We gotta

Tolerate

The Conservatives

 

While

They demand

We bend

To their rules!

 

Fuckin

Bullies!

 

Power Mad!

Avaricious!

 

& tossers

Like Albo

 

Who has a video

Of drinking a beer

The expense account

Pays for

 

Meanwhile

 

Taxes the shit

Out

Of alcohol

 

So the average person

Can’t afford

To drink

In public

 

So one must do so

At home

 

As if in

Shame

 

Exactly the same

As the Holy Roman Empire

 

Demanding

We all feel ashamed

 

While they

Do whatever

The fuck

Takes

Their fancy.

 

--

 

Without Love

Without common decency

Civility

Sympathy

Ethics

& just behaviour:

My vision of God

More equitable distribution

Of wealth

Across the globe –

 

There is only Power!

 

--

 

So your question is:

“Did he drink?”

“Is he an alcoholic?”

 

& to similar questions –

 

None of your

Fuckin business! –

 

My body!

My mind!

My soul!

My heart!

 

& frankly,

 

It’s the fuckin

Least of

It!

 

The End.


 

Next Poem

 

On another note

But really

The same point

 

I haven’t spoken

Enough about

Divide & Conquer

& Divide & Rule

 

& how Ideology

Seeks to divide

The Polis

Into “Left” vs

“Right”

 

Like a never ending

Tennis match

 

The only sport in town

Ever

 

Forgetting that

Most people

Are really struggling financially

In this

One of the places

 

With the highest

Material standard

Of living in the world

 

Of course

None of this matters

 

Because we’re culturally

& spiritually

Poor

 

The materialism

We covert

 

Is causing

Poverty

 

In all its varieties

 

Not least of which

Is thought poverty

 

Anyway,

This is one

Angry place

 

& the cause

Seems to be

Spiritual & cultural

 

For people

Who are

99%

Identical

 

& 99%

Drowning in

Debt

 

Anyway

It strikes

Me that

My angst

Is adding

More fuel

To the fire

 

I’m bored basically

 

But I have

To find

A way to uplift

 

& cool things

Down

 

We need A PARTY!

 

I’m lonely

You’re lonely

 

We need

To go to a party

& lose ourselves

In a world

Of welcoming strangers

 

Like a world

Could be

If we

Avowed the

Human family

 

In short

If everyone

Miraculously

Simultaneously

 

Got on the One

 

But it would take

 

An organic

Shift in

Consciousness

 

Coz if it’s coerced

It is discipline & punish

 

--

 

Hard to have hope

Today

 

Just gotta keep

Plugging away

 

Like the humble do

 

Not what my mum called the (false) “’umble”

 

What I mean is

 

Without ego

 

As they say

Simply “chippin away.”

 

--

 

I really didn’t want to write anything rhetorical –

It was that fuckin

Dante video

 

That gave me

The yips.

 

Fuck anxiety.

 

That was a

Bad dream

Last night

 

& it’s

Stuck

To me

 

I’m at a loss.

 

Hopefully

Tomorrow’s

A better day

 

& I can get

Out of this

Head –

 

Isolation –

 

The story

Of the 1st

World

It wants to

Curse the

3rd World with

 

--

 

Under the guise of

‘Health & Safety’

 

When really

It’s all about Power & Money –

 

No drinking on the street

 

No nightlife on the street

 

To quote from Peter Tosh

 

“They keep

Humiliating

The Truth”

 

(Like Jesus Christ

Carrying his death tree &

Nailed to that cross)

 

Look up

Both!

 

--

 

The so called

“mentally ill”

(why the delineation from any other illness?)

 

Are trivialized

& underestimated

 

When really

It means

That their minds

Somehow

Live outside

The Systematics

Of current thought –

 

Depending on the era.

 

Judge not the person

 

Judge their ideas

 

No matter he has shoes on his feet

 

Or none

 

Clean pants

 

Or dirty

 

Short hair

 

Or long –

 

“Can’t judge a book

By looking at its cover” –

My favourite

Bo Diddley song.

 

--


 

Part 3

 

Tired of rhetoric

Longing for wonder

But these mundane days

Set a course in motion

 

To whimsy now

Would be disingenuous

& dishonest to this hour

 

Who knows what tomorrow

Will bring?

What’s written in the stars?

 

--

 

Each morning

Should be

The first

Morning

 

But the wheels are already set in motion

 

& some wake

In luxury

 

& some

On the street

 

Somehow we all share the same species/genesis

 

So tell me

Mr Professor

 

What is Fate?

 

Would it be better to be an idiot?

 

Isn’t that the pill you’re working on?

 

 

(The End)

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2023.

Other Poems:


 

After the Tsunami

Some of my best writing

Comes when the anxiety

Attack is over –

 

After the Tsunami

One is left to sleep

& make sacred souvenirs

Remembering another season

Of big wave surfing.

 

--

 

According to Peter Ackroyd,

Public clocks

Mandating official time

Were introduced

To British cities & towns

Around the time of the Industrial Revolution –

 

Separated from human rhythms

This synchronized mechanical time

 

Became the Ruler

Of the citizens’ days (of labour)

 

As The State –

A combination of Big Business

& Governments

 

Imprisoned its citizenry

 

& onto our current ankle bracelets

That track our every word and movement

 

Thanks to the Christmas Wish

Of our youth –

 

The smart phone.

 

“(hu)Man,” as Rousseau pointed out

“Is born free,

Yet everywhere in chains.”

 

--

 

Not only this

In a similar way

The smart phones alert us

To what Big Business

& Governments

Determine to be

The Standardised ‘News & Issues of the Day/hour/minute/second’

 

& if we address anything else

 

We walk the walk of a madman.

 

Because the World’s Minds

Are owned by The State.

  

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2023.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

In a very unorthodox way

  In a very unorthodox way # (For Max Sometimes) In a very unorthodox way, I’m an Irish Catholic. Of course, in terms of Belfast politics that MEANS something. & while that maybe true – in Australia, for different reasons, as Fr Bob Maguire put it – when Mary first saw Jesus walking out of the tomb on day 3 of his death, she exclaimed “JESUS!!!” – the first time his name was used as a swear word. In that way of an irreverent joke, REVERENTIAL & ORTHODOX are not my way to the Sacred/Love*. For me – I’m not really into Theology – as Max Sometimes quoting me, quoting my mate Richard, quoting Bob Marley, quoting Rasta elders, said today “who feels it knows it.” & I believe that if I am to write my Mass/Symphony of Hope/Love, I must include at least one blasphemous hymn, else the vision depicted be simplistic, like George Handel’s Messiah. The Hope/Love represented or perhaps alluded to (if you prefer) must include genuine despair, dejection, transgression else it be

Anagram Schizophrenia In a Numbing Society/Oppression

  Anagram Schizophrenia In a Numbing Society/Oppression   This has gotta come off this band aid’s gotta come off. I’m exhausted. After 52 years of struggle. “Bent out of shape by society’s pliers” to borrow from Dylan. Violence in the womb. Violence from birth. Violence in school. Going to live in the place with the highest murder rate in Europe. Living in a flophouse there. Putting out fires. Literally & figuratively. The literal one that saved everyone’s life in that house. 10 people's lives I saved. Being around generally. Being around. Getting to know people at the bottom. Getting to know people on the ‘wrong side’ of the law Getting to know people on the ‘right side’ Who all jammed together. Rival gang members at my house. Being given a black bandana. A 'hood pass'. Protecting a teenage boy being beaten up by his 6ft 6 Russian stepfather. You know… Friends getting beaten up Friends getting killed   Then what was d

An Australian funeral 2024

  An Australian funeral 2024 Urn scattering Irish ashes Australian Irish son Australian Jamaican chief mourner Pelicans present The visiting witnesses: Random assortment of fishermen Seagulls both native & non Boaties hosing off their hulls Nice waving guy Frenchman who told strange story Retiring to Funk & Reggae Herb white rum & okra steamed with salt Getting deep Riffing on Tripping Still despite the fact that I’m tripping you’re tripping they’re tripping Tripping Tripping You’re tripping etc Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1742) “Man is born free Yet everywhere in chains” This IS a WELL established fact Yet still the ignorant are in power & not solely Still people pull the chains to their conditionally adjusted above maximul pull I’m tripping  Chief Mourner unable to tell story Son cackling like a hyena  Angry neighbour on hands free  Chief mourner recovers his flow “I ain’t mad at you” Delivers vocal trip drop Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.