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Paranormal poesi – Nick Herbert

mai 30, 2013

Nick HerbertNick Herbert er utvilsomt en av mine favorittpoeter. Herbert representerer en type poesi som vanskelig lar seg kategorisere. Diktene er preget av tanken om en kvantefysisk tantrisk fordypning i livets grunnleggende spørsmål – fremført i en praktfull engelsk språkdrakt.

Gentlemen, let’s broaden our minds.

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VIRTUAL REALITY
by Nick Herbert

Let’s pretend to be perfect
Let’s pretend to be bad
Let’s pretend to be low life
Let’s pretend to be mad

Let’s rip off our clothing
And pretend to be holy
Let’s dress up like cops
And go out patrolling

Let’s pretend to be starving
Let’s pretend we are fed
Let’s pretend to be single
Let’s pretend we are wed

Let’s pretend to be prostitutes, porn stars
Medieval Russian saints
Let’s pretend to be scientists, housewives
People with horrible complaints

Let’s pretend we’re telepathic
And read each other’s minds
Let’s pretend we’re individuals
And live like porcupines

Let’s pretend we are artists:
Ann Rice or Jimmy Joyce
Let’s pretend to be what you want
Live in the daydream of your choice

Pretend you’re someone special
And I am special too
Prima donnas in a drama
Or fairy tale for two

With supporting cast of thousands
Playing enemies and friends
Who pretend to love and hate us
In ways we don’t intend

Let’s pretend we’re evil devils
With stinky old cracks
Let’s pretend we’re good angels
With wings on our backs

Let’s pretend we are gods
That run this whole show
And whatever we please
Is the way it will go

Let’s play we are separate
Let’s play we are One
Let’s play we are dying
Pretending is fun

Let’s pretend we are suffering
From a wound that won’t heal
Let’s forget we’re pretending
Let’s pretend it’s all real.


WHAT DO MEN WANT?

DOES SHE DO VULCAN MIND MELD ON THE FIRST DATE?
by Nick Herbert

I want your bra size, baby
Fax number, E-mail address,
Modem com code, ID,
Phone machine access.

Give me your thumb print, password,
Blood type and credit check;
Give me your antibody spectrum;
Give me your human genome specs.

Wanna tweak your web site, blog and Twitter,
Poke your Facebook’s Google maps;
Sniff your panties while I’m running
Telepathic Apple iPhone apps.

Let’s break bread together, baby,
Exchanging cryptographic primes;
Let’s connect our pores and USB ports
Let’s do high-speed, broad-band, real-time.

Velcro’d at the chakras
Let’s circulate our chi;
Let’s indulge in covalent bondage;
Let’s communicate in C.

I wanna swim in your gene pool, mama;
Snort up your pheromones close range;
Tune into your neurotransmitters;
Introduce you to Doctor Strange.

I wanna surf your quantum potentia;
Mess with your thermostat;
Wanna tour your molecular orbitals;
Wanna feed your Schrödinger cat.

Let’s surgically merge our organs:
Our kidneys, our lungs, and our hearts;
Let’s read physics journals together
And laugh at the dirty parts.

Let’s Bell-connect our bellies
With some quantum-adhesive glue;
Let’s do new stuff to each other
That Newton never knew.

Wanna feel your viscosity, honey
Dissolve my categorical mind;
Let your female force field vectors
Deform my male spacetime.

Let’s dance at warp speed, dearie
Go back before B. C.
We’ll dress in period costumes
And make love to our family trees.

ufo_2387810b
THE DAY THE SAUCERS CAME

by Nick Herbert

That day, the saucers landed.
Hundreds of them, golden,
Silent, coming down from the sky
like great snowflakes,
And the people of Earth stood and stared
as they descended,
Waiting, dry-mouthed to find
what waited inside for us
And none of us knowing
if we would be here tomorrow
But you didn’t notice it because

That day, the day the saucers came,
by some coincidence,
Was the day that the graves gave up their dead
And the zombies pushed up through soft earth
or erupted, shambling and dull-eyed, unstoppable,
Came towards us, the living,
and we screamed and ran,
But you did not notice this because

On the saucer day,
which was the zombie day, it was
Ragnarok also, and the television screens showed us
A ship built of dead-man’s nails, a serpent, a wolf,
All bigger than the mind could hold,
and the cameraman could
Not get far enough away,
and then the Gods came out
But you did not see them coming because

On the saucer-zombie-battling gods day
the floodgates broke
And each of us was engulfed by genies and sprites
Offering us wishes and wonders and eternities
And charm and cleverness and true brave hearts
and pots of gold
While giants feefofummed across the land,
and killer bees,
But you had no idea of any of this because

That day, the saucer day the zombie day
The Ragnarok and fairies day,
the day the great winds came
And snows, and the cities turned to crystal, the day
All plants died, plastics dissolved, the day
the Computers turned,
the screens telling us we would obey, the day
Angels, drunk and muddled, stumbled from the bars,
And all the bells of London were sounded, the day
Animals spoke to us in Assyrian, the Yeti day,
The fluttering capes
and arrival of the Time Machine day,
You didn’t notice any of this because
you were sitting in your room, not doing anything
not even reading, not really, just
looking at your telephone,
wondering if I was going to call.

From → Kunst

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