Poemathon

Poetry for Peace

The first fifty poems of this poemathon (Days 1-51) are now published in the book, "A Hymn to Flux" which is available in ebook or paperback from Amazon. Go here now for more details

The second fifty poems (days 51-100) are now published in the book, "The Machine's in Overdrive". Go here now for more info.

Poems 101 to 207 are hosted on the DoubleDareArt website here

And here are poems 208 to the present


Day 243 Saturday 15th December 2018

Whence Comes Rescue?

© 2018 Steve Cook

Whence comes rescue

Unless we rescue one another?

What brings peace

If not the affinity twixt brothers?

Whence doth greatness spring

Except what each in each discovers?

And where doth freedom start except

"We are all in this together"?


Day 242 Friday 14th December 2018

Some Time Ago

© 2018 Steve Cook

Some time ago, the Devil discovered

The way to bring down gods

Is to get them fighting each other.

For who can conquer gods

If not one another?

And here we are.


Day 241 Thursday 13th December 2018

© 2018 Steve Cook

The future can be annoying

When it turns up early

And catches you unprepared


Day 240 Wednesday 12th December 2018

Have you Ever . . .

© 2018 Steve Cook

Have you ever walked into a room

And then couldn't remember

Why you went there?

The universe is a bit like that.


Day 239. Tuesday 11th December 2018

Craving Approval

© 2018 Steve Cook

I realised this morning

That I have been committing

The ultimate cardinal sin

Of craving approval.

Seems to me now that folly

Should be binned,

Deleted and cancelled.

It sure as hell is

From now on.

One should be

The one who gives

Or withholds approval

Not the one who needs it.

Or simply doesn't bother

And skips the whole sorry thing,

Cultivating an attitude

Of, "It is what it is".

After all, it's tantamount to asking

For permission to exist

And craving approval

From something or someone

Is what gets us into trouble.


Day 238. Monday 10th December 2018

Fake Stories

© 2018 Steve Cook

Do you ever feel

That the story of our species

Isn't really real,

A specious fabrication

Handed down through generations,

'Til the inmates of our prison

All gave up on freedom

Because they've totally forgotten

How the hell they got there

Or who they really were.

After all, consider:

How do you enslave a race

And warp it to your bidding

If not by teaching

Elaborate fabrications

And plausible fake histories

That alter its reality

And render it imprisoned

By broad belieavabilities

Within a single generation?



Day 237. Sunday 9th December 2018

Brothers and Sisters

© 2018 Steve Cook

You do realise, don't you,

That you have seven billion

Brothers and sisters?

And the reason you're lonely

Is you don't listen

Or they can't hear you.


Day 236. Saturday 8th December 2018

Failed Artist

© 2018 Steve Cook

Not making pots of money

Does not make you a failed artist.

The only way to be

A failed artist

Is not to do art

Or not make an art

Of what you do.


Day 235. Friday 7th December 2018

Haiku

© 2018 Steve Cook

The age-old question:

'Is there anybody there?'

Confirmed by echoes


Day 234. Thursday 6th December 2018

The Solitary Echo

© 2018 Steve Cook

The poetry nobody reads,

The symphony nobody hears

The picture no-one sees,

A universe no-one shares

And loneliness like prison bars

Too hard to bear.

Reaching for connection in the void,

The hand by no hand enjoined,

Grasping one's own shadow

And answered by the solitary echo.


Day 233. Wednesday 5th December 2018

The Trip

© 2018 Steve Cook


looking for truth,

afraid of what I might see

i tripped on my own fear

and slipped off the edge

of reality

into the mainstream

and was carried

by a river of lies

into a sea of fake news



Day 232. Tuesday 4th December 2018

A Lot to be Said

© 2018 Steve Cook


There is a lot to be said

For getting out of bed

At the very crack of dawn,

For when I went out for a cigarette,

There were Venus bright as a lantern

And a thin sliver of crescent Moon

Hanging together in a clear heaven

Like re-united sisters.

I would have missed them

Had I not gotten up

And gone outside for a smoke.

So there's a lot to be said

For being an early riser,

And a smoker too, apparently.


Day 231. Monday 3rd December 2018

Heart

© 2018 Steve Cook

She said, "Give me your hand."

And I thought,

"If you are going to give,

Be a man and

Give generously."

So I gave her my heart.

Sometimes I wonder

If I should ask for it back,

But then I think,

"Well, for a start,

It wasn't a loan but a gift

And besides,

It is happier where it is."


Day 230. Sunday 2nd December 2018

This morning I was wondering

© 2018 Steve Cook


This morning I was wondering

Whether things exist

Before someone discovers 'em


Things like subatomic particles,

A hundred bazillion galaxies

Or even alcoholism.


Maybe science could discover

The universe is magical

And built on peace and brotherhood.


If you are going to discover things,

Discover something nice

Instead of something horrible.



Day 229. Saturday 1st December 2018

For My Wife on her Birthday

© 2018 Steve Cook

Sometimes I think I probably

Took up poetry for one purpose:

So I could tell you how I feel

And make a song for every birthday

That makes my love for you true-spoken

And justly signed and sealed,

Delivered in rhyming verses

With proper rhythmic zeal.

But no words have been invented

Can make the truth of love that real.


Day 228. Friday 30th November 2018

Who Will Stand with Me?

© 2018 Steve Cook


We stood in silence for one minute

To commemorate the dead

In sorrow and regret

For the futile blood we shed

But who will stand in silence

For those unborn instead

For our future and our children

And the eons that lie ahead?

Who will stand with me for five

And proudly raise his head

That man may smile and weep no more

And the curse of war be shed

Who'll let go of yesterday

And to tomorrow pledge

This stand with me for brotherhood

That peace at last may spread.


Day 227. Thursday 29th November 2018

Did You Ever Think . . .

© 2018 Steve Cook

Did you ever think this universe

Got started as as prank

That somehow got too serious

And seriously out of hand?

Did you ever think that everyone

Somehow missed the joke

Or when God gave the Word to us

He mischievously mis-spoke?

Seems all was going swimmingly

'Til Creation threw a strop

And nature would benefit

From a bit of lightening up.

And my message to whoever

Wrote the ruddy script

Is the plot's a trifle hackneyed

And it sure goes on a bit.


Day 226. Wednesday 28th November 2018

Who?

© 2018 Steve Cook


Who will stand for peace?

I wondered,

And release us from the

Endless live-die-repeat

Insanity of war?

Who will stand for Brotherhood

And our birthright

By the sisterhood of

Mothers borne?

Who will speak for Man

Whose affinity

With Man alone

The key to joy

And life provides?

Who will lend their shoulder

To the shoulder

Of his brother,

Each to one another,

If not you and I?


Day 225. Tuesday 27th November 2018

Haiku

© 2018 Steve Cook


Looking at the stars

Across the wide universe

The infinite stare


Day 224. Monday 26th November 2018

Creating Countries

© 2018 Steve Cook

What is the point

Where a country begins to die,

If not the point

When its people

Become convinced

They can no longer create it?


Day 223. Sunday 25th November 2018


Let's

© 2018 Steve Cook


Let's reform our money

And base it on production

Not, as currently, on debt

Then gradually increase the supply of it

In smoother distribution

And pretty soon I bet we'll see

That poverty has run

Right out of excuses

And we'll all be rich.


Day 222. Saturday 24th November 2018

Funny Thing about Poverty . . .

© 2018 Steve Cook

Funny thing about poverty

Is in woebegone bygone ages

They say it couldn't be prevented.

But now in this age of miracles

And technological advances

In this world of plenty we created

Some idiots have clung

To control by scarcity

In which it has to be

Continually reinvented.


Day 221. Friday 23rd November 2018

The Rap of Liberation, Part Three

© 2018 Steve Cook

Scientists have discovered

That nobody knows what's going on.

We all assumed that somebody knew,

That clues to the universe

Existed somewhere,

That there was truth up there

Among the stars

Or the far marches of chaos

Or down here among the protons,

Electrons, neutrons, mesons,

Futons and tampons

And the swirling, whirling furnishings

Of a universe comprising

Mainly imaginary particles.


Scientists have discovered

That nobody knows what's going on.

They'd hoped for more but turns out

They were wrong.

They have been forced to conclude

And prove scientifically

That the universe is weird

Thus finally confirming

The worst of their fears.


Scientists have discovered

That nobody knows what's going on.

The microscopes and telescopes

Kaleidoscopes and isotopes

Drew a blank all along

In the search for something

More than merely magical

And factually tangible,

Or even hazily discernable

That lurked somewhere,

Comfortingly confirmable

Or vaguely irrefutable

Among the corpuscles and barnacles,

Cardigans, condiments, artesans and marzipan

And all the other

Nonsensical factors of existence

Subsisting by coincidence..

In infinite confusion

And random collision

Or even, we suspect,

Mischievous collusion.


Scientists have discovered

That nobody know what's going on.

The universe seems to be

Composed mainly of opinion

But whose opinion precisely

Is something of a mystery.

Yet the search for more continues,

For something undestandandible,

An answer to the question,

Or the question to the answer

That might advance our wisdom

Or at least our hope of finding

A useful stable datum of some description

Among the endless procession of

Hopeless hypotheses

Or refutable arguments

That all turned out to be

Ultimately disprovable.


Scientists have discovered

That nobody know what's going on.

It's a universe of maybes

And mysteries endlessly repeated

Throughout all of human history,

Of secrets, suspects, checks and balances

The complex web of

Algorithmic sequences

Buried in the fixits, exits, wingits

Fuckits, stuffits, stoppits, wotsits and brexits

Of plausible bullshit

Palmed off on the multitudes

With acceptable attitudes

And a tantalising froth

Of contemporary lather,

Bullshit and blather


Scientists have discovered

That nobody know what's going on.

And everyone agrees

That's a good place to start.


Day 220. Thursday 22nd November 2018

Haiku

© 2018 Steve Cook


Since my last haiku

Too much time has passed us by

So here is one now


Day 219. Wednesday 21st November 2018

Joy

© 2018 Steve Cook

Once I thought I'd only be happy

With some gigantic lottery win

But now I think to hell with the money

And take joy from the simplest things


Day 218. Tuesday 20th November 2018

Despite Everything

© 2018 Steve Cook

Whether you know or even believe it,

You've been around for a very long time

I am sorry to tell you I've seen it

And there's no doubt left in my mind.

Down through the unending ages

And eons in a blink of an eye

You wrote endlessly turning pages

Of life after life after life,

All the while hammered and pounded,

Wounded, disappointed, betrayed,

Bereft, bereaved and royally hounded.

From birth to the end of your days.

But what I find so astounding

That earns my boundless respect

Is in spite of it all that you're still trying

To do the right thing even yet,

Still dreaming, still hoping, still loving,

With kindness still placing your bets.

One day I know you'll remember

Or maybe just take this hint

That the truth of you is you're a giant

Held down with pieces of lint.


Day 217. Monday 19th November 2018

You Know Who you Are

© 2018 Steve Cook


Seems to me my life is blessed

To be full of beautiful women,

For which I thank God or my lucky stars.

But at this point I think it best

To mention in case you are wondering

That you girls know who you are.



Day 216. Sunday 18th November 2018

Are you Sure you're Small Enough? Part Two

© 2018 Steve Cook


Okay so we have all

Very cleverly

Made ourselves small enough

To squeeze into our bodies.

But like a shoe or a hat

If you wear it long enough

Something too small like that

No matter how smart it looks

Pretty soon is gonna start

To chafe.


Day 215. Saturday 17th November 2018

Are you Sure you're Small Enough? Part One

© 2018 Steve Cook

Once upon a time

we made ourselves small enough

to fit into the universe.


Then some time later

we made ourselves smaller

so we could fit quite comfortably

into a very tiny galaxy.


Time went by until

in some kind of panic

we made ourselves small enough

to fit into a planet.


We were on a kind of roll by then

and eventually decided

it might be kind of jolly

if we made ourselves small enough

to fit into a body.


So here for quite a while by now

we've unhappily resided

and the body thing's turned out to be

not all it was cracked up to be

by all the advertising.


In fact I think you'll all agree

being squeezed into a body

has been pretty horrible,

decidedly uncomfortable

and overall a pain

in the ruddy ass,

one of which of course

now everybody has!


And if you conclude from all of this

the trouble you are having

is due to you not being

quite small enough,

go see your psychiatrist

for he will trim you down again

with surgery or chemistry

until you fit untidily

inside your brain



Day 214 Friday 16th November 2018

On your Cide

© 2018 Steve Cook

Trust me,

The politician said,

For I am on you side.

And I said,

What side is that then?

Suicide?

Fratricide?

Matricide?

Patricide?

Or Infanticide?

There are after all

Many sides to a political promise

The flip side of which

Often coincides

With downsides

That wind up

In genocide.


Day 213 Thursday 15th November 2018

Farmyard Animals

© 2018 Steve Cook

The next time some barmy psychiatrist

Tries to tell you you are an animal

Tell him, "YOU may well be, pal,

But I sure as hell ain't."


After all,

Why let some criminal

Who knows Jack Shit

Except how to dope kids

Like farmyard animals

Tell you what to think?

Even if they do

Pretend to be doctors.


Poetry for Peace. Day 212 Wednesday 14th November 2018

Recently I found out

© 2018 Steve Cook

Recently

I found out at last

Who I really am.


It was a truth so vast

I was scared

To believe it.


Those of you

Who have

Been there already

Will know exactly

What I'm talking about.


Those who haven't yet

Are going to.


Something wonderful

Is going to happen


Day 211 Tuesday 13th November 2018

On the Brink

© 2018 Steve Cook

Out towards the galaxy's rim

By a small yellow sun

A planet orbits

On the edge of greatness.


Day 210. Monday 12th November 2018

What I Want

© 2018 Steve Cook

I stopped asking what I want from life

And ask myself what I want for life.

The answer is, I want to put a song

In the human heart

That will resonate for all time,

With credits to

"Author Anon".


Day 209. Sunday 11th November 2018

In the Silence 11/11/18

© 2018 Steve Cook

In the silence,

the guns

and lying tongues

were stilled

and we remembered

all men are brothers.

In the silence

we heard the echo

of their screams

dying over

half-remembered

battlefields

where good men

were each

by other good men killed.

In the silence,

each the nightmare

of some psychotic's dream

recalled,

the loss of sons

born without hate

to different mothers,

yet to our selfsame race

and dying with regret

for the lives laid waste

in the same mud

beneath

the selfsame sun.

In the silence

we wept, waking

from the pain

and the truth unchanged

e'en yet of our

brotherhood,

knowing we are all

in this together

and all war's wounds

are self-inflicted.

In the silence,

we seek an answer

to the riddle

of the madness,

of our periodic

internecine slaughter

and the

who-does-this-to-us

senselessness

of our suicidal,

fratricidal, patricidal

matricidal squabbles,

knowing only that we are

good, yet agonisingly

troubled.

In the silence

we reach again for an end

to the reign

of lunatics and liars,

for there's a road somewhere

out of the interminable pain,

across the corpse-strewn plains,

shell-shocked wastelands,

no-man's-lands

and trenches awash

with the tears

of bereaved mothers

whose sons are never

coming home again.

In the silence

the world's heart groaned,

weighed heavy

with regret,

heads hung for the

shame of self-hood

betrayed,

by unknown

demons cowed

we knew not how.

In the silence

I heard whispered

in the hearts of men

the one thought

that will end

at last this

travesty of war,

provided

we voice it

together,

and the thought is this:


"I-will-not-do-this-any-more".



Day 208. Saturday 10th November 2018

The Zen of Walking

© 2018 Steve Cook

Walk On!

My Zen Master used to say,

Like it was the answer to everything

Or a way of not answering

Anything.


Walk On!

I must have been convinced,

I've been walking ever since,

I've sure walked a lot

In this life and others.


Walk on!

The thing about walking,

Is it is an endlessly repeated effort

To prevent yourself

Falling on your face.


That's probably why I do it.

But at least I am walking forwards


Walking backwards is worse.


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Find poems 1-207 here