Friday, 11 February 2011

The big advantage

The big advantage
that being alive has
over being dead
is that you can Do Things.

Dead people cannot speak for themselves,
and because the present moment (now)
[I mean this present moment (now)
not that present moment (now) i.e. then]
is in many ways unpredictable,
it is a real benefit to be able to act in this present moment (now)
rather than having to anticipate all future present moments (thence)
(when I will be dead)
and take action now
with respect to them.

For example this poem
may very well no longer be
something I would wish to have my name associated with
by the time You get around to reading it.

But despite this
I confidently predict:
readers will still be saying,
"ah, yes! Bonkers Bindon."

Sunday, 6 February 2011

About a bird (or two)

[A fourty-four year-old body skips up Mellstock Avenue
just like it skipped down Mellstock Avenue
holding it’s mother’s hand
when it was a four year-old body.]

[I say "just like" ...
I mean, obviously the body is bigger and bulkier
but it is the same choreography
the same dance step;
the spring in each is the same joy;
a memory of how to make joyousness
imprinted onto it's flesh.]

For a moment I am insanely happy for no reason;
I try to think of a reason:
certainly I have every reason for being happy
(the boiler man only charged me twenty-five quid for a call-out)
but also every reason for being sad
(I just split up with my Very Attractive Girl-friend – quite possibly the prettiest girl I ever dated)

Somehow none of the reasons it can think of provide
sufficient explanation for my mood;

Glancing upwards at the dull grey 4 oclock clouds
plausibly seeking an answer from somewhere
outside itself
I gasp:

a huge multi-faceted flock of some bird
suddenly filling the February sky
as far as the next street on each side
coming together
breaking apart
composed of vast sub-flocks
a myriad of flapping nodes refract in all directions
while becoming the same direction
waves on a choppy sea
perhaps orchestrated by a professor of mathematics
they deliberately attempt to explicate
the principles of complexity theory

[It skips a little faster and little higher]
then I notice the adolescent girl
coming down the street towards me
and remembering fourty-four
[it slows into a brisk walk].

Probably
like your drunk uncle at a wedding
(drunk on being)
[in his mind he is dancing majestically
but he looks ridiculous
to everyone
else].

Tuesday, 1 February 2011

Open letter to God

Lord, I pray,
please don't make me have to make
too many moral choices.

Don't make me have to choose
between the life of the mother and the unborn

Don't make me have to choose
between love and duty
or love and pleasure
or different kinds of love

Don't make me have to choose
between my son and my daughter

Don't make me have to choose
between courage and integrity

Lord, I pray,
I know it makes good television,
but couldn't you just spare me
some of the moral choices?

With love,
from your disobedient servant.
xxx