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What happens when you mix what is - arguably - the world's most interesting record company, with an anarchist manic-depressive rock music historian polymath, and a method of dissemination which means that a daily rock-music magazine can be almost instantaneous?

Most of this blog is related in some way to the music, books and films produced by Gonzo Multimedia, but the editor has a grasshopper mind and so also writes about all sorts of cultural issues which interest him, and which he hopes will interest you as well.

Sunday, 24 February 2019

THOM THE WORLD POET: The Daily Poem

Rob Ayling, yer Gonzo Grande Fromage, writes:

"Thom the World poet is an old mate of mine from way back in my history. Even pre-dating Voiceprint, when I was running "Otter Songs" and Thom's poetry tapes and guest appearances with Daevid Allen, Gilli Smyth and Mother Gong are well known and highly regarded. It just felt right to include a daily poem from Thom on our Gonzo blog and when I approached him to do so, he replied within seconds!!! Thom is a great talent and just wants to spread poetry, light and positive energy across the globe. If we at Gonzo can help him do that - why not?


RESPONDING TO "SEEING THINGS"
DREAMS PART/OPENING ARTS
Scrying.Intuiting.Wounding.Opening
to ghosts who claim validity and presence.
Whether the shocked eye of the car struck deer
or a more pedestrian bicycling victim/pain is universal..
Bearable in the sharing.Worse if confined.Worst if unspeakable.
Perhaps bird and silence and house conspire/a secret shared
is a dream denied.Through ant eyes/all is huge(but bearable..
The company of ants as armies.Shared purpose.Uniforms.Duty.
Listening to what is behind words allows Silence purpose.
We are more than consumption.Old eat less.Stick figures crack.
Babies devour milk breasts.We starve between harvests.Recollecting plenitude.
The Book of Dust has Storms Between Us.Ruffled fur and feathers.Sleep
Deprivation the New Industry.Machines.Oxygen.Dependence.
Whether we CAN slip between atoms of memory/dementia Premature
Medication or Meditation?Whether we Age One Thousand Years -
or slip between these silences like a song/Dislocation becomes Re-location..
Numbers imply both sequence and certainty.Both False.You see,if we
gave credence to Bullets and Bombs,there would be no civilians left to sing to/with
So we Appeal to Generics-the Sea,Dreams,Others..Specifics get lost
and a furry wonder suffuses perfumed censers.Light diminishes with observation.
Quests call,but only for one .Lonely.No one else can hear these alarms.
I will Release these Imposters.Seek Real Remedies.Pills,Potions,Poisons fail.

When i wake up-will i be WOKE again-or in jail?

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