Chaos

A butterfly can beat its wings
for chaos to begin.
A flutter in the Amazon,
a cyclone in Benin.

The fractals fractured beauty,
so mesmeric in its form,
will reinvent in fractions
as it echoes through the storm.

While there’s order in disorder,
our dimensions will reorder
with a symmetry much broader
than all that has been shown.

The consistent inconsistencies,
belying false expectancies,
will burn efficient fallacies
that everything is known.

As the finite tends to infinite
(the definite indefinite)
attractors trace design
from a point on to a line,
to a plane and then a sphere,
and beyond to who knows where.
When dimensions so diverge
strange attractors will emerge
to scribe in forms exotic
the behaviour called chaotic.

Such dramatics in climatics,
from those gently beating wings,
appear to be erratic
where reality is king.

And it’s tempting to believe
that it’s man who has conceived
the complexities perceived
in the universal weave.    
But in truth it all began
in that primal cosmic bang.

August: 2007

The Veteran

I met him on a Tuesday in a bare unpainted room
With weak and filtered morning light that barely touched the gloom
The fog of smoke and whiskey fumes hung heavy in the air
A wheezing, wizened figure slouched down in a mobile chair

He surely knew just why I'd come, 'twas him who called the priest
To give him absolution now before his essence ceased
We'll tell you that confession is essential for the soul
To mend a fractured spirit and to make the parts a whole

But maybe there's some stories that are better left unsaid
For they will haunt our dreams and fill our waking hours with dread
In ignorance there's blissful peace beyond imagining
Though I would hear his story and the horror it must bring

"Forgive me father it's been years since when I last confessed"
"Fear not my son, I'll hear your sins in Jesus you are blessed
Now tell me what is troubling you, be frank before the lord"
He paused and so I waited ‘til he reached his own accord

His breathing had the timbre of a rough and blunted saw
An awful cadent augur of the sickness that he bore
'Twas clear that he would fade away before the suns last rays
He roused himself to meet my stare a challenge in his gaze

Tis nigh on forty years since I was sent to Vietnam
That stupefying conflict of the ignorant and damned
But promise of excitement and adventure on demand
Saw willing simple conscripts sent off to that wretched land

It started with monotony and days of routine chores
The metronomic order that the army so adores
And all the time the sun and rain through suffocating heat
Would keep the constant rhythm of their own oppressive beat

At night we were distracted drinking liquor, smoking dope
They soon became the basic means by which we used to cope
With brains so fried by heat and drugs and what we used to drink
'Twas well in all that boredom we were not supposed to think

But then we got the order we'd be moving to the front
To start a new offensive push that meant we'd get to hunt
The shadowy adversary we'd heard so much about
None doubted all too easily we'd sort the buggers out

But hunting in the jungle is a terrifying game
Where shadows jump and rifles crack, survival is the aim
Our nerves were set on constant edge when we were on patrol
A sniper could be anywhere; such tension took its toll

Near camp a local family seemed friendly to our cause
The kids would come to sell us things and sometimes help with chores
They seemed a good distraction and so innocent of sin
We never thought that they would prove the enemy within   

There was a day in August when the kids did not come by
And while it seemed remarkable we didn't question why
But there was a significance to which we all were blind
For we misjudged the Vietcong and what they had in mind

Attacking in the evening time they caught us at our low
They seemed to sense our weakest points, though how we didn't know
And striking us full fury, that demonic tide of hate
Would surge with such a bitterness that only blood can sate

With fighting that was desperate and vicious all the way
The twilight framed its images more sinister than day
Though barely lasting half an hour fatalities were high
We drove them off though not sure when they'd have another try

But we were left in peace that night to eulogise our dead
Where empathy had once held sway resentment burned instead
For so we knew just how it was that we had been betrayed
The children had been used to spy for those who'd planned the raid

And late that night while fuelled with drink we slowly built our gall
Until the rage burned hard and bright and we were in its thrall
Deciding that a core of us would head off down the track
To daunt the local family, revenging this attack

They must have heard us coming, for they huddled in their hut
With barricades against the doors and all the windows shut
But this just seemed to goad us on to anger without bound
We blocked the doors with all inside and burned it to the ground

The flames flared bright that hellish night though not for very long
A bamboo hut burns fast and fierce when it is helped along
The acrid smell of burning flesh and wood smoke filled the air
And we made sure that none survived, no guilt they could declare

They say that time can heal all wounds and salve the rawest nerve
But maybe in reality we keep what we deserve 
For I still smell that bitter smell and I still hear the loss
Of children being crucified on paranoia's cross

Of course they held inquiries; there were three I think in all
But those of us who knew the score all had the same recall
"I don't know much, I was asleep, I really can't say more"
So it was ruled an accident and we went back to war

The veteran gave a shudder as his tale came to its end 
Dark shadows beating round his form seemed eager to descend
To claim their mortal prize and bear his wretched shade away 
But one more act was needed done before they had their way

And as I looked into the soul behind those rheumy eyes
I prayed for such compassion of the holy and the wise
This man had slaughtered innocents disguising what was true
But then believed that in his time salvation was his due

His breath was coming quickly now, his life an ebbing flow
"Get on with it," he whispered, "our God waits for me you know"
'Twas then I knew I could not give the succour he desired
Though such an act would contravene my duties as required

So I removed my collar which I placed upon his chair
And told him to absolve himself before God if he dare
His eyes grew wide in horror at the import of my voice
He never thought a priest would ever exercise such choice 

And as the door swung closed upon that bare unpainted room
I heard the fated rattle as a man embraced his doom
A justice waiting forty years to settle its demand 
Had wreaked an awful vengeance on the living and the damned

September: 2007

Battle of the Arbour

They say a garden arbour
In Spring should be a harbour
For flowers, birds and insects big and small
But other souls are dwelling
Beneath those boughs a'swelling
Unknown to any human folk at all

Of goblins there are many
And pixies hardly any
While elves and fairies also do abound
Though all was not in order
One day within their border
A story that I'm sure will quite astound

The issue that was brewing
Though really no one's doing
Most certainly got up the goblin nose
Their king had lost his sceptre
'Twas this that cast the spectre
No doubting it was stolen they suppose

Then goblins started blaming
The other folks and naming
The fairies chiefest suspect at the time
The fairies scorned with laughter
"It's elven types you're after"
The elves then blamed the pixies for the crime

And so they set to squabblin'
With fairy against goblin
The elves and pixies sniping on the side
Then 'fore long they were fighting
With scratching, kicking, biting
Quite soon there was not any place to hide

The pixies were assaulting
The elves who were revolting
While goblins then attacked the fairy's flanks
The fairies all retreated
But soon returned and meted
Some punishment upon the goblin ranks

The fight went on for hours
Through bushes, trees and flowers
Though none of them could get the upper hand
But still they kept on going
Till blood was freely flowing
And barely one on any side could stand

Then just as things had gotten
So seriously rotten
The sceptre rolled from underneath a chair
'Twas kicked there unexpected
To lay there undetected
Now everyone could only stop and stare

With that they all were ruing
That day they started bluing
And wondering what they were fighting for
Apologies were proffered
Then reparations offered
A treaty of the peace was put in law

So now while fairies chatter
And old elves sit and natter
Complaining of the weather and the cold
There tells the wee folk's barber
The battle of the arbour
He even re-enacts it so I'm told

April: 2007