Christmas Cheer

So soon that time is here again

Of peace and goodwill to all men

The passing of another year

Church bells ring out the Christmas Cheer

Green holly hanging on the doors

The streets are filled with Santa Claus

You’ll find him there in every store

Surrounded by fine gifts galore

But this year will you spare a thought

For all the poor children with nought?

Or will you just repeat last year

And lose yourself in Christmas Cheer?

A Letter to Santa

Artwork by Caroline Quin©2011

A poem by Phil Gibson, illustrated by Caroline Quin, featured in both 'Apocalyptic Visions' and 'Apocalypse and Beyond...'.

You can find a plain text version of this poem here.

A New Catastrophism for a New Era

During the 1930s a small group of Polish poets, associated with Czeslaw Milosz, became known as the Catastrophist school of poets. Aleksander Fiut explained in World Literature Today –

"the inevitable annihilation of the highest values, especially the values essential to a given cultural system. . . . But it proclaims . . . only the annihilation of certain values, not values in general, and the destruction of a certain historical formation, but not of all mankind,"

Terrence Des Pres, writing in the Nation, states –

"political catastrophe has defined the nature of our . . . [age], and the result—the collision of personal and public realms—has produced a new kind of writer. Czeslaw Milosz is the perfect example. In exile from a world which no longer exists,... , Milosz deals in his poetry with the central issues of our time: the impact of history upon moral being, the search for ways to survive spiritual ruin in a ruined world."

The "central issues" of the time of the Catastrophist poets were the political and philosophical upheavals leading up to the outbreak of the Second World War and the writings of this group of poets ominously foreshadowed the horrors of that conflict. The world was dealing with the repercussions of the Great Depression - mass unemployment and social deprivation, the rise of extreme national political movements and authoritarian governments. The Catastrophist school of poetry was a reaction to a growing sense of global anxiety and fear for the future.

The central issues of our age are many and varied. We seem to be living in an age of crises - economic meldtdown, over population, climate change, water shortages, food shortages, peak oil and peak everything else, species extinction - the list just seems to keep growing...

During the Cold War we all lived with the constant threat of nuclear annihilation. The likelihood of the Mutually Assured Destruction of an all-out thermonuclear exchange may have subsided but many other potential catastrophes are waiting in the wings. A new antibiotic resistant superbug released by accident or by design could unleash a catastrophic pandemic to ravage the world population. Recent erratic oscillations of the global climate system could precipitate an abrupt climatic shift into a new northern hemisphere ice age or runaway global warming. UG99 black stem rust striking major wheat producing regions, extinction of the honey bee through Colony Collapse Disorder or the general increase in extreme weather events could cause a dramatic drop-off in global food production leading to mass starvation, famine and general chaos and anarchy. The current plateau of oil production could at any time begin the inexorable slide down the back slope of Hubbert’s Peak leading to an ever increasing shortfall between supply and demand in turn leading to global recession and poverty, falling food production and famine and increasing political unrest and resource wars. Then of course there are Nature’s wild cards - Mt Everest sized asteroids like the one that caused the extinction of the dinosaurs, super volcanoes like Mt Toba which took out 90% of the human population 70,000 years ago, Coronal Mass Ejections from our sun like the 1859 event which scientists believe was powerful enough to wipe out our satellite network and fry the global electricity grid plunging the world into a darkness from which we may never recover.

We are in a new era of Catastrophism.

‘The End of the World As We Know It’ does not have to mean the end of us as a species. We are living in a house of cards. If you take out a card, whether that be the oil card, the food card, the electricity card or the economy card, the result is likely to be the same. The whole precarious construct will come crashing down around us and the survivors will wake to a very different world.

The planet does NOT need saving, it has taken care of itself for billions of years and will continue to long after we fade into history.

What we need to save is us... from ourselves.

The only question is; do we deserve it...?

Thank you for your support

I would just like to say a big thank you to every-one who supported my FreeBook Promotion over the weekend to celebrate the release of my new book, 'Apocalypse and Beyond...' in paperback edition from Lulu.com. Considering it was kind of on the spur of the moment I think it all went quite well, although I think I learned a few valuable lessons for when I repeat it in the New Year.

A special mention needs to be made for my twitter followers who added their support, in particular those who spread the word by retweeting or otherwise bringing the event to the attention of their followers;

@LisaCorelli                                           @DelDeviant 

@JackPlues                                            @Rh_onda   

@Dezignlicious                                     @TracyRiva

 Any-one who missed the promotion will have a second chance at a free copy of the book in the New Year when I intend to run another similar event. In the meantime my books are still available in Kindle format from Amazon and as paperbacks from Lulu. Also, 'Apocalypse and Beyond...' is enrolled in the Kindle Owners Lending Library which means Amazon Prime Members can download a copy for FREE for upto a month at any time.

Waiting

I’m just killing time

While time is killing me

Remembering a time

That is yet to be

I’m just standing still

Going no-where fast

Waiting for a moment

Coming out of my past

I’m strolling on the brink

Of my sanity

Carrying the burden

Of humanity

I’m watching life bloom

Then wither away

Moments glitter briefly

But they never stay

I’m counting each grain

Of sand that is falling

Hearing all the ghosts

Of past lives calling

I’m feeling each grain

Bring me nearer the door

Waiting for the time

To shed this skin once more

Special promotion weekend

Available on Amazon

FREE BOOK OFFER

To celebrate the release of my new paperback, 'Apocalypse and Beyond...' I have arranged a special promotion for the Amazon Kindle Edition.

You will be able to download a copy of  'Apocalypse and Beyond...' for Kindle for free over this weekend only. The promotion will run from 12.00 AM Pacific Standard Time on Saturday December 8th 2012 until 11.59 PM Pacific Standard Time on Sunday December 9th 2012.

Also available from Amazon UK

20% Paperback Discount

If you prefer your books on paper then you can pick up a copy of 'Apocalypse and Beyond...' in paperback from Lulu.com at an introductory discount of 20% for a limited time only.

God Save the Children

God save the children

From the troubles of this life

Shield them and protect them

From the heartache and the strife

God save the children

Dry their tears when they cry

When the world mistreats them

Do not turn a blinded eye

God save the children

Cold and lonely in life’s rain

Shelter them and feed them

They just don’t deserve the pain

God save the children

Do not listen to the lie

Of those who’d exploit them

Do not let the children die

God save the children

All our hopes they will fulfil

Some-one has to save them

As no-body down here will...

Mice or Men?

You may call this life a rat race

But to me the only rats

Are the ones in spangled uniforms

Or suits and bowler hats

The rest of us are only mice

All chained to life’s tread-mill

While the rats ride on the gravy train

And eat and drink their fill

They are living in the manner

They have grown accustomed to

While the masses pay in blood and sweat

For the lifestyle of the few

They enjoy all of life’s comforts

Never wanting for their needs

While the masses live in penury

Victims of their leader’s greed

To them our fate is just a game

As they play dice with our souls

The masses are expendable

To their power crazy goals

And when the final war arrives

They will be the first to hide

In concrete bunkers down below

While the masses burn outside

Don’t you think it’s time to show them

Whether we are mice or men?

We should put the rats back in their cage

And then try to start again

A Painful Video...

 My first attempt at a video poem.

A Painful Truth (from Apocalyptic Visions)   >>>>> WARNING <<<<< 
Content Advisory

Contains some disturbing imagery so do not watch if you are

 of  a nervous disposition or easily upset by images of death

>>>>> +++++++ <<<<<

Pulvis et Umbra Sumus

A numbness fills this earthly shell

As darkness fills my mind

My eyes are open wide and yet

These mortal orbs are blind

A distant rhythm, soft and slow

Its echoes gliding past

The future slowly fades into

Old memories that don’t last

The fading but persistent beat

Not easily ignored

Attempts to bind pure thought inside

This shell that never soared

The echoes slowly fade away

Forgotten for a time

The silence settles like a shroud

As chains of thought unwind

A key turns in a hidden lock

A darkness shrouded door

Now opens bleeding golden light

The shadow starts to soar

Then suddenly that distant beat

The pile of dust it calls

A shadow beckoned back to pain

And walking dusty halls

(Pulvis et umbra sumus - We are but dust and a shadow)

Savage in a Suit...? (More like Savage in a Hoodie!)

Here is a poem I wrote many years ago in the early 90's exploring how easy it is for so-called 'civilised' society to slip into savagery. After watching the news all evening and following #londonriots on Twitter I think I should rename this piece 'Savage in a Hoodie' instead, although these mongrels are not fighting for survival, they are 'fighting' for Nikes and plasma tv's!

Some people consider my poems to be too dark, morbid even. Maybe they are but I only tell it as I see it. I see nothing to be gained by sugar coating the truth, even when it is a painful truth. When you add it all up; the financial crisis, the food crisis, the climate crisis, the water crisis, the energy crisis, the resource crisis, the population crisis - is the world not a dark and morbid place? Still, no need to get depressed about it. I'm still an optimist, even though I know awful things are going to happen...

Some-times it really sucks to be right...

Savage in a Suit

You think you are so civilised

But it is time you realised

How easily cracks can appear

In your so finely groomed veneer

We’re just a couple of meals away

From anarchy, so experts say

I’m sure you doubt this can be true

So I’ll try to enlighten you

The basic instinct in us all

Before which all the others fall

Is that to keep yourself alive

At all costs you have to survive

Imagine now some future date

When all the world’s long pent-up hate

Erupts into the final war

The Establishment exists no more

The things you take for granted now

They are no longer there somehow

No petrol for your fancy car

Well, am I getting through so far?

No food will reach your local store

Your power and water flow no more

Gangs and looters roam the night

Now there is no electric light

But things will go from bad to worse

With worthless money in your purse

No matter, there’s no food to buy

And anyway, the end is nigh

Soon shortages will start to bite

Out on the streets the people fight

For any food that does arrive

Remember, they have to survive

At first the law enforcers try

But soon they start to wonder why

They bother with a fruitless quest

They’re in the same boat as the rest

And that is when the end will start

When our society falls apart

No-one to keep the mob in check

The rats have left the sinking wreck

They talk of concrete jungles now

But they just don’t compare somehow

To millions of our charming race

Competing in a real rat race

Countless starving millions dying

On the streets the corpses lying

And those unlucky ones alive

With only one thought, to survive

Could you survive this brave new world

Buy Ebook here

When anarchy's flag is unfurled?

Or would you just curl up and die

Cowering as your children cry?

Two Eyes

Two eyes are still closed tightly

To the beauty of this earth

A face still glistens brightly

From the miracle of birth

Two eyes, a flickered movement

As a new life is unfurled

But the wonder of this moment

Is just wasted on this world

Two eyes begin to open

And in wonder gaze around

Youth's bud begins to ripen

As those eyes grow big and round

Two eyes born out of innocence

See the world with rosey hue

Still blind to all the violence

And the evil that men do

Two eyes are filled with anger

As they open to the truth

The mirror holds a stranger

Something missing from their youth

Two eyes now disillusioned

And ashamed of their own kind

In a torment of confusion

Now they wish they were still blind

Two eyes have now grown cynical

Against this world of pain

They've reached and passed life's pinnacle

And soon will close again

Two eyes are quickly dimming

And their light is fading fast

The world about is swimming

As they look into the past

Buy Ebook here

Two eyes now close forever

At their owner's final breath

In that face like wrinkled leather

Lying peacefully in death

Paperbacks now available

Paperbacks now available


My anthologies of Dark Poetry are now available as paperbacks from Lulu.com aswell as being available as mulit-format ebooks from Smashwords.com. Previews are also available from both sources along with the free sample ebooks on Smashwords.com.




Apocalyptic Visions                              Beyond the Mask

Waking Nightmare

I feel my mind is slowly lifting

Through hidden doors dark shades are drifting

Last ghosts of quickly fading dreams

Retreating forms of silent screams

In momentary silence lying

With unseen nightmare spectres dying

My drowsy sleep-thick mind is idling

Why is the air so warm and stifling?

I open up my eyes to see

But all is black, how can this be?

How can there be no shred of light?

My god, could I have lost my sight?

Why do I feel so stiff and sore?

Why am I lying on the floor?

So hard to move my arms from rest

Why are they folded on my chest?

I raise my hand to test eyes flawed

My knuckles graze against rough board

My elbows knock restricting sides

With horror then I realise

Like half-remembered memories

Nghtmarish echoes surge with ease

From dark recesses of my brain

Where they were locked to save me pain

I hear the grieving mourners moaning

The distant solemn voice is droning

Of how life can be so unjust

Ash to ash and dust to dust

But these spectres are from no dream

No-one can hear but still I scream

My heart is filled with icy dread

They’ve buried me, BUT I`M NOT DEAD!

Runaway Train

Happy haddock, willow tree

Humpty dumpty, silver sea

Ping pong, bunny, apple pie

Singing haystack, purple sky

Little teapot, grinning cat

Talking horses, silly hat

Parcels, ribbons,tiny tots

Sky blue pink with polka dots

Roasted peanuts, candyfloss

Silver moonlight, springy moss

Rainy mondays, growing grass

Snakes in apples made of glass

Rocket, lolly, unicorn

Bugle, trumpet, rhino horn

Mary poppins, poppy seed

Bill and Ben and little weed

Wibble, wibble, blibble blime

Honey suckle, twist of lime

Silly sausage, carrot top

Pc Plod and Mrs Mop

Ivor engine, rousing song

Hanging baskets, Babylon

Wizard, fairy, crimson grape

Icy snowflake, sticky tape

Milky, milky, gooey cake

Yellow roses, frying stake

Choking laughter, falling star

Deafened by a bridge too far

Floating sofa, fishing gnome

Smokey bacon running home

Howdy doody Mr Spoon

Comfy ceiling, tiny room

Birdies tweeting, bouncing ball

River deep and building tall

Spotty toadstools, angel sings

Brainy badger, ravens wings

Giant beanstalk, puss-in-boots

Mother Goose in big black boots

Scented candles, ticking clock

Climb the ladder, on the block

Round in circles, chase your tail

Falling ashtray, sirens wail

Cabbage corner, smoking joint

Woven basket, needle point

Wedding bells for dusty bin

Bright confetti, creeping sin

Dancing oysters, pea green boat

Bright balloons, they bounce and float

Snowball fights in sylvan woods

Burning crosses, pointy hoods

Teeter-totter, swinging tyre

Metal monsters, spitting fire

Gaudy pennants, coloured plumes

Silent children, cloying fumes

Jingle, jingle, sleigh bell rings

Rising waters, acid stings

Test-tube babies, empty beds

Missing limbs and extra heads

Smiling faces, staring eyes

Crawling beetles, buzzing flies

Buy Ebook here

Mellow music, padded white

Baggy trousers, jacket tight

Platitudes, a bright new pin

Oblivion is closing in...