Moving On - Nick Fisk

Moving On Nick Fisk

First published approx 3 months Momento Veritas

Also by Nick Fisk: Futurist

Pure Diamonds

Rushinʻ on Diamonds

Diamonds & Dragons

Daimunz R 4E4

5x4x5x4+1

Departure Lounge 25

Departure Lounge 58

20 Futurist ii FunnyBusiness

Also: TheBlues AreBackinTown (Parthian) GospelandGossip (freeonlineat Smashwords)

For moreinformation on earlier works see:

www.purepoetry.co.uk

Also, author’s blog

https://www.fiskbook.com

With sincerest thanks to Neil MacInnes for his forgiveness, kindness, for all his support in recent months, for his genuine nature, and for singing from the same hymn sheet. Also thanks to Kavin. Thanks to AC as ever.

Moving On

I was blind until Kirsty set me free. Krusty I’d call her sometimes, But she was no clown.

Post-Uni, but pre-facebook, I’d got in touch through friends-reunited. All I got back was “we’ve all moved on, Nick”, Which from my Planet Zog base, A million light years from Earth, Daily battling Vulcans and Klingons

Was not quite the reply I’d hoped for. And then a light year or two later, She blocked me on Twitter, Forcing a Klingon-like frown.

Get A Move On

My dad would say, 11am on a Sunday morning.

“Get a shift on!”

He’d say five minutes later, “We’re going for a walk!”

So I’d have to drag myself out of bed, About aged 15, When to be honest, I had other things on my mind.

We’d go to our “spot”

In the Brecon Beacons, Sandwiches made.

We’d walk our dogs, Tibby and Penny.

Tiny Tibs would find his big stick, The show off.

It was a nice spot, Waterfalls along the way. Sometimes we’d play Hide and seek.

One time we went with Ju-ju and Karel.

Karel dived into the river, Into the pool below one of the waterfalls, Inviting others to join him.

I’d probably spend

Most of the day

Head down, Thinking about the girls I fancied; The boys who were bullying me; Homework I didn’t want to do.

One time, a little older, I didn’t go. I spent the day in the living room. Pacing about, head down, I just kept repeating

“Appy Moondays”

“Appy Moondays”

Endlessly

Alone in the house on my own.

One year, I didn’t go up With my parents

To spend Christmas at my brother’s.

This was after my dad had Moved down the Bay. Stu’s brother, Ben Lived round the corner. He lived with his girlfriend And a girl called Jane.

Christmas Day,

I went for a run around the dock, Imagining Jesus was with me, Probably not long out of hospital, Still a bit mad; Just couldn’t face another Christmas With the family being single. I must have been still a bit mad –I’d thrown a Welsh dictionary into the dock.

I knocked on Ben’s door, And like I was family, He welcomed me in, Let me have a nice Christmas dinner with them, And I had my first ever Christmas without the family.

Welcoming Committee

Welcome, welcome –

We’ve been expecting you!

Our very kind security staff will make you feel at home; Your very special golden ticket, All paid for, is of course VIP, The music shall be just as you desire, The company – splendid!

If you’d just care to step this way –Hold on – what’s that? –

I’ve just heard –

An angel has let me know –You are aware this is the reception For the liberation party, yes?

It’s just, apparently, and I’ve only just been told –Apparently you’ve been

“Dutifully wearing a face covering for the last two years”; You “Were an active participant in the assault on Jesus Christ” –

What’s that? Tell them to fuck off?

I’m so sorry but

St Peter has asked for you to fuck off...

I’m so sorry...

But your favourite band is playing?

You’ve been looking forward to this for months? Could we just make an exception in your case? –You don’t have any links with MI5 do you? –

Because you know they’re not welcome either?

And also – now you’re asking If you could also bring your wife?!

This is getting complicated. It was supposed to be so straight forward.

Life Didn’t Change for my Cat

Life didn’t change for my cat

With the coronavirus and that She got up, wanted food, Whatever her mood

No life didn’t change for my cat

For my cat life didn’t change, While humans turned slightly deranged, She sat on my knee

And went out for a pee; For my cat life didn’t change.

My cat still purred as before

When she slept, she still liked to snore; She’d still likes a stroke

From any old bloke

Who she greeted at my front door.

But people were coming round less With news of the confounded virus. If only we’d been the same, With no-one to blame

And all lived our lives like my puss.

Sensory Perception versus Indoctrination

Not one person did I meet Struggling to breathe.

Not one person did I see Cough into their sleeve.

Yet apparently things were so bad Pubs and shops had to close.

We were told to all wear masks To cover mouth and nose.

Please don’t tell me It was because the ill were all indoors.

That was just another story From the lockdown-loving bores.

If I was told that it had snowed I’d expect to see it.

When I see no evidence I struggle to believe it.

We’ve all grown up believing That politicians are all liars.

And it’s often said that Where there’s smoke there should always be fire.

So why was it only those two years Folk believed the things we heard them say?

That if we did exactly as we were told “It” would go away?

Forgive me for being cynical But I suspect ulterior motivation.

Subservience and obedience Was the government’s creation.

Exactly when it would end Was anybody’s guess.

But I always thought it had to start With people trusting less.

Use your eyes and your own senses To see what’s really going on.

You might just finally realise It was all a massive con.

Claiming back our lives is key And dismissing government lies.

Break patterns, follow instincts And you can again be free.

All Viruses Matter – An A to Z (with

one glaring omission)

This is a found poem taken from: https://viralzone.expasy.org/678

Australian bat lyssavirus

Barmah forest virus

Coxsackievirus

Duvenhage virus

Ebolavirus

GB virus C

Human immunodeficiency virus (HIV)

Influenza B virus

JC polyomavirus

Kunjin virus

Lordsdale virus

Measles virus

New York virus

Orf virus

Poliovirus

Rubella virus

Southampton virus

Tick-borne powassan virus

Uukuniemi virus

Vesicular stomatitus

Western equine encephalitis virus

Yellow fever virus

Zika virus

Unpublicised Variants

The gamma variant

The epsilon variant

The zeta variant

The eta variant

The theta variant

The iota variant

The kappa variant

The lambda variant

The mu variant

The nu ¹ variant

The xi variant

The pi ¹ variant

The rho variant

The sigma variant

The tau variant

The upsilon variant

The phi variant

The chi ¹ variant

The psi ¹ variant

The omega variant

Things You Can Do Without Needing Government Help

Decide when to get out of bed

Choose to wash or go

Maybe buy fags from the fag shop

Break any rules wanted

Master self satisfaction

Drive a little bit faster

Be the coroner of Corona

Dream some crazy dreams

Set precedents

Discover which African tribe you might belong to Be in another dimension (fuck rules on Earth)

Give people who wear masks funny looks

Self medicate; be your own doctor

Enjoy the sound of your cat eating dry food in the next room

Sing along to Queen as you fly around on your broom (if you’re a lady)

Real Talk

I asked the real JC, A Sikh lad from Leeds, Playing on a Gameboy What game he was playing.

He stopped, looked to the Heavens, Paused and said, “Oneupmanship”

Post Industrial War

Except for her kind ways of treating others In Candy’s show the socialists came together

The socialists formed a party of talkers

With kids walking freely about as tickets

Were bought and sold bringing young and old. Be bold I was told; keep the book intact. But I’d been sold the better boys

The boys who put the soul in, Took the cold out, stopped the chilly sores, The coleslaw slapped on opened doors; Whole lot, showed the lot

With no-one getting shot, At least not yet. Save that for a later time

Post the post-industrial war.

2.22 re-occurring

I’d sent a message to the parents Of my best friend, (As defined by The Velvet Underground) Who are both born again –“Looking forward to the second...Something!” I could hardly say it.

He keeps us waiting, I’d said to Neil, Still not being specific.

The day after, I met my new best friend. 12 hours on the piss With him and former boxing legend, Robbie Reagan. What were we trying to find, Going blind into the abyss?

Not long after, A baby born, Sparking potential new awakenings.

tiny.cc/dkmruz

The Prize is Correct

Post-flockdown, It seems difficult to know Exactly what the “right” price Or “correct” prize for Things should be.

Paul Heaton (Beautiful South/Housemartins) –A follower of Marx & Christ –Putting £60k behind 60 pubs To mark his sixtieth Was a nailed on top gesture, Almost like a beginning, a catalyst.

A couplet of post scamdemic Chuck D tweets

Seems like everyone went ‘Go’

At the same damn time...

Trying to make up for the last 2 years

In business AND life .

Having no work and too much work

Is like having no water

And too much water.

Better learn how to pace and swim

The When Girl in the Window

She flew from the Wenallt, Tapped on the door every day To tell me when, But I still got it wrong.

She told me the when of everything –When to eat, when to sleep, Exactly when she wanted food –But I still got it wrong.

I would place food down straight away –Broken up biscuits and bread –Or, I’d wait…but either way I still got it wrong. Because the squirrel got there first.

She picked a crumb up off the ground With her beak, and finally I learned.

“The dirty robbing cunt”

I heard her tweet to the squirrel

As I picked the stuff up off the table & sprinkled it in the grass & on the bird-table

To make it easier for her To get it than the squirrel.

Lone Peasant

For reasons that were not immediately apparent, I was specially selected As the sole peasant

To be told the truth

About the exact time and date –

9.20pm, 10 May, 2022 (during Aston Villa v Liverpool) –Of her departure.

I was invited to wave goodbye, But not being the biggest fan Of her majesty, I couldn’t bring myself to do it, Just looked up, like Treacle might, That was all I could Bring myself to do, So excited was I about The prospect of the next monarch, The lady in waiting, The Queen of the Queen Bees.

Minutes later, I stepped out and simply saw A vapour trail across the moon. In my mind at least that was confirmation.

But then again, I’m fucking nuts.

And besides, like I say, I’d actually got it wrong again –In fact everyone in the world got the same message –At exactly the same time, by the same method –Through their heads –

And no-one could admit it yet –No-one really knew how to react –Telepathy’s a funny means of communication, They don’t speak about it on TV.

But of course I’ve got that wrong too.

After They Stopped Doing Free Range Eggs

Chicken delivered again, I got to thinking:

What might the workers at the restaurant

Do at the end of their shift?

Go back home and catch up on the day’s sport?

Go back home and catch up on the news?

Go back home and catch up on their favourite soaps?

Go back home and step back into their role as millionaire in disguise?

Go back home to get some rest?

Go back home and feel depressed about the idea of going back into work the next day?

Go back to cuddles from a loving family?

Go back home to smoke crack?

Go round a mate’s to get drunk?

Go to the mosque?

Call for a takeaway?

Make food; go to the gym?

To be honest, I didn’t actually care particularly, But my curiosity had been aroused, So I invited them to send me their CV, And once I had their address, I anonymously sent them a tip: “Say NO to funny business!”

K Reassessed

Oh to be a sick horse; To be able to get daily reminders Of the existence of God

Via the means of ketamine; Oh to be a poor, sick old horse.

Oh to be a Bristol Rovers fan; To have been gifted the ability To see the light

Via promotion on the final day With a 7-0 win that ensured it; Oh to be a Pirate, or part of the Gas – ooh-ar.

Say a prayer for the lonely horses, Stuck on their own in a field, Surrounded by food, their grass, But no love, no companionship, No purpose, no cute bit of horsey ass.

Say a prayer for that Exeter fan, Having travelled alone up to Carlisle... Actually no, he didn’t need our prayers; He knew he was going to enjoy himself; And at 2-0, prayers are answered.

Taking Flight

Snakebite Peter Wright

Changed his flights

After the first three sets.

The showman with the Mohican Seemed to recover his form And went on to win.

Might have been all a show for his fans –In Ally Pally and back in Scotland –Just another colourful conjuring trick.

Snidey

Are you a blue tit person?

Grey tick or blue tick?

Do you live online

Or are you live and alive?

Do you thrive

On green lights?

The word “read”; The word “delivered”?

The snidiest of all

Are those who don’t allow You to search their friends’ list –

“I don’t understand the internet” they’ll say –So how did you alter that setting?!

But no worries, Cos I got your best friend’s number anyway.

Getting A Move On

It was see who’d get home first –I was the hare with the car.

But they’d forgotten –As they were repping the tortoise –They didn’t need to go fast, Or they oughtn’t have gone fast –They must have known I was Going to have to let them win –I’d been fortunate they’d let me in at all.

So I stopped for a fag Or a breather, didn’t even Finish it, as there they were Home, together, More like the fox and the ferret. We clambered in; It was meatballs and testicles for tea at 2am.

Over Exposed

Have you noticed

How these days

You can’t say anything

Without someone seeing Something sexual –Perhaps it’s always been that way?

My gran was of the generation For whom gay meant jolly (obvious example).

Now, talk of seven inch singles will be a folly –What the hell else do you call them?

“Small records”?! Golly –

That’s a word that today is used rarely.

I thought I’d unravelled the real Banksy –An artist with stencils and stuff around his pad But I guess if he doesn’t want to be exposed, He could be as blatant as he likes And get away with it – probably just a rival anyway.

Speak the work exposure

To Kelly, and the next thing, She’s flashing her boobs to the stars For no reason – she just doesn’t care, But being just a little too care-free, Then she falls over, But no damage done, Crown still in place, Before the hare v tortoise race, Which they won.

Don’t Burn Your Bridges

If you don’t have too much time, Don’t spend an aeon.

If a fan of Gareth Bale, You don’t have to wear a bun.

Don’t waste time with a so-called fren

When you know that he’s a cun.

If you think a task is finished, Don’t assume that it is done.

If you what you need is six of the best

Don’t go looking for eleven

If right now your life is good, Don’t go looking for more fun.

If no-one’s throwing stones

Don’t go looking for a gun.

Even if you still love your ex, Try not to call her hun.

You might not know what’s going on Don’t seek more information

If you think you just can’t see the way It’s just another junction.

If life seems like a puzzle, It’s really no kerplunk.

Don’t get banned from your favourite pubs

Or you’ll be kept out of the link.

Don’t call him your best pal

When you know he’s known as mun.

Don’t go calling your ex a slag

Even though she ain’t no nun.

Don’t moan you can’t get seen

If you need an operation.

Don’t go saying you’ve got no time

Have a bit more patienʻ.

To be or not to be That was the question. If all around seems irrational

You can still find the reason.

Read the Echo, forget the Mirror

And of course don’t buy The Sun, If you really feel you have to bet Just don’t put down a ton.

If you want in, forget the un, It’s just unnecessary.

If you vant the vun, just keep on And on; try your very very

Best. Be bulletproof, you’ve not lost But do you think you’ve won?

You’re no Carl Yung

You’re still young, You’ve a life to lead, Es to take Before your final Zed.

The Watch Mender

It wouldn't happen on his watch he told me And I trusted him, put my faith in him, But they say never trust a crack 'ed.

They'll say they swear on their mother's graves More reliable than any slave Cos all they want is the 20 they crave.

Arguments that are never wanted or needed are started Like fires started by lightning. It's always the kids who are blamed When most likely it was someone's mum Who said something to whatsisname's dad.

They're told to be good boys and go to bed; Tomorrow's another day; Try not to live a life of dread. So obediently I do as I'm told. Getting too old for this shit.

They say not to end the day with an argument So I contemplate slitting my wrist instead. In bed.

Snippets of a WhatsApp Group Chat

Sorry for the joke that was a little bit in bad taste. I just took the opportunity to make such a joke –And I was a bit wound up with you despite You putting on a lovely birthday celebration for me, Which I was grateful for, But you didn't tell me that the DJ was you. I felt terrible about missing this, And I just wished that you'd told one of us.

She does make me laugh this girl!!

AC turned on disappearing messages. All new messages will disappear from this chat 24 hours after they're sent. Tap to change.

Snapshot of CULTVR, a legitimate reason for flying the flag

With the dome being utilised to full effect, For a good while, me and Neil Just spent our time gazing up wondering: Is this God doing this?

Humans?

Nature?

Or technology?

Or some kind of amalgam of all four.

Also home to Digitale and great night featuring TELGATE

I let out a primal scream of joy

Your love shines on she sang