The Exploding Anarchist r The Doing of Visions

Up Against the Global Wall



The Exploding Anarchist,

The Doicg of Visions,

UP AGAINST T d;%vs cunlipfe

Published by BB Bks,

11 Clematis Street,



BB2 6JP.

tf ALL

Poems in this "book have appeared in the following magazines: Stanza, Caliban, Peace News, Poetdoos, Asylum, Resistance, Paperway, Congress, Broadsheet, Poetaeat, Imprint

and in the anthologies: Thunderbolt® of Peace and Liberation (BB Bks), Lord of the Carnage ( BB Bks), Anthology of Little Magatine Poets (Asylua). and Children of Albion (Penguin)

( B AL

UP AGAINST THE GLCBAL WALL ; an informative confession

Born 19*1 in Blackburn. Grim Northern schools. Exciting terraced streets. Shops, warehouses, factories. Flick knives and razors. Fights. Teddy Boy olothes. Jazzf rock'n rcll* Cities. Beat Generation. Poetry. CND, Cct of 100, Peace News, Freedon. Hemp cultivation.

Co-editor of Poetmeat, avant-gardo literary magazine (1963-7)♦ Director/ editor of BB Bks and co-compiler of PM Newsletter* Co-compiler cf Vegfin Action Newsletter, for the defence and liberation of all beings and things. Two previously published poetry collections: Night Book of The Mad (Screeches Publications) and Deep Tithin This Book Cf 5'ath Is Writ A Description f*f The Beast (BB Bks).

Prosecuted in 19*>5 as publisher of The Golden Convolvulus: a literary and sociological collage (concerning contemporary sexual attitudes) compiled by the Anarchist painter and critic, Arthur Moyse. Legal struggle supported by libertarian political left, underground and literary Establishment. Poets, students, monks, psychologists pleaded my freedoa and jury declared book 'indecent1 but not fobscene1. This stopped police raids aid seizures*

Married to the beautiful Tina Morris, which is indescribable and undeserved good luck* Presently works at a hospital institution* Survived broken head after assault by machine on wheels. Push-bike did not. Writes poetry, criticisms and ethical and revolutionary philosophy for literary and libertarian underground publications.

Produces and disseminates newslett ers, little magazines, small press books, because convinced of a need for fluid amd flexible free networks of artietic communication; bypassing the hostility and indifferemce;of mass-media and oonmercial publishing. To generate creative participation from the community and make obsolete all cultural Establishments and self-perpetuating vested interests* ctd***

A Tantric Buddhist. Tantra is psycho-expcrimcntal and the lirtetrtion of its various methods is to stop the universe working through the interaction of the p61es of activity and passivity, by merging thee* It is the fusion of opposites by a reinterpenetration of them or a deep recognition that they do not in reality exist* It is not a knowing for it presupposes that there can be no dualism of knewer and known.

A Pacifist and Vegan Activist because convinced that the microcosm is the macrocosm and an injury to one is an injury to all: past, present and future. Believes in the innor-identity and external solidarity of all who *xist. That violence is authoritarian and counter-revolutionary but makes a distinction between violence and defensive force. Thus fights against the Death Industry and butchery complex. Eats mainly raw foods; fruit, .vegetables, nuts, pulses, seeds, whole grains, yeasts. Revolutionary Ahimsa.

I4n Anarchist who feels that rebellion is as essential and natural as •breathing and is necessary until total liberation is attained. An extremist icrank who, in a world gone utterly mad, claims some vestiges of sanity. |tfithin this interwoven tapestry of life and death. Upon the round surface ;of this oner wondrous earth. Beneath the beautiful undulating sun. ^Technological nightmare. Educational concentration camps and conditioning factorie s. Atmospheric pollution. Environmental despoliation. Ecologioal diaaster. Chemical and bacteriological warfare. Genocide, murder, torture. Slavery. Exploitation. Dehumanisation, regimentation, uniformity. Totalitarianism. Fascism. Escalating insanity. Vivisection laboratories. *lesh farms. Slaughter houses. Butcher shops. Government. Bureaucracy. Capitalism. Armies, police, courts, jails. Lies, censorship, distortion. Repression, oppression. Obscene conformity. Rigid dogmatism. Bankrupt Imaginations. Corrupt and wickcd institutions.

Within this suicidal human extermination camp, the anarchist poet stands JP AGAINST THE GLOBAL TALL and roars defiance. *.7e are the future and :an't be stopped. Together wefll destroy this death bestowing SYSTEM for ;oo long it1s raped and enslaved our spirits.

c - Dave Cunliffe*

Would she return at peace

Without a smile she bids goodbye.

At this very moment they are working on new ways to finish us off.

Silently and without ceremony as she came.

They are killing us one by one in strange indiscriminate vrays. Of endless carnage in earth's slaughter-house, nothing will deter.

Her absence hangs heavily about this room.

Outside, mad butchery slays the night.

They plan to pluck our breath out at its source.

Would she return at peace and undisturbed.

VTithin this beautiful silvery web there lurks the bitter hand of death

Her eyes roflect snow covered hills on a clear day. Such beauty is a wild fruit freshly picked.

Yet the dove carries blood upon its bewildered wings.

And the wandering hernit beggar man can sec the truth. Ar clearly as those distant hills embraced by early frost*

Wisdom walks laden only with deep sorrow for all things.

She overflows with the greatest goodness ever known. As if a nountain stream feeding a hungry forest thirst.

Yet the dove of peace bears a full ripe strawberry stain.

They want your soul, brother

Don't ask me for your coat, brother* They've declared Tar out there*

Pretty soon they'll be coming to seek us out*

It1a not safe to open your mouth, brother* And venture an opinion on anything.

There are still men sitting doing nothing but ordering

other men around and sote men sweating

their spirits away, making other men's reputations*

Their newspapers never tell the truth.

Don't ever chew the dead legs of an anio&l, brother*

Far too »any of us are eating stolen food

and devouring blood still fresh from the kill*

te are all hunted oreatures, brother* Theyfre tracking us down and they1re sure to piok up the scent and find us here*

They want your soul, brother.

To crush it into defeat and wring out the juice.

Here is your coat, brother. We'll go now and have it out*

Some folks seem to go .through hell wi$hoyt gain

There was this old lama, a good kindly man, proudly sitting in the marketplace telling his beads and sone idiot muledriver had just happened to pocket one the previous night*

Well to get to the sad point, the poor guy couldn't figure out what was wrong & kept on starting again.

No matter hov we struggle, persevere & attain* Somebody comes along to foul up the works*

Milarepa kept on building mighty castles and beautiful monasteries A as soon as they were finished Harps, knocked em down*

Milaropa learnt this lesson the hard vray & when he accidentally broke the pot he cooked his nettle dinner in he didn't cry*

That old lama still sat there in the very same placo scratching his head & counting his beads & looking grim.

Heaven never seems to make It outside our imagination

A long long time from no*.

At a place not yet known.

In some undiscovered distant land.

Where concrete is forever dust.

And greed and wickedness have not arisen

As rich as soil that is never dug. In harmony as if a rhythta of the land. A fertile earth free from chemical stain.

Of our time in that unDolluted place. All things are seen as if in dreads. Every hope is realised in such visions.

That uneasy calm out there betrays the future. There is much bitter knowing that cannot forget. There is frustration and despair at the ccntre of things. A great swamp of discontent restless at our foundations.

Heaven awaits an angry horse with iron feetr A phantom beast to stampede over this sorry globe. Trampling all the dirt of the world underfoot.

Some men have survived a time of which they dare not speak

There's something hidden moving in there. Some unknown thing crawling around within.

Something sinister is threatening you. Its unseen presence filling up the gaps.

Nothing innocent or beautiful is known to this. It leaves a quivering trace of sline upon her cheek.

rfho dare know its secret thoughts.

Who will be protected against its unkind hand.

No use is sacred purity or holy rites. No use to slay or exorcise this beast.

Some unseen thing is grimly pounding on your brain. There is but one way known for it to be destroyed.

How it is so very e.«yay to clearly see the fake in the most genuine of men

As you think you know acme of the answers. As you feel a little of that wisdom bit has rubbed off onto you & with proper cultivation you are sure a smattering of it will maybe stick*

Make a quick dato with the bathroom mirror* Figure out just how you measure up to that-

If you look hard & long & clear enough*

You will see things you would not choose to see*

Things you hope no other nan will ever see*

& I feared nothing but*.*.

She looked at me from a distance A said... "What if there1 s nothing at all out there?11

A palace is a goddam awful place in which to die. It is so hard to learn to use a wooden spoon.

"Vfhat if one day it had to cone?"

Throwing bricks is a crude tay to finish off. itfho could guess how *any tears we dry?

tf'.Then its awful black bony hands oover my face."

I can find no words to make anyone understand. She does not 3leop contented upon the floor.

"Please protect ae against all hurt & pain.*

& as something unknown claws away the door fastenings. & as an invisible thing tears apart our room's comforting veil.

Please tell us just why you trample over all our dreams

All that oralis and walks and flies and swic:s. Deserves a world which no man has yet crcated. Such beauty demands some truly special cherished globe.

You have invented gods and love and freedom*

But unceasingly vibrate the deepest needs yet known.

Justify to us our crippled spirits. Describe why your machine enslaves us. Explain so many broken minds away.

All the beauty of this world you claim as yours.

There is little upon this planet that we can use or own*

Well hefd been around longer than anybody else. He knew all the people, had made all the scenes.

So he was sitting on his own stool at the bar, seeing the others, being seen & feeling fine, when this green kid walked right up to him to ask if he was really him, swallowed hard, shook hands & spat straight in his face.

Then there's the story of the dooraan who was sick over some celebrity's starched shirt, just as he was fixing to put across a practioed dentured cheesc into the morning editions who flashed up for the rest of the evening as they followed him arcund.

Not to mention the politician who got the shits badly bang in the middle of his big speech A right in front of all those television arclights too.

'7hen you're all puffed up, sitting comfortably on iaportanoe or strutting around with satisfied pride. You'd better check that you haven't left any buttons undone, see your nose is Qlean A hopo your bolly behaves itself.

It's easy to be born again & a^ain but so very hard to die for long,«„

He had a feeling it was to be a rather special day*

It was one of those rare tines when he was able for a oocent to look deep into his own mind A clearly see that he was far too wise & much too good to ever be born again*

Just when he thought he really had it made at last* Just as he felt the shroud tickling his chin* The blinds came down A the light ran out* Trapped trapped within some lost imagination*

Nothing i&^real within this dream Nothing exists outside this mind

How this child keeps on gazing out of tho utmost window. How she nightly climbs up all those stairs to stare.

0 the lady with deep kindly eyes A long soft flowing hair. 0 the princess A the mother A the queen hide away out there.

Outside this room nothing is ever seen to move.

How this child does search A weep A pray beneath that roof. How the utmost window A the stairs do nightly comfort her.

Homage to the Spirit Breath, Mind Hoot ft Wisdom Seed.

No need to tremble in the presence of our Thoughts. It is our timeless task to visualise their unspoken Name.

To speak of a Radiance even brighter than sun, or tree or bird or sky, is but to f^.il Them.

ft after Perceiving with naked, unclouded Eye the indescribable beauty of their uncreated Form.

There is no tongue or paint or pen, upon this Earth, able to describe Then.

We can but listen to Woodland's ecstatic, vibrating Speech. Its »any tongues of Colour, ever flowing towards the Light.

Yet even in this visionary Nature wisdom, we fail to identify Theo

Vision is rediscovery of what we already know, for we, ourselves, are both the Creator ft the Bom.

To know this is the only way in which we can praise Them.

Trapped within this round globe

Ccld is the future that cannot be stopped. So please get out of the way.

You lie silently in case the cause is known. A young tree, unsure in the store.

Short-haired hoodlum cops look down. Unknowing and aloof from it all*

As if they cannot explain a hurt away.

Like aandeliono fused brightly with the wind.

A damp and dirty cattress for the anarchist and whore.

If you ever get to thinking...

Your cathedrals arc defiled by money and greed. Your palaces are the rooting grounds of pigs. You inspire no trust; arc never conforting.

You are polite, faceless and utterly mad. Your very presence soils all purity Debases all boauty end denies all truth.

An obscene festering cancerous sore. Corruptor, destoyer; noxious thing. A cruel wickedness upon the land.

Did not Jesus cherish his destiny. This sad and lonely brotherhood. Freedom is slow moving and long overdue.

The losor is no better than the rest

Nothing gets away fast.

Empty is the hole of a hangman1s heart.

Nobody weeps for the lame fox.

'/•ide is the gao between a soldier's hands.

Somebody else will yet tremble and crawl. Just as long as wo remain unshattercd. For as long as we dare stay glorious. Scattering so wearily his jpent vomit.

Cur past is a pretty accurate prophecy. Our future doesn't own a final answer. Hard is the time of dying among friends. Your cherished pals trading you in.

Living in the hope of seeing different times. Our ribs wont crack under unknown boots. As long as we keep our mouths shut tight. Luckily others will taste the stones of death.

Nowhere is a hiding plaoe Tlie beginning is a long way off. Memories never leave their host. The end is here but always unforseen.

There are some of us

who stray not fnc /roc hell

"It1s all go", cried the yogin-Polishing up his magic dagger-"All ir>y life I've had it hard". Chasing up and down the mountains-Stabbing all those wicked demons-

"Heigh ho", cighed the yogin. Straddling a bony dakini* "It's been a long dark passage"-Squatting in oold cemeteries-Clanking skulls around and around-

An old rosary wearing his fingers away-Stringing up prayer-flags in a storm-A blocked-up thigh-bone trumpet-No hamaer in the ritual bell-No clappers on the mystic drum.

Sad and despondent was the yogin* Sitting before a sacred altar-ffith consecrated water and sacrificial cakes-Having constructed a tantric mandala-In order to invoke his guardian deity-

And oouldnft remember how to begin-

The sleeping fingers tightly curl upon the nighty hand of God

How all that acid is gnawing away inside your head. How you are stretched taut upon 3orae glaring light.

Hung up on visions; trapped trapped trapped again.

Jesus made use of a protective guardian deity. A Jewish tribal God ikon intended to aid release.

Grew addicted to. his symbol; hooked and trap unsprung.

How we cherish such fetters, laws and jails. How we love our prisons of the mind.

Ego-bound; trapped within linked meoory chains.

Rigid blind deluded ignorant unknowing man.

Life affirming; fearing icpurmanancc, decay and death.

Trapped trapped; attached forever to it all.

You ask why this elm tree docs not talk to you. It Is because it already knows as such aa we will ever know

No one will ever know just why he cherished her Sickly bitter face or freely forgave her evil ways. Or why he followed her, at a distance, for many years & chose to remain forever close but unannounced.

Or why he would, so aany her still drunken sxde 3t as soon as she did stir, enough to see that never

ticea, sit silently by steal skillfully away but always stayed near was her rest disturhed.

He was the gentle guardian of a ravaged shrine. Faithfully watchful over her suffering days. Ever mindful of her every need A want. Yet never once did he seek to speak to her.


Thia planet grows more unreal A we pore f*\ke

For the vegetarian magazines arc full of ads for substitute joints & cutlets; not to mention imitation fur coats & simulated leopard skin rugs.

So many people so scared of wasted lungs that they protect their bellows by sucking on tubes which look just like nicotene rolls.

Lots of other human beings are chomping their machine-made food with cachine-made teeth A planting plastic flowers in the lawn.

Some folks never do learn how to get around on foot & those computer-dating firms take the hunting hasslo out of sex*

All that iron on wheels is eating up good oxygen

much faster than it manages to put us out of circulation.

It's getting so difficult remembering what real life was like & the artificial kids growing up today are finding it so very hard getting through their long hard slog to the grave that it might save a lot of trouble if we finished it off*

We could stop making babies A let the machines sort out the mess* That is unless wc feel like dumping all thosetfactories in the sea*

You have knotm.-f.aJVworse places than this

It is so very good fcr us to be protected against all hurt A have no need of comforters

Must you forever talk of war & agony-

No man can truly be defeated, tfhose life does death defend.

Decay stalks the shadows of empty rivalry.

It is so pleasing to cherish some lasting truth & have the boundless strength of shared identity.

You have dwelt in far worse places than this.

* upon her soft whit-*- troubling human nock he gently, jtasiiioned slender garlands of newly fallen blossom & fros his red taut earnest mortal ears she hung wild flower posies & upon her tender smiling tongue he planted poppy seeds & upon his eager naked chost she placed strong rambling vines & around his urgent pleading outstretched fingers she twined sweet scented roses & daisychains & then they laid together in tall stiff grass & richly soiled woodland blisa throut the still warm silent night & before they parted each joyfully blew fragrant marijuana smoke into the other's quivering nostrils as if to bless their fused union & ensure that no beautiful innocent unknowing minds could ever again be raped or poisoned by worldly hatred & that every living being might wondrously stay forever free froc any real or lasting hurt.

0 it is so comforting for us to truly know that no depths of agony or ecstasy, born by us poor ignorant human men, need ever again be endured or enjoyed alone.

It docs not matter that we now deny all truth & imagine freedom forever beyond our grasp. 7e will yet seek deliverance from our prison minds & rediscover, within, a deeper universal Self.

Somewhere, in some man's visionary imagination, that scc^et sacred city already exists <& even now beckons & implores us each to tread the path to where peace is more than just another word upon the tongue.

Of such luminosity la the colourless 11/,ht which radiates from Earth Mother Dinka

She floats upon her formless throne. Outer eyes illuminating a dying rorld. Looking upon only that which lives. No toucher or touched in her donain.

She descends through countless imaginary heavenly reigns. Down into this bittor hellish globe. Turning her inner eye upon the world.

Of all the deities we have imagined and created within our minds. Of all gods and goddesses knov/n in time. She is far more precious than them all.

0 Mother of Compassion shine brightly clear, fireat Mother of the Earth and beyond beyond. Of Is and Is Not forever transcended. Dinka your treasure upon us bestow.

Do not thoughts in the night sometimes trouble you

'Then you saw that dopey cow (Just about to polish off a patch of Juicy grass & almost before it could start chewing it was dragged off to the nearest slaughterhouse in a truck with a few of its hungry friends for cocsoany.

When you happened to spot some fat pig of a butcher hacking away at that very same dead cow's inside, hooking up its severed corpse at the centrc of his window-display♦

Yfhen you watched a group of dumb society bitches hogging away at fleshy portions of that slaughtered cow's anatomy. Their silly stupid painted faces dripping with roasted fat as they spat out some clean-sucked bones & gristle.

When you sat alone upon a wooden stool at that small eating counter in your favourite snack-bar A eage ly wielded a plastic knife & fork & finished off with a pot of coffee & then walked out into a cold night which quickly chilled your warm belly did you not perhaps for a moment reflect that one greasy beef hamburger was less than fully satisfying.

Do you now understand why birds floe frorr. our approach A flqwers shrivel at cur touch A vrhy rosebush thorns have long ceased to react gently & trees give grudging shelter A why owls often stare with sad reproachful eyes & why even the lovely friendly sun hides willingly behind each threatening cloud*

3o»eday, some future child may comc to doubt that prisons ever really did exist A think that war A hate were no more than the fantasy of some sick imagination.

It is enough we know of such terrible things. Not ready or content to build with love A joy. Must those who know do no more than weep A those to come be burdened with our bitter truth.

Tie arc all now victims of these wicked institutions. Yet each deeply, equally, truly beautiful beings within. May that child understand A perhaps forgive this shame A cherish our wondrous, innocent, naked Self beneath.

If He Indeed Th».t Kind ff Man

Should he chance to meet soae superhuman thing. Should he ever confront his creator face to faoe.

If he's blest with a living healthy mind.

If he carries deep reservoirs of courage A strength.

Be he such a man in such an age at such a tine. Be he fortunate or unlucky enough to have the chance.

That nan would perhaps stand upon his simple human dignity. That man would perhaps gaze at his Dakar with understanding eyes.

& with boundless compassion he may be filled. & with infinite wisdoa he may whisper in those mighty ears.

H0 you poor sad creature pitiful suffering thing. I freely forgive you God for you know not what you do*.

As If an undulating and exploding planet

As if an undulating and exploding planet-.*

Vibrating in harmony with a cosmic dance* Hands resting with amazercent upon her face* She flows brightly through rcy mind-Warm awesome glory trembling to bestow-

As if avoiding seoret deep interior places-*-

Does she not tread upon wonder1s surface* Does she not glide over beauty1s globe-Disdainful of cold courage and bloak bravery-Daring to trespass within richly rooms adorned-

Joseph Buckingham's sernon to the children he slaughtered

Not to surprise the sacred bitch in sleep. Or disturb her presence of sickly shadow.

Deep-sleep-drcamor woken-up. Gone beyond wisdom to know. Only as void does all exist.

Nothing to hide to lose to give away. Nothing to learn but how to unlearn. Nothing to do but undo everything done.

No more seeking beyond beyond. Beyond beyond already here. Understanding this is time to seek.

Grasp the indestructible jewel which shatters mind. Disperse, dispel, vanish; forever cease to exist.

A truly lovely lady



A doep beneath her permed, bleachcd hcadhair A tailored wig-switch A deep beneath her reshaped surgery nose, pierced cars, powder A colourful chemical face-paint A deep beneath her contact lenses, animal-hair eyelashes A plucked eyebrows A deep beneatjti her plastio teeth A braces A deep beneath her exclusive, expensive fashion-house .clothes.A deep-bertdafih; hefc' taped breasts, inflated bra, corsets, girdles, cheek-padded panties A easy-fix fingernails A deep beneath her shaved, de-odoured? perfumed armpits A genitals A deep beneath her original breeding, instant smile A fake charm A deep beneath the foundations of her realised dream-house A its incomprehensible labour-saving kitchen gadgetry A deep beneath her forced pride, false security, robot husband A imminent widowhood A deep beneath her monstrous t.v* screen A its scrambled newscasts A deep beneath her magazine subscription lists A deep beneath her conditioned reflexes A ■indless glossy philosophy A deep beneath her unendurable boredom A dedicated apathy A deep beneath her deep mental constipation A deep beneath her unreal reflection in daylight A deep beneath her fantasy image A deep beneath her supposed beauty A frustrated sexuality A deep beyond her deeply limited imagination, there dwells a truly lovely lady*

Exorcism of Pr>"rtx>n "Death Factory and Demon Germs

Raging wars have raped many dreams to death. Mad warriors trampling upon angelic wings. Hideous satanic bugs savaging our destiny.

0 the DEATH MACHINE consumes this planet with hatred. Devouring our blood-round globe. As if to forever spew it up.

tfe would destroy these prisons. Disband these mercenary armies. Vanish hangman, Judge and cop. Disappear bureaucrat, boss, exploiter. Government and other wicked institutions. Make butchery forever cease to exist.

ct d.. .

Soon we oust begin the doing cf visions. Por the brotherhood of man now turns to suicidal fat.

Our wondrous nakedness will yet defeat and exorcise all brutal bestial hordes. *E ABE THE FUTURE AND CAN'T BE STOPPED.

Within this interwoven tapestry of life and death. Ever moves the beautiful undulating sun. Sculpted by warm vibrations of oompassion. Shaped and fashioned by enduring love.

And beauty stands outside the Porton complex. Confronting an obscene festering cancer. Bestowing peace upon an industry of death.

And no Demon Geres will ever defile the innocence of truly harmless blood.

1  creep up close to her & fear nothing but...