Deep Underground Poetry User Review 2021
I used to think that everyone on the internet was nothing more than a clever thief waiting to steal my ideas, I was wrongÖ
Deep underground poetry isÖa limitless cavern of dreams, it is vast and it expanding, it getting bigger everyday and itís filled with what George Carlin called ďbrain droppings.Ē Anyone can take residence in the cavern and pour out of their brains. I myself have poured my brain onto the floor of DUP for many years; most of it was brain droppings and bullshit. I was shit mining. I was a professional brain-shit miner. Some people told me my shit was gold. Sometimes I felt like it was wood, iron, sometimes paper. Iíve have yet to mine a diamond. Maybe I will one day. All any poet can hope for is that one day they will crap out a diamond?
I have taken many holidays inside the limitless space cave known as DUP. I lived inside the factory and stared at the floor. Some powerful scientists have theorised that the universe is expanding, some say itís getting smaller, the DUP universe is expanding.
Sometimes the cave-poets took the form of bat-like mythical creatures; they hung upside-down, and dropped different material out of their brains and onto the cavern floor. The floor has become an abstract painting made from diamonds, rubies, sapphires gold, iron, wood, paper, glass, porcelain, plastic, and shit. When you look at the cavern floor, you donít know what you are looking at.
I often wonder what I am looking at. Am I looking at gold, or am I looking at foolís gold, or am I looking at shit, spray painted gold? Itís not for me or anyone else to say with any academic sincerity or cock jerk emotional response. The people who are so sure of what they are looking at disgust me. No one knows for sure, and that is ok. It doesnít matter. It doesnít matter. It makes me happy to know that people have found a just community. In the limitless cyber caverns, I have found freedom from a world that has tried to chain down my body and my mind. The organic free range Egg of enjoyment crackles and bubbles on the cavern floor, and the floor reassures me that all of our pain has been worth it. There are diamonds and gems hidden deep underground, there are rubies and sapphires buried in the brain dung.
There is no face to face communication, we only read and hear each others word. That is a blessing, because peoples faces and the stuff they say brings me down and disgusts me most of the time. The Writers of DUP appear to me as mythical creatures, and as human beings, simultaneously shape shifting in the orange-red firelight of the cavern.
Sometimes I think Iím in a cave filled with Bat-robots, half organic half machine. Sometimes I see circles of Witches and Vampires, and werewolves, dancing round blue fire, in wild orgies. There are cyber pirates with chests full of treasure.
There are undiscovered sea monsters and squid-like sea creatures and there are teenagers. Sometimes they appear to me as woodland nymphs, cherubs, and moon thorns (Ursula K. Le Guinn). Sometimes I feel like Iím in an aviary, filled with vultures, birds of prey and song birds. † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † †
There are occultists underground, high priests and priestesses, conducting rituals in the shimmering light of the cyber blue flame. There are abstract artists hanging upside down. †† † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † †
Sometimes I see human beings and poets working together for their art. Sometimes I see poets. All of them are hanging upside down deep underground. I hang upside-down deep underground. I am grateful that the limitless cave exists. Without it I may have given up on writing. I feel proud to share it with the other creatures, with the dispossessed and the possessed, and the kind and gentle humans that I knew existed in the world, kind and genteel humans that know how to fuck and dance through life.
I wonder what mythical being they see me as; a cave slug, that occasionally transforms into a man.
Ursula K. Le Guinn Ė The Dispossessed
George Carlin Ė Brain droppings