Oct06

The Circle – Part IX – Ben, John and Pam. The circle is silent, deep in their trance. John sees the small boat in rough seas again, But, the small details have changed at first glance, And the figure’s a man who looks like Ben. In shock, John is snapped out of his vision And…

Sep29

It’s always a loop – love. Echoing in the chambers. Her name tattooed across the night by a drunken fool who lurches into front gardens, disturbing foxes and dustbins, for some unrequited romancing and a bit of dodging father’s shoes. That name will never be smudged and the fool remains a fool, to chew on…

Sep28

Guilt is the worst motivator. It mutates good intentions into monstrous forms, Like Frankenstein’s monster. The bad bits are sewn together hurriedly In a collage of twisted, distorted limbs. Forethought, sense and design are absurd When the minority must be appeased At the expense of a majority. It doesn’t help the needful when The provider…

Sep27

In turquoise seas she plays with salty breast And rolls in foam, the sand coating her chest. Apparent ease at close up camera clicking. Paraded coyly with her long legs kicking. The waters clean her skin but not the marks And rising tides wash-up old memories Of glanced-at prints that flooded flawless cheeks: A touch…

Sep26

Ode to Being. Arise good folk that fortune passed who toil on now in gravid fields to reap the grain and end the fast with course, fine grist milled so it yields a gift of golden rising bread, laid on the Master’s table spread. Their bellies called like howling hounds baying for hunting at the…

Sep25

Milking the Witch. Burning! burning high, upon her altar, Stoking blazing beacons for the broken, She weaves andsacan magic Deep into the folds of her jet-black cloak. Adorned with rough head-dress of oak mystically warped, Spiked rosewood hoops hang around her neck, piercing and scarring her pale, waxy skin. She unveils her breasts, brimming with…

Sep24

Sonnet XIII. If I were to whatever forever while cinematic backgrounds still play on, no one, not one person whatsoever, would listen to me or my mellotron. Maybe if I strip naked, dance in time, and paint my skin a deep orangish tint, be naughty with water pistol and slime, pepper them with glitter and…

Sep23

I used to think that I could hope. A hope that draws a dreamy sigh. Inject it like some creamy dope And feel it creeping to the high. But now I know that hope is lost. I lost it as I stupefied. Addiction brought cascading cost That crippled as I slowly died.

Sep22

Marvellous flexing aura, In constant change, Bring us closer to truth. In truth, in wild yonder, We wonder under The illuminating blanket Warming the winter sky, Hopefully to thaw Any unnatural selections, Any unbalanced equations That twist like those visual strands Across the arctic horizon. Let it lead us And bring us into equilibrium, Holding…

Sep21

Surfing the tables, burning A pocketful of puff, Rough, off the cuff, And curling, the table turning. Rolling in dough, for show, Encrusting the rings, Every day’s things On the street-worn skid-row. And there’s beef and a fat reef, The wisps caressing the lung And lines lined up among The brief relief from the grief….