Wednesday, 8 July 2020
Romans 7 : but I am carnal
Fornication be, an unpleasant throne,
One can take account of a mouse in scuffle,
within a vast hall, ye! the truth ere shame
Contradict none, yet the same
To wear a jewel, a coat of thy blame
Heathen without blessing,
Be the blessed host, angel with fear
Tinder burn the frame, a coat of tear’
Wondrous joyful essence, a tragic chance
Away to the flames for thy eternal dance.
Death seems pleasant, a moment of bliss
So easily tamed to that final kiss
The devil gratuitously, give ye a hand
Gods wanton child, to another land.
Monday, 6 July 2020
The cursed
Trick has fell from one to zero
A meeting chance, one last dance
From Rome in Italy to Paris in France
Closed communication
A wit, a woo
A dreadful end, a trip to the zoo
There is no sorrow
you know it too
Too
too.................... too......................too.
Monday, 1 June 2020
The Prince of Duplicity
He is gone, you will see him no more, along with his iniquities he has been subjected, pulled into the dark, quiet forevermore, as a fallen pebble into sand of quick, remorse shall follow him until his vision of day implodes, his soul dissipating, thus gaining a place in hell forevermore.
Gone is he, the man of power and pause, a prince of the realm, nay a prince of iniquity, his reputation in tatters before the world to see, the difference from a fake reality, forbidden to practice highly charged sensuality, freedom no more, for gone is he, gone is the prince of duplicity.
Wednesday, 13 May 2020
The parcel
I received a parcel addressed to someone else, there it lies, collecting dust on the shelf, I often look at it and wonder what I should do, the van man said it is for me and not for you, I could open it, to take a look inside, then again what secrets might it hide, I could take a cheeky peek but it may be something that I cannot keep, it might be mucky or something yucky it could be something rare or Lucky, I’m ever so concerned, a person could be missing out, I should open it really to find out what it’s all about but I daren’t as it’s Royal Mail and Im worried to find out now, it may belong to a neighbour or a present from a friend that they’ve saved a long time for something special to send, it’s agonising, so much I’m filled with tension, I fear it will be there when I collect my pension, okay, I’ll open it, no, I won’t, no I shan’t, no I can’t. I’ll leave it on the shelf for a little time longer until I’m feeling stronger.
Thursday, 7 May 2020
Anticipating Glenda
Patiently she waits for the wall to fall, not only to see the sky again but to feel it, a window open to Glenda is a glimpse of someone’s life, a person that’s taken the horse by the bit, then releases the creature into an acceptable fit, it jumping with its new found freedom, leaping into the air for joy.
She sits silently, looking for change, hoping that John will come her way again, sometimes she glances him drinking tea, stroking her hair, kissing her face, like it used to be, memories bring him back for one last feint moment, yet not too clear, her memory fades just the same.
She sleeps and in her slumber, she dreams, of her House in the sky, John is there, doing the simple things, like mowing the lawn, then she wakes at dawn, he is again, gone!. she lives in hope of those moments they are together, for when she dies, she knows they will be.....forever
Glenda is fed her tea at six, lights switched out at ten, it doesn’t matter to her, so long as she can be with him again, the carers are kind and gentle beyond reproach, they dress her in a lovely dress with a gorgeous broach, John bought it for her, when they had wed, he was her one and only living coach.
The pasture where John lay is far, far away on the other side of the U.K., Glenda waits patiently for the wall to fall, for the last time..she is thinking of the never ending moment, like two young lovers, in each other’s arms, hardly seen, on the field of green, very much in love they will be as bewildering spirits in the night, a pair of white doves taking flight.
Forever and a day.
Tuesday, 31 March 2020
Cyclops
Cyclops, as sinister as a wasp, chasing around, without release, in charge of the animals and rounding up other geese, Uncle Bill laughed in his ironic way, yet that silly old goose, would just bite him anyway.
Miss you both Pat and Bill, you will be in our memories forever.
Hats on my Brow
Lay the offer of ‘Kind Sensual Sex’ I would say ‘Sorry Not Now’ Coz, I always wear my ‘Hats’ on my brow though I feel I must say for there ...
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Glance at the phone, contacting no-one, letters unopened, see bygones be gone, lie in a darkened room, while not wanting to venture outsid...
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Deep as an arrow, wounded by thy words of bitter resentment, cut in throes of ecstasy, same toxicity, hurt on the right, tr...
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Movement is to do, better still not! It is a feeling, a moment in time a thought or a critique sublime never mind the bullshit be easy on ...
