If you sell your soul

Can you ever get it back?

Have you ever felt something

Slipping slowly from your grasp?

When that something lost is so vast

Can you just go on?

When you're in the fight of your life

And loose, can you forgive yourself?

When life's parade passes you by

Do you bother to wave?

Can you keep asking the questions

With answers too hard to face?

Ca...

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Still, as sounds flow through me like ripples,

Her metronome voice glows as she talks, leaving a euphoric feeling.

Melancholy breathing hones focus to my heart beating,

Dissipating my worldly ruminations.

Lucid is how I felt after her rhythmic voice receded,

The ripples still imbued in me lingered.

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I want the days of peace and silence,

The days of kind and good looks.

The days of supportive reliance,

The Days Without War hooks.

I don't want to see the people's fears,

I don't want to speak about money.

In the world of bloody ideas

You won't hear the word "honey".

I just want to keep silent.

I don't expect the answer,

I want to live on a ...

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Quick behind a keyboard a screen to protect him

Without a thought my reply did affect him

Why are you offended by my opinion he asked 

He knew that I knew his words just a mask

Scars from llifetimes of many a broken promise 

Plated served. . in the same breath taken from us 

I feel you invisible brother faceless friend Pattern changes now resolving healing on the m...

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At every corner of the world I turn,

I come across the stink and shape of death

And dodge the battered buildings to keep safe.

Yet still I hear the noisy men of war

Talk euphemistically of grades and gain,

Assuring us that all they want is peace.

Sad to relate, that treasured bird has flown;

From this time on, our God is on his own.

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The cooing of the dove grows fierce
Upon hearing that its land is no longer safe
Many have died without a trace
Many hearts have turned to ashes

The wind speaks to the dove,
"Do you not know, there is something that can wound without a cut?"
"Do you not know, there is something that can set hearts ablaze?"
"It has no form, yet it feels sharp.”
"It has no form, yet hearts struck by it fee...

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…and did those boots in World War time,

Stamp around England’s pleasant land:

And were those Blackshirt fascist sods,

From Cable Street off-seen!

Never did we countenance a time,

When journalists would see th’ Old Bill!

At dawn, a-knocking on their doors,

For telling truth, with fear instilled!

We must not cease Evil to Fight,,

Nor must my pen sleep in my hand...

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This just in
The faulty firing pin — from a fire arm
had become dislodged
effectively,
causing it to misfire

very briefly …
in acceptance of all responsibility
the city-state committee
has sent a representative
that will be answering questions

now… back to you

in other news
we have a sunny forecast

there’s a color shader
right there, on
this heat map
that has an infrared si...

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‘Look at the big picture,’

Cried the man in the suit.

So I took his advice

And ignored the sniper,

The stiff, the nightly raid,

The trivia of grief.

I turned to the summit,

Its polished chandeliers,

Its underarm hygiene,

Its on-tap refreshment,

(‘Still or sparkling, Madam?),

While, in the dregs of war,

The uninvited crouch

And hope the shells will miss.

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On the train this morning
I sat alone, by the window
Where normally there’d be coffee, warm
and all the world’s news in my ear

Instead, I chose dry silence
I chose the undulating wildness
strobing past my view way
I chose high green hills
and glinting mirrored rivers 
I chose lone trees, centuries old
strong against the elements
I chose lambs and sheep
moving in pairs or herds
I cho...

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People are cheaper, things are more expensive,

With a lack of spirituality, men are more offensive.

Ducky lips and selfie, a bare ass,

They forgot the beautiful word “lass”.

Passing by the poor people, watching mangy cats

Their faces remind me of dangerous rats.

His dad is a deputy, he studied in the States,

Now he is responsible for others' fates.

Someone is fi...

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Don’t shoot!

Stop the violence,

Stop the killing.

Don’t waste your time with gods,

Or clerics on the greasy pole,

Or warped ideology

Which tells you what to think,

Or the cult of the madmen,

The travelling circus,

The usual suspects,

The old men in suits,

The gap –

Between the theory and the practice.

Be yourself;

Lay down your arms,

Reach out your hand...

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There's a phone at my work

And you might think me a berk

But it calls me from a mindful zone

A place I like to visit alone

Ear to the top

As sounds fizzle and hop

It is a direct line

To feeling fine

I hear wind, birds, hussle and bustle

A universe unexplored in the rustle

Even in short bursts, it quenches my thirst

Distorting my mind toward what's first

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Granite grandeur draped in snow,

soft whisper falls, clear water flows.

No hand extends to measure time,

no cares ascend, no worries find.

For purpose fades into the still,

a tranquil peace here in the chill

What part of time and space am I?

So small beneath the endless sky,

a spec of dust, a grain of sand…

yet cradled in the Master’s hand.

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A viper slides its way beneath the grass;

The animals of prey are on the prowl.

The innocent and helpless stand no chance

Against the savage tastes of hawk and owl.

Upstairs, forbidden lovers take the plunge;

Their beads of sticky sweat adorn the bed.

She’s fast asleep while he boosts up his pack;

Outside waits a procession of the dead.

The hunters beat the heavin...

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