On Easter Sunday

we'd roll hard boiled eggs

down hillsides

their painted shells would crack,

the beach over-run

by happy clapping gospel missions

and donkey rides,

I knew then "He's not coming back"

In another land

I saw a fractured child

broken by the war

cast aside by righteous rule...

such an act of inhumanity

there could be

n...

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Regard your hands with disgust.

Idle, they are the tools of wicked thought...

Your mind wanders the contours of things forbidden,

misused, it writes a script for dormant horrors...

the seed and the active ingredient repel,

whilst psychopathic imagination permits all...

the membrane of restraint is gossamer thin...

a butterfly wing betwixt heaven and hell

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I come awake, sunlight banishing the night,

clawing at curtains it smears the shabby walls...

the debris of yesterday best forgotten offends my sight,

relentless optimism cares not where on it falls.

The fog of memory lifts, dreams combust in vampiric flame.

I am adrift, ripped too early from interstellar torpor.

It's not that heavenly bodies could be held to any b...

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Of Succubus and Demons,

my dreams are filled with fiery hollows.

A grey figure lifts its gown

serpentine the foetus writhes,

my throat of blood floods to drown,

though I'm consumed; the child survives...

Followed by a beast that leads

nocturne sun devours the soul,

subconscious in my waking needs

the seventh circle takes me whole...

Deeper, Deeper ...

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See the crows with bloody beaks

that pluck the tongues

through which truth speaks

See the men with bloody tongues

that strike out truth

were e're it comes

See the scribes with words writ wrong

who care not where

their ink comes from

See the eyes that welcome blight

that fills their soul

yet steals their sight

See all this yet carry on?

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I thought I'd repost some vitriol this morning and let you decide who you wish to send it to.

Sycophantic,

word-pedantic

dictionary whore.

Your literary vacuum

leaves me wanting more.

Your spewing words

thick with rot,

from something ill ingested

tie my patience like a knot,

intestines worm infested.

You’re like a stain of afterbirth

stillbor...

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Step on step toward the crest

across timbered burn and stone,

where tumbling water knows no rest

save in the Loch below,

its rainy surge of silver gleam

frenetic in its fall,

like wealth hid in a black-rock seam

beyond the reach of all.

Yet onward, upward I will climb

against the easy way,

where greater joy than wealth is mine

and fewer men might say...

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No one knows who wasn't there,

at Casement Park.

No one knows who wasn't there,

on Churchill Avenue.

No one knows who wasn't there,

at Milltown Cemetery.

We were young and malleable

We were hammers and sharpened tools,

we were disposable yet valuable

we the puppets of murderous fools.

We heard the pavement split

We heard the double tap,

we knew t...

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On days the Robin doesn't come

I don't know where he goes,

but I can't be the only one

he sings to I suppose...

So in my mind I conjure him

as if to call him near,

that somewhere in my conjuring

his calls to me appear...

though better that his song is sung

so all mankind might share,

with calming notes our days begun

raised up by natures care...

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Where hedgerows twitch with flitting flight

I'll sit and think of you,

the Lapwing and the Common Snipe,

the Dunlin and Curlew...

the lilting peace of song and breeze

migrates my restless mind,

and like the feathered wing with ease

I'll leave this earth behind...

to fly to where you may have flown,

no need of worldly ties,

just as the birds are raised a...

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In the quiet dark it is easier to see and hear.

Satellites reconfigure their trajectories,

in the starlit black of nothingness and eternity

their soulless commands are the new creation.

No millennia terraforming or Darwinian accident,

nothing so beautifully patient from our un-divine architects.

The New Gods sit among their charges, howling with madness.

Soon all wil...

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On this our darkest night,

aurora stains the mountains red,

the impatient blade of morning

bleeds the starlight pale.

No staunch defence

could stem such blackness bled,

nor bar the shaft of golden day,

that all of life should fail.

And once so sure, our hearts entwined

beat the very same,

that spinning in their union

no imposter could unbind.

Yet ...

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Rocks will break the oceans top

and spill great sailors to their graves,

where hulls of ships become mere crop,

becalmed, at rest in coastal caves...

echoes of the timbers split

the wash and swell unseen by men,

blown by winds where lovers sit

whose hearts may never love again.

All men are wrecks upon some shore

their journey's spent, their cargo lost.

...

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In a conference of murderers

who can you trust?

All those knives

all those lies

In an alliance of economies

where do you bank?

No place of residence

no character reference

With your back to the wall

you have only fists, feet and teeth

You fight with no rules

because they made the rules

When you're betrayed and hung out

you h...

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The guts of men writhe like landed eels,

they spill as if they never end.

Brains like cod roe and fat

wrapped in paper, torn apart.

A tooth, an eye and half a scalp.

An ear inside a mouth, its tongue split Scarlet blue.

And now, where metal forged its deadly path

beneath the forests open wound, sunlight feasts with flies.

The living men so nearly d...

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It wasn't the morning that came,

nor the night that slipped from the sky,

but somewhere

between dreams

and my waking,

some other dimension

                                              passed by.

It wasn't an absence or presence,

nor the things with the traces of you,

but somewhere

between light

and moons crescent,

a ghost of you came

         ...

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"I thought I'd write something that offered hope then ripped it away, something more representative of real life"

They laughed at you,

your accent, your hair, your skin...

your knowledge of nothing

that they believed in.

Your best friend, a Jew

then Vikram the Sikh,

the Haggis, the Kosher,

the words you couldn't speak

Your smile now victorious,

wh...

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He takes a sack of crumpled shirts,

a puzzle

and a gun.

He leaves with wigs and mini skirts

and "Chuzzlewit"

for fun.

He's in a Queue at "Waitrose",

transformed,

an amazon,

all selfish hair and Dickens prose,

prior signs

of him, all gone.

The High Street hums with laundries,

wringing out

their blood-stained cash,

all shiny fronts and ta...

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A face as smooth as glass

that time has fallen from,

tracks of tears have passed

the weight of years moved on.

Hands purpura petalled

fold like angels wings,

hair as gentle snowflakes

a midnight clear might bring...

a robin on a window ledge

a flower full in bloom,

the sacred vow of loves long pledge,

a summer gone too soon.

And yet the song ...

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The reign is spitting mad

at the huddled masses yawning,

those maggots of the night

who hatch out in the morning,

it seeks to hold them under

to wash them clean away,

with their plastic bags of plunder

who'd miss them anyway?

They have no real accounts,

no footprint in the data

their sum to naught amounts

they are dead sooner than later.

They...

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In dreams my father is with me.

He lives in his nightmare wide awake.

In dreams my legs buckle.

He falls in his nightmare.

I see him, we cannot speak,

his frail hands outstretched to his child.

His hanging mouth a cave

with all his life inside, forgotten.

Asleep in his bed like amber in linen,

withered by time and ages rot.

So we meet bet...

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It's five o'clock in the morning, it's -5,

my dog pisses as she stares at me.

Her steam, my breath as one

I think she's laughing.

I'm laughing, I'm wearing shorts and a beanie.

What is this,

eccentric englishness?

Stars in silver sulphide pierce a frigid sky

a Supernova vents it's dying throes.

She stands from squat,

the Blackbird sings

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Used to be

I could get all the news I need

on the weather report

When days

were long

and darker times came in short

I could gather all the news I need

on the weather report

Hey, I've got nothing to do today

but cry

and to cry and to cry and to cry

for what's going on

is this the only dying world

our greed's brought.

Most ...

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Behind the songful thicket

where fields tuck in to ancient earth,

the tiny birds sing thanks to birth

trod and turned by boot and plough

much goes unseen by humans now.

Beyond the foamy edge

where breakers roll on timeless sand,

the wilding wind knows no command

stamped, then cleared by men and tides.

whose howls are drowned like griefs lost cries

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The bones of Christmas, ragged torn,

carved, discarded, bin-bound waste.

In the farmyard cruelly born

raised for purpose, culled in haste.

The ribboned knot of cast-off wrap,

stuffed in plastics killer sack.

An offering up of deadly crap

to fill a void that can't grow back.

The joy of peace in frugal life,

of roots in earth as rich as Kings.

Reward born...

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For my Father

In dreams my father is with me.

He lives in his nightmare wide awake.

In dreams my legs buckle.

He falls in his nightmare.

I see him, we cannot speak,

his frail hands outstretched to his child.

His hanging mouth a cave

with all his life inside, forgotten.

Asleep in his bed like amber in linen,

withered by time and ages rot.

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Larkin lived on Dixon Drive

now he's still dead

and I'm alive.

He stacked books

with referenced spine

and trousered coin,

paid in fine.

I lived just off Ethel Road

half a man

but full-on toad.

Crushed into my loutish form

dull schooling

shaped me

to this norm.

Phil moved on,

to Queens and hope

with less despair

and longer rope.

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Tree

of joy,

of pagan

rite, reaching out

on this silent night

rain your spores that all may

know, seeds of hope take and grow,

to bloom in man’s infertile heart

where once love stuttered, it might restart.

I have succumbed to the temptation of a reverse nonet. I don't often take part in these exercises but in the spirit of celebration thought I might. Tha...

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All the poets of all the kings

with all their fine imaginings

have only ever offered up

the favoured flavour of their sup.

with words so lofty, full of grace

persuading of their given place,

that they alone could fill that space.

Emblazoned coin, gods chosen face.

While those of us with poets eyes

not blessed with pardons for our lies,

see through the c...

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Women cradled newborn babes veiled with a mothers blood,

their hands steady and assured.

Their love knew no jealous god, no book or holy ground,

their voices spoken not written.

Beaten and defiled by men borne by woman's pain,

men corrupted by instruction and fear.

Their bodies vessel's of nurture and hope, broken by hate,

bloodied fists against bare flesh.

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Wrapped in sky and heathered hills

caressed by briny horses wild,

so far from dark satanic mills

survives the empire's favoured child.

Once stripped and starved of tongue and god

its people slaved and banished cold,

crofts and mànas razed to sod

that none who dwelled there might grow old.

But land in time calls back its own

disgorging tyrants, killing king...

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He has taken things from children

and sometimes from the dead,

often both at once

yet not a word was said.

He has broken imposed curfews

commandments and the law,

in many different countries

protected by a war.

He has spoken of sedition

incitement and of hate,

with words as ammunition

he's schemed to obfuscate.

He has dealt with kings and ...

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Ice puddles like lily pads

an archipelago of creeping freeze,

stepping stones of tears perhaps

shed by autumns grieving trees...

then captured in the frozen glare

of sunlight’s first defiant rays,

they'll fade as if were never there

to herald in such hopeful days.

So many things unseen by men

the simple and the subtle change,

that slip through time like...

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I see them in forgotten towns

men in pairs and burdened mums,

nowhere stares with heads bowed down

"Something broken this way comes"

In carless forecourts of bleak hotels

where fag butts rot and litter blows,

cruel deals are done that no one tells...

We turn our heads so no one knows.

While in the dens of whispered spite

be-trolleyed locals sneer and scoff...

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Though there are wars we cannot see

their wounds and scars leave history

some is carved in marbled stone

the names of those beloved and known...

and some is seared to flesh and mind

unknown to those we left behind

who waved us off and served us well

and in their waiting shared our hell

Video and Audio available at link below

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Flesh is commodity

guns universal

uniforms reversable

flags incontrovertible

Kimchi for Borscht

tank for a horse

fodder for force

mutual of course

Bodies for bags

medals perhaps

dictators relapse

generational gaps

Star for a Sickle

water for trickle

allegiance for fickle

too much for so Little

Blood for the soil

dollars fo...

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The Jag is in the driveway

behind the iron gates,

the home was christened "My-Way"

(he who loses hesitates)

All the frills are garish

from The Pillars to The Pool,

the gothic-faux nightmarish

its rendition most uncool.

The topiary is phallic

it's freudiently flawed,

the colour palette so manic

passing psychopaths applaud.

A bronze eagle guard...

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Their branches proud above the town

like men in rank, their feet in mud,

skyward facing they can't look down

their roots fixed in this land of blood.

And onward, over fields and seas

men wrenched their hearts too far from home,

mere saplings who would not make trees

but from whose seed a nation's grown.

Across the green, the cenotaph

its lonely stone, rain...

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Where might you be?

not on some lazy Isle sun-kissed and loved.

In rain-soaked streets beneath epileptic light?

are you where you thought you'd be...

are you un-anchored from your dreams?

passed through their veil of comfort...

real worlds are the sum of all our disappointment

their dark corners offer no redemption.

Is it just the night that brings you s...

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Not much, but at least a place to die.

The faux heroics of killers obliterates their victims...

languishing, chained to the memories of those who wait.

Ignored in gleaming streets or broken in the ruins.

Automatons of death find them; their eyes show all to all.

A news clip, a gif, an empty revenge on waste.

Old men dine in celebration, "Manna and Halva f...

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Does Winter come upon an hour

to crush the bloom of autumn flower,

to take the silken petalled ball

before its fading beauty falls.

Or does it come with malcontent

in crueller winds that won't relent,

to drive it hard without reprieve

so all that lived before must leave.

And we who watch those come and go

just like the seasons cannot know,

when turns ou...

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                     i

Millenia before divisions birth

sands shifted unconstrained,

seas un-parted caressed the earth,

no sacred path by men ordained.

                   ii

Lands unfolding, gods and kings

psalms and gospels, crescent and cross.

Twelve tribes rising, desert springs,

prophesying wealth and loss.

Borders burnin...

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The wreckage on the ocean floor

lies deep,

the treasure that it went there for

its murky world will keep...

as are the souls and truths

of those who dare to seek,

beyond the veiled lies of proof

too many others speak.

Above, the shallow sunbathers

bask in filtered light,

welcoming malignancy

they revel in The Blight...

they'll all go down t...

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To live in the shadow of one's self

is to never see new light,

reliance upon historic wealth

is the Kingdom of the trite.

To tread unknowing steered by will

is to chance new worlds to see,

the path of men should not be still

that all of man be free.

Audio and Video available at link below

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The Orange Groves in salty air

stand proudly, squat toward the Sea

the cultured roots that hold them there

unseen beneath each nurtured tree.

The blossomed fruit pristine with dew

raised up through rock, held firm by soil,

is testament to life anew

and those who gave with blood and toil.

Though the sky will fall and burn

and some may cling to cleft and sha...

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To speak of treachery one should know

that those betrayed

sometimes do sow...

the seed that takes to fertile soil,

polluting blooms

for future spoil.

The revelation of the fact

by gloating fools

unveils their act...

that they unknowing of their fate

expose their woven web

of hate.

Audio and Video available at link below

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Men, entrenched like ancient trees

whose branches mock their roots,

their trunks engorged with gnarled disease...

embittering their fruits.

The axe gleams brightly in The Sun

beyond the shaded edge,

where with one swing its work begun

it fells their broken pledge.

To cut and clear the rot away

of stock that's grown too long,

where green shoots feel the ...

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His fists to her were love,
bouquet’d bruises in velvet glove.
Her tears like salted diamonds fell
shaped from pain she’d never tell...

her children, not of hope but fear
their ransom all that held her here,
though if she ever could she would
renege her tortured motherhood.

She pictured home as was before
unbent, unbroke behind her door.
The hurt, she fashioned into ca...

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The morning mist conceals the birds,

yet still their lilting song

is heard.

I lay a while beneath my shroud

listening to the

warbling cloud.

The coffee cup drains itself

while topping up my

fickle health.

From radio's reluctant news

blooms yesterday's

emerging bruise...

to spread its spill like rancid oil

toward the day

as if to sp...

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Words emerged from alphabets

born of tongues the world forgets,

hieroglyphics from a wall

their echo sent to teach us all.

The documented "Rites of Spring"

the histories that they danced within,

so frantic that they lost all breath

their language spoke itself to death.

Yet here we stand at Babel’s Gate,

tongues still tied, is it too late?

to learn from...

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