When with Horror We Defend

All Humanity We Offend

And The Blood Upon Our Hands

is The Blood of All Our Lands

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It stands there

so bloody sure of itself

Half full

and me all empty

The fridge hums

hell freezes over

It's three in the afternoon

I wither-so-soon

The top spins

and the Ice cracks

The Glacier recedes

and the flood comes back

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There's a young voice moving across still water

the wake from the boat is slapping the bank

Workers in the fields stop to listen

sitting on their baskets as the voice drifts to silence

Songbirds fill the vacant air

Following or replacing responding or remaining?

The voice will return the workers will leave

Songbirds will fill the silent space, no-one will h...

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The Body is the property of The State

in a cold room

in a draw

The owner is the property of no-one

disappeared

yet still here

The drag marks in the snow

are covered

and will go

Arrogance wears a suit and smile

but only for

a little while

Flowers strewn, arrests are made

blooms in the gutter

A Fascist parade

The State is the...

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On the elevated section of the written highway a driver might look down to see the next line cruising beneath the pen. My advice would be to let it pass or brake hard. If you see or sense something coming the chances are so will others.

The corridors were telescopic. In one direction narrowing, in the other opening out into broad Cathedral like chambers. The narrow field enticed with...

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Daffodils puked lava trails

Where sunlit spears melted nails,

Wanderings no more alone

Lonely clouds remained at home.

Poets of Apocalypse swapped

honeydew for pints of piss,

their easy silence spread infection

neutralised for mass protection.

Truth was not a casualty

its absence served to set them free,

to write of what was truly seen

might have sav...

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The Sun frames the curtain

At the edge of the day

Its offering uncertain

In the usual way...

But the window was blown

From the space it revealed

and what once was unknown

is no longer concealed

The woken are reeling

from the light they have seen

their frayed edges feeling

their numbed senses keen

The Moonlight is haunting

at the end of the...

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Stoic roots beneath the soil

see not the blooms of selfless toil.

Open hearts unbound of angst

know not of those deserving thanks.

Entombed or free in worlds apart

extremes are where our journey's start.

Yet, cast between polarities

the only bones we know are these.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSxZ1KWFSM4

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I live

Therefore, I'm hypocrite

My conception

Meant rejection,

I consume,

I take up room

I opine,

The way is mine

I sympathise,

with selective eyes

I defend,

to my own end

I postulate,

My own debate

I'll die,

but it will be too late

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Grandad had been a well-known bloke

In and out The City Pubs

Solid, in a short-arsed frame

Braces, Boots and White Starched Cuffs.

I knew him after he'd found God

put down The Pint, picked up The Hod

My Uncle, he brought Jesus back

From Berlin, Imagine that.

Granny, had a chequered past

her lineage marred by factual gaps,

Just how the two became my bloo...

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The Sniper died at home

clutching his stuttering chest,

the wind was westerly

his vision not the best.

Used to be he'd slow the beat

tunnel down his broader view,

the crosshairs steady, resting neat

then squeeze the trigger gently through.

He clawed and grabbed his ragged dog

no words escaped his gaping mouth,

her paws still clogged with peaty bog

th...

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In a curly burrow

of branches, leaves and soil,

she noses through her furrow

a channelled tube of toil.

Of prickled spine and twitching snout

a miner seldom seen,

she nestles low when we're about

to hide where she has been.

She'll take the worm or tumbled egg

her furtive hunt is opportune,

too secretive to bravely beg

she shuns the Sun and favours ...

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Unfortunately I accidentaly deleted this earlier. My apologies to those I was conversing with on it. My thanks to those who commented and liked previously and apologies for it taking up a new position on recent postings.

What's a town without a Bookshop?

With its

Pubs

Its Churches,

One Stop

Mental Health

Shop.

Its Hotel’d refugees,

Its Iceland

Buy...

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