Shiver to the ground
Last day’s horrors have kissed you
Breathing will end soon
Wednesday 31 July 2019
Monday 29 July 2019
Sunday 28 July 2019
Saturday 27 July 2019
Tuesday 23 July 2019
Monday 22 July 2019
Thinking In The Breeze
Have you ever had time enough to just sit back and watch, wondering whether the blood will clot or not?
Saturday 20 July 2019
The Unpleasant Truth
Suicide cannot be prevented. The best that you can do is to alleviate the desire to commit it.
Friday 19 July 2019
Sunday 14 July 2019
Hell Horde
Acres abound,
The hammer’s at hand,
Who has the war-horn?
Who has the plan?
Where is the foe to
Receive our pain?
The vast, shaggy, masses
Born to be slain?
Were we woken too
Early, afore Destiny’s
War?
Or woken too late for
Gold, glory and gore?
Answer my questions
With that mouth of
Yours,
Or I’ll carve you another
Where there
Was none before!
We are the Hell Horde
And you called us forth.
Now pay up your ransom
Else your earth we will scorch!
Rape babies and women
Then put all to the torch!
Not even your memory
Is proof against flame,
We’ll even burn Time
To erase your stupidity
And bury your shame!
Firmly Adrift
Raise the sail and nail
It to the boom, now stoop
And with the toughest twine
Bind the boom and affix the
Rudder hard over so but
In circles shall thy craft
Drive its draft, for what’s
A life that lacks its due
Of swells? Seek no
More for your cast off
Shore and sink within
Your spinning ship with
A future secure as the
Past with promise was
Perpetually poor.
Swells
Caterwauls and
Catamarans,
Banshees and
A boat.
Sailors don’t die
By surprise.
Their demise is
Preceded by
Portents, signs
In the sea and sky.
The Norns snip to
A beat only seamen
Hear, syncopated
Dances of doom
Choreographed to
The flailing of limbs,
Three marks below
The bar and foam,
As alone they limbo
To Limbo and beyond.
The Locker awaits
With all one needs
On Fiddler’s Green,
Those knickknacks
You would otherwise
Miss for eternity.
The Vale of Unveiling
As winds the stream
So wends the trail.
Near dawn, damp with fog,
Mists prismatic toss
Multihued tinsel o’er
The uncertain Sun.
Morning magic’s turn
As Night settles in
For its daily dreaming
And I’m faced with
A new view of waking
Fields, shaking off their
Misty beards to greet
Another naked day.
Dawn wanderer, I,
Traversing paths my
Fathers first blazed
In the time before mine.
I seek to meet
The totems of
Their souls, set as
Spirit markers that
Must be harkened to.
This journey is mine
Own, alone to catch
The clues and omens
I shall require to
Surely scry my way
From trail to sky
With my visions etched
By eyes three inside
My mind, and so done,
At the meet and
Proper time, from
This vale shall I
Climb, to lay all bare
Before the gaze of
RA, unafraid of
Honest judgment.
If I’m deemed whole
Then I’m holy for
This day, leaving naught
To do, until the morrow
When I’ll cleanse
Myself anew.
Saturday 13 July 2019
Dreamt of a Memory
Lost in thought when
Of a sudden my
Breath caught, snagged
On a memory.
In hills high, a circle
Of my fiercest friends:
Was my warmth born
From the flaming
Hearth or from the
Burning hearts
Encircling me?
Outside, the snow in
Silence fell but
Inside I was
Insulated by the
Wheel of love in
Which I was
Warmly held.
Thursday 11 July 2019
Monday 8 July 2019
Death By Misadventure
Stroll the fields but
Stay in the shade and
Keep looking down until
You’ve found your lucky
Clover or its clone.
Count the petals: four
Taste the petals: bittersweet
Rather tasty, truth to tell
Though no vixen ever will
Eat of it for they
Know its smell and
Its allure but are you
Sure that it’s clover?
Mayhap ‘tis but clever?
Know this: give in to
Its invitation to feed
And your toe-tag’ll read:
“Probably stopped to
Catch their breath but
They also caught a
Cardiac arrest.”
Friday 5 July 2019
Thursday 4 July 2019
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