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no power defeats the Circle

entry picture

Like warm spring rain the darke bloode flows.
Like autunm leaves bilious leathery skin dries and falls.
All thought abandoned
as imagination crawls
slow, heavy, dull, relentless
like the shadowes on the walls.
Time drags slow
emotionless yet tense
in the infernal demonic night;
it pulls with sinous and wiry strength
drips of melting wax from the candles' dying light.
Tearing at their screaming blinded eyes
u...

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circleQliphothtime

I Aim

I Aim

 

I aim to be as true to all 

As I have learnt from being small

Tell it like I see it when I'm clear

Zip my mouth if I'm not my dear

 

Now as time rolls on I find I still

Have a very strong unbending will

None too shy to state my case

Toe to toe, face to face

 

Tempering the above with concern

For others views where I may learn

More about this world ...

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AgeingLifetimewill

Simply Time

Simply Time

 

With Crystal Ball, I might have found

Some way to weave my way through time

Instead, I played without the rules

Did it my way throughout the schools

Meandered free from guides or maps

Ate my meals from plates on laps

Camped and rambled, cycled too

My only aim - my love for you

 

Single till I sang your song

Wed while we were still so youn...

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childrenillnessLifeLosssorrowtime

Last stop before paradise.

entry picture

Last stop before paradise.                                                                              

 

An April rain has streaked the windows, smudging the view of suburban streets.

The chill breeze bends the spring’s first flowers and the TV’s showing old repeats.

In the lounge of The Willows nursing home the care assistants are serving teas.

After the adverts comes the snooker and ever...

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ageboredomdeathelderlyoldtime

Two poems for lost love

 

A hearty breakfast



We take our coffee black these days,
Saccharined and sugar free.
Our milk of human kindness soured
To curds and whey, to you and me.
And over silent breakfasts sit.
Where headline barricades rise up.
We shed no tears for what was spilled,
When lips once kissed our loving cup.
Our toast is dry and always burned,
The marmalade, now bitter peel
And all we’ve left is crusts and...

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losslovesorrowtime

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