No-one's happy with their life.
Someone, somewhere, was telling you stories.
If you are lucky, you'll do alright.
If you are lucky.
There's a way to be.
There's a way to cope.
Where's the God that's supposed to help us?
Where's the love that's meant to guide us?
Where's the hope?
No-one's meant to have it easy.
Someone, somewhere, must have been crazy!
Friday 21st May 2021 2:52 am
The Celtic Spring begins today, so Happy Imbolc.
on a ceramic head
by Paula Zimmermann
I know that you must be there,
although at first I cannot see;
your martyrdom, daily,
amidst brick, steel, and glass
goes almost un-noticed
and has made us blind.
We have all but buried you.
But then I find ...
Monday 1st February 2021 6:13 pm
The Raising Of The Trickster
When the western sky turns slowly into the colour of an old bruise
And the last orange streaks of daylight bleed from the setting sun
A cold white vapour swirls through the fields of corn its fingers prising apart the stalks
As the lands of Albion darken and strange noises start to crawl from the mist.
At the edge of the fields there sprawls a ...
Monday 14th December 2020 4:47 pm
Here in the verdant meadows
All on a summer’s day
The dreaded army of the dark
Met with the noble fey
They fought until the long sundown
And the lost blood of the dead
Soaked into the sacred ground
And turned the roses red
When the fight was over
And the legion of the flies
Had swarmed across the corpses
Stealing hope from sightless eyes
Thursday 22nd October 2020 11:05 am
We sit and watch the world go by
On fences long and oak trees high
The waxing moon the setting sun
We are the crows of Albion
We chronicle the human ways
Their restless nights and confused days
Mother, daughter, father, son
We are the crows of Albion
Our stories written down in books
Guarded well by crows and rooks
And no one knows what we ...
Sunday 18th October 2020 6:33 pm
Beneath the ancient gallows tree
There sits an old apothecary
Where deep within its ancient rooms
Resides an old man selling ‘shrooms
That he has harvested from soil
Of graveyards where the serpents coil
And if the ache screams in your joints
Just follow where the way-marker points.
The place smells of dust and moist mildew
And the foul dark liqui...
Tuesday 6th October 2020 11:36 am
The Mandrake Curse
I spied the purple mandrake flowers
Sitting in their nest of green
And foolishly looked to rip them
From the earth they serenely sat upon
And everywhere a shriek echoed
Across the woods and leafy vales
and to my weary eyes I saw
The bulbous body resurrected
A face demonic in its glare
For being torn from fitful slumber
Wizened arms of k...
Saturday 11th April 2020 2:47 pm
I know I traded something
A part of me
For the splendid splendour of money
I did that thing you shouldn’t do
I gave myself to him
You know, the soul
Cut a piece of myself out for him
You know, the heart
I cut a piece of myself off for him
(You know which part)
But I didn't feel a thing
I'm waiting to miss it
I'm waiting for the pain
Monday 3rd February 2020 1:43 pm
effective myth, metaphor, & mysticism transcend
semantic efforts to articulate dynamics erupting
dreamlike amidst more trusted, linear conceptions
of reality, imagination, experience, & being
by presenting arrangements so engaging, uncannily
familiar, irreducibly insightful, idealogically slippery,
that the foamsplash suddenness of its crashing
across a previously unnotic...
Thursday 17th October 2019 1:52 pm
As I leave my home behind
To walk the far farm fields
The spirit of the land enfolds me
Its silence becomes my mantle
While I alone hear
Those wafted word
As the wind caresses the treetops
To lure me on
Through woodland and moor
Beyond fences, ever deeper into a land
Clothed in swirls of radiant mist
Rising from plashy pools and tarns
Tuesday 17th April 2018 2:32 pm
Not the cross or the thorns
or the blood or the nails,
not the spear or the whip
or the rumble of stones
from the mouth of a tomb.
Not the hatred and bigotry,
the small minded hypocrisy
of this clan or that clan
whose father is biggest
or most feared or cherished.
Not the myth and the fable
espoused by blind acolytes
heaven bent on venge...
Saturday 31st March 2018 2:53 pm
Like grains of rice, her love it grows;
Forms a crown from lush meadows.
Beneath their skulls with blooming fields,
Dandelions caress skin, living shields.
Arrays of light pour onto ivory,
Little, brown connect-the-dots scatter accordingly.
With envy in their eyes, the fairies hover,
Frowning between one another;
Wondering how they lost their glen
To a pair of human...
Tuesday 14th March 2017 5:07 am
Dockery Plantation Blues
In a Mississippi graveyard,
as the midnight hour crawls,
sits a young boy and his guitar
wailing tunes at the moon.
He prays his fingers faster
as they dance across the frets,
weeping at his inability
to speak in tongues from the strings.
He is lost in a fugue
of chaotic chords and strumming,
as the Delta Blues pour muddy,
like the churning brown river,
Thursday 26th March 2015 7:48 pm
A Tree In The Elephant’s Graveyard
It began with a pen
beneath a tree.
upon a rat
to rest awhile.
The paper was white
and stared at me
The pen hovered,
around My neck.
I thought of stars
of gouache landscapes.
Still the paper
fuck the pen.
Monday 17th November 2014 8:13 pm
Twisted Maleficarum turned abomination
desperately seeking a return to one's humanity.
pumping passion like the blood that summoned them.
Bleeding tears, sweating fears
soaked in trepidation.
Summon some feeling
no time for healing
when paint is just pain with
twin pronged brush strokes.
Tattered, trying, tonal
Tuesday 10th January 2012 6:11 pm