So many lives, so many hopes and dreams,
They all finish loaded on the scrapheap,
Piled high into one moist organic hump,
Where, some decades later, the needy poor
Will hollow out hovels to dodge the cold,
And some bright spark will soon call it recycling
And trumpet this sham as sustainable.
Then celebrities will come, and sleep out,
In self-pleasuring solidarity,
Wednesday 14th December 2022 9:59 pm
Like tiny ants we scurry
Between skyscrapers of grass,
Peeping about - a human worker class.
Watching ourselves surpassing all limits,
Creators of structures, cultures, unimaginable wonders.
Finding God thriving within us.
Do we think the ant knows of it’s impending mortality?
Knows it’s destined to a life of sheer ephemerality?
Or knows it’s intricate c...
Tuesday 23rd August 2022 1:17 am
3 years ago, I viewed frogs as aliens
Now I wonder whether they’re angels
Months ago, I hated the sound of songbirds
Now I write their songs
I tweet along
Everything I did, I did do
It still was
Even if it no longer is
Whatever I am
I still am what I was
Even if I no longer am
I was right and now I’m left
But the person I was hasn...
Tuesday 1st February 2022 11:42 am