The bones of Christmas, ragged torn,

carved, discarded, bin-bound waste.

In the farmyard cruelly born

raised for purpose, culled in haste.

The ribboned knot of cast-off wrap,

stuffed in plastics killer sack.

An offering up of deadly crap

to fill a void that can't grow back.

The joy of peace in frugal life,

of roots in earth as rich as Kings.

Reward born...

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For my Father

In dreams my father is with me.

He lives in his nightmare wide awake.

In dreams my legs buckle.

He falls in his nightmare.

I see him, we cannot speak,

his frail hands outstretched to his child.

His hanging mouth a cave

with all his life inside, forgotten.

Asleep in his bed like amber in linen,

withered by time and ages rot.

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Larkin lived on Dixon Drive

now he's still dead

and I'm alive.

He stacked books

with referenced spine

and trousered coin,

paid in fine.

I lived just off Ethel Road

half a man

but full-on toad.

Crushed into my loutish form

dull schooling

shaped me

to this norm.

Phil moved on,

to Queens and hope

with less despair

and longer rope.

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Tree

of joy,

of pagan

rite, reaching out

on this silent night

rain your spores that all may

know, seeds of hope take and grow,

to bloom in man’s infertile heart

where once love stuttered, it might restart.

I have succumbed to the temptation of a reverse nonet. I don't often take part in these exercises but in the spirit of celebration thought I might. Tha...

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All the poets of all the kings

with all their fine imaginings

have only ever offered up

the favoured flavour of their sup.

with words so lofty, full of grace

persuading of their given place,

that they alone could fill that space.

Emblazoned coin, gods chosen face.

While those of us with poets eyes

not blessed with pardons for our lies,

see through the c...

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Women cradled newborn babes veiled with a mothers blood,

their hands steady and assured.

Their love knew no jealous god, no book or holy ground,

their voices spoken not written.

Beaten and defiled by men borne by woman's pain,

men corrupted by instruction and fear.

Their bodies vessel's of nurture and hope, broken by hate,

bloodied fists against bare flesh.

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Wrapped in sky and heathered hills

caressed by briny horses wild,

so far from dark satanic mills

survives the empire's favoured child.

Once stripped and starved of tongue and god

its people slaved and banished cold,

crofts and mànas razed to sod

that none who dwelled there might grow old.

But land in time calls back its own

disgorging tyrants, killing king...

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He has taken things from children

and sometimes from the dead,

often both at once

yet not a word was said.

He has broken imposed curfews

commandments and the law,

in many different countries

protected by a war.

He has spoken of sedition

incitement and of hate,

with words as ammunition

he's schemed to obfuscate.

He has dealt with kings and ...

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Ice puddles like lily pads

an archipelago of creeping freeze,

stepping stones of tears perhaps

shed by autumns grieving trees...

then captured in the frozen glare

of sunlight’s first defiant rays,

they'll fade as if were never there

to herald in such hopeful days.

So many things unseen by men

the simple and the subtle change,

that slip through time like...

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I see them in forgotten towns

men in pairs and burdened mums,

nowhere stares with heads bowed down

"Something broken this way comes"

In carless forecourts of bleak hotels

where fag butts rot and litter blows,

cruel deals are done that no one tells...

We turn our heads so no one knows.

While in the dens of whispered spite

be-trolleyed locals sneer and scoff...

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Though there are wars we cannot see

their wounds and scars leave history

some is carved in marbled stone

the names of those beloved and known...

and some is seared to flesh and mind

unknown to those we left behind

who waved us off and served us well

and in their waiting shared our hell

Video and Audio available at link below

https://wolfgarwords.com/...

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Flesh is commodity

guns universal

uniforms reversable

flags incontrovertible

Kimchi for Borscht

tank for a horse

fodder for force

mutual of course

Bodies for bags

medals perhaps

dictators relapse

generational gaps

Star for a Sickle

water for trickle

allegiance for fickle

too much for so Little

Blood for the soil

dollars fo...

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The Jag is in the driveway

behind the iron gates,

the home was christened "My-Way"

(he who loses hesitates)

All the frills are garish

from The Pillars to The Pool,

the gothic-faux nightmarish

its rendition most uncool.

The topiary is phallic

it's freudiently flawed,

the colour palette so manic

passing psychopaths applaud.

A bronze eagle guard...

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Their branches proud above the town

like men in rank, their feet in mud,

skyward facing they can't look down

their roots fixed in this land of blood.

And onward, over fields and seas

men wrenched their hearts too far from home,

mere saplings who would not make trees

but from whose seed a nation's grown.

Across the green, the cenotaph

its lonely stone, rain...

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Where might you be?

not on some lazy Isle sun-kissed and loved.

In rain-soaked streets beneath epileptic light?

are you where you thought you'd be...

are you un-anchored from your dreams?

passed through their veil of comfort...

real worlds are the sum of all our disappointment

their dark corners offer no redemption.

Is it just the night that brings you s...

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Not much, but at least a place to die.

The faux heroics of killers obliterates their victims...

languishing, chained to the memories of those who wait.

Ignored in gleaming streets or broken in the ruins.

Automatons of death find them; their eyes show all to all.

A news clip, a gif, an empty revenge on waste.

Old men dine in celebration, "Manna and Halva f...

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Does Winter come upon an hour

to crush the bloom of autumn flower,

to take the silken petalled ball

before its fading beauty falls.

Or does it come with malcontent

in crueller winds that won't relent,

to drive it hard without reprieve

so all that lived before must leave.

And we who watch those come and go

just like the seasons cannot know,

when turns ou...

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                     i

Millenia before divisions birth

sands shifted unconstrained,

seas un-parted caressed the earth,

no sacred path by men ordained.

                   ii

Lands unfolding, gods and kings

psalms and gospels, crescent and cross.

Twelve tribes rising, desert springs,

prophesying wealth and loss.

Borders burnin...

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The wreckage on the ocean floor

lies deep,

the treasure that it went there for

its murky world will keep...

as are the souls and truths

of those who dare to seek,

beyond the veiled lies of proof

too many others speak.

Above, the shallow sunbathers

bask in filtered light,

welcoming malignancy

they revel in The Blight...

they'll all go down t...

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To live in the shadow of one's self

is to never see new light,

reliance upon historic wealth

is the Kingdom of the trite.

To tread unknowing steered by will

is to chance new worlds to see,

the path of men should not be still

that all of man be free.

Audio and Video available at link below

https://wolfgarwords.com/2024/10/02/a-prison-is-the-past/

https:/...

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The Orange Groves in salty air

stand proudly, squat toward the Sea

the cultured roots that hold them there

unseen beneath each nurtured tree.

The blossomed fruit pristine with dew

raised up through rock, held firm by soil,

is testament to life anew

and those who gave with blood and toil.

Though the sky will fall and burn

and some may cling to cleft and sha...

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To speak of treachery one should know

that those betrayed

sometimes do sow...

the seed that takes to fertile soil,

polluting blooms

for future spoil.

The revelation of the fact

by gloating fools

unveils their act...

that they unknowing of their fate

expose their woven web

of hate.

Audio and Video available at link below

https://wolfg...

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Men, entrenched like ancient trees

whose branches mock their roots,

their trunks engorged with gnarled disease...

embittering their fruits.

The axe gleams brightly in The Sun

beyond the shaded edge,

where with one swing its work begun

it fells their broken pledge.

To cut and clear the rot away

of stock that's grown too long,

where green shoots feel the ...

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His fists to her were love,
bouquet’d bruises in velvet glove.
Her tears like salted diamonds fell
shaped from pain she’d never tell...

her children, not of hope but fear
their ransom all that held her here,
though if she ever could she would
renege her tortured motherhood.

She pictured home as was before
unbent, unbroke behind her door.
The hurt, she fashioned into ca...

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The morning mist conceals the birds,

yet still their lilting song

is heard.

I lay a while beneath my shroud

listening to the

warbling cloud.

The coffee cup drains itself

while topping up my

fickle health.

From radio's reluctant news

blooms yesterday's

emerging bruise...

to spread its spill like rancid oil

toward the day

as if to sp...

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Words emerged from alphabets

born of tongues the world forgets,

hieroglyphics from a wall

their echo sent to teach us all.

The documented "Rites of Spring"

the histories that they danced within,

so frantic that they lost all breath

their language spoke itself to death.

Yet here we stand at Babel’s Gate,

tongues still tied, is it too late?

to learn from...

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The bus is double decked for fear

that those below might come too near,

and break the spell of motions peace

where trials and tribulations cease.

I float above the addled Streets

on clouds of ruined ragged seats,

I see the penned in office slaves

computer screens, like headstoned graves...

Traversing through this fashioned feast

I'm swallowed by some other...

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In the pit of me

my own epitome,

within which lies

the wasted grit of me.

From pearl to sand

the sea made land,

washed up and used

a gift abused.

The clam prised wide,

hollow inside,

pearlescent sheen

of what had been.

The jagged edge

remains to tell,

that trusted pledge

can be but shell.

Audio and Video available at link be...

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Four Stations,

stumbling steps,

inspiration,

life’s precepts.

The hand of peace,

a step toward,

that distance cease

with loves reward.

Four Stations,

walking tall,

realisation,

breaks our fall.

Through perilous night

our journey’s wind,

yet we shed light

when we are kind.

There are numerous accounts of "The Stations of T...

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Dreams slither away from me.

Beneath sheets of layered retreat

they rise as conjured wishes,

then fall like chances lost.

Memory seeks what eyes can't see.

Invented glories the lies of conceit

history revised where hits were misses,

the balance outstanding, no matter the cost.

Video and Audio at link below

https://wolfgarwords.com/2024/09/06/deficit/

...

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Sometimes like a cat poetry refuses to leave the tree,

we know it isn't truly stuck, it's up there being free.

Among the leaves and branches with jumbled words and winds

that make no sense to anyone unless the songbird sings...

sometimes soft and sometimes shrill it wisps the flailing breeze

to lift and craft within its will a moment sent to please.

All things of form h...

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Not to be or R2P,

So what's the Dilemma?

when doing right

makes economies tremor.

When "Never Again"

is reasoned away,

no matter to those

who don't have a say.

The panga and bomb

the fist and the gun,

reign over a song

too often heard sung.

The pen and the suit

the fine things of State,

the willing recruit

to The Profits of Hate.

...

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It is deep inside

at the back of the cave

where warmth never reaches

where the lick of the flame

is extinguished

by shadow

Something invisible

guards the black hollow

where eyes lose light

like a brain

behind thin skull

its fragile brilliance cowers and coils

It waits

for the unwitting word

that carelessly encroaches

with wickedness and ...

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The silhouetted beasts and signs

like cave art

in these darkening times

Overnight they herd in scrawl

to gather

on our city walls

Their short-lived lives fade too quick

they die

though they were never sick

What trace might last when we are gone

when no walls stand

to carve upon?

Video and Audio at link below

https://wolfgarwords.com/...

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The Sunshine of My Life

was

cancer neath the Surgeon’s Knife

The Calm that Lulled My Restless Mind

was

storm cloud of some Other Kind

The Pennies on My Shuttered Eyes

are

answers to My Living Whys

The Tears that Fall When I am Gone

will

not absolve me of My Wrong

The Words I've Penned with Flippant Hand

will

shift and drift like Wo...

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When I was young and only knew

of love as pure as morning dew,

I fixed upon a Scottish sky

with clear untainted childish eye...

and wondered what might lie beyond

to hold my heart and mind so fond,

that I could leave such sheltered home

and without want so idly roam.

Now I am old I've come to know

of love that stays wherever I go,

that see's beyond t...

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I am of fighting age

though all I've ever done is run

They put me in this cushioned cage

and tarred me with what others done

I'm the apple of my father’s eye

though here I'm stranger fruit

They say that we should leave or die

although they say their Police don't shoot

I am a child alone and scared

though women here have sheltered me

They ...

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Farhad fucked his Brothers wife

and with that act also his life.

He ran at first to Gulbahar

though Gulbahar was not so far...

from where a pledge of bond was made

that honour with their lives be paid,

by those who with their blood were bound

and shared with him dishonoured ground.

Wawrina burdened by her fate

succumbed to rocks at Jahannam's gate.

His ...

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Kransky took one in the head

his smile blown from his face,

the olive grove now green and red

Hail, Mary, full of grace.

The Warrior Poets pitch their pens

from Gijon, west to Alcazar,

convictions morphed from remember when's

"El Corazon's" know who they are

The heart and head are in the fight

torn between what gives them life,

The darkness of the comin...

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England now is stretched too thin

twixt

Birdsong and where throng begin

The thicket and the wooded edge

retreat

as does the honoured pledge

Now where two worlds existed clear

jaded

shades of life appear

Diminished of their rich appeal

devoured

by destructive zeal

Each precious field each sacred stone

buried

like a flesh stripped b...

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My grandfather was a paedophile

but otherwise he was great,

always there to meet me

at the school yard gate.

He often seemed distracted

I never quite new why,

he had a funny look

in his evil little eye.

He killed my cat one Christmas

I never could forgive,

So I vowed myself to vengeance

that he should cease to live.

He wallowed in his cancer

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The Farnborough Airshow is much more than that. It is one of the countries largest Arms Fairs. The deals are made beyond the public gaze, the corporate days outnumber the public days. This poem relates to the masquerade that is The Farnborough Air Show and Murder Incorporated.

Women, Children, Ice cream, Balloons,

excitement, enticement, sonic booms...

Shattered Stree...

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All along the railed paths from Regents Park to Notting Hill,

we feel the gaze of those long passed whose sightless eyes are on us

Still.

Through the Parks of Royal note St James up to Marble Arch,

we tread the lawns as lowly folk and take our pause as Soldiers

March. 

Beneath broad streets unpaved of gold from Camden Town to Bethnal Green,

we transi...

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Caterpillar on a stone beach wall

its concertinaed wavy crawl,

did hypnotised a boy so small

that breeze snuffed out his Mothers call.

Another hand had taken his

as in the jar the insect sits,

two tiny lives broke into bits

as Seagulls screeched the ages tripped.

Caterpillar on a stone beach wall

that never found its wings at all,

but like the child was...

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Words were once no more than shapes

like humans formed from lowly apes,

who dragged their violent knuckles down

yet rose to Coronate a Crown.

Beneath such weight the mind succumbs

with pummelling fists its reason numbed,

from apes to men cruel jungles rise

to build fine cages full of lies...

bejewelled and vast with gold adorned

the "Uneasy Head" lies sev...

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Words fall into dreams like waterfalls

at precipice, where flat earth fools

congregate in village halls

and ponder how to subvert schools

with grappling hooks cross playground walls.

It's just a dream with raining words

no sense required in slumbered peace,

in forests where trees fall unheard

and kingdoms end yet never cease...

a rainbow'd storm of tumbling wo...

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The house stands quiet behind its useless walls,

as if a wedding cake cut but not devoured.

Discarded tools and children’s toys, the crumbs of life.

Inside, a stagnant calm of dust breathes for no-one.

Patches of earth curled with weeds.

The scratchings of beasts consumed by men

score the kill pen floor. Men who ate with fingers

greased with blood and vengeful mind...

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It's a chair,

just a chair

on four legs

standing there.

Facing out,

turned away

been empty now

more than a day.

The cleaner

fumigates all trace,

of he who filled

its cushioned space.

As indentations

slowly fade,

the invoice settled

the debts all paid.

Will the trees outside

miss his stare

when someone else

sits in h...

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These eyes now laid on natures’ wings
have seen the sum of hateful things,
enough that English Winter Skies
as Pale as death cannot disguise

the salty sorrow in a tear,
intrusive nightmares ever near.
An empty voice shocked free from words
which when it speaks is never heard.

Yet by the River from the hide
I saw a bird and almost cried,
as through its feathered curtain shone
a ...

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Chalk and flint the Saintly path

that wends its tranquil peaceful way,

its steepled skies belie the wrath

that split the clouds on darker days.

The refuge of the oaken pew

the coolness of the sacred stone,

that drew the workers, poor and few

to ask they give all they had known.

With barley grain and nurtured lamb

on harvest thanks the faithful came,

as ...

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Buried in her wedding dress

the tomb a ruin now,

cracked open is what once was blessed

where dogs and vermin prowl.

On fertile steps of Grove and Vine

where boots so cruelly stamped,

once yours, now theirs’, that once was mine,

too many tribes encamped.

But hearts and minds don't document

with paper, pen and deed,

what's taken, forced, was never lent

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I hear the things that go unsaid

that slip between the words,

the spaces where you think perhaps

your silence goes unheard.

I hear the things your voice betrays

that crack when horror speaks,

the cough you make you think perhaps

belies you've dived too deep.

I see the things you can't relate

that dead look in your eye,

the moments when you think perhaps

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The backbone of this giving Isle

from marshy fen to firth of forth,

has soured the face of many a smile

beneath the crown that ventured north.

Then Westward too, the Kingdom torn

across a Wilding Sea,

its Children poor, to paupers born

that bore the likes of you and me.

With baubles traded, power for land

The Lords abused their folk the same,

to sit opp...

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I'm in the shallows now

the deep has stepped up to the shelf.

My feet firm in the silky sand

at the altar of this eroding land.

In the transition of silt and wash

a baptism of emergence plays-out.

The salty brine for peppered air,

where pollutants vie for surface share.

Where can I be cleansed

that I am not the host of dirt?

The Creator and The Parasit...

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Scratch at the night,

the irritation of darkness has you at its mercy.

Scratch At the night,

the visions are advancing down mirrored corridors.

The rash of the Sun will return

to flake its hours upon your open wounds.

The rash of the Sun will climb high

to pour your memories back into you...

Audio and Video attached at link below

https://wolfgar...

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A Sea Loch Graveyard walled and gated

hues of purple peated earth,

the stones stand stoic, weather dated,

washed up from their briny birth.

Some names unknown "A Sailor" lies,

in silence resting side by side.

Adrift they came from distant skies

as tears that fell, though never cried.

On other shores long lives lived out

to wonder at what might have been,

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To see a world in a coffee cup

and a hell inside a TV screen,

then still to rise and take a sup

and blink away the horror seen.

A memory flashed upon a mind

staunched by bitter pill,

to make a man and mankind blind

cannot the memory kill.

The slave fed by his master’s hand

is starved and saved the same,

he lives upon a lesser land

with no choice but ...

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Not on canvas but in frame

the eye and hand do make the day,

which with the Sun unbeckoned came

and at its want will fade away.

Between the rise and fall of light

in all that comes and all that goes,

a wealth of life befalls our sight

that none before could surely know.

And in that fragile frame of time

our brush strokes fill the fleeting page,

which wi...

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Their squalid death to purify,

on Olives Mount a bridge to God.

Then cedar wood and herbs burnt dry

to raise a Kingdom not forgot.

And in that ritualistic spell

the Kohen taints his cleansing soul,

that he is now unbound for hell

unless the cycle onward roll.

For future joy why all this death

where toil and dark abound?

Why not the warmth of living brea...

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I have attached a trilogy of my D-day poem readings for anyone who may wish to hear them drolled out in my dulcet tones.

There is minimal chatter but not so much that you might wish to slit your own wrists, hopefully.

https://wolfgarwords.com/2024/06/08/a-trilogy-of-d-day-poem-readings/

if that fails try here

https://www.facebook.com/628003684/videos/1274382196869039

Poetr...

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Borrow against your future days

that this moment ever lives,

for what such credit takes away

the joy of now forgives.

We cannot touch what has gone

nor conjure what's to come,

our memories may live on and on

what's lost might yet be won.

The silent harbour once a throng

with hope and fearful men,

sits peaceful now and has done long

for what was done ...

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My life force has gone

whatever confidence I had is crushed

I cannot hear my voice

I cannot hear any voice

except panic

and anger

I am lost in a street walking the wrong way

shoulders bumped and jarred

I move to the wall

I press hard against it

It pushes me into the flow

my fear turns to violence

There is no reason to lash out

no reason to h...

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These dunes have been draped with flesh,

some on summer days surrendering to lovers

some under the gun by blood brothers.

The days between then and now are in the sand,

each footprint, each drop of joy and blood still here.

Children rush the shoreline chased by foamy waves.

We built monuments and carved men’s names

where beautiful children share happy games.

Beyon...

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A soldier kicked down the door and stole a yelping dog,

the children sobbed while their mother cursed god.

Later the widows were blown out, the roof glowed red

against a ghostly bone white moon.

The dog curled itself to sleep beneath a different flag

after filling its belly for the first time in weeks.

This poem is based on an event I witnessed in the H2 area ...

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In a Spinney dark and cool

three pallets made a hide,

the pain endured at home & school

could never reach inside.

A buckled form bent and broke

grey face toward damp earth,

betrayed a tongue that rarely spoke

bitten hard since birth.

Of love there was no knowing

just thoughts of what might be,

within a hatred growing

as if a raging sea.

Becal...

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If words are important

surely, they are as important as the corpses

of the forgotten.

Words, like men are buried,

dismembered,

misremembered.

Corpses sometimes disinter

as if to scream

here is where we were.

Corpses are who we are,

they are the words we will become

Spoken with a dying tongue

Preserve our words as treasure

lest they ar...

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The cell wall didn't feel like her skin

the coming night held no mystery

Just the sound of clanking routines

to punctuate the misery of solitude

It was not like the battlefield

where he could satiate his emptiness

Long nights of nothing rescued by morning

when another kill would replenish his reason

Here the unwanted new day brought unlocking

fo...

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Truth sat upon her righteous cloud

drifting serenely unchallenged and proud

She felt so aloof up there on her roof

no need of trivial burdens of proof

But truth had forgot of the things she knew not

so many truths changed outside of her lot

The people below would point to the sky

shaking their heads as she drifted on by

In such rarefied air there wa...

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Words repel an Empty Page

A Robin flits The Tree,

Heaven quells Angelic Rage

and sets A Demon Free...

Omission and Commission

with or without thought,

are license to permission

when bent to please The Court...

To do or not to do is Dust

when in the balance weighed,

what's gone is gone and surely Just

when on the field played...

Yet time revea...

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If verbosity

be

linguistic atrocity

then brevity

must

preferably be.

Should

The slaughter

of

Prose & Rhyme

qualify

as Culture Crime?

All charges

must

of course be dropped,

the voice of man

will not

be stopped.

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Defibrillate these days

arrest the tides and moon

realign their unsynced ways

that harmony might bloom

Jolt the seas and sands

their drifts and timeless flow

reset their lost commands

from those which men impose

Shake clear the dusty canopy

unblock the damage done

reveal our blind insanity

that we might stay the sun

Stabilise o...

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If man cannot know the universe entire

how can he know his place in it?

A room is just a room within its walls

yet beyond it seems a stifling cage.

The truth of a man’s dimensions is a mystery

revealed only upon his demise.

Our "self" is a compressed vessel on the seabed,

the lowest point in a Cathedral of Infinity.

All possibilities exist beyond th...

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There are no sides but every side,

those defined by what they know nothing of

they are a t-shirt fading on a student's couch

a body festering in a Kosovan barn

Youthful righteousness,

insulting the open wounds of real people's lives.

croctears on "Whitehall" while "Bruxelles" gorges

"Capitol Hill" wrings its hands on red lines that can't be crossed.

Quiet you...

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In the cool air of the nave

the walls retreat from all but grief

The space between hangs still

no need of tears or mock belief

The silence is enough of heaven

that souls need never leave this place

The flag draped vessel so proudly primed

an end regaled in humble grace

Audio and Video at link

https://wolfgarwords.com/2024/05/11/vigil/

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I thought to write without one word that placed our species here,

though in one line my mind deferred all hopeful want of such idea.  

To write the firmament unlit or forest stripped of woodland life,

this sphere devoid of us in it might surely mean some other strife...

would in our place too meekly rise beneath such wasteful ways

and do more harm than human life in ...

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Built that someday they would come,

their war and their solution done.

Not by rail or cattle truck,

not by chance and not by luck.

By design of no return

In Blood & Soil their New World earned.

Crushed and killed that they might rise

to Rule beyond cold baltic skies.

When enemies invert their roles,

what's lost and won is more than souls.

With so much g...

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Rest beneath the Yew a while

hear Blackbird song and Thrushel flow,

you walked your long last lonely mile

to where all pilgrims surely go.

Be in your peace caressed by soil

return to life again from dust,

no winter freeze nor harvest spoiled

too harsh to quiet the springtime thrush.

Stone Cherubs pluck their rain-stained harps

the petal wilts as petals do,

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Gun in the fridge

the strangest thing

now it's just full of

Vodka and Gin

Gun in the fridge

belt buckle checks

burst ear drums

bodies and wrecks

Gun in the fridge

drive round again

buckshee rounds

in a bag in a drain

Gun in a fridge

don't carry ID

over the river

in the place they call free

Gun in the fridge

thank fuck I've...

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I cannot wrench another word

from the mansions of my skull,

Within a room so cranium white

I close my eyes to welcome dull.

As the fish against a hook

that twists and turns its own gut free,

we'll rip the pages from a book

so others truth we cannot see.

We spin and we avert our eyes,

at bitterness of being wrong

promoting our own freeing lies

we seal...

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Those who care not for thereafter

care neither for judgement today,

their sentence evoking mere laughter

as they shuffle their coil away.

Measure for measure the scales dip and rise

a pound of flesh can mean naught,

to the debtor who plucked sight from his eyes

and was blinded to what he had bought.

To strive for reward in a place uncontained

seems an act...

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Spoken first or last

or in the void of moments past

Those remembered are the ones

unfaded by a lifetimes Suns

un-dulled by silence dark and deep

they are the words we always keep

to shield against the words of hate

which dim and slowly dissipate

those words of love their gentle gift

so fine that all of time can't sift

the strength they g...

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Paul said "it's just another day"

all magical things start this way,

"slipping into stockings stepping into shoes"

out before the sunrise making our own news.

Our preparations for a day,

washing off the bruises covering the clues

outside the days not stopping,

slipping into sunlight exposing other views.

A twelve-hour blink for dreams and drinks

to bridge...

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I spoke of fear and conjured it

a coil of smoke into a vent,

a spark inside an oily pit

flamed oxygen within a tent.

Like breathing is to living

intoxicants abound,

our fears are unforgiving

we hide yet still are found.

Is it best to face the beast

when to cower seems the way,

to fight when hope has all but ceased

to rise and seize the day.

W...

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Roll out the excuses

the old tropes and abuses

Roll out your skin

your tattooed regret

March to the drum

"lest we forget"

How many syllables

to make

the world rhyme

Save on your ammo

kill two at a

time

I've still got my luger

under the

desk

we should have

gone easy on olde

Rudolf Hess

The blood of the crown

is not of

Macbeth...

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Alexander Demidenko is dead

his home has fallen silent

Alexander Demidenko is dead

His dog is dead

His garden is dead

His hope is dead

Alexander Demidenko The Pacifist is dead

his name is known abroad

Alexander Demidenko The Pacifist is dead

The dogs are barking

The gardeners are growing

The hope he gave lives on

There will be many more Demidenko'...

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I love the books I love the words

but oceans speak what I can see

like wings give flight to stupid birds

waves move the air and that moves me

It's not the Grand or Gaudy Jewels

that steer my shallow eye

those shiny trinkets snares for fools

that pass then pass them by

But like a breeze the words can lift

the jester from the page

and impart to him a pric...

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Will they be glad when I am gone

when my bare feet float above the tile

will there be regret will there be none

will any stop to think a while

The street will stir the cars will pass

the news will come and go

the mail won't stop nor will the grass

that's how things go I know

My goodbye thoughts I will not write

there'd be no point in it

my message however so cont...

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How to ponce about with words

to aim one’s arse to shape one’s turds.

Make them pleasing to the eye,

yet still attract the common fly.

Syllable or Syllabub,

is that stanza sweet enough?

That those who pander to its taste

are far too cool to be disgraced...

by calls to gladly recreate

the chunks of words which constipate...

pure thoughts ...

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The gargoyles trough

its guttered back,

its rainy cough

is holy hack.

Grotesque the tongue

and flightless wings

"thy will be done"

The Choirboy sings.

The Organ lifts their lofty praise

this priestly herd of lowly flock,

they revel in their earthly days

anointed ones of chosen stock.

The gargoyles leer spreads too late

the cassock stained...

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Present

The absence of support

girds all his lonely fucks,

of which there are too many.

Like a whore with her impatient cucks

she stirs her pot for life,

if any.

His children will be mute and void

all in-utero hope destroyed,

his post coital last cigarette

drawn to the filter of regret,

already she is out the door

the foetus on the killing floor.

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Let us slip away today

quietly just slip away,

wend ourselves toward the sea

thread our dreams to what could be.

Unpick ourselves from patterned cloth,

blend inside a landscape, soft.

Not held or fixed as if to stay

but free that we might drift and sway.

Let us settle in the night

by waves reflecting fiery light,

to wake in wonder at the sound

of eve...

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She's pushing her child the long way back home

it's warmer walking than being at home

She's passed on her details to welfare and police

better to be known than not known to police

She's been to the bank for warmth and for food

better to be given than not to have food

She went to the Mosque for friendship and prayer

better the friendship that comes with the prayer

...

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The Blood of Christ

in B&Q,

with tools and joist

their job to do.

The empty pews

the wine, the bread,

pastoral views,

across the dead.

The licensed hours

of temple aisles,

the plastic flowers.

the checkout smiles.

The collared throats

of men withdrawn,

Luther's notes

nailed up at dawn.

Between the two

It's hard to tell,

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The dendrology of Cities,

expanding from one seed of thought.

Their early settlements,

stone walled squares

their markets soiled and stained.

Cobbled pathways from steepled yards

meet public houses,

butchers and bakers.

Further still to the farmers and fishers

the outcasts the lepers.

Building on building,

road leads to road, from avenue

to escap...

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I am completely sane screamed the madman in rain

inside the scope of the trijicon

his wrists dripping blood and the money all gone.

Naked dancer on East African clay

panga smashed skulls at the height of the day

the Askari gate guard his chest "en filets".

Diphtheria racked gasps in a third world throat

promise to the bearer defaced on the note

with flood waters risin...

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Do you remember The Oystercatchers

in the quiet of still morning?

Their call shrill and persistent

as if a warning...

that in places formed from fiery rock

cold hearts might thaw their perma-freeze,

and from that melt of frozen shock

rise like Eagles on Summer breeze.

Do you remember how we fell?

and how we sailed that Mirrored Sea,

firing memories on...

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Originally called "Bethany beyond the Jordan" Because God is now business and copyright: renamed "Beyond the Valley"

Falling from the heaven's gate

toward the ruined Jericho

the river cuts the valley straight,

between two lands forged long ago.

From its waters kings rose up

anointed by unfounded creed,

that all who drink its holy cup

ensure their words live ...

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A chair leg

stands beneath an arse

enduring scrapes

and endless farts

It is the cornerstone

of rest

forever subject

to weight and stress

In some respects

it's just like you

it bears the load

it has to do

But if it creaks

and one day falls

the chair it holds

is bugger all

And all the

arse that ever sat

upon its strengt...

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Add five parts blood to five parts blood

shake well till indistinguishable

Add five parts lies to five parts lies

remove the scales that fall from eyes

Add five parts belief to five parts belief

filter well, truth lies beneath

Add five parts hate to five parts hate

let stand and watch coagulate

Add five parts word to five parts word

knead well un...

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You tether your thoughts to a leash

and send them out with gnashing teeth

They slather through the mystic maze

to tear the flesh from fragile days

You feel them pull and twist and jerk

those thoughts released become berserk

They bloat and swell beyond inception

too large to shrink at mere rejection

You feast and gorge on their return

such well-pl...

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