A bigot blind will never see, we are all as John Donne’s flea since Adam claimed mortality, who knows what hues in history flowed in darker veins than thee,
Leafy London, garden roses, Late one summer’s afternoon. No recourse from tragic duty. Hope his kids are still at school. Stranger sorrow, swiftly rising
Hours enthralled by cryptic signs, with ancient tomes and riddled rhymes. Gleaning facts from mystic lores - and still she never sought divorce…
Time nebulous unfolds ~ twisting bulbous entity. Pressing back the void, forever riding on the cusp of Now. Crystallising ethers of tomorrow,
Our fodder, which art in Devon Mallow be thy name When springtime come thou will be yum, from earth, green leaves are heave…
Sativa, queen of spiral code her genome holds a key, that turns the cogs within my mind once stuck, now running free. She sparkles in the Autumn sun
I’m want to take the common straw lay strewn across the bar-room flo… ~ discarded, used to curse and sho… I’ll card it ~ scrape the thistles… Feed my loom run at a canter
Causal power, well of might eternal origin of life issued more than physic’ light - mass generated polarised. From energetic genesis,
Contradiction mocks the pseudo-sage. No charlatan, this clown-chameleon; subject to his nature,
I’m sorry if my attitude seems som… I love this life much more since… but by the same degree to hell I o… and now I know it’s not the 'get’… I’ve come to understand, life’s fu…
The ancient seers knew the score in granite etched on Dolmen door with Spiral glyph and centred dot, such subtle pictographic plot. Tho’ cyclic emanations flow
As a company of poets, I trust upon your empathy. This lyric passion that we share has led me to epiphany. Of worldly craft I am bereft,
‘Life is Love and Love is all Cr… Words of more than lyric consolati… The heart lies in the place of min… Building worlds of singular invent…
'We’ the west can be so proud of o… where everyone can take a vote for… We’ll fund the freedom seekers who… and understand they must rise up t… We’ll help them when they turn for…
No gun in my face, No plague or famine or drought. Then what irony, This pampered life of luxury, Should bring about such agony,
