Bunce Island, Sierra Leone - deserted slave fort island. Visited by sailing dinghy '78
I don't belittle slavery here, its how I felt at the time:)
As most will know, Kunta Kinte is from the book 'Roots' which I read in '77.
Hush foolish pre-emptor who steals… Still that feeble flitting one wit… Dark distractor - lover of meaning… With deep solemnity let go of I,… In that space you thought was you…
To yearn for love is not a rarity but every man’s inevitability; craving satisfaction for our unbroken hearts - affirmation of existence
As age draws on I see cause and e… in the realms of life that some mi… For years I sought my answers wit… with no solutions, I started to do… I turned first to god, the father…
A sophic bridge of signs to worlds beyond the magical, long taken as mundane by the disregarding masses. Obscure and yet discerned
No gun in my face, No plague or famine or drought. Then what irony, This pampered life of luxury, Should bring about such agony,
Our fodder, which art in Devon Mallow be thy name When springtime come thou will be yum, from earth, green leaves are heave…
Hours enthralled by cryptic signs, with ancient tomes and riddled rhymes. Gleaning facts from mystic lores - and still she never sought divorce…
Late inside The Orange Tree, a burly builder on his knees. Well earned pint now cast asunder, he sought respect - his only blund… -
Compliments to the baker and so too my Barista Smoothest crema on the tongue juxtapose to lemon vapour. Intense acute sensations
If I was an Afghan, whatever would I do? Bullets flying everywhere I wouldn’t have a clue! -
1978 - Boarding school - The day… Grey flannel blazer, grey stone wa… Under a cold grey sky. Grey skinned strangers speaking gr… Long bleak and lonely,
When I at last shall die, what th… the meaning in this world of men - the flux that formed before my wak… when from that tranquil harbour fo… to pass again thru’ terra’s fiery…
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,
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
The Atheist scoffs at talk of God and finds me rather odd! “We came from Nothing - Heading for Nowhere” “Nothing to Nothing -