If I was an Afghan, whatever would I do? Bullets flying everywhere I wouldn’t have a clue! -
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
The truth becomes a mystery when penned by the pre-victor who peddles bullshit History thru’ his BBC predictor A flash before the impact
A sophic bridge of signs to worlds beyond the magical, long taken as mundane by the disregarding masses. Obscure and yet discerned
Dignity Stripped Flesh Ripped Morphine Tripped Profound Pain Inhumane
In that term, as I remember, I first built my delusion. From September to December, Was childhood’s conclusion. Back at home for Christmas,
A flight of fancy to mystical land in Arjun’ chariot I crossed Ram’s… to that cinnamon isle of gold-grai… —tear of Mahabharata On a palm-trellised beach I held…
Gnostic indications of a deeper tr… in every fractal facet of existenc… Paradoxic’ spill of light, beyond… —a spark within the fire of One om… Effulgent sunrise deep within the…
In deep non-thought I saw a comprehensive vision of mankind’s epicycle seen in round completion ~ Angelic cries as hosts
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,
Damn, the moon was bright last nig… her energy charging, wiring me ~ Though still this day is in full l… tonight I’ll feel her overwhelming… It’s been two years since it began
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,
No gun in my face, No plague or famine or drought. Then what irony, This pampered life of luxury, Should bring about such agony,
Late inside The Orange Tree, a burly builder on his knees. Well earned pint now cast asunder, he sought respect - his only blund… -
