The Ancient cattle blew there moist noses upon the kingdom of the Forest tiny moist balls flew to the trees in absorbed protection splatter and assimilate trickle into rugged bark this a devil ? in devick kingdom, conceived to do battle with barely seen activity of The Great White Brotherhood, in their blue to white light those left at secret locations to help the work of Adepts defending against evil anywhere in any place of earth time.

By Mason Cult Poet

Mason Cult Poet was born in Westmorland in the Lake District in a farming engineering community. On one side of the family many portions of nobility mainly the Stuarts. Mason Cult did as the herd does and went through the education process. attended drama school and ran small businesses. The stigma of mental health issues blighted him as it does with all creative people, was diagnosed in 2011 with a form of Asperger’s Syndrome which can impair executive function however it has given him a higher sense to see what others do not and from this ability he concludes the world is controlled by esoteric forces and that other interventions operate steering the world we know ro a new beginning.. What we witness we are forced to challenge and the work of Mason Cult assists this

One thought on “Ancient Cattle”
  1. Ian,

    There is something great about your poems. The challenge our expectations and describe the unfamiliar (e.g. how the breath of cattle, contains the molecules of life or how we can see lost faces in the fabric of our everyday lives). However, the lack of punctuation makes them difficult to read and obscures the meaning.

    Read the poems back to yourself. Read them out loud. Think about where you would make a natural pause. This may be where you need a comma. Think about where the topic changes. This is where you may need a full stop or a paragraph break.

    Why not take one of your ideas and play with it. Forget about the metaphysical or aliens, just ponder on your own reflections. For example:

    ‘In the comforting fabric of our everyday lives, we can see faces. In the patterned rugs and colourful clothes, the shy smile of a forgotten relative or the fearful gaze of an unknown wraith stare our from the ornate leaves or abstract designs of mechanical weaving. The human eye is drawn to faces. We see them everywhere. Yet, somehow, walking upon or wearing the frozen mouth or tortured glance of spirits frozen in painted warp, seems wrong. Perhaps that is why there are no patterns on shrouds.’

    Just keep your poems simple. You have some great ideas. You do not need to add the theories of others or include reference to aliens. Such references complicate the poems and detract from your strength, which is to see things in a different way.

    ?

    ________________________________

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