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All I see is bricks and mortar so I head to my canopy far away beneath the trees in secret woodland where the odd whisper of smoke can be see trickling between millions of leaves. I am free it’s still called a den by me a retreat out of sight, no TV, a firepit and, hand cut logs. My tin of coffee is bubbling I will have to let it cool down, for I am insane now and I don’t want to be. For I am just me and if you catch me that is all you will observe.

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

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The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive