English Suntan

Big tits and beaches sand in the creases, bodies cooking in a summer sun, living meat upon the shoreline. Shopping the vanity, cooking the human, what is this worship about why is it healthy to spit roast oneself, any marks out of ten for the decadent English suntan.

Adversity

Out of adversity I shone in shimmering forms of defiance the abandoned cliques I left behind the heart stopped and the heart felt nothing a spirit whisper strives away and cleansed me as I left

Empire

Empire and the colonial intermittents involved in all they can, over history armies columns high, time to control conquer and devour.  The toll and legacies unfolding in present days wandering you, aiming in pointless destinies, that cause so much pain and atlas sorrow.  Redemption is along a long tunnel with a vista beyond its core for those indeed who search for the land called crystal airs.

Born Again

 

Born again, did I wish to be a child again, once more at the mercy of a stranger upon another plain. In time the gruelling struggle to adulthood full of anxiety and pain in a future complication. In time where a weather vein, East, West, North or South life or death, what of future society, too busy to look or listen to a million cries of children pained.

Mothers and fathers and the dying cynicism of the no longer sages in their time, but controlling of every facet in their decline. So move on, a vibration curtail, the revival of perpetual misery where a sun comes up and then goes down but is intimately unaware of our unauthorised existence.

Numb

poemian

When the feelings gone how can one hurt or hate. When the light is hidden the truth can’t be found, we remain as the mole in his sightless realm, with small hillocks of earth as a cry for help, when The Devic Kingdom of nature is all one craves.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive