Upon Stoic Hills

Upon stoic hills risen to point on platitude, distinct for I have seen on this day a path in winding for me, with a gold cross, set forth for others who may follow to cleanse imperfection and the despair of suffering,  like a magnet drawn in gravity scale I go.

Imposter

Impostor the parasite in a world of hosts impostor sat upon another’s chair the vague cell visiting, I’m no ones friend though, my father above is unique he didn’t birth on earth the impostor was never wanted, his personality of truths never wanted. But impostor sampled earth man vagaries and took them back to the master in galaxies above earth would now be left to die 21st century style in hell made of ignorance upon evil earth and vanities of the possessed and the various vivacious multitude of peccadillo.

Six Deep One Sin & I Put a Lid On

Six deep, one sin a minute, then out we go not conscious of any imminence optimism is the best ghost story, in your worst dream saving lives in intermittent waking under the pull of benevolent moon and in the morning god given sun so sustained are we.

I Put A lid On…

I put a lid on a fire and look for a sign it is lit there is smoke there are shapes in plumes I put another lid on I Stoke the fire it rages the shape is angry and determined but I am tired and can’t keep up with fire that consumes and delivers smoke equal measure to keep up with a fire in my heart that is trying to keep up with life running away

The Order is Silent

The order is silent curtain by curtain, street by street, all is closed but for a faded light and lagoons fill with unspoken truth, drowning interrogation from the master. A drop in deep green water but the curtains remain closed and dim light still fazed, a sky ship rises but they; I mean they, did not obtain what they wanted…

Blonde Saviour

I’m faithless, life made me that way in shear numbers the odds were stacked one mind pushing a million more back in a false endeavour, as evolution was sliding me away, an individual’s prayer in the masses. Like drowning in the ocean, who has the right to ask in this crucible of despair. Like young animals if we are treated right we might be kind, but we fight poverty inequality, discrimination in demarcation zones of modern life. Where even shouting louder never gets you heard, so we look to the sky on a clear evening. That can be a prayer if only I could reach the stars that tempt the mind to hope for better, till the silver ships arrive and a blonde saviour and partner shining Adam and with his eve, for we will start again.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive