i AM INSANE

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.

OUR RED HOT POETRY ROUND UP FOR A SIZZLING SUMMER

In Nothingness

In nothingness what is the motivation is faith blind when we cannot see all empires turn to dust only a few symbols remain and legend grows upon dead mantles if God is but an energy then why has it not noticed distress among the living human beings are nearly over and it is hard to justify tradition to control man the animal will die and will have learned nothing but how to die after the realisation comes to himself for more years than we as a collective remember.

Ghost Spore

Ghost spore you know something is wrong the daily feel is not too detachment of many sorts and nature you have no answer, but only one hunch it’s in the air at approximately 2.00pm so keep your windows shut and mind the gaps. Even the cat flap must be observed. For there are ghost spores sent whirled up and dropped, never mind the virus for this is the superior beware of nature’s dusts I tell you, host spores are here and no government will stop them and so want a darker world keep posting, and keep a pouting, look serious, look aggressive and I assure you it will happen. Smile all please smile from now on, laugh create the ground and the thought for the new feelings, interplanetary cuddle we all need it. Let it happen just of this moment I prey collectively.

Time Enough

Time enough I said spin me me up I wait upon Turkers track for my special vortex which is already spinning for my salvation. I prefer the energy; I need to withstand the force that is unknown to me at this time, for I will soon know as I gently walk watching my last sunset I am going to planet Vixor. Those are my orders I have been instructed by my master’s this will serve me well. I see a light upon this track and I must follow the energy it arrives; I go. 

In a Moment

Early one particular morning while exiting an outside toilet facility of ye olde Warrior of Poetry he became caught up in a moment, he turned to his left and whilst doing so he became caught in an instant. His body became charged in a flash, behold a brown figure materialised for a fraction in time. This figure not of humankind had no face and appeared to frighten the wordsmith. His body electrified for a split earth second there are many more of us, this was the inception. For the briefest of moments, this was a visitor in time.

Clocks

Clocks tick by without me, I know of this for. I am within my own time and yet outside all other dimensions, a difference of sorts but essential, as if not the journey will not start. For I will become trapped, as others are among the weeds and the bushes. Post apocalyptic sufferings we came to this point because we let it happen. We had stopped talking there were no feelings left, just posed expressions, and no one knew how to be, so I remained focused ready for the faraway galaxy, yet another world beckoned.

Worship

Worship at the door but which door for there are seven they have no name upon them they are heavy, hard, more than wood but not quite metal, so what or who is behind the seven doors. But there are ways to enter and this starts in the inner light of your mind we should all obtain this and breathing is the key set the nerve ganglia in your spine alight and tune into your vortex chakras to find out then may these doors to the Adepts be open.

FROM A NOMAD

From a nomad to a slave down tracks across plains, through woodland tiny fires in the night under the trees and shadows. The call of life, the movements underground the moles were busy the occasional passer-by one hopes a friend. Not a foe but I begin to hear the noise of a closing the beginning of the end, alarmed, the more I stay the less I look at, little I remember for it is not long before something is around the corner many, but nasty, the metal scrapes, the floor junctions are blocked and dysfunction appears. I scurry here and there everywhere the path crosses more roads and the links to freedom fatter than ever, so this nomad begins to panic as the tiny campfires dim and the noises grow and groan. Freedom is apparently the beginning till the end so I’m sorry I must go.

POETRY GALORE FOR OUR WONDERFUL ARCHIVE !!

Lichen

Ah Lichen, the journey to the state of everything in the darkest town you are brown and broken we cannot breath, but in the strangest place you are, light green and amongst the death I breathe with the lungs of a champion. I move on for I am called the wandering variant. I live in moss near the pond. Lichen you are the sponge that keeps death away, you are my barometer of life you show me where I can walk. You are my guide, you are my microcosm to eternity I’ll shrink with the device and there I will be with you in my tiny sweet world.

A Day To See

A day to see, not close your eyes. Do not deny yourself light in this. There is still much daytime to rejoice for stillness is wise, silence is contemplation and thought for a new world order. Commissioned in good grace, it matters not if you are woman or man you should be people first and foremost and above all be kind. It costs but nothing if you find the time and that time is now be brave smile at the sun the benevolent one and be happy it still shines for all and everybody.

Devalue

Devalue sex, save this world, cut the instinct. Survive, you are breathing in the world and blowing out death and disease, there is no time. I think you know time for the human race, to fall to earth even wealth will not save you. We are indeed the walking dead and as the planets long before have gone we have no more ideas we are gone.

POEMS GALORE FOR OUR ARCHIVE !!!

Visitor

Early one particular morning while exiting an outside toilet facility of old, our poetic warrior became caught up in a moment. He turned to his left and whilst doing so he became caught in an instant. His body became charged and locked rigid as if by magic a brown figure materialised for a fraction of a second this figure, not of humankind and no face appeared and frightened the Warrior of Poetry, his body electrified for split earth second. There are many more of us this was the inception for the briefest of moments. This was a visitor in time, but from what time I ask…

Alienisation

Alienisation of earth, even with the cosmic brakes applied we reach our end. No consideration was offered for our existence no rhyme nor reason. Gunned down to the last were we the Alien amongst us had they picked the time and the place, had earth in cumulative successive historical wars proved that so-called humans had an image trait to hate one another, and from the master’s point of view we should not be allowed to go further. Indeed the experiment was over the buck stops here on violent earth. Other outer worlds had faired better with higher beings able to control any bad variable in their models. We will have warnings of our terminal time and all those considered for other worlds anew will be taken on board by awaiting shuttlecraft to motherships in the higher atmosphere.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive