Aliens Hold Congress

It was announced by scientists on this day that Aliens had held congress with leading humans to reveal in reality that we have believed in biblical falsehood and to declare that our belief in God is a falsehood, we are but free fall models as seed from trees, a planted phenomenon on what we know as earth, our feelings of being are instructive of our construction and our hurt pain and suffering a condition that lives in our mortal time and alloyed spans, the devil is ultimate death behind a locked door.

New Balances.

Whatever happened to that familiar face, the one that went around the world-changing the direction of lives and deaths of millions, it was such a facade someone caught you unauthorised were they in the common mirror of man, your mask slipped and another world availed itself you are an alien, and the press were in that toilet you were alone exposed, so how do we inform a world in panic not to be alarmed.

If I…

If I am re-incarnated as a cat I will sleep upon cord jackets, I have now seen in my human life thus far the comfort and peace within the cat, two on one cord jacket curled in a mystic harmony and at the end of my time if I return as a cat trapped as I may feel in my new clothes I will curl on that cord jacket oh the calm

I Cry For The Celeb.

Do you remember crying in your beer for a dead star you thought you might know today. Do you cry for a celebrity who brings no joy, never makes you happy, but somehow does the business, whilst I sit with my ugly self-imposed version of doom

Pluto The Flat Cat That Went Splat.

An epitaph to the feline friend of Mason Cult.

Stone cats in the sun will they ever live again, feral destiny was never good my squashed cat friend has expired. His short coil now ended abandoned flat and no more, now his coat is his, all his soul has sped away. 

We noted him, we will try to remember him, but I sense we will all be stiff one day. Our thoughts will be as rigid as our bodies it a price we pay for gods gift short or long, that is mortality for Pluto the tomcat he is dead.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive