Monthly Archives: August 2017

They say,

I have the hope

of a fool.

To that

I say;

I am here,

when all else 

perished. 

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Remembering

what has been,

I remember

I have

tasted life 

without you. 


Shadow on shadow; wrapped in purple velvet, back to back the calls. A two edged sword falls; sliced, easy to mistake blood for rust. Less so where there’s trust. Life, taught as I walked. As if there’s a traveller on the other side, I talk. 

Away with red cloaks, red cloaks. Armbands stitched with thin gold thread. Visible read by the invisible, not intimidated by red. 

No Sherlock, legless through music hall of song. Honey on honey, chalk upon chalk. Pricing up Cuban Sugar, a million dollar walk. Iced up path to Hell, you’ll be slipping on those rocks. Hawk went down for breath, up now with khaki fever. Girl on girl, moves on fleshy lust. Bust to thrust; why the smokeless gun, on soulless land of dust. 

Away with red cloaks, red cloaks. Armbands stitched with thin gold thread. Visible read by the invisible, not intimidated by red.


Palms pressed together,

eyes lowered to reality.

We fled to the stars.


Strange 

the acceptance 

of passers-by, 

having passed 

how easily 

they let go.
Strangers 
in turn 

follow 

as an echo, 

heard whenever

light 

misses shadow. 


Waiting on lights

to change

from amber

to green;

hurtling towards

an abyss,

come, 

pull me through

the days dream.


You ask for

signs from God,

covers left closed

and pages rot.