Wymeswold

Manure, muddy fields, smells of burned meat, a giant fire, – almost pagan – Guy Fawks and a Bowl of curry… In the middle of the field here he stands suit and trench the modern observer…Hot was the walk over, but the atmosphere cool – Here behold the community: The youths, The olds, The friends and the foreigners… – Gathered around – Fire and Works – A statue faux – Resemblance or reenactment – History, party, reliving or a burst of need?
A 12 year old asked about my country and I didn’t know what to answer…
Definitions a mix lost in translation – Books and an equation…
What used to be a statue still burns.
And people chatter on and on and on and on and on… and on and on ….
Hazy moon
Love not worth written
Love not worth liveth
Life begotten

Journey home

Blank eyes
Under fluorescent lighting
Empty - ing mind
A week's ramblings
And a weekend burst
Passed...

Soft music
Irrelevant people
And the roar
Travelling through countryside
18:00 looking like half midnight

Tomorrow a new day?
Surely calendarwise...

Shuttered

A body ravaged by semen
Tormented soul
The power of a kiss
The effort of a tear...

Analysing

I can see the history of the world on a tree trunk
Enamelled
As the sand is taken adeapth by the sea...

Love creeps
The hair up
Knot
The stomach
The gentleness of the move
The fantasy
Broken
By position's default
But still remains
At edge's text
Bitter ale
And a goodnight's smile

Beauty designed
Falters upon my double scotch
Where did we leave all the oysters and the fruits?
The rim of my hat
Remains
Observer absolue...

The need expressed
Drunken lip
Rosy cheeks
But,
Alive firebreathing eyes

The hands
Nervous
Nerve handling
Tense
The bones structure

A love is not worth living
Unless
Blood breaths
Fire churns
And death is the only solution
Without it,
life is not worth it...

Bodies unafraid of the cold
Flesh willingly unveiled
Flesh
Look at them
Look at them
They wait at the bus stop
They casually walk down the street
Look at them
Bodies
Flesh willingly out
A veil away
Carrying groceries walking home
Mundane aspects
Bodies inviting
A flowery existence
Hair running back
Dressed of spring autumnns end
The wind is no enemy
Look at them
And all my brain shouts
Is Why God?Why?