Dark Truth

Its a simple game but a game with many versions, like the thought behind the answer to the question, like the quality of silence in Cistercians, and the ring of life has truly no diversion. Is there sun behind the whore in the darkness??

One Saturday in June When I Had Taken a Rest from Living

There are too many people and they intermingle just a little bit too much. And then there are relational difficulties. Its a a great big roundabout where people hop on and off all the time. Perhaps everyone screws evrybody else one way or another.

Warm Summer Rain

Loving someone , you step outside of yourself, losing yourself in the midst of a picture you can recognise without seeing. Haunted by the moon and the demon pulls you open to a torture of the soul. SoI played my guitar and I sang songs to Venus and the songs were made of clay, when I had thought them living. I knew that I was a fool to be so foolish, and I ran away into another corner, finished the drink and threw the glass away, and she stood there crying in the wild jukebox evening and the day grew dark, and she consoled me with her care, and then there was fire, and the fire was a mountain, and as it tried to break its way into magic, the shepherd came with the memory of the ring, and she aligned herself with the feelings of the shepherd and she erased me. I walked into the deserted day, when it was indifferent and unknowing and it walked to the side of the world we had been in, and I picked up a candle in the flickering daylight and I was cornered by the years and they forced me to recognise them and know they were speeding and I smiled in my soul without tomorrow, and the moment grasped me and stopped me and I was passive, but recognised the moment without ever having seen it, and I was thankful of time anthe clock was silent and the day stood still but I was getting older and I saw the past, and the past ignored me and all I had left was a dream that I could not remember and I closed my eyes to mystery and blew the candle out and walked into the warm rain of the summer

Raining on the Day

Its hard to understand the day when it is raining.

Spirit of Light

Spirit of Light: The dam bursts into the open arms of the waiting nighttime, where the cold is dark and forbidding. Her name is like the wind and the cover of the sky, and she is in motlion. her eyes suggest a tranquil sound and I meet them in a storm of passion and I feel suspicious as I look upon my feelings. Somewhere someone is making love tonight and all that I can think about is consideration. its a subliminal world whre the conversation isn't really conversation, where fantasy is more fantastic and truth is imposssibkle to feel. And the daytime is like a magnet for the barren darkness, a present future where change is not for sale. The passive time of the present moment must be blown up into tommorrow when and where all at once a spirit of light will reveal.

The Poet and the Coalman

Poetry as deviation, disguise, deception, appearance, and then the 'poet' who really shouldn't be there, from an outside point of view at least. And the blinding vocabulary and truth staring with the look that only truth has and the 'poet' must squirm and face the reality. Perhaps he should have been a Coalman!

A Fortunate Photograph

A fortunate photograph, in a day that betrayed reality. Could've been another person, a series of persons, a type. And she loses herself in style until she is only a part of a group picture and she doesn't want to be herself anymore. And I gaze from the side and identify her from before. I think that I know who she really is.

A World Reborn

Suddenly, the world became transformed and remembered what it was and where it was, and it gazed inwardly and all around noted the changes. In turn the changes became a mirror until the mirror lost its power of reflection. And the skies smiled on the day and the day was still and and at peace with itself.

A New Moment

In the birth of a moment a world arises. Its dawn seeking, its view all-encompassing. It lands on the wheel of fortune, as you arrive there, and if you look at it, it may just look back at you, and smile.......

Colour of a Feeling

Inside is like a colour. How are you supposed to colourise a feeling? How are you supposed to express in words what it is? I think this explains to me about just how personal life is.

Moore Street Satuday Morning Moment

Just in a moment, someone took notice. Their world in a change from some vague kind of action. I looked inside of me trying to understand why, and I still couldn't see it from the other point of view. It seems sometimes there is no such thing as innocence. Differences is a word for universal thought.