Avid Viewer

Psychology dreamt to condemn the weak, television showing a weekly episode of the obtruded personage freak, an alien escaped the poverty torn land that they once escaped, living near free, lest cheap, condemnation through hard working viewers call it evening entertainment, obesist unemployable leech, thoughts spoken the least, deceitful treacherous Connivant political motive, designated corruption outset, broadcasting agenda smearing, molecule percentages inconsequentialy important realism,  provoking intellectual change, hideousness, a generational sect, National depth of inhumanity for a polling box collect

English Heritage

Thag castles foundation beneath thy shrine, 

Das Gold ist in deiner Tasche

Palace of consequence stitched in time 

spectacular nuance of living fine

Silver tonguing lick out a pitiful snake

Gleeful generosity for a drip feed

Cutting black stuff in a deepened mine

feeding a family of nine

Grotesquely skeletonised children 

There is none that see supposing thou’ blind

Thag castles not a palace grown from crime 

Expressing a peerage  passionate embracial, kind

receptum colouful

Quomodo enim in unius tantum dolorem in una septimana. Oculos meos oculos parumper spem nequaquam plorabis, in mundo enim mens ridet, et supellex varia ad receptum 

The story of Aimee Jay James

There is a wonderful little town called hope, where the parishioners dutifully elected their own God-fearing pope, a church of stone, a navy blue phone, no person there kept their business unknown, watched by day, asleep at night, the barbers cat was the scariest creature, he only attacked in fright. 

The town was safe with a happy refrain yet, after this evening things could never be the same, a young girl, fifteen years of age disappeared, never seen again, a young man they arrested when she went missing, the week before they were seen together kissing.

The story leads us to thirty years in the future, Aimee Jay James was found dead by the river, forty five years of age, recognised by her DNA the same girl that disappeared on that fateful day, Joseph the boy was hung in sight of an angry lynch mob who were regretfully, not right, Joseph died that dreadful night he had no willing cause to put up a fight except in his head they said he wasn’t right.

The truth is sad yet true to aim, Aimee jay James stepfather was the one to blame, he hid her in a cavern that he meticulously built, lining it with brick walls, no windows, no guilt, imprisoned as a slave for thirty years, she had been a captive ever since, without any tears, beat and abused then filled with drugs, kept Aimee undernourished without food, she had water in an old white jug using it to fill her cold metal mug.  

Along came the spring, her captor weakened and sick, the long hard winter had taken the strength on his grip, he entered the prison, said to Aimee Jay “sorry you have not been fed” the old man placed the shiny black pistol to his head, he pulled the trigger, of course he was dead, Aimee gathered her things, she walked away from hell, frightened of her new found freedom, out in the wild, as a new born child, it was like hearing for the first time, the birds, the trees, the flowing river, the buzz of the bees.

As Aimee Jay kept walking on, legs about to collapse, her mind in the woods, sick to the stomach, due to lack of food, without the controlling drugs that kept her in a calming mood, she glanced at the river, then the fish within, she was hungry and very thin, Aimee felt so tired, she was in need of a sleep, she continued two kilometres then fell from her feet, rest was the requirement she needed forever, no life at all with the struggles of tether, they buried Aimee Jay James at the river she lay, beside beautiful Azaleas that blossomed in May.

 

Twinkle in Thy Time

When my fate is duly drawn, my days grow old of fight, my angel will leadeth me with thought on, into the darkness of the night, my body withered and worn, grew old for life whatever be the cause, thy soul will follow thou spirit, leave away thy structure made to pause.

thy stars I follow, tho’ journeys away to space, galaxy of many wonders, ne’ breeze upon my face, thy beckon me to observe, a darkens twisted vine, humanity of ugliness clinging boldly on for time, forever it seemed thy travel ever since it began, though virtual relaxation and peace apon the land

futuring on thy craft of light, throu’ seemed a trillion stars bright, I never could have distanced, thy vision yo’ neared to me in sight, ahead a golden gleam, a palace of silver walls with gates of gold, a picture of a wonderment, a thousand miles tall, I was in awe at a shiny crown capping the roof, sitting on a ball, lands upon its surface identical to earth, a belt of diamond shaped stars locked around the girth. 

I drew nearer the glowing palace of thy lord, thousands lined the streets, clapping, “smile’ were the words , I saw familiar faces, the people that I loved,  the history and the future in the land above, My mother, My father led me to the mansion in thy head, eventually once I reached there, ‘‘twas an amazing garden shed

A night out

Encroachment if he speaks, encouragement uplifts the confidence he seeks, out of depth, never to embark, drink more whisky then a walk in the dark, thoughts of a desperate task, not moving in fear, frozen on the spot, dared not ask for a dance, or take a daring chance 

on the cold street while walking to his room, he heard a clink, a bottle dropped, he hurried on, reminding himself not to stop, footsteps from a door in front and behind, a thump to his head, the shock of it sent him blind, at least two were cursing and kicking him all over, he wondered why he was clubbing in Dover.

Eventually he felt no pain after losing consciousness his demise brought them gain, the police questioned who he’d upset and why?,  they never found out, he was one more victim that had died, the family placed flowers on the street of the crime, the only thing his mother could do was fall to her knees and cry

Yin and Yang, Karma at play, tread on a twig, unbalance the day, kill an insect, blow too much, if it is a must, be gentle with touch, bury a seed, plant a tree, work hard like Martha or believe and see. 

Hmm!

Everybody has one good book in them, I am intuitively different, my brain is an explosion of never ending particles of electrified sparks encountering damp illusions completed by worries and short circuited confusions.