On the outside

On the outside looking inside watching others having fun, on the outside looking inside wishing I were one. On the outside of life, in a crowd of just me, on the outside of heaven, dreaming I could be. 

The Unknown Enemy

I can hear the battle cry, “war is upon us” though we beg through tender mercies for change to come, the task is far from won, I hear screams as they March on, flames ignite the men in their gathering, Ally by ally fall to form a path of bodies in which all who are fighting will tread their way. The enemy is a cruel master beguiled into destroying all species of human  incapable to hold the show of strength, surely good shall not prevail when this war of evil is nigh to the end, nay the enemy would rather enslave mankind to use as its fodder, slaves to build weapons and palaces for future kings or queens of evil Constance.  Men forged forward still, treading on into blast after blast of exploding terror, I saw bodies disintegrated, heads decapitated, continuing on hoping to reach their eventual goal with enough strength to swing an axe, to make a mark and yet, on they go with a reddened road ahead knowing the very fight they are entering into is a fight for the survival of all men, women and children. As the numbers decreased more joined the throng with the increasing desire to overcome the evil stench of their invaders, young people also mere children, from young years of tender age carrying weapons in a multitude of ways to destroy the evil beast that lay waiting in the distance, yet knowing their end could be soon and fatality was in their wake. The season change from spring to summer, autumn and winter was hard, yet  still the fight raged, exhausted from lack of sleep, injured lay everywhere, children left to fend for themselves, death and destruction seemed the only course of action left, then the snow came, heavy and on time, January became the waking call for victory, as the white stuff lay on the ground it fell heavy all around, the enemy in the field were from a distant world of heat and dust, they had had no time to create buildings in which to grow the plan of habitation, no! their plan was to destroy first then build later, now as the earth became colder and colder the evil force became ill, snow scolded the skin on each and every one, burning porous holes and melting everything in its wake, hundreds of thousands of evil parasitical invader lay dying in their area of choosing, Earth became the defender of its inhabitants, People waiting by, wondering why the spat of death and war had become gloomily quiet. Among the ruined men, women and children, a fourteen year old girl who went by the name of ‘Kashita’ volunteered to step forward, those in charge refused, yet she went anyway, to lead the search of why peace had suddenly, yet quickly arrived, after a long trek of seeing human remains scattered across the land ,she eventually found monsters ugly and huge, beasts that had only one thing in mind, to destroy whatever enemy that lay in wait, these weren’t the strong beasts that she expected to find but sick and dying monsters, Kashita eventually returned to ignite the hearts of any person that was healthy and fit enough to fight on, “The enemy is ugly and brutal with weapons that are unknown to us, but they lay dying, we must take all who we can to destroy them”. Kashita’ unknown to her at the time would become a great leader that people begged to follow throughout time, for now all she had to do was lead a small army of hungry, tired soldiers to eradicate what was left of this huge scarab of monsters that lay ill, she led and they followed willingly. Masters of the weakened creatures would squirm and squeal as they hid away in tents unable to escape the cold brittle breeze, the snow falling sealed their doom, accepting their death, knowing they had ran out of time, Humanity the conquered had become the conquerer instead, the enemy that they now feared would be the creatures of their own planned fate

Heart, Mind, Lost Soul

Hollow echo syphons my soul , Vortextual suction removes the remainder of all joy, clouds darken to dissipate the sparks of glittering hope, I am alone without mechanism to cope

Swirling lines of ecliptacle prism, spinning long player draining colour fast, heavy on thy closing eyes, curtains blacken life from before, memory gone, fading fast. 

Deepens the act of thine being here, just a few will do, my thoughts require the peace of never again knowing the reason why the fight must go on, I  will not Recognise the face that haunts me.

Sleep comes fast, infinity beckons the finality of the fragile glass, once it came to this place, a gash on my hand, crumble thy ancient suffering bone, for a million years of whitened sand. 

La Fontana in Piazza

A man drinks from the fountain in the middle of the grand Italian square, he is standing in rugged cloth with unkempt hair, thinking of a time when he once ‘afore was here, the party continued all night, every kind of folk came, he saw lights of fire, sounds of laughter waves of cheer, when he once before was here, now there is silence and not a gleer.

A kiss ‘da ‘una bellissima signorina’, mumma so proud,  tears from her rosy cheeks prompting out loud, “stai attento figliolo”, pappa’s little prayer, a hard worked convocation from this happy little crowd, a boy becomes a man, on to the enemy shroud, a last faint picture of a hopeful crowd

Thirty years had gone drifting through the shadow of his past, returning to drink a long awaited thirst at last, to finally breathe in peace, releasing the catharsis of a long awakening, the charming serenity of this lovely ‘bella città’  the warming of his heartfelt repression. the scars of deep digression, an end of mournful depression. 

Mush

Looking deeply at the damp drudgery eating the walls, I push my hand completely through, there is no sound, no one is around except the dripping twinkle of the curse, a tarnished complexity stooped in historical depth, out of focus observing a benign despair, I climb a weakened stair that crumbles to the floor below yet not a soul will miss, water trickles down the rain washed brow, I can see now, ‘tis a day that is meant to be, I can hear the shadows in thy distant pass fading away from me, yet without choice, I shall let it be.

Return to the hive

I got my lazy arse out of bed, a pain throbbing in my neck, someone’s been drumming on my chest, I’m surprised that I could get any rest, a hip which is black from a utility bruise, if I could choose I’d be on a cruise or in the school at the sst hive, I’ve never been so thankful for being alive. 

Scar on face

Remembering a time when we were young, knocking hats off and chewing gum, scrumping neighbours apples, fighting their kids, we were ignorant yet happy, we called them ‘yids’ an antisimetic term for the ignorant and young, the local accent rolled off our tongue, we were thoughtless youth, a little scruffy, a little uncouth, honest little villains that were innocent in truth. I learnt as I aged to turn a different page, care for others without rage, not be judgemental of differences in looks, what people wear or what they cook, to see the humanity, the suffering in others, the damage from destruction, what war is about, the pain of children, they scream, they shout, hungry stomachs from going without, there is a greed in humanity that I’d rather not see, lives lost in killing from a murdering spree when the devil enters their homes to create tragedy, I hope to look in the mirror and say ‘thank god it’s not me’  

The Starling

She unwrapped the bird and it flew up high flapping its wings way up in the sky, 

a start of freedom to seek and find, a new lease of life for the once before blind.

Ode to a Kipper

You lay there bronzed with a shine, I could not wait until you were mine, when I could touch your fine line, curves like a belle on a beach, a sensual smell, uniquely devine, I grasped you tight then brought you home, eventually when we were at last alone, you glistened and spat as if you were an angry cat, placed under the grill, covered in butter and then I ate, the delicious fish, what a tasty dish. 

Autoantonym

Feeling tall while walking small

Fell off a ladder

Not funny at all

A sense of humour one must have

so I’m crying laughing when going to the lav.