ciò che resta quando se ne va la lussuria

To quote, ‘love lasts forever’, tho' the strength of a strong vibrant flower weakens with a gasp of air, along with its fragility dies thus’ bringing it to an end and fateful demise, I grudgingly accept, ye’ will know of no such cause, till it unfolds an unnatural cause, passionately I kiss thee, thy feelings are unknown, o’ torment to be left forlorn, condemned ‘to have this desire for all, though in my fragile mind, Tis’ tainted, for I will love thee always, my heart will endure til’ the bitter finality of endured time, perhaps on’ 

Super bad

A bad choice at my time of life, obtuse to the core, I should have been wise, exclude the history of all good and done, an error of judgement that just, was not fun, the cracks are showing, a mental breakdown, I’ll live to regret the moment it begun.

Laugh Back!

When people are laughing at you, be strong, stand tall then, …..Laugh back! 

Love thy enemy with a Passion

Don’t shoot the breeze, for it has done no harm

Fill the world with forgiveness, Love, Joy and calm. 

The gentle breeze

A gentle breeze strokes my face on a warm summer  evening, reminding me at once of a memory and the flick of your hair tied with white satin lace, It was as real as if I had been touched gently by a ghost, sending a shiver through my soul by the presence of a loving host, time changing as I step through the Bermuda Triangle,  I am once again ambling slowly, there are children laughing at my fragility, for I am old and still very much alone. 

History in the Future

Light emitting diode, spinning entangled ray, secret of DNA in the nuclear fusion fight, splitting causes division as negative power of force, fading to non existence, a darkened dimming course.

Plasma combination, led rayed sight, encapsulated nuclear heat in shells of micro might, cross hair strands particles of gas, injected as stars in a millimetre mass, the higher revolution twisting, turning high, a volcanic class a million miles high 

Why?

Despise the shame of it, embarrassment accompanied with narcissism, oh to be fool at the realm, transparency without the remorse, a belligerent PM born with wealth of course, why of course ?

Climb up the hill, deny the chance to fall, work hard wearing your comfortable wool, keep close to the pack, not returneth thee to slack, weigh down the burdened sack, a sad sheep shall lie on its back.

One Day

Waking at five in the morning, peaceful tranquility, not a sound to disturb sleeping butterflies, here I am alone, disturbed no compensation for hardly any shutterbies, the trickle of an over zealous pump from my fish, yet still I wish, a desire, only to be cured with a loving kiss. 

Six o’clock the birds sing a song of wake, collecting my jacket off the hook, I shake, resembling a man who’s spirit is ready to amalgamate another day with good intentions, still dormant from the hard floor of redemption, still away I go, leaving the quietness of my life.

However strong, the change is too long, my hearts desire is to be at home once again, missing the precious moments that I am within your life, my companion, my love, I dare say, my wife, incorporating the chase, at five. 

Too long the song is mellow and sad, aching to dance lively with fun, a little fad, frequently the chance to move near In keeniss, I jerk for a minute to the awkward obscene jingle of the beat, until I collapse in a seat, retiring for the evening.

Weekend walking incorporating all the colours of my desire, deep red sky warns of danger to come, pleasant none the less, a peace unknown for some, while walking through the crested path gravel underfoot, I spoke to the little red breasted Robin, he rested close, baying for my attention or maybe for a pose, I will never know

‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭4:32‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

“And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.”

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16th August 1977

A perfect line with the edge spread, so typographical the news being said, white paper, black print, headlines such as this must be worth a mint, tragedy strikes all the same, it wasn’t the print, but it was the name, my thought was ‘Someone has gone wrong in the head’ the day that I read “THE KING IS DEAD” 

Of equal measure?

Tainted bite carried in the breeze with chimney smoke, wrapped in garment quilt and fine, sheep shiver woolly less readying for lambing season, the John Deere’s chugging lights shine in the fog, farmers wife cooking delicious pie in her old green Aga with logs.

Annie waits for the lift in her twenty floor block, gone ten minutes since 9 O’clock, shopping bags are heavy, icy cold shrill, up twelve flights with a weight that could kill, seventy two years last Sunday week, husband unwell, he has the inability to tell.

 a family of four, man and woman, children two and five, Adam had an accident tragically died, Kate in a wheelchair MS bound, still she can get up and move around, sadly not entitled because of this flaw, although unable to open the kitchen draw.

Oxford to live Oxford to die, a university challenge, a long time to cry, birth into wealth, a history at thirty born into a world where he is ejected and dirty, becomes a politician, climbs to the top, lost touch of humanity, has a fear to ever stop, promising one day to make them all pay, cut all the benefit’s to richen his way, 

Be the judge, the go between, smoke is smoke, a proportional screen, money in paper goes unseen, sometimes rich and sometimes poor, decide for yourself what your tax is for, for all to share or the box in your drawer, make your vote count, remember, who for. 

……@

Lost in a troubled mind, yet I find the truth is hard to bare, there is not a soul there, no one dare be caught in the fall out of despair to dissipate who knows where, alone, in fear.

in my solitude I am the storm blowing leaves on a dreary day, the noise in my head will not sway, thus leaves venturing near, rise up…..to blow away, 

placid Perfunctory , oh my heart despair, an angel in the desert wandering within the proximity of thy soulful care, a sensual clad day invites eve, night falls to take advantage of thy meekness, abuses the persuasion of my weakness, a mirage is at hand, alas once again everything turns to sand. 

Within

Within this wall, I hear no sound, no reaction, I feel no love, within this wall

Within this wall, all is empty, I cannot hurt anyone, except myself, within this wall

Within this wall, there is no gain, no reason to remain, from Reality I abstain within this wall

Within this wall, I shake with fear, no one is near, they would not dare or care within this wall 

within this wall, I can be an image of what I could become, there are none but me, within this wall

Within this wall, no one hears my scream, I am dead, within this wall.

Final day

Chug chug shhh shhh whoooo as it pulls away

Sir winston Churchill brigade parade 

Steam embroiled platform

the story of a special day

I don my cap, then salute the scene

A memory that I cannot recall

I have less than any, if any at all

A small 00 model with a crowd so small

to create a time scailed piece

A resurgent rush of blood

an instantaneous release

courageous end of an oblivious struggle

They buried the dead then picked up the rubble.

Alone with Memories

Everything has gone, fascinating colours of fireworks light the sky , I cannot bring you here to see, no..the memories bring you near to witness a spectacular showing of my misery, tears fall, because I cannot bring you here to me. 

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.