Out of the Ecliptic

Soldiers stare in poets' guise, shout bloody words at careless skies. Faces bowed are steeped in grief, and turn away from warrior and thief. Art ensnared in martial rule, followed by bloodlust thirsty fools. Teachers caught are sold and bought, preach manifestoes to the worth of naught. Mourning not another day, these people force my … Continue reading Out of the Ecliptic

Chesham Morning.

With apologies to Joni Mitchell… Woke up, it was a Chesham morning, and the first thing that I heard, was that noisy prick on a moped, and I mouthed a few choice words, and he came tearing up the road, at well over 30 miles an hour. Won't you go away, you've ruined my day, … Continue reading Chesham Morning.

He is alive.

Some time later, when the street vendors had packed away their plastic crosses and crown of thorn hats, a small group of young people gathered under His cross and began to sing. It was a sad song, but no one looked as if they were sad at all. This continued for some time, then they … Continue reading He is alive.

Son of The Legend of KARCHAN, part two, Rides Again!

I posted a version of this back in January this year (2022) where I mused that I seemed to remember that I'd actually written more of it but couldn't find the extra pages. Well, lucky you because I found them, three more "verses". The original threat was here: (Poetry again…). The first version is here: … Continue reading Son of The Legend of KARCHAN, part two, Rides Again!