"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

PHOTOGRAPHER


Why am I lost
Amongst the daffodils
Swaying in sweet breezes
Above the trickling rills
As I wander
Across the florid hills
And point and snap
The clouds
To make my stills
Of God's skyscapes
Above His rampant earth?
Because it helps me
To sense my true worth,
Freed from oafish extremes
Of glut and dearth,
At one with wonders
That can bring rebirth.


Saturday, July 9, 2016

ROADKILL

Have you ever tried to remember what
You were thinking seven long years ago?
When you were paid to think about a lot -
Conundrums cloaked in columns and cash flow.
So how about events when you were young?
They're all so clear and bright those memories.
All words were new, they tripped off a sweet tongue,
And you heard rhymes and rhythms in the breeze.
Yet now each day is like a gauntlet run -
Your face slapped by studded leather falsehoods.
You served, you worked, and, yes, sometimes, you won,
'Til you were flattened, roadkill, damaged goods.
But now you know nothing of anything,
Although, in nightmares, you watch liars sing.