The Sea Murmurs Murder

The red ragged rocks

Of grievous assault

Are in our steps

And our footprints

Carry the weight

Of deadly thoughts

As they imprint

Upon the shore –

Sand made concrete

By harsh fate’s hand…


Pedlars Of Perfection

Superficial souls

Vain sellers of

Artificial perfection

And critics of nature

Have planted toxic roots

Which have grown under

Skin not theirs

Which like bamboo

Under nails

Have bled

Out dying hope

And hollowed the heart

Made it cry

Tears that will not cease

Until all that is left

Is the mirror

That shows

Brittle bones

Standing in flesh

Where mind

Has deformed

And forced


As the norm

Upon beauty;

Calling it ugly

In the ubiquitous lie

Protected and promoted

By society’s hell.

Man And Beast

Around me are atrocities

The deadly underhand deals

Of man and monster-

(That is, the beast in man)

They twist the air with slick sayings

Of peace, when all they yearn for is war

The taste of blood would bring them wealth

The crying out of the terrorised does not phase them

With complete knowledge of the brutal truth

They manipulate and manage the masses

To war! For wealth!

A Single Tear Drop

It all led up to this.
A world against me, bartering with my life,
It drives through me like a knife,
Your years of endless strife,
Black badness grabs me from every turn and source.
I smiled through every stormy mile of my life.
I did not shout,
I showed not feeling,
I did not dare to try.
A crushing weight of dark and light,
Forced me to end this bottled night.
I cry,
A single teardrop,
Filled with my within.
A haze of coloured emotions fills my line of sight,
I crumple to the ground,
I am a broken man…

Ready to be fixed?…

Alpha and Omega

Smelling of an old book, musty with age.

It is a waterfall, falling downward forever, slowing diminishing the things below,

Like the branches of a tree, splitting into many different paths.

Measuring it is as impossible as understanding the emotions of the heart.

Understanding may come, it will just take Time.


The sky, a perfect white, a blank canvas waiting for the sunset to give it life.

Rain falling, creating puddles, creating reflections, some reflecting the world in a good way, others reflecting it as bad.

But some rain falls on the leaves of an old tree, craggy, withered from age.

These few droplets, are like the eyes of a child, looking all around at once,

they capture the world, seeing everything,

the good and the bad, yet still seeing the true beauty of the world in that single moment, before falling to the ground below, into the puddles, which reflect the world as a black and white place.

The sun sets, painting the sky a vibrant picture that no artist can match, the rich colours making the evening come alive, showing that the world is not black and white nor as we see it, rather it is as it is and is ever-changing.

Singly Me

Pressure all around.

Reality shrinking round me.

Everything compressed,

All existence and all feeling itself,

Enough power to crush a man,

No end, the beginning has been forgotten,

was there ever one?

As this reverses I begin to cope,

All things and all problems are spaced out,

So it is easier to understand and deal with?