It has started again- the empty space
Is filling up with
wagging mouths licking
And snipping gnawing and gnarling
Suffuse their empty and pitiless lives
Suffocate them with saliva drenched
Detritus
Opinions regurgitated vomited with vileness
Stench
classless ceaseless
The cream has sank
We’re drowning in ourselves
A tune with long term vibration
when the night drags like a tadpole
undulating toward metamorphosis
when the day seeks the night
rotating
towards
blackness
in here an evaporation
deep wells of
milky way reflect
on the lighted
seas
where the boat rocks in
cosmic indifference
to
the slippery hand
of
Perseus
Watching miss molly nibble her way though a leaf
The crunch pierced the nearby ears
Spikey soft frightened off predators
Beauty in or out of transformation
It’s a question of time before you see
Her
Glorification
Of
Creation
When you play old maid with a 13 and 8 year old card sharks Ned brings a certain winning streak to the play.
Being the old maid is not the Continue reading Watch “Ned Miller – From A Jack To A King” on YouTube
https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m000bgq1
Dead Inside
Me too-Him too what a state of affairs
Me-Him have got ourselves into Continue reading SEX RECESSION hits BBC4 we’re still…………………….drowning
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‘SHUSH.’he said.
‘I like you, why, what’s wrong with you, didn’t you enjoy it?’
‘You like me, you don’t even know me!’ ‘You’re weird’
These were red rag words to a bull.
‘Young ladies like you who call people like me weird have to be taught a lesson.’
‘STOP.’ in a strange way Alanna didn’t want him to.
‘Who were those you were with last night?’ he said Continue reading When it’s a classic case a pure chaotic classic where he presumes and leaves me subsumed in erumpent mundanity
The room felt cold and damp and hot at the same time. A bit of a shiver ran down his back. The night air flowed in.
She lay on her back between his legs one leg over the side of his body the other resting on his chest. They ended on the floor. Continue reading When you can’t take it in the beauty of him
‘That’s that then’
‘What’s what, you say it as if nothing happened’ trying to tie her bra as she said it.
‘You think this is something?’ ‘this is part of the deal remember!’
‘And where does it go from here-no where-that’s where’ he said glancing at his six pack. Continue reading When it’s a case of give and take the Giver Always Takes!
imagine
concise
to the point
not an extra syllable
tell me
why
do it
now
To wrap to sheath to camouflage to protect-it sounds ominous wrapping up
It’s not- with cultural cannibalisation……it’s…..impossible.
To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else – means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ee cummings a miscellany
Born Free forever chained to demands
imagining them opened by a beautiful
man
whose chains are tighter is the paradox
of love
that is pure born of entanglement
baby eyes and mind of amazment
sitting perplexed not being able
to undo what is done
not knowing how it had come
aWhen a tortoiseshell landed in my heart
When in an Alternate Realm
When he was absorbed at the Gate of the Wind-His Iris now Pulsates
Injustice and filth they throw after the lonely one: but, my brother, if you would be a star, you must not shine less for them because of that. And beware of the good and the just! They like to crucify those who invent their own virtue for themselves—they hate the lonely one.”Nietzche
<When he Took Arions Reigns and Felt the Magical Wind
falling from the universe he landed at my
feet
he was soft, strong and
warm
what a fright to give to
me
picking him up I knew
he was my
destiny
Lucretius says-Happy is he who has discovered the causes of things and has cast beneath his feet all fears,unavoidable fate, and the din of the devouring underworld.
As atoms we are in an unchanging world discovering what always has been.
Look back and you will see yourself moving in the direction you are to go, you can’t change it- you have been there already. This is not a perception but a birds feather falling, leaves, rain falling, winds blowing again and again repeat over and over life, death.
In differential topology, sphere eversion is the process of turning a sphere inside out in a three-dimensional space. Remarkably, it is possible to smoothly and continuously turn a sphere inside out in this way without cutting or tearing it or creating any crease. This is surprising, both to non-mathematicians and to those who understand regular homotopy, and can be regarded as a veridical paradox; that is something that, while being true, on first glance seems false.
Embody the good story
Rows of houses, all bearing down on me
I can feel their blue hands touching me
All these things into position
All these things we’ll one day swallow whole
And fade out again and fade out
This machine will, will not communicate
These thoughts and the strain I am under
Be a world child, form a circle
Before we all go under
And fade out again and fade out again
Cracked eggs, dead birds
Scream as they fight for life
I can feel death, can see its beady eyes
All these things into position
All these things we’ll one day swallow whole
And fade out again and fade out again
Immerse your soul in love
IMMERSE YOUR SOUL IN LOVE
The day dawns with scent of must and rain,
Of opened soil, dark trees, dry bedroom air.
Under the fading lamp, half dressed – my brain
Idling on some compulsive fantasy-
I towel my shaven jaw and stop, and stare,
Riveted by a dark exhausted eye,
A dry downturning mouth.
It seems again that it is time to learn,
To which, for the time being, I return.
In this untiring, crumbling place of growth
Now plainly in the mirror of my soul
I read that I have looked my last on youth
And little more; for they are not made whole
That reach the age of Christ.
Below my window the awakening trees,
Hacked clean for better bearing, stand defaced
Suffering their brute necessities,
And how should the flesh not quail that span for span
Is mutilated more? In slow distaste
I fold my towel with what grace I can,
Not young and not renewable, but man.
NEMESIS was the goddess of indignation against, and retribution for, evil deeds and undeserved good fortune. She was a personification of the resentment aroused in men by those who commited crimes with apparent impunity, or who had inordinate good fortune.
Nemesis directed human affairs in such a way as to maintain equilibrium. Her name means she who distributes or deals out. Happiness and unhappiness were measured out by her, care being taken that happiness was not too frequent or too excessive. If this happened, Nemesis could bring about losses and suffering. As one who checked extravagant favours by Tykhe (Tyche) (Fortune), Nemesis was regarded as an avenging or punishing divinity.
In myth Nemesis was particularly concerned with matters of love. She appears as an avenging agent in the stories of Narkissos and Nikaia, whose callous actions brought about the death of their wooers. In some versions of the Trojan War, she was the mother of Helene, and is shown in scenes of her seduction by Paris pointing an accusing finger at the girl.
Nemesis was often sometimes depicted as a winged goddess. Her attributes were apple-branch, rein, lash, sword, or balance. Her name was derived from the Greek words nemêsis and nemô, meaning “dispenser of dues.” The Romans usually used the Greek name of the goddess but sometimes also named her Invidia (Jealousy) and Rivalitas (Jealous Rivalry).
if it
happened and
now is
past can
we predict
the
future
based
on
an event
that
has not
yet
happened
but what
unlocks
our mind
to
what
will be
oh
paradox
Oblivious to the
tune of
time
It passed
He roared quietly
Inside
Three deer a tiger and a lion
Grazed
Near the
Stream of fate
That
He couldn’t cross
Beyond all knowing
Risking the
The realm’s chance
On the other
Side
A dream passed
His face
Cold
Chilling
A flame on
His forehead
Prophesised
His atomic
Destiny
Take the leap
of
faith
into paradise
swim in the
well
of sweet
this is
the
paradox
It takes wisdom
For this operating
System to work
destructive
And impulsive
The flames grab
At her
veil
The universe adjusts
Systematically
Hotter and hotter
Burned to a
crisp
She looks through
The embers
Seeing him
Touching
The hem
Rising in his
Glory
Waiting for the
Attacks
Ripped apart
There is
No going
Back
Another
paradox
When a question
Is an
Answer
To the
Biggest thought
you have ever
had
Turn it on
Its head
Imbibe it daily
With piercing
Glances
Ragged roots
Contain
the world’s
Plague
What’s going
on
Relentless
the wool’s weft
is spun
warped and
knotted
coloured in
skein
Pandora’s box
is opened
hold on
the bridge has
fallen
there is
the
paradox
swift and sweet falling a puddle
a mess a glissade on the cold ice white tiled floor
blooded gloves pulling at the cri de coeur
Epistemic filled eyes sigh
In the sighlence
Another
For
The
Wasteland
Your mind let’s go of external demands once entering this allotment sanctuary.
Don’t imagine what you see on television as being the real thing.
There is no edited version of real life.
You can cut corners, cover up or over what you don’t want to experience or express either way everything will be revealed.
That’s the same with the plot it takes time and energy and expression.
The plot was another’s who had prepped it before it being taken over.
You first should not make the plot a challenge but an enjoyment at your own pace, your own arcadia.
Walk it, look at the soil see the lie of the land get some books to see ideas.Recommending ‘The Allotment” and “Square Metre Gardening”. Both in library.
Although small it does deserve your attention and a plan.
Going up there a few times made me think that raised beds would give a contained feel. Easy to walk around and make.
Also the raised beds can be allotted to others who can grow their own.
A place to lie back and look at the sky, the crow family, the trees and feel it.
Children love or not depends on the introduction to growing their own food. Watching plants come through the soil stimulates a knowledge of nature.
For this year other plans were formed in my head and down that route I’ll go.
He knew as he told her she knew as she sensed it, but neither of them knew what it was what they knew, except it was going to happen: soon. This a priori knowing is an awkward silence when breathing stops.
