Its dark, so dark my surrounds are quiet..Yet the
Dawn advances.' So; so silent.' My spirit my mind
Conjects on time, on hours passing.. and new years
Chimes' minutes become decades...No way to reverse'
The church of England denotes on 'net zero?' I think
Religion.. Is it a curse? Always waiting for some rigid form
They are never any different, lovers of a frigid norm.'
As the west advances to inanity, in the east is much
Division, Russia now is capitailist; i see, yet China still in communisam' sometimes they claim they are partners?
The whole worlds on the boil..Oh the light of dawn.! I
Must away into the morn; of my new turmoil."
Dom
Desde o início
o grande
dom da Páscoa
é dar a fé na esperança.
O dom da Páscoa
fortalece a fé e a confiança
em bondade e amor,
e que dias
melhores chegam
para durar
mais e mais.
Dom
O grande dom da Páscoa
é a esperança
esperança na confiança
em nosso próximo
no triunfo da bondade
da confiança
e da amizade
que nada pode abalar.
A Páscoa é o momento
que a esperança em pessoa,
surpreende o mundo inteiro,
indo do futuro
para o presente.
http://bit.ly/Programa_Capacitar_Mulheres_para_Liberdade
She did it all, everything that I wanted,
She went everywhere that I went,
She did the things that I loved deep down,
After handing me her consent,
To do what I wanted, whenever I chose,
To do whatever I said,
On the road, in the park, on the seat of the court,
And then out the back in the shed,
And she obeyed all the things I demanded she do,
No matter how strange or absurd,
Like telling a story on the phone at work,
Moaning each delicious small word.
She did it all, every day when I wanted,
She did it with all sorts of objects,
And she did the things that I love deep down,
Wearing nothing but shiny latex.
I love that she did whatever I wanted,
I love she obeyed every day,
I loved being dom and she my small sub,
When she did whatever I’d say.
Cobbled traces ankle-turn the December night,
hobbling church goer's on sleet-covered streets.
Lines of warblers rise at the sides,
confined side walkers avoid the car play.
Wet headed wanderers, at large in the dark,
set chill chapped hands to their wind-burned cheeks.
Off key, they carol from the quay to the close
Three Kings rings out joyous from post to lamp post.
Through honeyed light and the nave’s open door
to hear the Domspatzen, the church sparrows, sing.
Boys and young men porcelain in candlelight,
rois without queens, one race, one sex, employed.
Brilliant as finger rubbed glasses, they trill;
we're silent: in sound wrapped, close-eyed, waylaid.
Each dulcet tone blends with organ and bow
teaching church doctrine with tenor and alto.
Published by Page & Spine Winter 2016
Marvellous Mellow Glass of Chardonnay
What was my life before you came my way?
My parched throat and tongue, my taste buds were rife,
My heart, my mouth, with the raw taste of life!
I would sweat by my brawn, or by my brows,
Through the days and nights, for a wife and house;
But, with a Mellow Glass of Chardonnay,
My troubles and strife’s seem to wash away!
My heart, my mouth, would taste the sprite of life
If you were woman, I’d make you my wife!
*A poem written on a request from Keith Jackson AM.