In Springfield’s hall, a young man stood,
And spoke of threats that none withstood—
Not foreign armies, but seeds within,
A nation’s ruin born of sin.
Today, his warning feels alive,
As fear and doubt among us thrive.
The law bends under weight and strain,
And justice falters, flawed, profane.
Pardons shield the loyal few,
While freedoms erode as tempests brew.
Policies divide, compassion fades,
And fragile trust in darkness wades.
Lincoln’s voice still calls us back,
To mend the breach, to seal the cracks.
A nation’s strength lies not in might,
But in will to guard the people’s rights.
Flapping gay garment hung on balcony bannister
Trots obstinate flung spun over railing
Fixated brazen Brigette immune to embarrassment
Boosted bemuse formats never failing
Composed to procure prominence, step with stars
Stage bound show must go on motto
Constellation shift slides velvet curtain aside ajar
Planets orbit origin wins Lyceum lotto
Horoscope high hope performs fame premonition
Bright light box office tickets Brigette
Halcyon sky spiral beehive secures each audition
Sixties seductress frequency fills seats
23rd June
Absurd Truth
Such a good thought
genuine smile
counterfeit, I know
solid inward being
loaded up with expectations
envisions another world
my sought motions came true
astonishing and unnerving event
allowed to divvy
in the pleasant moonlight
and a bright, sunny day
in a lyceum lit dimly
and a peaceful snuggle
you trusted me
to tell me what you think
your suffering
your sorrow
your outflow.
beyond hazy vision.
and strong cravings.
We had a lot in common.
I pauperized your heart
destroyed your soul apart
made you drain
Ignoring the past
Written: September 26, 2022
You are in your blue period -
turquoise swimsuit, buoyant in azure.
Behind your shoulder,
Brighton West Pier,
A snap taken at an amateurish angle,
you’re diving sideways into the waves,
the gaily painted structure
tumbling after you.
A day later, the pier burnt down.
Charred wooden bones,
black skeletal pilings stumped naked.
Vaudeville, lyceum, taproom, and arcade
once rocked beneath bunting and banners
now only wrecked rafters,
broken fingers grasping still at yesterday.
A hint of flames behind your image,
an esplanade crumbling
scorched waves.
It's the blue that saves you –
Your wide open blue eyes
your goofy blue bathing cap.
The photo is blistering,
it was a close thing,
nobody yelled fire when I took it.
~~~~~
The pier closed to the public in 1975 and fell into disrepair for decades,
However, on the 5th of February 2003 the historic U.K. Pier
was engulfed in flames.
Modern day Empire
The same as old,
Man doesn't really have time
Just Inventions and different clothes.
Still craving our nature the two split purpose,
Consumption and reproduction
All else is conjuring vanity,
An evolving Microchip of lost perception, a tinted clarity.
Yet we entrapped ourselves into a diamond cast,
Being compounded by every grasp that meets ear, eye and touch.
Never forget the truth bearing lust,
that feeling of inner-ness that splinter-hair precision awareness
And ask the question you've subconsciously locked away
Why are you being and what are the aims?
And then at that moment your shell will fall apart
so remind yourself of the real truth the binds mind and heart,
and roam among your ancestors in the lyceum of endless fascination
in one's mighty reflection and complacence.
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