Blast Off

Five pale mushrooms, garlic rubbed, butter smeared, salted butter at that,

Four mildly smoked bacon rashers, taken to the edge for a crispy rind,

Three sizzled sausages, spitting fat and hissing, brushing a burn,

Two medium eggs, salt pinched yolks, over easy as they say,

One home grown tomato, flash fried and fancy free.

A good way to end my day.

 

Thoughts

Fact and fiction

Friction and faction

Formulating ponders

From abstracted fractures

...none of it going anywhere...

Opined

Deliberated decision;

Intention selected

Cogitated, binding...

Each choice a chain

Weighing us down

De-liberated...

Spectrum

If only

There was

A little grey

In this

Black and white world

What a colourful place

It would be

Mono

Those choices

All comsuming

Never ending

Junction functions

One

Once more upon the crowded hill

Shuffled and stumbled

Pillar and post oscillation

Wondering as ever

Wondering

.

How to reach out

How to touch, be touched

.

Instead of lonely

oh so lonely

Lost amongst the masses

Desire

Where did all that time go
I sat to browse
While waters flowed
Falling and filling
Waiting for the overnight stench to dissipate
Sat chilling
A small beer in hand
Waiting sipping
Waiting

And now…

And now, it’s all so much later
Nearly too late
I want, need, need, want to soak
Soak and chill and sweat
Scalp prickle and skin sheen
Bitter bubbles hitting lips, tongue, throat…

Beer in hand
Book in hand

Make time flow slower…
… or the waters faster.

It's not so much I wandered
I wondered
and found myself else-when to where I thought I might have been
Amongst the pain
the suffering
blood
and more than one tear...
I was amongst the sweaty, the plain, the drab; and blending in;
blending in so well...
Rolling in bigotry and sexism, random libel,
spontaneous erroneous sticky labelling and witch-hunting;
indeed, burnt a few myself...
It's dark outside, and little light shines from within;
shadows of night infesting stagnant lobes;
lobes battered into autonomous mimicry of those grey grey folk that really really would be better off dead.
But still onward onward onward ever fucking onward…
I long for civilisation and culture to strip these chains;
Break
Broken
Chipped mug cast aside; stained in and out
Reality tannin; tanning my hide

Take your Bow

All a quiver
Wishing I was somewhere else
Wishing all the while
I was someone else

From bough of yew
I’d taken up my bow
And shot that fiery orb
As it cast no shadow

Soaring

…Flying high;
Free…

Soaring

Only to find
Terra firma
Rapidly rising
To bury your face
In mud again