Don’t Start at the Beginning

A discovery of Dickens

and Duffy, Hardy,

hardly enough, he

awoke in me, poetry,

spoke to me, awoke in me,

something wild.

The Animal wept

for ‘The Unborn Pauper Child’.

The lessons and legacy

of Tolkien, my fascination

with the Inklings

and Lewis’ dedication:

world changing,

life changing.

I sensed the rearranging

of destiny,

the message fate sent,

when ‘The Signalman’ began

with the end.


Beware the Wild Roses

Beware the wild roses,

the beauty swiftly fades,

thorns thread through thighs,

and sighs are stifled,

an eyeful of erroneous

erotica, envisioned

cherished conclusion –

an illusion. Take care

as you stare, beware.

Beware the wild roses,

the beauty fades,

invades the imagination,

but the poison of perfection

is a deflection that poses

more questions and rejections

than one can afford

to recollect. Protect.

Inspect. Respect.

The Forsaken



I mined my memories with no thought,
For my own safety, no harness or shield,
As I capered down the corridors to catch
What cowered in the catacombs of conscience.

Something cringed in the consciousness,
And as I stripped the valley of my morose mind,
(forsaking the raw materials and abusing myself,
By removing the ore of opportunities and,

Culling the capacity to choose).
All that was left in the darkness, the harshness,
Was a feral child, who will become oblivious
To pain and defiant in the face of oblivion.