Latest Poetry

UKA posting from 2005. The terror threat to Europe will soon be worse than ever - thanks to nuclear-armed religion. And no one's in control any more. You can join our coach if you like, there’s room for one more; we’re escaping dust at high altitude retrograding from nuclear levitation; . . . . and Khilafah Muslims, in millions, ecstatically awaiting imminent annihilation; no longer nuking Zionist effigies, not now, since chemical-Ayatollah supplied the know-how; ...

An Insect's B & B; their extinction, means our extinction. Pic.: my own The rickety Insect Hotel stands high, leans back; narrow, house-shaped, wire-mesh fronted, its small compartments, are filled with twigs, bits of bark, dry reeds and rotted grass. It was erected by an ecologically-aware council employee before retiring and dying in suspicious circumstances. He insisted on being buried too, bequeathing his body to their cause, making no bones about his concern for them ...

often, the most obvious and overdue way. Pic.: my own The easiest way, to reach inside to make someone cry, is to mention sacrifice, altruistic dedication the stalwart friend who never wavered For we view ourselves as most misunderstood and in learning to feel again to redress the dispirited soul the emotion needed will be rightfully awoken not by self-pity but recognition! Goth:2023 ...

Forgive me that I love you, but I just can't manage it alone, and the mere sight of you is too intoxicating not to give some relevant results in crazy outbursts of exhilaration and the perfect drunkenness of beauty. Stay that way, my love, and I can promise you that I will go on loving you forever in impeccable and perfect faithfulness to never fail you with my loyalty, since the love that you inspire ...

The sooner you admit it, the more you will be able to achieve it, that it never can be quite accomplished, and that if you reach it, it most certainly will be undone before your eyes and by the very act of your accomplishment and consummation, since it can only be maintained and cultured by your never reaping it, for harvesting means death, while plowing, labouring and hard work is the only guarantee of life, ...

makes the idol brain indolent, and obsessive compulsive in order to keep it structured, and in control! Pic: my own Today, following her newly acquired routine of attentively pacing a well-trodden stream-side path with eleven asphalt repairs she counted sixty-four mallard ducks Yesterday, there was seventy-six the day before, eighty-seven. Three broods of eight ducklings hatched this Spring The numerical dominance of brown females each time she thought strange. Nature leaving some ducks as surplus ...

I know of no one else that justly would deserve that title. You already as a young man travelled round the world, exploring, analyzing and evaluating it from San Francisco to the Himalayas in surveyance of your empire of freedom, finding and selecting friends of every nationality and race and faith to suit your mission of enlightenment to spread the word of love and beauty in close observance of reality and truth. Your sticking to ...

Reality can never fool you, only you can fool yourself by trusting your alluring dreams and take your own idealism seriously, the all too common wishful thinking, which makes you believe you have the power to transform reality into your dream. It is not possible without a dialogue, and that dialogue consists of oppositions - no one will accept your dreams, since they all have their own. If your idealism in spite of all is ...

the poems stem from my thoughts the deepest of roots as trees, plants throw up flowers, fruits in my search for words I try my best to bloom, cannot afford to look at the number of bards, other visitors, perched on the branch, counting is difficult, even distracting, a zero, a curious circle simple enough  to restart, research stubborn, born of a stub ill-afford to slow down speed up for nadir or crown   the ...

Teenage version! Biting its tail, the snake spins in gravitation’s cochlea, gradually weakening dissonant karma's centifuge, gradually unhooking the soul’s burdening anchor; lying on his latex memory pillow, he feels himself nearing the irreducible perfection          of total inactivity. Next time round, he’ll chain himself to the bedpost, eat goat’s milk and unleavened bread, chant a mantra to fix thoughts at          frontier being. Today, the Job Centre, tomorrow, nirvana! Goth:2007 ...

let all the bridges fall let all the dandiprats flock in archaic walls let the mountebanks fleece the nest's wherewithal let the clodpates blame find faults let them ostracize the purest pals let the insecure lot flaunt impish, profane powers let them powder the virtuous soldiers, let the wars hide behind kindest words let actions disunite the world with aversive verse in silence, on dark and deadly nights we'll write our limpid lines our eyes fixed ...

In this quiet retreat, we thought few things could disturb our well-earned peace. Fictional. Sneaking in, along the eastern horizon, on that final day in the garden, the autumn sun had risen after us.       Less than a month earlier, it had left its mark, flattening plants into sea anenomes...  those unable to save the tide. Night dew had revived them, but, orchard trees, looking like old standard lamps, still drooped down comatose. At the rockery, gnats were ...

is Charlie trying to reverse the vote! Another fun doodle. Pic.: no © Matched erotically, and quite open about such things, two fellow medical students of mine said, they made love, as only those deeply in love can do, using just eye contact to achieve silmultaneous detonation. And that, yesterday, walking hand-in-hand along old gun emplacements dug deep, halfway up the cliffs of Dover, taken short, she had pulled her knickers down, and, resting her ...

From heart of Shire where I was born, no rush to grow away from black and white memories: those sinuous lanes I knew well, are now following spectrum of colours that harvest wealth. I'm caught in drowsy simplicity of adolescent dreams, relentlessly unwavering like swift flowing streams. Though friends were not steadfast through many years, memories still stand in awe; sometimes growing clearer...fertilizing mind, helping me assess perfect specimens of reflection, now quenched before vanishing ...

poets are neither prophets nor puppets they're poets good or bad glad or sad wrong or right they love to write  ...