Journal

It was around the time I'd got into debt buying Marxist literature. I intended to sell it on, without profit, but couldn't even give it away. Nobody believed in politics anymore.

please comment. this is just a sort of the beginning, an introduction, to a story i've been thinking about.

As I walked through the leaf-covered path leading to my Granny's house, I thought of life and how very important it is that actually knowing it's value would leave a man crazy.

the emperors new clothes

...Poem about life in Kabul Afghanistan, written by an expart. on a night he thinks of wife and children back home..enjoy!!

forgotten and abandoned on a slab

It bores from your empty eyes,
seethes through your muscles, tense;
bellows out in resentful tones
this loathing you possess for me.

I steal a glimpse
catch my reflection

Returning back home to vent the demons of the past, what happens if the demons then decide they were happy enough where they were?

at least theres a boat when theres no where else to run.

I went to my ward Christmas party last night it was cool, Santa wasn't there,I talked to some people there.

When there is a nuclear accident, far away the first sign is mutation.

Dear Diary,

I've decided to write in detail about 3 Major surgeries I've had in my life. The first one I will tell you about is my Rib Graft.

The end ended long ago
yet with my remote controlled mind
I preferred to rewind
watching memories of you when you needed my presence.
Your wrecklessness gave me a sense of worth.

I don't want to feel scared anymore.
Fearfully shuffling around in candle light,
crawling on hands and knees for broken glasses on the floor.
It's times like these I fail to see,

Days have passed by since your name was first mentioned,
Shocking a nation,
still,no salvation.
Why do they shield and protect perpetrators
from fear of harm
and self earned danger?

poem

In her prime, she towered,
not once but four times,
over London’s smoke-filled skies.
A snooker table turned upside down,
as she was fondly described.

“Happy Mother’s day!” she says, standing in the front-porch. “These are for you,” thrusting two balloons in my hand, tied with ribbons ...

dedicated to all survivors of abuse..xxxxx