The vertical has disappeared

The world is flat , you are not here
There is no wind ,no still small voice
Right dimensions disappear

Dulled by loss,too wan for fear
There is no sin,there is no choice
The world’s a board , you are not there

I plucked no roses  for your bier
There is no God, there is no Christ
 The vertical has disappeared

I do not burn,I  shed no tears
There is no love, there are no wise.
The world is flat , you are not here

Disconnected  from what’s near
Where walks  the lamb,the sacrifice?
All directions disappeared

Dirac’s  God did shake the dice
Salvation cannot  come from priests
The world is flat , you are not here
The wrong side of the world  is fear


Britain  puts on its dark comic show

Britain  puts on its own comic show
Demons  now released,cold hatred bites
Hurts our people slowly, with cruel blows

Masochism  and sadism toe to toe
Kindness and good will are put to flight
Britain  puts on its dark comic show

Did the people voting ever know
What we heard were falsehoods ,patent lies
They hurt our people slowly  like cruel blows 

Now we’re humbled yet we cannot go
The show goes on, the sparrows  softly fly
Britain  puts on its iconic show

Hurt your neighbour, hurt yourself  and more
Stir up  rage and   let the people die
We ourselves made  lowly, by such blows 

Where is sense, where is our true ally?
Peace in our time, how the babies cry.
Britain  puts on its  black comic show
Mocks  the  people , shows love the front door



Stung  to death by liars.

P1000253.JPGThe pun is mightier than  the word
God’s in the heavens,no light for the world
Curiousity thrills  aegrotats
Always  talk of the funny side of rites
He  resented going to Levens
He rose  like the bread when the yeast is made flesh
It’s bad luck to fake mirrors
I beat men like Blair
Riveting knees and wheels
The child’s cry  dies in the wool
You do not do yahoo? Metoo?
The cauldron of mourning
Stung  to death  by liars.
Put your  nest egg forward
Keep butting one lot in front  of  another
Never say, why.
The cottage was pie
An infinitesmal number divided the fishes and loaves.It’s not called for us
When my rhyme comes
Born on Wednesday.Spoke on Friday.Died later.
Marriage is for creeps
I have seen the writing on the ball
Do your least.
I am punch spunk
Why did the bicycle shriek? It lost its spokes
Do you take this person to be your wife? No,   they are my husband.
We lived in a taunted house till our spirits wailed
Why did the whale eat Jonah? God knows.