Resolute

Pensive and suited
The glassy eyes searched
To save pride.

The warmth drained from
My gripping fingers
As though
Through a vacuum
Pulling heat
He would draw it all away
As he went.

The image rests with me now
Slack, unburdened.

Stories of elders enlivened
As this is how one can live
And as he made me, us.
Never drink water from the hot tap.

Starched Rabbat

I saw a priest rushing yesterday
Through town.
How queer.
When I told you
You agreed
And recalled how cold it has become.
It has become cold.
Colder than a brass knuckle
Held aloft
Above a grave.
And this season that priest will stand
Aloft
Above this grave.
It will.
As it was
It will be again.

Twenty-three Days

Hopelessly subject to what has been deemed
Rallying against the force decided
The rains came to dampen the picture
And entwine the thought delivered.

When the truth deserves to bear light
The bold, static and leaded clouds hinder
And glimmers are grasped in introspection
Though hardly diplomatic and justified.

Number three, the shuttle planed and
Peeled the atmosphere of the countless streams
Swollen and gilded, the contents
Brimming
And bitter
And human.

TarMacAdam

Through the homes of France
and upon which I gazed.
A mammoth journey across tonic land.
Where black butterflies laze
and only wheels turn.

An insincere assistance to walking
Is fabricated and lonely.
It is this journey I have not known
In my previous life of homely
Mice and men.

Black butterflies and I.
In the torn, scarred, and living land.
It is unreal and sprawling,
And clutching the beginning cland
-estine
(the end)
The manicure kissing
The ragged quick.

Title

Not quite blood from a stone
It is more relative than that
Akin to tears from a bone
This would be more exact.

The provenance is fossilised
And composed the throne where I sat
Over an alliance which was feudalised
As I behaved as an unruly brat.

I might survey the proceedings
And perceive them unfair
But there are no proceedings
We're not even there.

Under a Sky So Blue

He lay unmoving,
Drenched in the sun.
Stretched out on his side
At the nape of a road.

I watched him
In an attempt to observe
Respiration. I watched.
I bore my eyes forth.

It seemed to me
His body was leaden and still,
Forever.
When he suffered my boring eyes.

He jumped alive,
To search for the culprit.
Until he was drawn back
To his elemental state
And was still.

It is Old and it is Young

Then I hear you
And it's more than a voice.
Chattering slow words
Falling from form.
Educations fed between the lines
Of starving thought.
A stranger in the lines.
Frames of shame
Ringing pain.
Within the lines.
Subscribe to the high King
Lost in the din.
And then
Random breeds pure.
Breeds pure.
Breeds pure.
Sinking teeth into stories.

From the Vaults

Possession: what a desirable bastard child of attraction.

Bahia de la Luna

An inefficient defence layer left my skin vulnerable

To the now abrasive material of the sheets.

I read a book and my skin had succumb to the sun.

And a restless sleep awaited me.

Surrounded by a halo which insects had penetrated,

and whose protection I felt more offended by,

than aided.

An uneasy sleep before me.

The almighty crack awoke me.

And the bugs were illuminated, 

Suspended in their death grips.

And still.

And again.

"Are you awake?"

And again.

And ceaselessly.

I retrieved my camera. I folded my legs under myself

And observed my view from the window above my bed.

The bay would coyly retreat from the stark light

Which forcibly unveiled it.

Continuously.

I tried to take a photograph

So that I would not forget the vulnerable bay.

But those moments would remain only on my mind.

And there they hang to this day.

At least.

He Reminds Me of Villages

You never smile.

You know,

I've never seen you smile.

I would sit for your word.

But all was born was your look.

I saw your home and your life.

And the story would play out

Before my mind's eye.

You were my friend.

In the time before the sun had yawned.

And it was best

From here.

From way over here.

We said what we needed to say

And the words were ghosts

In the lamplit mornings.

Each day we diverged

And diverged again.

We shared our hollowing

And diminishing reflections,

As the sun banished the feature.

But I believe all of this 

Was built on a false premise.

Like the lie behind a smile

With still eyes.

Which I did not receive.

Jones' Fruit Farm

And what a mire this is.

The sun's radiating heat

Attenuating my state.

The sun is deciding my progress

Because I am not.

I've observed my volition peter

And the slow steady engulf me.

As a child, I would course

Through the raspberry ridges.

And the sun would lift me,

It coerced my cultivation.

And now it plays the beast,

Bestowing to me my troubles.

It is a friend,

And I

A fickle one.

As it takes,

It gives.

And I am plied

With a beaming friend.

Magnets, how do they work?

Across the town,

The city,

The country.

The directions proposed;

I can't see but one.

A life lived by the slope of a mountain,

An internal compass has been etched,

Bored.

I stumble upon my misgivings,

And find,

To stand,

I am pulled.

A moral compass forms the bedrock

Of this modern machine.

The poetic signature

Informing my pace.

A journey has no beginning,

All to observe,

An immediate future.

And maintain.

Though I crave a destination.

Springtime Epithet

Grit down: farewell fire away.

Embers roaring.

An airborne tandem, whipping the heat of

Spring.

The parade skirting the sea.

Spring march, furrowing its plough.

New young.

Stop and look.

Sometimes I feel I must be an asshole, for the greater good.

When I use the word 'asshole', I mean that someone will be put out as a result of my actions. I may make their lives (generally their work life) a little more difficult. But I do feel that we all have a civic duty to attend to these things to which I will be referring. I absolutely concede that whatever the subject, I can only have my own opinion. But should not all views be taken into consideration when assessing something within the public sphere? I do feel that my drive is for the greater good and maintenance of equality.

To the subject: I feel it a tired argument to make, but while vegetarianism is serving my moral satisfaction, it does have deep and great benefits for all. The issue of the destruction of meat production industries, which is of note to many, is moot for several reasons: The world still needs protein. It would be a large feat, but a shift in the industry is something I believe is achievable. Where the demand for meat lessens, the demand for protein in a different form will emerge. I also feel that, I have no hang-ups with regard to how I make my living. I feel satisfied that my occupation is morally sound and has limited to no adverse implications to society as a whole. I would proudly go so far as to say it is beneficial within its capacity. These industries have been built on morally corrupt and unsustainable practices. You don't have to dig deep to see the faults in meat industries; the concept itself , the mass slaughter of living, conscious, defenseless animals is indefensible. I can hear people who eat meat scoffing. In search for a moral truth, this is an undeniably foul practice.  In this sense, I feel the people who are part of these industries should have, where possible, made a more morally sound decision when choosing their career.

To my point of being an asshole, besides this monologue: The instance which brought this to my mind was the offer of meal deals in supermarkets, whereby you are given an option of a main course, a side and a dessert for a set, reduced price. Quite often there is no vegetarian option provided. I believe this is not a neutral action, or inaction, I believe it is a step backward and I find it offensive.

When I observe myself complaining to the appropriate Manager in these shops, I can't help but observe that I must appear to be an asshole. If I do not say anything, it would be to what end? What I suggest is not inappropiate; I believe it inappropriate that I do have to suggest a change to these practices. For the monumental benefits that the mass adoption of a vegetarian diet would bring about, should it not be standard practice for supermarkets to not only supply vegetarian options, but encourage the sale of these items.

So, I say something and I say it for the greater good. Okay?